In the Summer of 2015, my wife and I were the grateful caretakers of three cats, a small piece of pecan-tree studded Texas hill country earth, and a yoga studio that was once the site of the neighborhood grocery store just a stones throw from Eddie Durham's house. Durham, born in 1906, was one of the swing era's most important figures and San Marcos' most famous citizen. He was the first person to record an amplified guitar in 1935, and influenced fellow Texan, Charlie Christian, who recorded electric guitar the following year. Beneath a triptych of huge Ganesh paintings, and under watchful eyes of portraits of Yogi Ramsuratkumar, Lee Losowick, and Swami Ramdas I set up my 4-track tape machine, a Japanese guitar I bought in North Carolina when I was out on tour with L.A. funk band Orgone that had once belonged to 91-year-old Nellie Fields (I know this because her name and number were written in sharpie on the inside of the body through the f-hole), my Fender P-bass and a handsome little faux-wood boxed Whippany Electronics Rhythmmaster drum-machine from the seventies. In 100 degree Texas summer heat and humidity I recorded tracks and ideas and then improvised with the trumpet over my homespun grooves. In order to add life to the drum machine sound, I recorded the sound of, stomping, beating my fists on the Yoga room floor, shouting, and multi tracked natural room-reverb-soaked clapping in addition to sometimes employing an African cowbell I received as a gift from a friend and bandmate in Taos, New Mexico when I was playing in a brass band/singer songwriter experiment. The questions I asked when entering the studio went along the lines of "Can my music be a blessing?" "Can My Music Heal?" and "What does music intended to bless and give thanks sound like?". I would then begin the layering process. I would attempt to maintain the purity of thought throughout the sessions and return always to these questions, if I found my mind wandering, or was unsatisfied with the answers given, I would walk away from the workspace, spend some time with the kitties or step outside to watch the white-winged doves explode across the sky to and from the giant pecan tree in the church parking lot across the street. After about a month, I found that I had filled up about a half a dozen cassettes, I took these and painstakingly transferred the tracks (one track at a time since I didn't have the technology to do more than that) from the tape machine to the computer. I then signed up for an Ableton Live 30 day free trial and began the editing and mixing process. What I ended up with at the end of 30 days was the starting point, in fact over the next year I would attach a Radio Shack eighth-inch cable from the output and back into the input and 'mix down' the tracks as best as I could to another audio program I had running at the same time. This part took a great deal of trial and error, and was extremely time consuming because I could no longer save my work in the Ableton workstation. I maintained a prayerful and calm attitude throughout and feel that I ushered the blessing inspiration from the space, from the silence, from the sadhana, from my surroundings, through the instruments, through the magnets, through the preamps, through the cables and finally into the form you have here. This album was intended as a tribute, homage, and humble thank you note to my teachers, sustainers, hosts, supporters, friends, and champions seen and unseen. Blessings, J.Ricci/Bonbaoui