On a weekend early in the last crazy decade I met Rafael Bejarano near a water tank up in the northern corner of Colorado. The occasion was a recording session and gathering of musicians, shamans and artists around and inside of what has since become a recording studio and was even then one of the sonic wonders of the world. I listened to him play the didjeridoo along with my friend Michael Stanwood and we sang together and posed with everyone for photos. We were the two ‘Rafaels,’ he like Kokopelli with his didgeridoo and me with my drum and wizard’s staff. I didn’t know him well but I sensed a sweet and caring man. He was a being who carried with him healing and beauty.
Yesterday he was killed along with 11 other tourists in a land torn by war and fear.
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