Leonard Cohen's blog
In the eyes of men he falls, and in his own eyes too. He falls to you, he falls to know you. It is sad, they say. See his disgrace, say the ones at his heel. But he falls radiantly toward the light to which he falls. They cannot see who lifts him as he falls, or how his falling changes, and he himself bewildered til his heart cries out to bless the one who holds him in his falling. And in his fall he hears his heart cry out, his heart explains why he is falling, why he had to fall, and he gives over to the fall. Blessed are you, clasp of the falling.
The Camp Cohen Good Times Blues Appreciation Band got together for a quick throw down this saturday before parting ways for the weekend. It’s only the first week and everyone is having a hoot.
Tour Manager Mike Scoble gets handy with the tools and digs down into his MacBook for a quick hard drive swap while the band works through a early Saturday Afternoon Tune.
The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world.
– (via dreamelectrixra)