Thursday, October 13, 2011

While Icing My Leg

There's something to say about older black and white mysteries... low-fi clarinet and violin sound tracks, dimly lit viscous plots that continually thicken up to the point when the culprit is finally revealed.
Combine these with rustling leaves on a windy night, a hearth full of flames... a blanket and a pot of coffee and... I'm good.