Herego is the old quilt on your mother’s couch in the house that you grew up in. Like an old familiar friend, it curls around you with an odor reminiscent of gingerbread and perfume. You know Herego; it has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember. Indeed, it has been a bud in the mind of this folk artist for as long as he's known what the calloused feel of guitar strings against the pads of his fingers is. Like the cold nights of October, Herego is the wool sweater you pull on before walking amongst the reddened, dropping leaves; intense, yet caressing, commanding and promising.