Another Monday night.

January 28, 2014

“Tonight was perfect.” Eren declared. Yes indeed. It was our last official show with Joris, he is going back to Holland. He was the perfect element with Eren and I. Every show was getting better and better as he got to know the songs and feel them more and more. So it is in Istanbul. Many come. Many go. I am starting to be more Zen thing about it. We have to be thankful for the gift of meeting such people.



Yula left on Sunday, Willy is leaving today, Joris leaves tomorrow. And many more ebb and flow, a human tide.

I practiced the baglama before leaving Chillout out for the gig. I was downstairs in the kitchen. I heard steps coming down, didn’t pay much attention, probably Mehmet Can… I look up… Rebecca. She landed that afternoon, she’s back. Oh my! Tears rise. I am half believing my eyes. I knew she was back, it just had not registered on a real level.

Joris, Christina, Rebecca

Joris, Christina, Rebecca

I was going to go to the gig with Rebecca and Kimberly but I decided to take a few minutes alone by myself. First I needed a battery for my guitar, then I stopped for espresso and took 15 selfish minutes. Center, regroup. That done, I headed to Karakedi. I walk in it is very quiet, just about no one here except for the staff. Hmm… I had worried that if we stopped playing regular Mondays, the crowds that we had started to build would evaporate, it looked that way. Oh well. It’s fine. What I really want is to play with Joris and give everything I have the rest, it doesn’t matter.


We do soundcheck. Eren is now “sound manager” at Karakedi. He’s good at sound. I had noticed that when we used to play Leyla Teras. He would dial things in very quickly. We wait a little bit. I go sit by myself and close my eyes. Breathe. I want tonight to be special. I want to be centered, fully aware, fully ready.

“Are you OK?” Eren asked after I had re-opened my eyes.

“Oh yeah.”

Soon after we went to the stage. Sometimes, I feel that I approach a kind of mastery. Sometimes, there is such calm and confidence. A grown-up feeling. An owning of it all; the guitar, the voice, the band, the lights, the people. A “be ready for take-off” captain of the ship certainty. I will bring this vessel to port, cargo and all.

Magic drummer

Magic drummer

There are a few bodies in the room now. Some of the regulars appeared. Nice. We start to play. A group of people sit in the side room, which does not allow to see the stage and as we get into the music deeper, they started to file into the room to watch. Karakedi is usually a noisy place. Constant talk and conversation in the background so when you stop between songs you hear the rumble of voices. But tonight, everyone was staying right where they were. Riveted. I finish the song. Total silence. “Whoa!” I said. looks like we’re doing something right, lets continue on I think and we did.

the three of us

the three of us

“Tonight was so perfect… and we have video.” Eren said again. We give each other our “X” greeting. So yes, there will be video.

After, I chatted with friends and people. I decided to get a drink, raki, to be able to clink my glass with Joris’ I will miss him. Many good musicians there are, but, there is a thing that is somewhat ethereal and that has nothing to do with notes. When that is there, the communication can take off and go outside the boundaries of the maps. It’s interstellar. It’s magical.

new painting at Karakedi

new painting at Karakedi

“You bring the best out of me.” I tell Eren with much gratitude. He’s such a free spirit. A true spirit. A creative free agent, no boundaries, just existing in the moment.

We go sit down in a corner, there a few musicians sit. One of them pulls out a duduk. He starts to play it. The canned music is stopped. Someone starts to sing. Someone starts to clap a rhythm quietly. Voices join in, drop out. It’s so incredibly beautiful in simplicity. Melodies from what seems to me the dawn of time. I observe faces, feet, colors, the cigarette smoke rising in the rare rays of light. The glint in a eye. The ancient warrior like face of the singer.

It’s Monday night, the street is dead quiet. It’s about 2 in the morning. It’s perfect.


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