Caucasian woman, late 20s, with brown hair parted hard on the side, wearing black jacket with hood, blue jeans and Red Wing Engineers.
Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love: A Journey to the End of Taste (33 1/3), Carl Wilson (Continuum)
Page 32:
If you have never heard Celine Dion in French, it's hard to believe it's the same singer. Her cadences are much more supple and controlled, her interpretations more detailed. Gone is the blank persona that reduces many of her English songs to vocal stunt work, replaced by what can only be called soul.
Sleep came easy for the first time in a long time. Morning feels like morning, sun hitting her cheek peripherally, coffee a taste of bitter, the salt and sweet of croissant distinguishable, tummy free of stress, and shoulders of fatigue. The words nestle into place, a conscious gathering, meaning, for the first time in a long time, coming easy, coming home.
1 comment:
You write very well.
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