The Amazing

The garden of Max Gill.

The garden of Max Gill.

I was between two Garden of Edens, loading my trunk with swan songs. This nine+ minute soundscape by The Amazing, aural transcendents out of Sweden, came on while I was sliding across rungs of steel slung out over water.

I love driving over bridges. You begin in an expected place and, in a few moments, you've crossed an ocean - or some iteration of. A tincan microcosm of the goddamn Pinta Maria, coasting into the New World

Petaluma to Berkeley and I'm trafficking piles and piles of heirloom garden roses cut and gifted by one of the most talented women I know. One of those humans who is too close to the source to realize how galactic their soul is.  Miasmic deserts of syncopated guitar riffs kicked up around 5:17, and I thought on that unnamed connection we can feel for each other; a Knowing no hypotheses of Freudian science or monotheistic religion can dilute. Cruising hundreds of feet above hundreds of fathoms, and from all directions - there's blue.