beyond the sea

why I love sharing my music

Herbert is run by three gentleman from the corners of their hearts. They bought peach-coloured roses for the gig and assorted them in vases around the cozy venue. A venue that is decorated mostly by their grandparents’ old furniture. All (whoppin’ 60) tickets were sold, and everyone from college dudes to the town’s sheriff was there. He later patted me on my shoulder, leaned in and said: “I grew up in Canada, just had to check you out. Great stuff, kid.”

We had beer with lemonade and talked til late. I slept at Baiba’s lovely little home. The city was so small, we sat out on the porch the next day with Nik and had breakfast for three hours. We talked about love, and falling in love, and falling out of love, and can’t we just hold onto it for once? And we all agreed that with the right one we can.

It was Baiba’s birthday so we went back to Herbert. She had gotten up at 6:30 in the morning to cross into Germany to buy specific Russian ice cream. It was worth the trek, I’d say. We made pins and ate rasberries and I did not want to leave this incredible little corner of the world that I would have otherwise never stumbled upon.

Strangers sharing with strangers. Feeling with each other. Smiling. Touching. Moving. In a moment, it’s gone. But it stays forever.