Pedernales
Daisy Johnson keeping an eye and ear on things.
C’mon sun, work! I thought this was the south? Figured I’d be sweating, not wishing I’d brought another sweater…
Pedernales. Pronounced, “Purdnalez”
Our chauf-fur.
The red headed stranger over the years, on a red wall.
That’s more like it! Until today the only real heat I’d felt was from habanero peppers.
Listening to one of the three songs we tracked yesterday.
A strat through this rig is huge sounding but unforgiving. It’s transparent and true, like a big acoustic.
I don’t play piano at all but I spend a little while every day with my head under the hood of this beautiful Bosendorfer listening to low notes. Heavenly…
“Hey Big Sugar dude, control this Rasta…”
Tubes and tape = Tone!!!
Playing with my left hand and shooting photos with my right.
