Sunday started with an excellent practice session – despite ice and snow, ilyAIMY came together and worked out some hairy spots on LooseN, Choke Cherry, and a couple of other tunes – just jamming around for half the night as well. We spent the night at Alfred’s in preparation for our trip south the next day.
Alfred’s very particular about his space, and I don’t think he even knows how much he likes company until he gets it. But I spent a long time in the basement, pacing back and forth, reacquainting myself with my five-string, while watching Al work Photoshop – he’s a true painter with it, and it’s just a pleasure to watch him work the application. I know that probably sounds pretty nerdy – but there’s such beauty in watching someone do what they do best – and he makes mouse and keyboard commands sing with the elegance of glaze and paint.
Originally an airbrush artist – Airbrushing has a special mechanical finesse – all one finger on the nozzle, one on the trigger, rocking the controls back and forth – like playing a flute almost. It’s something I never mastered, but Al brought that grace to a PC. It’s beautiful to watch.
Monday was rough though – it started so beautiful, with Tristan sitting in a sunbeam, and my toes flirting back and forth with … cold tile in shade… warm tile in sun… cold tile… warm tile… cold tile…
Driving out into the cold sun, squinting South-bound and heading to Richmond – I felt we played so well at Riverdale’s Used Bookshop a couple of days back – I was filled with high spirits and optimism. But that sort of came tumbling down a little with a disappointing booking conversation and traffic.
Fortunately, the open mic went really well – but… oh yeah, we didn’t sell but one CD.
It was a rough Monday. The only thing that’s been keeping me going is the warm sunshine of Chelsea and Beau. They just radiate kindness and… stuff. Maybe it’s the hippie inside of them – Beau’s song “Unexpected Guests” totally explains their attitude towards us.
Part of it, I’m sure, is the fact that we are Living the Dream – we are where they want to be in a couple of months, travelling with guitars and songs and the kindness of strangers.
On Luck on Fumes on Spit on Love – it may be my lyric, but Heather really couldn’t have chosen a better title.
Today we went to lunch at a Western-themed restaraunt that I think Heather’s Dad would have really Loved. I had an amazing crab-cake sandwich, and admired the Christmas decor mixed with old wooden farm equipment and hanging six-shooters.
We came back and played music, half-practicing for tomorrow, half just sort of jamming around. Heather and Chelsea’s voices twined to make a bizarre Indigo Girls-esque version of “Sweet Child of Mine” by Guns N Roses.
For dinner we went over to Chelsea’s parents’ house and ate the best pizza I’ve ever had… and then played more music. Chelsea’s dad is a pretty talented guitar player, and we had a great time running through our own songs, some Chelsea and Beau tunes, and a couple of random covers. I got to play her Dad’s Paul Reed Smith, and his new acoustic bass. For as much as I dislike Tacoma guitars, their basses are wonderful creatures.
Through out the night, I’m wandering through the house, noting microscopes, tiny tiny anvils, miscellaneous tool benches and miniscule tools – and I’m trying to figure out what this man does for a Living – it turns out he’s a jeweller, and he showed me his photo portfolio, and dragged out a bunch of old pieces – incredible work. From modern rings to Celtic knots, all sorts of gold and silver and jewels. Beautiful things.
That’s when it was revealed that the harp in the next room was his new project. It’s a beautiful instrument – he’s thinking of moving on to guitars soon. I’ll be excited to come back and see how THAT goes.
Ok – enough typing out of me, I know that enough has happened and I’ve been slacking enough that I’m just sort of stating facts, and not putting the artistry into it that I should be. I feel bad when I type like that. I think I might just be interested in reading and going to bed.