The creative silence of morning is sacred, as was the joyous song of GK’s show last night at the Ryman. We’re so impressed by the stamina of an 81-year-old who can keep us up past our bedtime with a nearly 3-hour show. And he led us in song right through the intermission. The meanderingly silly Lake Wobegon monolog concluded with a heartfelt thanks to “friends, not fans”… a joyful night out, “miserable” wooden pews notwithstanding. Thank you, GK.

“I think a bratwurst can be to me what that madeleine was to Proust. You never know when joy might strike. Enjoy the silence and be alert and you may be amazed what will come to mind.”
The art of writing, Lesson One
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