scared thrilled scared thrill scared thrilled

I find most things in life both scary and thrilling. I suppose I should hope it's always this way, but sometimes it feels like an awful lot of work.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Paris. City of (fill in the blank)

Here are a few shots of Paris.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

The rain in France falls mainly on the pants.

After a wonderful week in Burgundy I am back in Paris. And it's raining.
I've attached some pictures. The first is the garden I finished (King Louis would be proud) with Chateau Changey (where I was staying) in the background. The next two are the dog, Sushi, who is also dissapointed with the rain. The last is a view of the rainy street from my window. I'm staying in Baptiste's room. The bed's a bit short, but other than that quite comfy.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Into the looking glass.

As I took those first halting steps into the unknown it became immediately clear that the world, my world, has changed forever. It's a new planet I'm visiting now, and whether the future brings me back round to the places I've known and loved or on into the bright, but lonely, newness, I know the act of those steps has made its mark.
So, about this new world:
I arrived in London Thursday. Excellent timing, as my good pal and former band-mate Johnny 5 was playing in town with Tegan and Sara (like Tintin's Tomson and Thompson, only shorter moustaches). So I connected with my hosts, Lor and David, then met up with Nic (another friend from Nasvhille times) and her mother. Nic's mother is exactly like her, only more crazy, if you can believe that. I suggest we refer to her as "mother superior". Nic added "mother inferior", and Janice named herself "mother posterior". Oh my but we all had a good larf! The show was great. Johnny played with more vivre than I've ever seen from him. Really fun times.
So, after spending all but two hours of Tuesday night packing, Wednesday night on the plane and Thursday night...not in bed, I departed for France early Friday morning. I've said for a while that I choose to ignore the idea of jet lag and it seems to work out fine. The problem with jet leg is that it's kind of like God. As they say, it doesn't matter if you don't believe in jet lag; jet lag believes in you. Suffice--> i discovered i was fine as long as I didn't sit down.

It was wonderful to be back in Paris. Not that I needed it, but it was good to be reminded why I fell in love with that city. I spent the day there, just wandering and visiting old haunts: the place where we used to drink beers after long days in sessions, the spot on the canal where would pass around bottles of white wine and paper cups, the apartment where I stayed (tried to ring up but seems noone was home), the shop where I bought my favourite shoes of all time (if that seems an unlikely attraction you have not seen how cool are these shoes), the café where I went with friends to eat ice cream after watching a film. It was beautiful. I left that evening via train for Burgundy. My good friend Anne-Lorraine's family has a "house" (read "pre-revolution mansion") in a little village near Beaune (wine drinkers will know where this is, and would be enraged with jealousy if I was callous enough to let them know what we drink out of tumblers with dinner...). At any rate, this place deserves many entries of its own, and this one is already long enough, so I bid you adieu.

Here are a couple of pics.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

The World on this side of the door.

It's 7:21 am the morning of my departure. I've been packing my apartment all night. Tried to sleep but after an hour I was woken by a very disturbing nightmare involving Billy Corgan...
It's been an unbelievable week. I feel like this is the craziest day of my life. I'm standing at the doorway of a new and strange world. I've been scared to take this step for a long time now, because I know what I leave behind. I really love this city. In the four years I've lived here I don't think there's been a day where I haven't stopped at some point, made speechless by how beautiful this place is. The mountains and the trees and all those clear bodies of water from which we draw our strength. And there are people... harder by far of course... My last night at Canlis was a dream come true. Sitting in the bar with a guitar, joined at various times by my brother Josh, Walt (seriously...) and Jeremy P. There was so much honest communication and love flowing around that room. We stayed for hours. It was less like a concert than a group therapy session. I felt like everyone was a participant. it was the kind of moment I dream about, and the kind I cherish forever.
And of course we ended up in the lake at some silly hour. It had to happen... It's one of the things I love most in the world: swimming in that lake, at night, with people I love. Laughing and collapsing on the dock in a big nest of blankets and towels and wet hair. It's magical. It's what summers are for. I need to continue packing. Ciao chow!