I met a great chef early on that said each time he made a dish it tasted differently depending on what he was listening to while he cooked it. Of course.
Me? Zepplin is my choice. Space travel while roaming the desert. All hours of the night, or military revelry at dawn, Zepplin fills the stream of my need. Transcendental, primal, and melodic. Somehow hot undefined rage becomes harnessed power on horseback. Just sayin. But somedays, only James Hunter or Marvin Gaye can take away the "lonely" of painting alone in a room for hours.
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