These days at The Palace are quieter, more introspective, but we won’t be here forever. Write a letter, read a book, spin a record.
A memory from a road a long time ago.
Tonight at The Palace we burn all the rules.
Let’s remember everything worth remembering, and let go of the rest.
Objects and memory are forever.
It’s all music: poems, songs, records, books. Now, and through the ages.
Let’s all meet again in a year’s time, and be in a better place.
All we have is what we have right now.
On the eve of endings, it feels like winter with every breath.
The Palace is a meanness-free zone.