Saturday, March 31, 2012

En rout to Ireland

Hello Hello Hello.

I'm writing this note from the Amsterdam airport, en route to Cork, Ireland to play a three week tour performing with Morgan Friend. When I get back to Ottawa, I'll be heading out west to play an Organic Farmhouse Concert Tour. That's right. It will be booked under the more recent of my names, Salvador Dali Lama. My friend of 22 years, fellow Aquarian, Clyde will come along. The initial plan was to play house concerts in order to perform for appreciative audiences, with minimal overhead while creating networks. Asking my friend Oliver how he thought I could make the tour cooler, he told me about a long standing dream of his that coincided with an old dream of mine. We think in similar ways, so it's difficult to say who said what exactly, but the basic idea is to create a network of like minded, self sustaining enclaves with willing workers, artists and musicians constantly flowing between them all.

The online network for organic farm volunteers is already there, it's called Willing Workers On Organic Farms. Or I've signed up, and in exchange for my and Clyde's work on the farm, hosts across the country will invite their friends, family, community to check out the organic farming lifestyle, and be treated to a banjo concert. So far it's coming together like a perfect storm, there's been a wonderful response so far and the idea seems to be catching on.

In other news, being in this massive European airport is very much like being in a dream state. Partly because I didn't sleep very well on my flight from Toronto last night but more because of the subtle differences. It's a gentle culture submersion rather then shock. Most of the signs are in English first, then smaller dutch. Being full of internationals the style isn't really discernible from North America, but then once in a while there's an African man in a flowing robe and round hat. An Asian woman in a grey sweater, pock-a-dotted skirt, paisley tights and blue shoes just walked into the INDOOR smoking sections. It's the little things.

When you read this, I'll be in Ireland. Love you.


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