dark iron hollow of the dawn (2007-02-01 - 10:40 p.m.)
"Sunlight splintered off the cars and cut the threads of winter from the ground."
That's right, Stephen Fearing was in town! Everyone ditched me last night, so once again I found myself at a gig alone. (Song-Yi, my Korean student, was going to come along but fell prey to homework at the last minute). Since I didn't find out she couldn't come until I was almost there, I ended up being way early for the show. However, I had my hat from under which to stare at people, so it was all good.
Opening band was one Ben Spencer, who quite impressed me. Funny (and oh yes, cute), with above-average singer-songwritery stuff. Therefore, I was glad I had arrived in time to see the opener (even if it did mean sitting alone by myself in a bar for hours).
Speaking of the Sidetrack, Stephen commented on how... nice... the new location was. "At the old Sidetrack you never knew what was going to happen. You were usually guaranteed at least one fight per show." He phrased it as a compliment, but I have to say it sounded more like a lament. The audience last night was certainly sedate enough. It was kind of depressing, actually.
So yeah. Good show, fading voice, lots of stories and worth my while to stay up all night to see it. Afterwards I steeled myself to brave the weather (snowy and horrible) on the way home, and barreled out the door straight into Mr. Fearing himself. He complimented my hat, correctly classified it as a cloche, and had a long conversation with me about Edmonton hat shops of the past and present. (RIP, Mr. John's.) I am always tickled by encounters like that, because seeing someone on stage always gives them a sort of sheen of unreality, so running into them (on a sidewalk smoking, say) makes you feel as if you've broken through that barrier.
Sophie and I went to yoga tonight. There were a million people there, unusually. Afterwards we found a 60-year-old fading Southern belle in her VERY skimpy underwear blocking our lockers. (There was not much left to the imagination, shall we say.) She started a conversation about nothing at all, which is not unusual at the Kinsmen centre. It is not what you'd call the classiest of gyms, and it attracts all types.
Sophie gave me a cupcake she baked (awwwwww!) and so we started an un-crazy-lady-related conversation, which Miss Belle nevertheless attempted to butt into. "Ah have lived in EDMONTON, ALBERTA, Cahnadah, for fifteen years now..." Then, having finally succeeded in breaking in, she quickly took the opportunity to mention that she was starting a massage clinic. She handed us her business card, following this up with a hearty, "Ah hope ah have the opportunity to work on yah bodies very soon!"
In other news this week, Steph was on TV (and although I am jealous of her job title, I am happy that my job never involves TV appearances). Also, we went to pottery and I made something that was charitably described as "very organic-looking" by a lady from the other class. And a fish-hiding log for my father.
And the rest of the week has been devoted to contemplation of this quote from the immortal Stephen Fearing:
"Introspection can be a crutch. Sometimes I think too much... cerebral isolation."
yup, about sums it up.
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