Sowing some wild oats

I camped on the edge of a pea farm—a long, open field of green surrounded by trees in the distance. My station wagon was parked beside the old farmhouse (a hundred years old they tell me), and with the back seats folded down, I had the ideal little bed, sleeping next to my guitar and backpack. When the morning sun snuck around the corner of the house and started beating in through the car windows, I took my blanket out to the tree in the front yard and stretched out under a wide canopy of branches and leaves. And that’s where I stayed all morning.

This was the site of Wild Oats and Notes, a music festival outside Tofield, Alberta, where I rediscovered summer. I played on Sunday, but the festival ran all weekend and we got to hang out with some old and new friends under the intense summer sun, just trying to keep cool and soaking up some great music.

On Sunday especially, the heat was INTENSE! I took the cue from some kids in an ice fight and drenched myself with ice, sought shade, any respite from the heat. I can’t tell you about the sweet joy of celebrating the end of my set with a cold beer. Some things go together like peanut butter and jelly—and beer and hot summer days are definitely one of those timeless pairings.

Wish I had a picture of the stage, emerging from one end of the grain bin; camps hidden in the trees around the farm fields; the old blacksmith shop. But since I didn’t have a camera, you’ll have to recreate the scene yourself. Better yet, just indulge in your own nostalgic summer sanctuary of sweet heat.

The summer holds a spattering of festivals and some good time for creating music. I’ve been co-writing with Danny Fortier while I’m in town and getting totally immersed in the creative process. At the end of August, I’ll be heading on a short tour to the west coast, so keep posted for details!

Enjoy the sun…

23 March - Happy Easter

I am much healed since my last entry. No shows on Easter Sunday, and I am blessed to be able to spend the day with family in Welland. Anna and Michael Olson are well known chefs, so I'm not only grateful to be with family, but thankful for the beautiful food and company I get to share it with!

The day begins with a slow, succulent brunch featuring some amazing breads from Michael and Anna's bakery in St. Catharines. We're all committed to rest today. I'll finish my book and finally get to play around with the guitar. For three days, songs have been sprouting up from the fertile silences of my long drive from Saskatchewan and I'm eager to start piecing them together with some music. I quarantine myself to the tower--a tiny room with windows on three sides--in Michael and Anna's house and let the music flow as I watch the trees outside sway and the sun melt the snow.

Anna is currently launching a new television series on the Food Network called "Fresh". I'm fortunate enough to be featured in an episode when I came to Welland and performed for a local charity with Don Kerr. I'll keep you posted about when that airs (the episode is titled "House Concert"), but in the meantime, check out "Fresh's" website to see when you can catch the show!

21 March - Sick as a dog in Sault Ste. Marie

I suppose every tour has it's low points, and this time it hits in Sault Ste. Marie. The gig at Loplop's was great--awesome to reunite with some friends there. Met a great couple who have recently escaped the Toronto lifestyle and found an island outside Sault Ste. Marie, where they are constructing their own sanctuary. I tell them about the Ananda Arts House, another sanctuary or island of sorts, and it's fantastic swapping stories about the virtues of grounding oneself in nature.

But by the end of the night, I'm feeling a bit woozy and I wish I could say it was alcohol induced, but it wasn't. I return to my hotel, just in time to get violently ill. For the rest of this sleepless night, I am getting sick (and am thankful I didn't take Frank and Rachel's offer of accommodations. Couldn't imagine exposing them to this!)

By the time checkout rolls around the next morning, I'm in no shape to depart, still confined to bed. So I extend my stay and try to convince myself that I'll be feeling better by the time I have to drive to Sudbury and play the show that night. This miracle does not unfold as planned, and I end up having to cancel the show (hope the Townehouse forgives me...). I spend one more long, uncomfortable, miserable day and night in that hotel before healing up enough to get back on the road.

You'll be thankful that I have no pictures to accompany this entry...

Winnipeg to Sault Ste. Marie--a lesson in trail mix

Trail mix hierarchy as discovered driving from Winnipeg to Sault Ste. Marie:

Pick past the papaya to get to the dried pineapple
Pick past the raisins to get to the dried papaya
Pick past the soy nuts to get the raisins
Pick past the almonds to get the soy nuts
Pick past the sunflower seeds to get to the almonds
Pick past the peanuts to get to the sunflower seeds

Find a squirrel and distribute peanuts freely.

18 March - Winnipeg and eastward

Hazel is my adorable hostess in Winnipeg, and it's good to visit with her parents of course--Devin and Keri from the band Nathan. But the visit is far too brief. I'm off to a show with Katie Murphy, at the swanky Tryst Lounge. We pull out a great crowd and have a groovy evening.

As I continue the drive eastward, small towns and distinct provinces are united in their expressions of spring fever. The CBC is talking about signs of spring, and I'm listening to people across the country mimic bird calls, as I zip along Lake Superior, watching the water and feeling the sun melt the ice and snow in the ditches along the clear highway. It's a beautiful trip. I'm particularly impressed by the festive ladies at the Co-op, who are sporting bunny ears and easter bunnies and confess to idulging in a couple chocolate easter eggs!


I'm on my way to one of my favorite venues: Loplop's in Sault Ste. Marie. Frank Deresti will open the show, and I can't wait to hear him perform. Check out his duo, the Granola People!

17 Mar - St. Patrick's day

I brought Sam back to Regina so he could take the bus back to Saskatoon, and I had a night off before heading back east, which means I got to hang out with Marian!

Marian took me to a family dinner, which is indeed an noteworthy event given the magnitude of her family! It's a totally chaotic experience of names and faces and beautiful noise. For this Irish family, the meal was an important celebration of St. Patrick’s Day, though hardly as significant as little Meg’s sixth birthday (an occasion that introduces me to Polly Pockets??)

Marian’s dad in fact was able to provide a very satisfactory history of St. Pat before we indulge in birthday cake with green icing AND sprinkles! We take home shamrock shaped sugar cookies with green icing, made by Marian's mom and subdivided into tupperware for each family. Talk about food infused with love.

When we're home, Marian and I sit up chatting over tea and avoiding random, violent attacks from her kitten Buddy, who likes to flail himself and our heads and bodies without warning. We survive a number of scratches and clawings until at last, Buddy is sequestered to the basement.

Grace from Ananda Arts House

O lord, refresh our sensibilities

Give us this day our daily taste.

Restore to us soups that spoons will not sink in,
and sauces which are never the same twice.

Take away our feat of fat, and make us glad of the oil which ran upon Aaron’s beard.

Above all, give us grace to live as true humans—to fast till we come to a refreshed sense of what we have and then to dine gratefully on all that comes to hand.

Set us free once more in our own land, where we shall serve thee as thou hast blessed us—with the dew of heaven, the fatness of the earth, and plenty of corn and wine.

Amen.

(copied from the wall of the kitchen at the Ananda Arts House)

15 Mar - Ananda Arts House

The night before I left Saskatoon for the eastern swing of my national tour, I dreamt that I was lost on the ferry. We were on an enormous boat, my lover and I, and when I left him, I couldn’t find my way back. I wandered through floors and staircases, took elevators and passageways, and could not find my way back. Finally, I managed to find a phone and call him in an effort to get some bearings. Unbeknownst to me, the ferry had docked and he had disembarked while I was wandering through the deep innards of the ferry. I was still on the ferry and it was heading back. I was lost. Utterly lost.

The dream couldn't contrast more the sanctuary that I encounter on the first night back on tour. The Ananda Arts House is an island that rises out of the deep prairie, southeast of Regina in Forget, Saskatchewan. All the way to Forget, I was nursing that familiar heartache that comes from leaving--my home, my lover. But when we pulled up to the old brick house which is Ananda, Don and Shannon came out on the front porch with a beautiful warm welcome that immediately healed my heart.

The welcoming committee!

The house is a picture of beauty and color, with a small stage, sound system, and lighting to accommodate the regular concert series that brings an eager crowd of music lovers and Ananda supporters. The rooms are painted with vibrant and soothing shades—the walls have sayings and prayers and inspirational messages inscribed on them, reminding visitors that this is a sanctuary and each gathering is meaningful.

In such an environment, the music simply flows and the show is amazing. Sam and I laugh and play in what is beginning to feel like an effortless dance. We collect donations and another sponsorship for a World Vision child—Leonarda now has a sponsor and an education!! We enjoy some philosophy and wine in the kitchen after the show, and have much to be grateful for by the time we hit those enormous thick beds, layered with quilts and pillows to protect against the chilly air as the house cools in the night.

The concert series has become so popular that Shannon and Don have begun the Forget Summer Arts Festival which I would highly recommend!
Sam pontificates, Don investigates in the book-filled kitchen after the show.

Heidi poses beside the World Vision display. That night at the concert, another child gets a sponsor and we collect some very generous donations!

05 Mar - dace and Don

Back in Vancouver with only one day to see people, scour the city, and play a show! We get back into town in time for me to visit dace and Adele at their design studio. dace is the fantastic Vancouver fashion designer, now garnering international acclaim, whose clothes I’ve been wearing exclusively on this tour. Beautiful work.

So I am introduced to the ordered chaos of sewing tables and fabrics and measuring tape and bolts and racks of clothes that comprise their studio. Located in a funky old warehouse building, the solid wood beams, steel, and concrete floors contrast the delicate fabrics and summer dresses flowing from their hangers. I love it! We have a great meeting—no doubt that these funky, inspired women create such beautiful designs. Definitely check out her work here!

That night, I perform with Sam at the Rowing Club. There are seven performers doing a few songs each, songwriter in the round sort of thing, raising money for Starlight, Starbright. Each month hundreds of people fill the audience for a worthy charity and enjoy music and dinner.


Don and Masa snapping pictures before the show!

Sam and I are in the first line up with 2007 International Fingerstyle Champion Don Alder. Another phenomenal instrumental guitarist from Japan is on the lineup, as well as Bertram Scott and his hypnotizing songs. Don performs on a harp guitar, an amazing instrument with two necks arching out from the body of the guitar. It’s an instrument unlike any I’ve ever seen. Resting on a guitar stand on the elevated stage where we’ll be playing, it draws a curious, reverent gaze from people as they enter the hall. The guitar is indeed stunning, and I can’t wait to hear Don’s expert fingers bring it to life.

During the first set, we all play one song and the audience absorbs the music with awe and attention. Watching Don and Masa perform is awesome, as their fingerstylings and percussive hammering on the guitar yields the most inventive, inspiring music. But when it comes time for Don to perform another song, a bizarre accident awakens all of us.

As Don chooses a guitar from his stand, he somehow edges the stand off the stage. It and the harp guitar fall at least three feet to the ground, and the audience lets out an audible gasp. The next few moments are frozen in time as we all stare at the guitar, unable to assess the damage to the instrument. Finally, one of the organizers goes to gently recover the guitar, only to find one of the necks cracked clean off.

A true performer, Don begins his next song and the accident doesn’t even seem to phase him—allow Sam insists that the performance was slightly more. . .passionate. Of course, from my own unpleasant accident, I happen to know of an expert luthier in Vancouver, and Don and I connect after the show. The next night Sam and I are playing at Fibonacci’s in Penticton, where Don and Masa are scheduled to perform two nights later (beginning their two week tour through BC). I offer Don what consolation I can!

Sam limbering up at Fibonacci's

Enjoying a delicious dinner at Truffle Pigs Cafe--the gem of Field BC. In a tiny cafe, we play to a truly international audience hailing from Japan, New Zealand, Spain...and the wine is pretty good too! I get to hang out with Andrew, who I met on my first tour and is still the inspiration behind the worst hangover I've ever suffered while on tour...

03 March - Victoria morning

These clean, pressed, white sheets are delicious, luxurious even as I sprawl out on the queen sized bed, surrounded by pillows. It’s too early: 6:30 am and I only went to bed at 2am. But the sun is rising over the ocean harbor and the view from our hotel room is so stunning, that despite the heavy fatigue pulling on my body, I don’t want to close my eyes. Victoria.

By 7:30am, I yield and get out of bed, sneaking out of the room without waking Sam, so I can spend a few minutes on the harbor, absorbing the beauty of the morning before we have to get up and depart for the ferry. I go down to the water—it’s calling me. It wasn’t so long ago that this was on the route of a daily morning jog when I lived out in Victoria, and it’s with a deep nostalgia that I return.

Okay, I know, I know. You’re sick of hearing about the hotels, but I’m very grateful to Great Canadian Hotels. From coach surfing to truffles on the pillow!



The shows in Vancouver and Victoria were so fun! We had great audiences at the Railway Club, and it’s always a pleasure to play a venue with such a history—hard not to feel a bit reverent considering the great acts that have traveled through.


Sam at Cafe Deux Soleils, Vancouver


When we arrived in Victoria, the schedule was feverish. Had to explore my favorite parts of the city for a couple hours and hang out with Allen Dobb, a fabulous artist living on the island. Our conversation is beautiful, and it feels great to connect with some friends from the coast. So many parallels in our journey, our reading, our experiences that it’s not difficult at all to reconnect and feel as though it was only yesterday when we last saw each other.

Sam and I head to Village 900 for a radio interview and meet Taylor and Doug, the music director. I’m starting to realize a pattern: within only a few minutes of meeting, Doug and I are neck deep in a stirring conversation about avoiding the “shoulds” and “have tos” of life. Just a little philosophy before the show. As we warm up, I ask Sam what he learned today, and am given an enlightened response: Some things quiet the mind, but awaken the heart. Seems the ferry ride had a profound effect on my sideman.

On this adventure, I’m paying close attention to conversations and words and faces. Each person, each brief chat, each encounter is a clue, a puzzle, an opening to the next grand escapade.

At Hermann’s Jazz Club that night, we had a great turnout, especially for a Monday. Sam is surprised with a whole crew of friends, Miss Emily Brown opens the night with a fantastic set, and a few other friends, fans and wanderers make the night magical. The night rolls us on over to the mint for a glass of wine before Sam and I check in, which brings us back to this luxurious bed and clean white sheets, that I leave behind for more adventure in Vancouver.

01 March - broken guitar in Penticton

Beauty is a burden. When I experience the beauty like that I’ve been blessed with this clear Vancouver morning, I hardly feel deserving. I’ll accept the blessings with a promise to return each favor, each vision, each serendipitous meeting with a song. Such goes the tour.

The show at the Penticton Art Gallery was totally fun—reconnecting with the vibrant and creative curator Paul Crawford and playing before an appreciative crowd was the perfect way to begin the tour.

Sam and I arrive in Penticton and set up for the show, looking out the windows of the gallery at the scenic lake, gardens and fountain. It’s the picture of serenity. Totally fun to reconnect with Paul Crawford, the curator of the art gallery!

Just before the show, I encounter an unsettling crack in the back of my guitar. Heartbreak!! I just stared at it in disbelief, tracing back all the hammering our gear took in several loadings and unloadings. Sam is silent. We are both remembering when he let my guitar slide from the luggage cart in Calgary. I imagine I’m overcome with the guilt a mother feels when her child falls and breaks a leg.

I can play the guitar through the show, but it will require some immediate TLC. So I call Coco Love Alcorn, who recommends a master craftsman in Vancouver who can fix it. We’ll leave early the next day to get to Vancouver and try to repair my baby before the next show.

Not much point in brooding over this catastrophe, and I’m strangely detached from the whole event, more focused on the upcoming show and having a good stay in Penticton. Sam and I head out for a bite to eat before the show and encounter some enthusiastic fans at Fibonacci’s. By the time we’ve finished dinner, we’ve arranged to stop in Penticton on our one free night when we’re traveling back east. We’ll play a show at Fibonacci’s and revisit our dear friends here! So despite the broken guitar, it feels like Sam and I are in the flow of things and experiencing some good luck to ease my heartbreak.

My guitar did not spontaneously implode during the show, as I warned the audience it might, and in fact, we had a grand time on stage. After the show, Paul takes us to the legendary Dream Café to catch the last set of David Francey.

We drive like mad to get to Vancouver—though taking in the stunning beauty of the mountains. From a gas station in Bridal Falls, I talk to a VERY accommodating woman at Rufus guitars in Vancouver, who assures me that they’ll sneak me up the priority list with Misha, an expert Ukrainian luthier.

We arrive at Rufus in good time and rush in. Sam is struck instantly with the vision of mandolins lining the walls. His eyes get glassy and he wanders dreamily towards the instruments as I rush to the service section. Misha has a thick accent and large hands, and handles my guitar with care and intent, eyeing the crack, feeling the body, turning the guitar over in his hands. He seems to sense my panic, but his deep voice and reassuring tone are quite calming. There is no quick fix, but he can do the repair by the time we leave the west coast and lend me a guitar for my shows. Thankfully, they have a guitar that is almost exactly like mine and the “boss” agrees to rent it to me for a few days.

In the meantime, I’ve lost Sam. I find him in a corner, cradling a beautiful mandolin, and his eyes possess such a look of longing that I know we must vacate quickly or lose him in this dream for hours. We decide to make some time to linger in Rufus when we pick up my guitar next week.

We arrive at our hotel in downtown Vancouver and are so thankful for a sponsorship from Great Canadian Hotels. We’re staying in their hotels throughout the entire tour, and have been treated like gold. The Residence Inn is a dream—Sam and I are so grateful to be treated to such luxury! We’re giddy about exploring the city and being in such comfort in the heart of downtown. Thanks so much to Great Canadian Hotels!

28 Feb - Caribbean cafe in Salmon Arm

Sam and I leave Calgary by late afternoon, after I’ve done some running around. Into the mountains. Sam confesses his affinity for this majestic geography—it’s the landscape that resonates with him. Mine, not surprisingly, is the prairie. We swing into the mountain highways, pontificating on wild, random, unfounded theories about how the body connects to the land and elements, and we end with a million promises to “look that up”…

A sweet surprise comes in Field. We stop at Truffle Pigs, a quaint organic café, restaurant, wine store, general store, and bakery in the small town of Field, where I played about a million years ago. It was one of the most memorable gigs of that tour, certainly producing the most stinging hangover. I made some great friends, played to an appreciative crowd of ice climbers from around the world, jammed all night with the locals, and learned fine wine from “Strawberry.”

I was ecstatic to introduce Sam to this little gem of a place, but shocked as hell to enter the café and see Andrew (aka “Strawberry” who was supposed to have escaped to Ontario) and Jen and beautiful familiar faces still lingering about. With a few days off on our way back west, Sam and I agreed to come back next week for a show at the café. Can’t wait to be reacquainted with the fine food and folks.

We make it to Salmon Arm and crash for the night. Tonight we play in Penticton, and we didn’t realize how close we actually were. So this morning, there is time to hunker down in a Caribbean themed café (parrots and palm trees abound), soak up some local culture, and get back on the road.



I'm totally taken with my horoscope, so very appropriate for launching into a tour and all those promises to myself to be more relentless in my explorations of the country:

Cancer Horoscope for week of February 28, 2008

"Never play cards with a man called Doc," said Nelson Algren in his book A Walk on the Wild Side. "Never eat at a place called Mom's. Never sleep with a woman whose troubles are worse than your own." Whether or not you generally heed cautionary advice like that, I suggest that you adopt a more freewheeling approach in the coming weeks. In fact, given the frontier-prowling, rules-breaking, fun-erupting nature of your current astrological indicators, you may benefit from experimenting with a host of exploits that at any other time might seem iffy or dicey or itchy.

If you're a fan of prophesy, check out the wildly adventurous horoscopes of Rob Brezny at http://www.freewillastrology.com. I'll let you know how this one pans out...

26 Feb - And so begins the tour

The tour starts with an overnight in Calgary as Sam and I make our way to the coast. It’s comforting to share this adventure with another musician, and I’m excited to perform the shows as a duo with Sam. There’s a bit of business here to take care of here, preparing for the show in Calgary in ten days. So the layover is busy, but without a show to focus all this energy. So at night, I toss and turn, with an alert edginess that hasn’t been worn down yet. Our clothes are still fresh. Our instruments tuned. Get me to a stage before I bust.

It’s like getting my sea legs back again, being on the road. There is turbulence and a beautiful queasiness in my stomach, as we launch ourselves onto the prairie, with a car strategically stuffed full of gear. It’s been awhile since I experienced this aching sadness in my heart. I don’t bother reminding myself that I’ll see you (for a couple days at least) in less than two weeks. I simply indulge the longing, let it wash over me, and feed it equal parts of long prairie vistas, Mavis Staples, and conversation strategically directed at picking apart Sam’s life.