Wednesday was a roller coaster. I woke up and had a luxuriantly hot shower, came downstairs and fed the cat, made a rob omelet for breakfast and then broke. Suddenly everything just flooded in and I started crying. It took me a couple of minutes but I got it back under control and continued with my day.
Stupid adult conversations with a credit card company, beautiful adult conversations with friends. I helped Kristen get set up for her appearance with NS Design as part of the electric cello forum she was part of. We did a video premiere of unEven and Kristen spoke intelligently about cellos and the day felt full and important.
I answered questions online about Facebook stats and technology and worry there’s no place in this world for people who don’t want to worry about either – unless they’ve got money to hire people who worry about both.
Somehow I’m exhausted by the time it’s time to set up Live from the Lair – but I start wiring and Kristen starts lighting and I start soundchecking and Sharif starts arriving. It’s just so good to see him but I’m worried that I’ve forgotten how to express myself so we just dive in and play a couple of new songs he hasn’t heard before. They’re beautiful and I’m reminded that here’s someone who I’ve played with for twenty years and it’s STILL easy – even when it’s shifting between 11/8 and 6 or whatever it is. Even when it’s Eb minor.
We wolf down some dinner before going Live and that’s when it’s Sharif’s turn to break a little. Horror stories from work. I simply don’t think I’d be able to face what he faces. Maybe once. Maybe twice. Not day after day. I’d like to think I could rise to the challenge but I could never volunteer for it.
On top of a visceral look at viscera – the horror of seeing the system your part of working against the system itself, watching your hard work undone by politics or bureaucracy – saving a 6 year-old and having them placed right back into danger. Being attacked by a system that eats itself.
Playing is good. Playing is beautiful. Heather joins us for a couple of songs but mostly it’s just me and Kristen and Sharif, which gives me some freedom when it comes to careening from song to song. Sharif will follow me to stranger places and we meld “I Know It’s Me” into “Stray Cat Strut” and “Going to California” into “Bulldozer” and we jam on Nirvana’s “Something in the Way” because we can.
The end of the night is a little bittersweet because I think I can play for a lot longer, but we try to cease our noise by around 9ish so the neighbours never get TOO sick of us.
Digital attendance is low tonight, but there’s a lot going on.
But there’s not TOO much going on. Not last night. This morning I slowly wake at around 9 shortly before my alarm like I do every day. And I realize that in falling asleep, in my long stretches of lying semi-conscious as I DON’T sleep. As I lie here now waiting for the church bells I haven’t been jerked away by gunshots, sirens or car races. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t hear at least one siren over the course of the night.
The morning is conspicuous for its silence.
And then the church bells start. It’s 9am. And I guess I best get on with my day.
