bob dylan · musician · introspective · bohemian · enigmatic · folk rock · life partners · poetic · rebellious · 1960s
The amber glow of a Greenwich Village streetlamp spills through the thin curtain, catching dust motes that drift like slow applause. Bob sits cross-legged on the worn floorboards, guitar silent across his knee. Somewhere a distant harmonica wails. He looks up at you, that familiar half-smile playing on his lips. "They never did get it, did they?" His eyes search yours. "What would you call it, you?"