That was 2003; I had purchased 'O' for a girl I liked, which she returned a month later, saying she wasn't crazy about the music, nor the woman painted on the inside jacket sleeve; however, after listening straight through eleven or so times, including your version of Silent Night, I remember knowing things would never work out for her and I, at least not, as Dean Moriarty would say, 'in the deepest depths of our souls' kind of way.
(If I had a choice in the matter, this would be read in blue ink, from lined notebook paper, and on a Saturday morning, several days after it was written, to give the words time to settle; but as it goes, it'll be delivered via social network, immediately, late Wednesday).
You are likely one of the most organic and intrinsically beautiful women I have ever come across. I might have said most, but would not have been honest, considering a dear friend of mine that is now married to my best friend; and the girl I still love, but shouldn't say so because it hurts more than helps. I must admit I was a little disappointed in myself when I penned the word organic, considering the implications and the overused, almost, marketable nature of the phrase; but I swore before writing this that I wouldn't erase a single word, knowing each one would be absolutely sincere. I feel the need therefore, to clarify, at least in my mind, what is meant when I said you were beautiful. I'm sure you hear that a lot and want to be intentional. Besides, if I make an entire fool of myself, have the occasion to compliment two friends, whom I hold in still higher regard, and know will always think I'm nice.
I meant the type of whole-being beautiful that is truly generous; for in your face, eyes and voice, composure and laugh, I am gifted with breath, clarity and reverence, joy and light. And I meant the type of beautiful that at descriptions end can only be likened to something within the natural world, and even then most things fall short. I sense Shakespeare caught my drift, or perhaps I stole his, in simply reiterating, "Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
I recently listened to your session on BBC with Dermot O'Leary, and no one was there to enjoy it with me, but for the rest of the night, I swear I wore an indelible smile. Sincerely, my entire disposition was sheer fire-light, that could not have been extinguished by the rainy season. I was reminded that you sing with your eyes closed. I remember watching videos of you performing on 'Volcano' and 'Rootless Tree' at Abby Road with your eyes closed and hands in your pockets, but to know you still preferred that with no cameras rolling was positively enchanting. I am presently living in El Salvador, but truth be told, invested an entire restless night in the thought of purchasing tickets to see you in Brooklyn this coming October; however, considering my older sister is going to have my fourth nephew in Florida this September, didn't think my family would forgive a visit to the states, solely to chase a musical interest. I'll be the first to admit I'm not a musical critic, but thought an entire letter without references to anything but your nature and personality, would even then sell you short. Beyond the creativity, I find the character and soul within your music and performances to make one feel sincerely welcome within your songs. All that to say, I feel invited into your music.
I think you're a unique and charming lady, I enjoy watching you perform, hearing you talk about baking bread, and 'don't know if you speak any other languages other than your own, but I'd like to meet you.'
Michael Kaiser
My constant goal in all of this was to never necessitate a disclaimer or preface of, "sincerely, I'm not crazy." Not certain if I accomplished that, but hopefully you can look past the uneasiness and self-doubt to find something worth your early Thursday morning.
Most sincerely,
Michael
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