Whatever happened to Amy Annelle?
Courser of the highways and byways
wandering the country with her music family in a big old van.
Songs coming to you over the airwaves, f
rom the streetcorner, campfire or stage.
It's not that I have gone. or given up. Far from it.
I just got real sick.
There you have it.
Been a couple years now.
No sure fire cures.
Trailing through a different wilderness.
Looking for clues, and crime scenes.
I will mend. This is my intention.
But this mending takes time, stillness.
Out of my element, yet more elemental, this mending takes time.
So, slow I go.
In the meantime, the world speeded up.
I am out of tune with the speed of the world.
So you may only hear me as a whisper,
rather than a bullhorn holler.
The muses speak more gently now than ever.
I promise to see them through.
No teams of experts ensure my success or viability.
When something happens, it just does.
Not that nothing is happening... Some things happened.
Did you hear things? Did you see things?
Metaphorical motes come up from the dark, and floated around in a sunbeam.
This one's a story about my friend Ralph White.
Told by a fellow traveler finding his own way,
with some songs and words of mine helping the telling:
Two new photo essays from the Texas High Plains:
"ESTELUSTI: The Longest Road to Brackettville"
you can go over to the "still photos" section at www.highplainssigh.com to see.
And another episode, related to the first, but different.
About the cowboy artist and wise man, R. Kelly Pruitt,
and the love for his Texas high desert.
My songs from "The Cimarron Banks" are there in that wild place, and couldn't feel more at home:
Until we meet again, I bid you:
FARE FORWARD, VOYAGERS!