"The Moon & St. Christopher" (for Heather Robinson. St. Hilare d'Ozlilhan)
I coughed-up this very small piece (7"x10") up between 4 am this morning (started the pencil part last night, however) and now (which is about 9 am on a foggy Saturday morning).
 
Heather writes the very fine blog "Lost in Arles".  go to: http://lostinarles.blogspot.com/
 
The title is taken from an "old" Mary Chapin Carpenter song.....go to:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cgZCbHcp1JE
 
Here. it's sung by one of my favorite (for almost thirty years?) singers, Mary Black.  I recall meeting her (twice, in fact) at a dinner-party  at a house on Dublin's Ring Road in the late 80's.  For varous reasons, I was still so self-referential (at age 26 or so) that I ended up discussing music with her and playing a recording of "Anachie Gordon" for her, while I explained how/why it was so wonderful.  She never mentioned that, actually, it was her recording.  The friend I'd been staying with later explained to me that she (and she is VERY well-known in Ireland and elsewhere) was utterly delighted to find that I had no idea that she was herself. She probably also figured out that I knew her only from pirated mixtapes sans the cover art/photographs.
 
In any case, I expect Heather will understand why I thought of this song in regard to her and her longtime partner, the travel photographer, Remi Benali (Herve owns three of Remi's fine pictures). Heather and Remi have taken a lot of "scary" chances in pursuing their work/lives over the years.  I'm glad to say that Remi, just this past month, has a full-length/feature-article in National Geographic.  (go to: http://lostinarles.blogspot.com/2014/03/remis-story-in-national-geographic.html


When I was young I spoke like a child, and I saw with a child's eyes
And an open door was to a girl like the stars are to the sky
It's funny how the world lives up to all your expectations
With adventures for the stout of heart, and the lure of the open spaces

There's 2 lanes running down this road, whichever side you're on
Accounts for where you want to go, or what you're running from
Back when darkness overtook me on a blind man's curve

I relied upon the moon, I relied upon the moon
I relied upon the moon and Saint Christopher
Now I've paid my dues because I have owed them, but I've paid a price sometimes
For being such a stubborn woman in such stubborn times

 I have run from the arms of lovers, I have run from the eyes of friends
I have run from the hands of kindness; I have run just because I can

But now I'm grown, and I speak like a woman, and I see with a woman's eyes
And an open door is to me now like the saddest of goodbyes
It's too late for turning back, I pray for the heart and the nerve

And I rely upon the moon, I rely upon the moon
I rely upon the moon and Saint Christopher

I rely upon the moon, I rely upon the moon
I rely upon the moon and Saint Christopher