“coucou les amis,
comme je l’ai déjà signalé, nous organisons donc un petit apéro (et il y aura des trucs à grignoter par la suite) vendredi prochain à partir de 19h et ça sera avec grand plaisir de vous accueillir tous.
les enfants sont les bienvenus bien sûr.
ça sera non seulement l’occasion de vous présenter Jeff, le vidéaste canadien avec lequel je travaille et de lui dire au revoir car il partira samedi pour l’écosse mais également un bon prétexte pour se retrouver entre amis afin de clôturer la semaine comme il le faut! ;-)
alors au plaisir de vous voir tous vendredi prochain,
karin et olivier”
This shop had some of the most unique macaroon flavours I’ve ever tasted, Earl Grey and bubble gum being two of my favourites. Very fresh and rich and mouth-wateringly good.
Continue reading “France, Day 10: Paris”…
It was this succinct wit. She could say so much in a line or two, and anything left unsaid would only serve to feed your curiosity. You’d be given the punchline, this blow that would knock the wind out of you, then wonder what circumstances could have led up to that. I’ve always been after that style, that ability to move people with words the way hers used to move me.
Of course Dolly has to sleep on anything new in the house, regardless of whether it’s your sweater or not. It’s part of the sass, and yet one can’t help but reward her with cuddles and love.
For a few years, I lost her to the happiness (where I hope to lose myself one day) until we spent a rainy day together, blissed out and hopefully obvious only to the check-out lady who scanned all our varieties of chocolate.
Dear Lisa believes in me, and that’s the only reason I believe in myself too.
It was totally unfair that Shane was only in town for a single night, and then off to the next show in Kingston with Krista and Jesse and Audra the next morning. I was looking forward to a weekend with him at least, but his tour commitments as bassist, backup vocals, sound technician, and driver kept us apart.
This was the first time I’ve seen Krista perform as Lederhosen Lucil (and the fifth time I’ve been to her shows). It was an LL album that I first fell in love with, so this meant a lot. I totally had this awkward kiss? hug? kiss? moment with her when she got up to greet me while manning the cover box; I’ve never been very good at that. In the Fall she asked if she could have the Ottawa stop of her tour in my living room for an intimate House Show the Third, but that plan got derailed when I adopted Leonard, as two cats was too much for her allergies. Things worked out for the best. The Raw Sugar Cafe is such a great venue, with dry cider and multiple escape routes.
These are the only people who could convince me to have breakfast with them at a diner on the other side of the city on three hours of sleep. At a table full of musicians it’s impossible not to abuse the theremin setting on the Bebot app, Mentok the Mind-Taker style. I was going to tell Shane to save me a seat next to him, but then realized I’m not in grade 2 anymore.
I’ve always been after a more mellow sound than what I can currently get out my guitar. Madeleine suggested I try D’Addario Silk and Steel strings, so I bought a pack a few days ago and have been playing them since. I asked Steve to demo the strings, as well as my lovely guitar Larissa, cause my abilities aren’t good enough to really show her off.
Sometimes I love them cause they’re so bright and clear, other times I hate them cause the tone comes off as thin and frail; it really depends on what kind of music I’m playing. When Steve plays them they’re shockingly bright and piercing compared to the sound I get; I’m not sure if it’s the difference in our nails or technique (or both).
They’re definitely meant for fingerpicking cause they’re so light that even moderate strumming will make them buzz, which severely limits my possible repertoire. On the bright side, it’s much easier to fret barre chords, and certain passages that were a struggle to play cleanly only require a light touch now.
Another advantage is that the tone makes me feel like I’m playing a different guitar. Even though it’s not quite the dry and mellow sound of a classical nylon, it’s somewhat staving off my desire to buy the Taylor I’ve been eying, but who knows how long that’ll last.
Steve’s the only person I know who lives by the guitar, both literally and figuratively. I’ve seen such brilliant things come out of his fingers. Sometimes in the middle of a song I’m showing him, he’ll pick up the melody and go somewhere completely different with it that’s more beautiful than the original. And even though he’s mainly a jazz guy (after Wes Montgomery), he can play any style from classical to flamenco.
I’ve taken up his belief in not using a pick and sticking with my fingernails. “Just another thing between you and the guitar”, he said to me once. And when I explain how I’m stuck on something he’ll say, “Have you done it three-and-a-half million times?” to remind me that anything’s possible with enough practice. He’s filled with all these tiny yet crucial bits of information that have influenced how I approach the instrument.