Dean’s fingers on the strings have developed some inner sense of the rise and fall. In his guitar-playing a thoughtfulness resounds—an acknowledgement of silence’s never-ending play within the sound. Given the written notes, he can bring out the soul they contain. Given a band at play, and a doorway into the tune, he can step into the current and let it carry him, can guide it even, as it slides through the air. Dean is a guitarist, has always been a guitarist, a poet with six distinct voices and no words.