The pages of moby are falling wet in the studio like the little white petals are falling on the black street outside. Petals and pages become one and I call them Pagels in the Rain and flowers and mad drawing of whales and zeppelins. Fortunately I have some mp3s of Bob Dylan’s satellite radio show (whith all it’s themes, dreams and schemes) to keep me company into the wee small hours of the morning. I will be taking a break to see the cherry blossoms at Brooklyn Botanic Gardens. I suggest you do the same.
