I heard today about Dan Fogelberg's passing. Now, before someone screams at me for being from the 70s--guilty as charged.
This guy's tunes inhabited my heart, and still do. He was that rarest of people, an artist who was a musician who was a poet. He celebrated life--can you get much more connected than that?
In a way his tunes informed my writing. I sit here listening to my iPod with every DF tune I can load, loaded on it, and playing. I celebrate his genius, his gentle way of telling the truth, his life. Too young--I daresay there was music in him yet to be strummed on the 4700 instruments he played. I'd be ready to bet there were still stories to tell, life to be explored, poetry to set to the notes of a score.
Farewell for a while, Dan. You'll be missed here.