Last Travel Chronicle

I close my eyes as I listen to your music, and instead of seeing colours and landscapes, I see your faces.

I see the veins on the top of your hands as they play their instruments, I see your feet following the tempo. I see your half closed eyes and I can hear your deep, concentrated, breathing. I see the little 8-motion your heads do when absorbed by music. I’m sure you all don’t even know you do that. I feel the sound divided between yourselves, the way each little layer is each of you.

And then I see your faces again. Your faces looking at me listening to you. And then your faces as we drink together. And then your faces as you greet me. I hear the way each of you say my name as I listen to your music.

It’s all so personal now, listening to the Sound of Munich. You gave it to me. The most precious gift in the world.

I’m back home now. Back in control. My own language and my own house and family. These two weeks were incredible and, even if my body is completely broken down, my head is buzzing with possibilities. What is gonna happen next? Who will be the first of you to visit me? Only time will tell. Just know that Montreal will always have a room for you.


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