The little guitarist girl turns her back and jumps a little, jiggling pert bottom towards the audience under the high-top canvas tent. She had raised the hopes of every red blooded male and dashed the dreams of all the single girls, packed as they are like plastic sliced cheese, sweating under ponchos that keep out the drizzling rain.
Festival music. The sky has roiled in the disturbance. A cooling cloudburst settles over a music festival that draws the people like it is a mating ritual of Norse gods, loud and contemptuous. Her leather fringe shimmies and strings of thunder sing.


Digitally altered photo of Joanne Shaw Taylor at Bluesfest 2014. [Original photo by John Snelson.]


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