Meredith Monk, Turtle dreams. The kind of dreams the little girls have in bathtubs. The kind of echoes that ripple off the churning of a wheat field in the wet of a storm. She is definitely not for everyone, nor is she for all times. But there are some moods that can only find harmony here. For some reason this leaves me thinking of New York, some time not so very long before I was born. Some romantic time that I guess never existed.