I’m tempted to say, “If you are not listening to Van Morrison, you are not listening.” But I won’t say it. I’ll just think it instead.

A friend once told me the thing which sets Van’s music apart from others was his quest for beauty. I’d never thought about such a quest before. And certainly not in relation to music. Music was about cool and awesome. But I remembered that sentiment. It stayed with me and grew to point of me laying down some hard-earned cash on a Van Morrison disc. I only knew a couple songs. But I grew to love them all. I listened to it for weeks. Then I bought another and another. And more and more.

I have over 40 of his albums. Some of them are rare bootlegs. All of them are ‘desert island discs.’ Jazz. Blues. Country. Soul. Celtic. R&B. Pop. It’s all there. And full of beauty. The kind of beauty that takes up residence inside you, puts its feet up and rests there for a lifetime.

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