I made a friend named William in 1976. He was a poet, an artist. He gave me the wind that carries art. His house was across the street from a famous dead sculptors home and studio. It was surrounded by a bamboo forest. Will and I were gardeners. Will didn't live in the world of shopping malls or new cars. Whenever I was sad or confused back then I would go over to Will's house and drink tea and listen to his music and talk about William Carlos Williams or mulch. Will passed away six years ago. When I'm sad or confused I can no longer go over to his house across from the dead sculptors home and studio but I can still listen to his music and find some peace.