Phil's Room

Room, wrought with light,
Harbor from the night
Warm eyes at the door,
Wander alone no more.
You’re home this night
Love you for life

Close both your eyes
Hide your hand in mine
Let the world keep its chill
Feel the Heartbeat warm and still
You’re home this night
Love you for life

Welcome, friend, take off your coat
Shed the weight and ache and cold
Like a child, let us wrap and pass you round
Lean a while your weary soul

Close both your eyes
Hide your hand in mine
Let the world keep its chill
Feel the Heartbeat soft and still
You’re home this night
Love you for life
You’re home this night
You’re home
You’re home.


This song is for you, Phil. We know the valley you're in, and our heart is with you. Hope you understand this is about the body wrapped around you every other Wednesday night - and in spirit every day - the home you seem to understand so much better than anyone else present. We love you, dear friend.

the sweet smell of almost done

We're both sitting here on a beat-up tan leather couch. I (Ris) am watching producer Dave's inspired head bouncing up and down...sometimes swiveling on its axis. No real predictability about where his head will end up - he's not following the percussion blasting out of these awesome, worth-thousands-of-dollar speakers - he's controlled by some dancing geist in his neck. Ange has her beads out, hunched over in her funky Goodwill find of a royal blue blouse with white polka-dots. She's preparing for the day when she opens her music/art/jewelry/djembe circle shop. I'm trying to embrace my promise to only consume 1600 calories today, but I'm starting to get the munchies and those garlic and onion pretzels downstairs look mighty yummy.

We're on our (hopefully) last week of fixing and mixing this labor of sweaty love album we call the Ange and Ris CD 2007 because, just like our name, we can't seem to find a fitting title other than the obvious. CD 2007. It's lined with songs we've birthed and performed, and fought over and still loved - the fruit of "otherness", learning how to partner with the other. Can't wait to hug folks with our babies that, frankly, seem rather more like adolescents these days.

So methinks this will be the spot to share the musings of Ange and Ris, the musical duo without a name, but with a large heart for our sistahs and brothahs, the lovahs of music with ambiance and a story.