Journal

Heading out on the road again, this time I’m prepping for a massive continental road trip which will include a bit of a holiday in the South Western U.S., a territory I’ve been waiting to feel under my feet for a very long time.

photo by Ximena GrisctiBefore I leave I’m cramming to finish segment #1 of a soundtrack for a feature length experimental documentary by Tamara Vukov. It requires me to tap into the Slavic paternal roots and the groovy beats as well as a bit of punk rock outrage. I’ve been practicing accordion like crazy and playing with many wires, pedals, nobs and plug-ins.

It’s been a good winter, full of love and delicious food. I’m excited to hit the road again though. It’s going to be a massive trek this time…. Usually I fly the long distance and rent a vehicle for a specific geographical area, but this time my companion and I will traverse the entire continent coast to coast, up and down and around, in a mini-van. The shows are still emerging daily so the listings will continually be updated. I’ll be blogging and twittering my way through so do stay in touch.

So, I got to go to the south of France to play a showcase for a bunch of industry types as they Bloody Cannessloshed back the guinness at an Irish Pub. Such a strange world it is, hey? Obama was getting inaugerated. Radical. The last of my 2 showcases I tried playing Devil's Paintbrush Road on the Mandolin without a pick, and by the end of the set my guitar was a veritable Jackson Pollock of blood splatterings. I felt very rock and roll.

A bit of self expression, Cannes styleI decided, since the Ontario Media Development Corporation had spotted the cash for my ticket over (thanks to my record label being in Ontario) I might as well splurge on a lot of really great southern french cuisine. One thing that really stood out was the delightful use of pears in deserts. MMMmmm. Good with chocolate. Friends I ate well. And wow, are the old hilly streets of Cannes ever beautiful. So is the ocean, and the island a short ferry ride away where the monks hang out making chocolate and wine and spirits... not a bad life I think. I went over with Peter Katz, fellow Canadian songster, and we marvelled at the ocean and the bright windy day and a ruined castle of which we explored every inch.

California CoastNovember was an amazing tour of the west coast of the USA, complete with jaw-dropping coastal roads and breath-taking mountain ranges, as well as some incredibly sweet solo shows, just me up there and the gentle and groovy audiences who showed up, from Seattle to Portland to L.A. to Berkeley, and so many lovely stops along the way. All in all it's been a wonderful fall, from the U.K./Europe trek with the band to the solo tour through gorgeous California, accompanied by Jess the spiritually aligned road manager and agent.B.A., photo: Ximena Griscti

I just got back from a trip to Argentina and Uruguay. Wow. My perception of the word "resilience"
has exploded.

As tour plans slowly map themselves out for the coming year I invite you to stay in touch and
hope to see you around!

UK Europe ‘08

We covered lots of ground my friends, the three of us, Tony and Jérémie and I.Ilfracomb

Highlights? Arriving in Ilfracomb after driving hours through traffic and floods, to witness the rocking world beat of Trasglobal Underground vibrating through the ancient seaside town. Funny to see the real people up there after owning a record for a good 15 years. Walking down the steep steps on the rocky cliff to the ocean late at night, staring, listening, smelling the sea beneath the haunted night sky, feeling the cool rocks and touching the water.

The rowdy gaggle of Manchesterians hooting in the corner at the Selby gig.

The familiar faces, the return to places. Carlisle.
The Curving staircase and the sheep on the hill behind our B&B in Uley. The green rolling forests and fields and the setting sky, the calming beer in the parking lot with new friends as I skipped out after an ear blowing soundcheck.

All the mossy rocks and slate roofs.
All the woody pubs.
The stellar cups of tea and the delicious English breakfasts.
The flowers in the dressing room left by Rebecca in Norwich.

Eastern Europe: The taste of Halousky with Brynza. (It’s kinda like gnocchi but more randomly shaped, in a sheep cheese sauce… like a Slovak version of mac and cheese… but smoky and flavourful).

My dad, at the last minute, deciding to come and join us for the Slovakia trek.
My adorable little tiny relative Peter, tapping along to the music in Liptovsky Mikulas, displaying his new sneakers to me from the front row.

The audience in Banska Bystrica demanding another soft and sentimental song instead of an upbeat one.

Budapest, sipping fruit tea with honey out of a big red clay mug, soft antique lines cracking through the glaze in an establishment that felt like a pantry, shelves full of beautiful jars of pickled things, rustic enamel pots and ancient bottles.

The train ride from Vienna to Zurich, the alps, oh my god.

The taste of chocolate in Switzerland. My old friend Elaine and I, re-united, her taking us under her wing, showing us around, the bubble bath she drew, the first home cooked meal in a month, the Riesling Michael, her partner, opened.Nuit Blanche

Paris. In the morning, the most delicious café au lait I have ever tasted, sitting in the Étoile de Montmartre. I would return to Paris just for that.
The steaming pot of Moules Provençale. The delightful way absinthe was served up after the show at Les Taulieres, water poured from a little ceramic jug, strained through a sugar cube. The evenings, the way friends gathered to eat, drink and laugh.

You know, it’s a strange life, to go away from a sense of home, leaving things behind, human relations packed into little moments, the physicality of hauling stuff everywhere, the cramped up state of constant travel, the anxiety of finding ones way every day, of setting off to go… But you know, Elaine said it well for me when I delighted in her sharing of the good things in life – There is so much to enjoy and this life is so precious.
Budapest, photo by Milan Chvostek

Writing from Devon, England.

The summer came and we've churned right into the fall. It was a good summer, toured the east coast of Canada with the Lake of Stew touring our record "Ain't Tired Of Lovin", highlights included heading for the first time to Isles de la Madeleine, beachy strands of Quebecois paradise a five hour ferry ride from P.E.I.
It was also great to experience Cape Breton -- that massive fiddle sculpture in Sydney, Nova Scotia, and after playing a night in Cheticamp realizing that Ashley McIsaac was going to be there the next day. Owner of the club let us in amongst the packed homeland crowd, older and younger people alike, chowder on the menu, Ashley played and played. What a monster. I was instantly a better fiddler, just soaking it up. Got to chat with him the next evening when we played at The Piper in Antigonish. It was the end of the highland games, and the place was packed with pipers indeed, I had no idea there was such a scene! They were partying up a storm and passing the pipes around (bagpipes!), people jigged intensely.

After a little bit of time at home I headed out west solo style to play as part of the pride festivities in Vancouver. First time participating in that scene. Gosh the parade was moving. To think that short years ago to be out and gay meant shock treatment, solitary confinement, violence. Ilfracomb, our hotel's on the rightToday we have a true and beautiful celebration of love. Brought me to tears a couple of times. And the party was rockin'. SO MUCH FUN. While out there, there were some lovely gigs on the island with Jennifer Louise Taylor. ah B.C., I love it I love it. Looking forward to being back there in November.

And now here I am in England with the Trio (Tony Spina on drums, Jeremie Jones on the bass) and we just ate a proper Devon cream tea. Feeling a bit bloated, but happy.

The Point, Sydenham, OntarioSpent Canada Day in beautiful Sydenham, played on a flatbed truck out in the field by the Point, the purdiest little swimming spot you ever did see. Gorgeous day. Julia on Bass, Brad on slide, Tony on drums. The night sky would later explode with dazzling fireworks. Between the daytime concerts and the night-time display, our hosts Kristin and Vanessa taught us Barbershop harmony tags and fed us like royalty with saffron infused rice, grilled portabellos and hand-made tortillas.Sydenham Feast

A couple nights before I played Kinston at the Sandra Whitton Gallery, great acoustics, awesome paintings. They put me up on a haunted boat, which was fascinating. Had a lovely walk along the water in the morning.
Mullein by the Water, Kingston, Ontario

What’s the point of creative action? What am I trying to do? I ask myself often, as life tosses up its challenges. Recently this is what came as an answer: To find broad swaths of truth within a momentary space/time. I think that's kind of it, and to do so as best as I can within this crazy gift of a life. It's about love, isn't it? That's the motivation, and the answer to all the big ol' problems. But you know, it's not easy to love, so how does one do it in a world that seems so bent on cultivating more suffering and destroying itself? Where fear tells us to climb, and knock down and grasp for our lives.

We could run the cars and planes on sea water, easily. We even know how. Water to hydrogen to water. Why are we at war? We could delight in each other instead of fear each other. We could live conscious of our interdependence and enjoy it.

It seems that at the core of every religion, every gnostic practice, every magical state of union, every scientific innovation, there is this: a contemplative practice. That's how you get to the love state apparently. That's how one uncorks the massive well of compassionate action that can move things around, shake things up, dispel the fear, uncover the mystery and the delight in being, find foundation to get the work done towards a massive shift to the positive. But how to find a way to that practice... I guess that's the big challenge. Seeing it, knowing it, doing it.

In the video for resilience we’re jamming off of a grounding technique. You can try it at home! You just stand there and breathe, send your consciousness streaming down through the floor , through the infrastructure of the city if that’s where you are, down into the dirt, through the rocks and many colored stones, down to the centre of the earth to connect to the pulsing red core of this fantastic planet, to draw that deep magnetic well of pure energy right back up into you and your own core. Draw it into every part of you. You are powerful and full of light. Calm and ready to delight in life!

It might seem funny, but the song Resilience came in a moment of feeling absolutely joyfully connected to my extended neighborhood, and all the innovative, active people who make up the community I live in. I can’t always stay connected to an awareness of such grace, but it sure is good when it happens.

I love driving these roads!

Duncan Garage Showroom, The Sioux with guest Jennifer Luoise Taylor, Jérémie Jones bass, photo Alex Comtois

A hand full of pebbles

Visiting wonderful Victoria, I did a wee pilgrimage to the beach on which the song Swallow got itself going. Jennifer took this picture of the pebbles in hand, just like in the song, (I got me a handfull / a hand full of pebbles/ one ball of light/ one shining flight) though originally when I was inside that particular song obsession/creation, I picked 'em up and let the warm stones drop through my fingers.