End of the road

My lover slept beside me as the train barreled along towards Montreal, and I was full of anticipation. It was around ten years ago when I first came to Montreal for a summer to learn French, and that was only my second time living away from home. The city shocked and seduced my naïve prairie sensibilities, jolting me out of my Saskatchewan conservatism with every musician and restaurant and artist and cafe I encountered. The city spoke to my soul and became home.

Montreal seemed like a good place to return to with him—especially now, when we are in need of a little reinvention. So I finish my tour and we embark on a trip, where we can relax and reconnect after two months apart, before returning back to Saskatoon. We sat in Notre Dame, mesmerized by its grandeur, and pretended it was a place of forgiveness, perfect for lovers embarking upon a fresh start.

Through and with each other, we absorbed each new taste and sight as if we’ve been starved and blind for years. And it’s true—maybe we just haven’t been paying enough attention lately. When he introduced me to espresso at the Café Italia, the taste and environment so perfectly suit my bodily cravings that a simple coffee becomes a spiritual experience (which is certainly the approach to espresso at this distinct little café, full of old Italians clustered around the soccer game on TV). It’s hard to express the perfection of these moments. So we just lean in closer to each other. And closer still.

*******

Before Montreal, I did two final shows: a house concert in Ottawa and a show at the legendary Black Sheep Inn in the very picturesque town of Wakefield. The house concert was buzzing with my lover’s arrival, as everyone knew this was to be the site of our reunion. Moments before he arrives, I have a chance to sit down with Caz, a vibrant and spirited woman at the house who reads Tarot Cards. When I pull one card, she looks at me knowingly: it is the card of the lovers. I pull more and she speaks quickly and with purpose, giving me a very optimistic reading that even furthers my excitement. I'm a sucker for horoscopes and tarot cards and anything that invites a little reflection, imagination, interpretation, magic.

The music comes easy. It flows. I forget where I am. I forget everything but the moment of playing. Ottawa. Wakefield. The audiences are generous and attentive. And I am lost in the shear joy of finishing a fantastic tour. What catharsis.

It was sad saying good-bye to Peter. I’ve come to adore his idiosyncracies and have learned so much from traveling and performing with him along this tour. In Montreal, I am full of stories and experiences and thoughts as I relive moments from our tour and come to really appreciate Peter’s talent, sensitivity and insight. I’m sure it won’t be the last of our collaborations . . .

16 March-Toronto

Hey lover,

It’s so very appropriate to begin winding down the tour in Toronto at the home of Anastasia and Anthony and their new baby Jacob. So many of my hosts along this tour have had new babies or are getting pregnant or are planning a family. I land and leave these homes and families, feeling like the very antithesis of settled family life. But Jacob is a charmer and it’s so easy to fit into this family.


Anastasia, a gifted opera singer, fills her house with soul and music. Her husband Anthony, a brilliant chef, fills the rooms with the tastes and aromas of his food. And Jacob seems content, soaking it all up and learning what he can along the way. So I just try and sink into the routine and appreciate their willingness to adopt me while I do a few shows in Toronto.

I was really ready for the show in London at the Music Club, a groovy old house transformed into two music venues: a smaller acoustic room in front and a big band bar in the back. Peter’s various reunions in Toronto don’t have much time to completely satisfy his soul before we have to depart for London, but the hosts are warm and welcoming and get us really excited for the show. As our sets progress, the blues jam in the back room gains in volume and momentum. After the show, we sneak into the back and break up the night with a few songs. The crowd has been primed all night, digging the grooves, and makes it easy to bring it all home.


It’s always a bit bizarre playing in Toronto where audiences are full of musicians and music industry people—and I’m a little too conscious of it at my show at the NOW lounge. Nonetheless, I totally dig the room. It’s the perfect setting of warm brick and red lighting to break out the feather boa and really connect with the crowd.

Toronto is distracting me in all the best ways. This city seduces me in unpredictable ways each and every time. It offers me a little family, and some daily routines that satisfy my soul, and let me wait patiently for our reunion at my shows in Ottawa. . .less than a week away. I’m so glad we’re not going home, but traveling onto Montreal. For I’m totally digging being on the road and returning home seems . . .anticlimactic. So I’ll put it off for the moment.

See ya soon.

C

15 Mar-Snowed in, Thunder Bay

Peter suffers an undeserved amount of teasing from me for his strategy for talking on the cell and driving. . .


Hey lover,

Our mad dash to Toronto from Winnipeg, fuelled by Peter’s eagerness to get home, has been maddeningly slowed. Hit a massive snowstorm and were forced to hole up in Thunder Bay for the night. With blowing snow and icy roads, cars in the ditches, and closed highways, we didn’t have much choice. With a scene so very unlike spring, we took advantage of the “Spring Break Special” at the Travelodge, obviously a huge destination spot for vacationing students.

I felt sorry for Peter, who was a little devastated by the hindered progress to reunite with his girlfriend. After suffering the same fate when my transmission died in Calgary, I’m sympathetic. Back at the hotel, Peter called his girlfriend only to find that a speeding ticket had arrived in the mail from when we were driving through Calgary. This piece of bad news would only be slightly more tolerable if we hadn’t already received a ticket earlier that day. Time to go for supper and wash this day from our hair.

Getting there. . .

Love C

13 March-Winnipeg

Rolled into Winnipeg a little shell-shocked today. Last night, the week in Saskatoon culminated in a great show at Lydia’s with the band. The house was packed and the band was rocking—quite simply a night to really let loose and the music took over. I loved seeing you in the crowd, singing to you, losing you and getting possessed by the crowd, and then coming back to your face. I guess this is touring—losing and finding each other a million times.



It was great to hit the road again the next morning (although far too early)! I took over the driving and let the week filter away, found some lyrics along the ditches again and felt more at home than I think I did all week.

It couldn’t have been more perfect to arrive at Terry and Terry’s in Winnipeg for a house concert that night. It is rare and wonderful to encounter people so knowledgeable and passionate about music as many musicians. Within moments, we felt as if we’d known them for a lifetime, as they doted over us before the concert. Terry and Terry’s wall of autographed photos of musicians—Michelle Shocked, Lucinda Williams, Ron Sexsmith, Jason Collette, Danny Michel, Kathleen Edwards, Bob Dylan to name just a few—attests to their commitment and love of music. So we couldn’t help but give the show our all and sink into the warm atmosphere.






After the show, Peter dove into foozball and I let Terry introduce me to some of her favorite white wine. The folks at the concert affectionately call their neighborhood the Bubble, slightly withdrawn from the city and seemingly existing in a world all its own. It’s a bubble I’d gladly return to.