Getting ready to go and see Patti Smith in Detroit. It is just one of those once in a lifetime things - listening to her in my favorite room at the Detroit Institute of Art, listening to her read in a very small audience. The woman flaneur of our time, part wolf, part watcher. Deep and dark traveller. I smell sandalwood when I watch this and feel the rough wool of old fabrics. I sense a fierce shaman and I pierce Ontario with trains. I cross borders so I may meet her. Follow this blog