CMW, Henry Moore, New born leaves.

March 28, 2012

I was walking down Toronto’s downtown streets. It was around 1 AM. I had been to the El Mocambo to catch the band MAK from Montreal, I assumed they would come on late, so I had not hurried to get there, I got off at the wrong bus station, had to walk quite a bit, got there at midnight and they had just finished.


After staying to watch the undescribable Mister Valaire’s set,I decided to walk back to my friend’s apartment where I was staying, instead of taking transit, I needed the fresh air, to move my body and to experience the night.  The day had been so intense and full, this was what I needed.
I had spent all day at one of the fanciest hotels I had ever been in, the Fairmont Royal York in downtown Toronto to catch the songwriter’s summit’s workshops and conferences that was part of the Canadian Music Week from 9 AM to 7PM sitting in slightly too warm rooms, wading through thousands of people and filling my head with more information than I had in a long time.

 

I got to see the guy who wrote the Gambler (Kenny Rogers) sing the song himself, the guy who wrote “How Will I Know?” (Whitney Houston) play and explain how the song came to be.  And the song “Closing Time” A song I had played over and over when I did cover gigs by myself… that was really cool.

 

the kings of songwriting in action

 

Back to my night stroll, as I walked I found myself in the area where the Toronto Art Gallery is located. There was also a school of art and everything was huge and artful. Then to my right… a huge sculpture, rounded shapes, monumental size, I thought of Alberto (my sculpture master) and I thought : “ could it be?”

 

And it was.

It was a Henry Moore sculpture. There was a bronze plaque on the ground to prove it.

I had only seen them in books, but the forms, the lines, the essence were unmistakable. I walked around and inside it. Wow. What a gift. I felt embraced by it.

I reluctantly left,

 

I kept walking in this new unknown city. I turned right, down University Street. Toronto is big. It’s the biggest city in Canada. It has history, wealth, stature.   You feel that bigness staring down on you.  A mix of old school and corporate shine.

 

Suddenly I felt a presence.

 

I stopped.

 

It was dark, I had just passed another interesting sculpture that looked like a roman roof supported by human shapes instead of columns. I smelled. Looked around, there was an iron gate, no one around. I looked up and saw them.


They were barely visible against the dark of night but they were so there. Tiny leaves… Spring. Life. There was an essence of vitality so strong that was what stopped me. Very likely they had just come to the world within the last few hours. It felt like an enchantment, right here in the middle of this urban mecca. Fragile, tiny, leaves.

 

I was so taken. I cannot explain. I live for those moments and there hasn’t been enough of them lately. The magic, the mysterious ways of this earth and the life on it.  Yes I know the photos are too dark but that is how it was.

 

I was thinking : I can’t forget this moment… I have to write… lets take a photo… I probably won’t see a thing but at least it will remind me of this magical instant where my soul osmosed into nature for a moment. I took photos, could not stop!

reflexions

 

I took my first trolley bus ride on the way up

 

Oh city, big city, you hold the dreams and the defeats in the palm of your cement and glass hands

 

Reluctantly, again, I left the scene. I walked for another 40 minutes or so and got to my friend’s apartment on the 19th floor of a 35 storey building right by the harbour. Thankful to have been magicked.

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