Baby Benny Wildfire

A musical visual linguistic inferno cultivated in the Niagara Escarpment. Many hear the fire crackling, but few ever smell it's smoke, or see it in action, for it is so very tiny, and only occurs in the crevasses.

There’s always a place at which to start and not again; just to start.  Always a place to end and not again; just to end.  All you’ve ever done, complete within an ongoing procession or a mission statement evolving every moment.