She is in an all-night diner, making people fall in love with her. She does not mean to do it and they do not mean to let her. But she is inevitable. There is no protection against the flashing of her eyes, the movement of her shoulders and music of her hands.
These poor souls have no way of not losing themselves- in her voice and the things it says, the truths it reveals…she is a child…she is a mother…she is a minister…she reminds them of something and makes them forget something else…she is jazz and she is classical…she is a lonely acoustic guitar that cries on a street corner in a small town.
-christian kindschy, 2002
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