Sandy had just been voted Vocalist of the Year - I had to hear her! (I had beeen interested in folk for years prior to that: I remember Roy Acuff's Open House also, a country/folk TV program from the USA from the late 50's and also a few Australian music programs which featured local and overseas acts. Gary Shearston, Lionel Long, Marion Hendersdon and Trevor Lucas were well-known folkies.) So I followed up the albums mentioned in the article - Fotheringay was where I first heard Sandy. This album (now in CD mode with extra tracks) is still played at home regularly and it still has the most extraordinary atmosphere - there has not been another record like it. Soon after that (1971) I acquired Liege and Lief by Fairport. Since then I have been involved in a process of acquiring all FC members'other musics; then introducing friends and relatives to the whole catalogue since that time. Highlights have been Sandy's visits to Australia with the Fairport lineups which included TL, Swarb, Peggy, DM, JD and eventually BR on drums. The Opera House was no doubt the most memorable - and my friends and I are on the album! I will pay my respects at Sandy's resting place this year (98) after Cropredy. The memories will linger always.

Peter Herring, Sydney, Australia.

Painting between the Rainfall

Searching through prysmic eyes
for words which define the moments
standing between yesterday and tomorrow

The literal has become
what so often has been,
the poet's choice of forever,

sandpaper walls surround the silent one
searching for a place to lean
searching for a soul to glean,
searching for a way to clean
the emptiness that fills her

Desperately the words take shape
in their silent surroundings
the heart's gentle poundings
it's search for understanding
in the midst of life undone

Letters roll, they are the hills
in distance
journeys seek them far from done
but have yet begun

Reader, do you hear me?
standing before your skies,
soft fragrance of souls
you've barely known
of roses too, and ashphalt burning...
I am silence...darkness, I am kisses yearning

what is the poet? what is the friend?
do the words shaping between them
forsee their end?

Tish Ballentine - July 1998