Folk Folk

A quick huzzah, in the midst of packing for a trip far from the BQE (and one that undermines all efforts to limit my carbon footprint, read: to INDIA), to the singer-songwriters of the 8/6 Jezebel evening at Pianos.

Jo Williamson's voice did amazing things, like pulling itself hand-over-hand skyward, then melting low before turning into a whistle.

Flanagan Smith was playful and poignant and utterly himself.

And Lionel Neykov, more pop crooner than folk musician (in my opinion), performed heartfelt and lovely songs nonetheless, to especially good effect when the piano was woven in.

A couple of serendipitous things happened while, first with Arina then just with myself, I took in the room. It's exciting to have stumbled upon the kind of community I've been seeking for just about ever. Later, I was chatting with my old friend Noah about how things really do happen when you quit trying so hard and just let go.

Letting go makes me think of the peace I felt on a different trip, a year ago, back to Dublin. I went running past this Rathmines tree almost every day, part of a different community. (And I suppose there was also a different kind of stumbling there, later in the days, brought on by poetry and the cursed stout!).



Finally, last night, Jo Williamson sang The Parting Glass, which ties up this post and takes us back to the beginning. Huzzah.