• Feb.23,2018 San Pancho Music Festival, Mexico
  • Jan.20,2018 The Old Mill Toronto, Home Smith Bar
  • Sept.30,2017 All That Jazz & More, at the Minden Legion
  • Aug. 5, 2017 Private Party, Carnarvon, ON
  • Aug. 4, 2017 Music by the Gull, Minden, ON
  • Aug. 2, 2017 The Nice Bistro, Whitby ON
  • May 17, 2017 The Nice Bistro, Whitby, ON
  • April 29, 2017 Minden Cultural Centre, Minden, ON
  • March 24,2017 The Old Mill Toronto, Home Smith Bar
  • Feb.26,2017 San Pancho Music Fest. Mexico
  • Nov.5, 2016 Radio Hall, CanoeFM, Haliburton, ON
  • Nov. 2, 2016 le Nice Bistro, Whitby, ON
  • Sept. 4, 2016 The Red Umbrella Inn, Minden, ON
  • July 26, 2016, Head Lake Park, Haliburton, ON
  • Jan. 29, 2016, The Home Smith Bar at the Old Mill, Toronto
  • Oct.23, 2015 Gate 403
  • Sept. 9 The Nice Bistro, Whitby, ON
  • August 22, Gate 403, Toronto
  • August 14, Music by the Gull, Minden, ON
  • July 29 Hugh's Room, Toronto
  • June 13, Gate 403,Toronto

Wednesday, February 14, 2018


Yes, I have been going crazy trying to find a vendor of coconut water. Usually I see them on the street here in the tiny pueblo in Mexico, but of course, since I was sick, and still (pity me) not the hearty girl I usually am, I have not been able to catch him. And it's so health-producing.
So today I went down the cursed huge hill to the main street, and wandered there in the heat until I did in fact locate the stall. Got the coco water, got the coconut meat, and started back in the noonday sun, where only mad dogs and Englishmen go, up that goddamn cursed hill again to return home.

At that time of day, the shade is disappearing, but there was a patch half-way up, and a good thing too, because I had to stop for a rest, and get my breath back. I stood there, put my packages down, and it was there that I felt it - the breeze that was high today; the summer wind - and that put me in mind of the song, and that in turn put me in mind of dancing to that song with someone many years ago. Oh, it seems so far back now that it's like a dream, but I did dance then, and it was oh, so romantic. Remembering the romance put me in mind that it is St. Valentine's Day today, the day for romance, and there I was, alone on a dusty road, with only memories.

I guess memories are worth something. At least they're better than having no memories, better than never having lived, or loved, blah blah, blah blah. I have certainly lived, and I will certainly keep on living, and maybe, if the timing is right, loving. For the present, though, the summer wind felt good, there on the cursed hill and the dust that covers everything. I was right beside an over-sized mausoleum of the graveyard, which put me in mind of the poppies I planted once at my (then) new house in the countryside of Ontario. I called the little garden "The Graveyard of Broken Dreams", and waited for the poppies to bloom, as I wait now for new love, and for my breath to return.

Meanwhile, after being sick, and after I had emptied my body, via some kind of bug, of everything inside me, I was inspired to create a quite lovely tune, with lyrics, which I named, "Empty of Love". Like Edith Piaf, "je repars à zero" - I am starting again at zero. It's a very good song, one I think Diana Krall should record, and one of these days, I might write her and suggest it. Just gotta get my strength, and nerve, up. Here I am, silhouetted as I am moved by the muse the day I wrote it, and then again today, and here as well, is a pretty little Valentine's heart, with wishes for love for this loco world.

No comments:

Post a Comment