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I've been looking for Pavorotti lately. I'm not an opera fan, but I think Pavarotti would be perfect to drive home with. Seventy down the bypass chasing the beam of my headlights. With Pavarotti.

 

BB King makes my heart break in a beautiful way. Counting Crows shows me the shape and size and colour and weight of all my regrets and doubts and failings. Tupac is the reassuring hand on my shoulder reminding me that as long as I'm alive I have it in me to fight, and as long as I can fight, I have it in me to overcome.

Mary J moves me like red moons rising and setting. Billie Holiday electrifies my skin and Yvonne Chaka Chaka drowns me in sun and warmth and ocean water.

 

You've got to have music when you move.