Gypsyfiddler Ink: music & musings from my corner of the sky...

"The Healer"

2006-01-29T23:06:00.000-08:00

This song is based on a short story by Aimee Bender that I used for Serious Prose Speech Competitions in High School. Still a work in progress...

Where I went to high school we had more than our share of freaks.
I mean, sure, we had the goths, the jocks, and that kid who wouldn't shower for weeks
But we also had a girl whose hand was made of fire
and another girl whose hand was made of ice
And that's really freaky Sci-Fi sh*t
and they caught a lot of hell because of it
at first, but then we all got used to it
and nobody looked twice....

And I was the one who sat in the back and watched this come together
the way their hands got normal in each other's grasp.
I saw the fingers, nails, and skin
where once just fire and ice had been
and I heard the ice girl whimper
and the fire girl gasp:
"Don't let go," she said, "Don't let go."
"Don't let go," she cried, "Don't let go.
You don't know the pain I've been through."
But the ice girl pulled her hand away and said,
"Yeah, I do."

Missing posts?

2006-01-01T21:59:00.000-08:00

Fear not, gentle audience! If you have noticed that a few former posts are missing from this page, this is because I have decided to consolidate all the work for the upcoming musical (look for it at the University of NE Kearney this summer!) onto one page, leaving this one free for everything else. Check "http://alchemistmusical.blogspot.com" for new works and updates from "As Pure As Gold: The Musical"

Big Yellow Moon

2005-12-11T21:59:00.000-08:00

A just-for-fun, bouncy jazzy, torch-y song!

Big yellow moon,
all alone in the sky.
Inky black blanket
keeping both of us dry.
I could scratch on your face like a witch in the night.
I'm all over the place, don't know which way is right.
Am I doomed? (big yellow moon)
Bring my baby home soon!

Big yellow moon,
tell me what can I do?
Somewhere, I wish
that he's wishing on you.
When he left me alone, I was sure I'd be strong,
Now I'm singing the blues-- why don't you sing along?
I'll make room. (big yellow moon)
Bring my baby home soon!

You're missing the sun,

I'm misisng the one..

that I always run to.

We really should be

content on our own.

But, why do I feel

that I'm only real

when I feel him next to me?

Come on, sister yellow, tell me when you're gonna bring my fellow

home????

Big yellow moon,

we're alone in the sky.

Why are you blind

to the tears that i cry?

From one lonely girl to another:

Can't you see I need him like I need no other?

Let all of the stars and the crazies make room

cause I can be mad as a midnight loon

Don't let this stupid sorrow be my gloom and doom, and

please.... big yellow moon...

bring my baby home soon!

Bring my baby home soon!

The obligatory love duet...chorus

2005-12-11T21:56:00.000-08:00

Ok, here's the chorus of the obligatory love duet between Eleanora and Albert. Stay posted for verses to come....

Once upon a time we were made for each other.

Tell me again how I found you.

We'll be the most beautiful tale that the tellers have told.

One "happily ever after" after another.

Here let my arms and my story surround you,

Holding you fast with a love as true and as pure as gold.

I Want My Life to Have a Soundtrack!

2005-12-11T21:34:00.000-08:00

(total charm song....the verses are kind of patter sing-songy and the chorus is swing!)
.
I'm one of those people who sings in the shower, the car, and the bar, and the street.
It's like there's a choir in my head and a whole flock of goose-stepping guys in my feet.
At times irritating, I'm stuck calmly waiting for baiting the hook and the line
so to reel in the feelin of life so appealin and so inescapably mine....
It's time for an external manifestation of all of the sounds in my skull.
There's only one thing that I need to make life incomparably lovely and full...
.

I want my life to have a soundtrack.

I wanna be followed by an instrumental entourage.

Everywhere that I go, be the star of the show. and you know...

I'm gonna have a happy ending.

I wanna sing everything with an orchestral underscore.

I want a streetful of people who randomly burst into song!

I want it picture perfect and cinema sweet,

Wanna walk down the street and be tapping my feet

with a world of happy people always happy to sing along!

.
You might think that I'm kind of crazy... to wish for this the way that I do (do do doo!)
It's only a dream that I've had since before I knew dreams only rarely come true.
Now dare I admit that there's one little bit I neglected to mention before.
I long for the street, and the folks, and the feet, but how sweet to get just one thing more!
Someday I'll see someone out there who is marching to beats from his/her on special drum,
And we'll fall in step, and the music will swell, and you'll see all the people are singing and dancing and danceing and singing and laughing and loving as well!
.

Cause I want my life to have a soundtrack!

And I want it blaring out from everything and every one.

With the rhythm and sound all around it's so sweet that I found...

someone to dance along beside me!

I wanna sing everything with an orchestral underscore.

I wanna streetful of people who randomly burst into choreography and song!

I want it picture perfect and cinema sweet,

wanna walk down the street and be tapping my feet

in a world of happy people always happy to sing along!

Happy, happy, happy.... to sing along!

The Mountain

2005-12-05T21:33:00.000-08:00

The snow melts down like tears along the Mountain's face.
The Ocean feels the waterfalls increase.
Why weep, my friend? said Ocean to the Mountain tall.
When will you find the golden light of peace?
.
You stand among the stars, oh Mountain, straight and true,
and all the waters here below look up to you.
To dwell among the heavens must be truly grand,
and yet you cry. Oh Mountain, I don't understand.
.
Ocean dear, my friend, said Mountain's gentle voice,
as clear as night, as deep as Trident's sea.
You give me hope for dreams I have that might have been,
but still I weep for what I cannot be.
.
For you cannot see what I see beyond the stars' fair light.
I ache beyond my wildest dreams to reach it every night.
A world of beauty, I can see it, yet I find now way
to stretch beyond this rocky ground, so weeping, here I stay.
.
Oh, Mountain, give up foolish talk. There's nothing but the stars.
And you can find true happiness here in this world of ours.
Kind Ocean waved and shook her head: what silly dreamer, this:
so tall, so proud, so full of grief, this Mountian's foolishness.
.
But still each spring, the Mountain weeps for places she alone can see.
Beyond the stars, a heaven lies for dreamers yet to be.

A Christmas Song

2005-12-05T20:12:00.000-08:00

I found this lyric on my laptop dated 12-18-03. I guess now I'll have to write a tune for it.....
.
"A Lovely, Lowly Place"
.
She wanders through the night
with the sighing of hte wind
echoing uncertainties.
She wonders where she's going,
forgotten where she's been,
stumbling and struggling for peace.
.
At last in desperation
falling through an open door
she finds herself in warm and quiet light.
A stable where the aging beasts
and tiny baby share
a strange communion on a newborn holy night.
.
(chorus)
There in a lovely, lowly place
where a simple bed is lit by a single lantern
and the warmth of the animals' breath
clouds the evening air.
.
There she folds her hands in grace
and raises her unheard voice in a quiet anthem
in the empty, silent night
ssalvation is there.
.
He walks in quiet honor,
shouldering a heavy heart.
He brings a royal offering.
He lays down all his riches
and as the moonlight fades,
a worldy giant kneels before a tiny king.
.
And he who comes with nothing
and will leave this world the same
asks for only open hands
and a desp'rate sense of wonder
and a childlike faith
and open eyes to see the castle where he stands...
.
is a lovely, lowly place
where a simple bed is lit by a single lantern
and the warmth of hte animals' breath
clouds the evening air.
.
Kings will bow their heads in grace
and raise mighty voices in a quiet anthem.
In the empty, silent night
salvation is there.
.
(Bridge)
For every pair of eyes
that have seen too many reasons
to fill with tears and close in despair,
for all the emtpy arms
and the hands that clench and tremble
to be filled: a savior is there.
.
In a lovely lowly place
where a simple bed is lit by a single lantern
and the warmth of the sinners' breath
clouds the evening air.
.
I will bow my head in grace
and raise a mighty voice in hosannah's anthem.
In the glory of this holy, holy night
salvation is there.
In this place,
salvation there...

Sunday Vespers, 2002

2005-12-05T20:05:00.000-08:00

Even more beautiful
than the color-played cathedral columns
awash in watercolor light,
even more breathtaking
than the rainbow pools of colored window glass
in this evening of song and spirit,
even more glorious than all of this,
I find holy majesty
in the absence of the light,
once the sun has set
and only the stains remain:
deep, and mystical in their darkness.
.
And as we stand,
a mass of heavy velvet robes
and white-ringed faces,
we, too, reflect somehow
this tangent twain of dusk and dawn,
of birth and ash-sprung rebirth.
.
We sing of scattering the night
as if it were but black shards of glass.
We sing of watchers proclaiming
light anew.
.
But in truth both are cut of the same,
infinite cloth.
.
For what could be more holy
than this absence,
this expectation,
this advent of dazzling darkness
streaming from every windowpane
before the light dares to arrive?
The circle of Christ-stained glass,
like a portal to heaven,
is now a veil of rich garnets and sapphires,
black and expectant.
.
Soon she will birth the infinite color
and glory of morning.

Jericho

2005-12-04T21:50:00.000-08:00

Random song... :-)

(Verse)
You are an ivory tower, scratching the sky,
Daring the clouds to cross you, holding your head high.
You die a little more each day
that you keep the world away
You're beautiful, and dangerous
and too steep to climb.
.
(Chorus)
When will your walls come down.. Jericho?
I will blow my horn, I will sing my song, I will circle you every day.
I wil stay... I will wait...
I will keep my lanterns lit,
and I'll sit beneath your crumbling gate for the love of it.
And I pray one day you'll see me through your fear...
So when you finally find your defenses failing, Jericho,
in the rubble of your walls... find me here....
find me here.
.
(Verse)
I... offer nothing but two eyes open wide to see
all of the things you are you hide so selfishly
I'll be no less or more
than you tell me we're ready for
I'll cover you, discover you,
and get stronger with time...

(Repeat chorus)
So when will your walls come down.......
.
(Bridge)
You've never been one to surrender.
Why expect you to start now?
But still I can't help wishing
I could be the one to show you how!
.
(Chorus)

In Praise of Shallowness

2005-12-01T12:51:00.000-08:00

An ode of envy to the unexamined life

.
.
To skip along like pennies on the surface of the water only once or twice...

...would be nice.

To merely dabble lightly, never pausing once to ponder paradox and fate...

...might be great.

To take as creed a mass-produced and shiny manifesto of avowed belief...

...perhaps relief.

To practice moderation in the pleasurable, awful, and the truly strange...

...would be a change.

To never feel inferior when up against the vastness of the universe...

...might be a curse.

To live a day unquestioned and unturned beyond an obvious simplicity...

...would simply not be me.

And so I give my homage to the kind of life as yet uncut enough to bleed...

...that I could never hope to lead.

Quote of the Millennium

2005-11-28T11:54:00.000-08:00

This was my favorite quote from the Broadway version of RENT, and is also a gem from the new, fabulous screen version:

THE OPPOSITE OF WAR ISN'T PEACE.......IT'S CREATION!
--jonathan larson

A love song...... (I wish...)

2005-10-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

(This will be a Rogers and Hammerstein-y song someday....)

I wish that I could wish myself in love with you,
and spend myself a lifetime in your arms.
I wish that I'd want nothing more than you to end the day,
And wish that after "I love you" there'd be no more to say.
I would spend forever ever-loving, warm, and true
if I could only wish myself in love with you.
..
I dream of one day dreaming of no one but you,
then opening my eyes to see you there.
By candlelight or sunlight, I will never look for more.
If only you could be the only light I'm searching for.
If only I dreamed simple dreams like other people do
I'd dream that I could only dream of loving you.
..
You are everything my mind knows that my heart will ever need.
How lovely life would be....if only mind and heart agreed.
Am I broken? Am I crazy? Will you know how much I cared?
Am I sparing you the pain of me? Or is it only that I'm scared?
..
I wish that I could dream myself away from you,
and leave you safely whole and far behind.
I wish for someone kind to be the love I never will
and that you'll know that though you're gone I'm dreaming of you still
And wishing that a cross-eyed star somewhere will dare undo
the mess I've made of me...by never loving you.

Quote of the Day (10/13/05)

2005-10-13T10:55:00.000-07:00

Education is what survives when what has been learned has been forgotten.

--B. F. Skinner

Quote of the Day (9/30/05)

2005-09-30T11:56:00.000-07:00

"Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music". - George Carlin

Quote of the Day (9/28/05)

2005-09-28T12:29:00.000-07:00

"Do not commit your poems to pages alone, sing them I pray you." --Virgil

the pencap

2005-09-27T22:05:00.000-07:00

The pencap has taken on a shape

not found in nature,

and, as I write this, it writhes

in the clutches of my persistent

jaws.

I like the resistant yield of deformed

plastic between incisors

and bicuspids--

the pointy teeth and the grindy ones

--though I can never be sure

which is which.

I like the pencap's taste: slightly

sweet, but inherently void

of all nutritional value,

and, fortunately,

all calories.

The broken lid is rough

on my chapped lips

and damp with spit. I turn

it internally as I chew

to create different formations within

the everchanging caverns of my mouth

(not unlike those of my soul).

It seems I have taken the words that I

want to, need to

say--

the "i love you"s

the "screw you"s

the "screw me"s

the "this is who i truly am"s

(that I never dare to whisper let alone speak aloud)--

and chiseled them into a tiny tablet

of pop culture plastic

now taking shape between two rows

of undying bone that grind

themselves to sleep each

night and smile

their soul away each day.

The pencap is my martyr in the self-

ordained church of self-

judgment and fear.

I myself would like to hide in the mouth

of God

and be chewed up into

something beautiful

bearing

the words of omnipotent wisdom

on my god-bitten arms,

legs, stomach, face

and skin.

I could almost certainly give

myself over to the absent-minded

bite of the divine

(much like this pencap

has given itself up

mercifully to be the sounding

and bruising board for my

almost-unchewed life).

dear god,

take this unbroken

store-bought lid of a human being

and with your semiconscious

and absent minded musings,

mold me into something as

interesting as it is asymmetrical

and beautiful

(finally)

for once...

Or are you too busy--

too refined for such things?

And if I'm not good enough for even

the mouth of God,

where is there left for me to go?

Bite me, God.

Bite me....

climbing the stairs at midnight

2005-09-27T21:59:00.000-07:00

I imagine rocketing up from earth:
an ascent into darkness.
Leaving behind, as I dream
and dare to do,
the inadequacies of the daylight
and the dirt.

I imagine the odd release
as gravity evacuates:
a most wearable lightness of being.
Watching my nerves, my hair
and my assumptions stand
on end over weightless end
while my ankles dangle
like apples on Eden's tree.

I imagine the sounds of soundlessness:
cosmic symphonies and cacophonic harmony.
The bleeding of music so purely complex,
it has turned back on itself
and decomposed.

I image and climb
the darkened staircase,
dreaming, as I dare to do,
in pictures
and rhythm
one step
step
step at a time.

Quote of the Day (9/26/05)

2005-09-26T11:46:00.000-07:00

"Is it so bad to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh."

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Quote of the Day (9/25/05)

2005-09-25T18:17:00.000-07:00

Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious.
--Brendan Gill

Hurricane

2005-09-18T21:36:00.000-07:00

Life is water, bodies flowing.
Some are lazy rivers slowing
down to placid stagnancy
in currents far too calm to see.

The torrent, though, in which I dwell
is deep of soul and high of swell
and frightening to float within
awash with sorrow, flame, and sin.

A rushing flood of salted eyes
that no equations realize
save quenching thirst with pale desire--
you build each day the dam still higher.

Dare the raging waters yet
to strain the structure, dark and wet,
still certain-ish to not succumb
though barely solid, nearly numb.

You know someday the dam will break
but there is far too much at stake
to let walls breach without a fight.
No crying, now, to that good night.

For if the levee's felled at last
and futures drown in floods of past,
I fear the swells may not abate
or that their fall may be too late

To find me more than well-worn shell,
the heart and soul they "knew so well"
now drained of fire, life, and blood.
She could not, won't survive the flood.

Before the Storm

2005-09-18T21:26:00.000-07:00

The air is pregnant,
sweaty and dank.
A million kilowatts of
lightning hover in
antebirthing chambers--
clouds, thick as musk
or music--
and wait to be born.

The rumbling pangs
of electric anticipation,
are like beads of condensing
sweat that drip
unceremoniously down
overheated brows
and lower backs.
Streams of salt
now find themselves
dissolved and gravitationally
pulled toward the thirsty dust:
a ground itself longing
to explode upward
in flashing, white
and cathartic screams.

The heavy, question-
marked atmosphere
is muffled, saturated,
and expectant.
Eyes, legs, and skies
wide open and waiting:
waiting, greedily,
for the pouring
the bleeding
and the pounding
raindrops of release.

Quote of the day (9/17/05)

2005-09-17T09:43:00.000-07:00

"I asked mom if I was a gifted child.... she said they certianly wouldn't have paid for me."
.
.
--by Anonymous
(found at http://en.thinkexist.com/quotes/with/keyword/gifted/)

an afternoon on the lake

2005-09-15T18:09:00.000-07:00

The sun hangs boastfully above my left ear
and laughs as sister wind coddles
the watercolor surface into warm, wet moguls.

This boat like a horse--three legged perhaps,
with an uneven gait--and with it my hips bob
in scallops as the boat's broad chest
slaps the water in a chauvinistic counterpoint.
My fingers tickle the choppy mirror's face,
which, as we slow, begins to lick my palm
in a series of gentle kisses,
and white foam splatter-paints my arm.

(I wonder if it is possible to grow freckles and goosebumps all at once.)

And now, just over my right shoulder:
a rainbow in the spray,
chasing us doggedly, but gracefully
across the lake
in our wake like a guardian angel
playing with light.
And I somehow remember that once
they told me the rainbow is code
for some cosmic promise sealed in the wax
of the sun and the sea,

but for the life of me, here in the sun
while the wind in my hair blows me beautiful,
all I know is that whatever the promise was made,
for me it is only just now

being kept.

a glorious discovery

2005-09-15T18:02:00.000-07:00

A glorious discovery:
the future is a malleable sun,
a light of every color
waiting, hushed, to be unwound.

There is no road
of predetermined destinations
as once I had feared;
the road waits to be created
by my every step.

Every day a choice,
every moment with its own destiny
contained therein,
every breath newborn.

I hold a box of watercolor crayons
in a white paper world,
and one cannot stand guilty
or color outside the lines
if such walls do not exist.

The happy ending I was promised
lives not in boxes long since signed and sealed,
but in eyes just beginning to open:
sleeping beauty eyes
just kissed by the prince of possibility.

Quote of the day (9/15/05)

2005-09-15T17:49:00.001-07:00

How do I change?

If I feel depressed I will sing.
If I feel sad I will laugh.
If I feel ill I will double my labour.
If I feel fear I will plunge ahead.
If I fell inferior I will wear new garments.
If I feel uncertain I will raise my voice.
If I feel poverty I will think of wealth to come.
If I feel incompetent I will think of past success.
If I feel insignificant I will remember my goals.
Today I will be the master of my emotions.

--Og Mandino, "The Greatest Salesman in the World"

The world is green...

2005-09-13T22:39:00.000-07:00

The World is green: wet and new
and freshly showered.
sky: filmy soap grey
And smelling of spring.

The Earth is cool: soft and deep
like beds of black, frozen salt.
sky: marble-still
And all is quiet.

The Rain cries down: shimmers sheer
soluable jewels on the glass--
the blood or tears of diamonds--
sky: open and running
And all is new.

(written in '99)

Poem.....

2005-09-13T22:33:00.000-07:00

I SING

I sing so that a vein to the universe may be opened
from my lips to the sky,
and to heaven with all its stars,
that my music would join with them in their celestial exaltation.

I sing to free the phenix from my soul,
for in the roaring flames of quiet:
ashen bells of truth.

My soul is my song
which I bare for you,
that you might glipmpse
my true essence
that no one ever sees
and fewer hear.

And then,
open and upborne to the cosmos,
I will join hands
in a ring around the world,
and with a million voices
we shall bleed our lives into an ocean of music
pouring forth love,
and endless,
endless harmony.

(written 1/26/03)

2 for 2 in Omaha...

2005-09-13T20:21:00.000-07:00

Well, my successful musical theatre audition rate in this city is currently 100%. (2 out of 2, that is) I just found out that I will be playing Rhoda in a production of the musical "A New Brain" this fall. Great music, and lot of fun ensemble singing. I'm excited to keep performing. Stay tuned for further developments!

Quote of the Day (9/13) 05

2005-09-13T11:19:00.000-07:00

Extraordinary how potent cheap music is.
--Noel Coward

Quote of the Day (9/12/05)

2005-09-12T06:13:00.000-07:00

Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title.
--Virginia Woolf

Quote of the Day (9/11/05)

2005-09-11T16:40:00.000-07:00

If you strike out against convention with what is seen to be a new idea, you have to expect the catcalls and suspicions, because people enjoy the comfort zone of a status quo, and change is always seen as challenging.
--Linda McCartney, The Path of the Vegetarian

Quote of the Day

2005-09-10T23:20:00.000-07:00

"I've always liked the thought of meeting the great people of history. But then I think, what if it's like high school and none of the really cool dead people want to talk to me?"
--Niles Crane on death and the afterlife, 'Frasier'

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

2005-09-10T22:28:00.000-07:00

Before summer becomes an all-too-distant memory, I'd like to post a few pictures from my summer escapades as a music theatre actress (unprofessional and unpaid, of course!). I played Jen in the Andrew Lippa musical john & jen at the Shelterbelt Theatre in Omaha. john & jen musically chronicles the lives of a brother (John), his sister (Jen), and her son (also named John and played by the same actor--in our production it was the talented Christopher Violett), and the way all three are affected by their world and each other throughout their lives. The music is wonderful--and wonderfully challenging, I might add--and we had the audience alternately both in stitches and in tears for the 4 weeks of the run. After what has been a performing hiatus of over 2 years, it was amazing to be back on stage again, especially with such a meaty, rewarding role, and a great bunch of people to work with. Big thanks to the Shelterbelt gang for letting me "play" with them all summer!

For more info and pictures, check out http://www.shelterbelt.org

For starters, a few poems...

2005-09-10T20:07:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my first ever blog entry! Check back often for poetry, song lyrics, pictures, and anything else I can think of, and don't be afraid to tell me what you think!

First, a few amanda originals...

Ireland

Wisps of souls hang in the air

like retreating clouds:

Memories and the mists of prayer linger

among carved crosses and crumbling stone.

This is the dust of which you spoke,

to which all shall return.

Alone, but yet surrounded,

I drift among the outstretched arms of weathered stone crosses,

and through graying arches of fallen Godhouses,

thresholds to some kind of eternity.

I hear the ache of memory,

long since egg-shelled in the crumbling

outerlayer of time and history,

like an angel, waiting cold in shapeless marble,

that only a master's hand

dares to release.

And, as I dream, the embryo of a prayer

also waits, locked inside

as if I, too, and I alone

am also made of crumbling stone.

Open Me

(this is one is a song I'll sing on a movie soundtrack someday...)

Open me, I am ready to be unleashed.

Harbor me, in your waters where waves won't reach.

Carry me over your great divide,

Spend a nighttime by my side.

All of my laces have come untied

the better for you, my dear, to see the hope in me.

So draw back the curtain...and open me.

Cover me, when the lightning is at its peak.

Channel me, when my lips are too weary to speak.

Guardian, lover, and enemy:

Angel and liberator be.

Two lonely pilgrims, one long journey--

A path of unanswered prayers and discovery.

In the moments of lightning...cover me.

And I will hold you...and be held by you.

And I will dream you...and be dreamed by you.

And I will need you...and be needed by you.

I will love you...and be loved by you.

Open me, from the shell I am locked within.

Cover me, when the sunlight is burning my skin.

Few will accomplish what many have tried:

standing alone till the nightmares subside.

For life's not worth living when love is denied,

So I will, reluctant, a lover and open be.

Until I haven't the courage...then you can cover me.

But now you draw back the curtain...and open me.

And now, one of my new discoveries from one of my favorite poets, Robert Frost...

INTO MY OWN

One of my wishes is that those dark trees,

So old and firm they scarecely show the breeze,

Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom,

But streched away unto the edge of doom.

I should not be withheld but that some day

Into their vastness I should steal away,

Fearless of ever finding open land,

Or highway where the slow whell pours the sand.

I do not see why I should e'er turn back,

Or those should not set forth upont my track

To overtake me, who should miss me here

And long to know if still I held them dear.

They would not find me changed from him they knew--

Only more sure of all I thought was true.

Well, I guess that's all for now. Thanks for visiting and come again soon!