How Does it Feel?

How does it feel to unexpectedly discover New York City?

How does it feel to never have lived until this point?

How does it feel to sit in Washington Square Park for the first time and consider it the most magical place you have ever visited?

How does it feel to lend your guitar to a perfect stranger and listen to Mr. Tambourine man for the first time, at the age of twenty one?

How does it feel to discover music so poetic that makes your lived experiences seem shallow?

How does it feel to deeply relate to the powerful human cry in a raspy voice, a harmonica and the simple strums of an acoustic guitar?

How does it feel when music explains to you just how beautiful life's absurdity is?

How does it feel to let the music fill you with depth, to let it heal your many broken hearts, to let it exacerbate your moments of excesses?

How does it feel to have this intensity become irreplaceable?

How does it feel to mature alongside a late discovery of his quirky folk music, of his protest songs, of his blues, of his gospel, of his unwelcome electric sound?

How does it feel to hear the soundtrack of your growth sung close to your ear?

Bob Dylan concert at Terminal 5, New York City. November, 2010.
Pictures by Erika