Portraits of People

This last month has been a bit of a blur. It started in Berlin, walked through Paris and ended in Montreal. I met new people every day and slept in shared accommodation with my fellow man. I was a part of the trend, you know… the one where you backpack through Europe and find yourself in a moment of intense and absolute self-realization.

I’ve had none of these moments. Mine is a story of isolation and bitterness with subtle fragrances of fleeting ambition. Meeting new people can be so draining, I exchanged stories with so many people, leaving a little piece of myself with each person I met. Now I am back in Montreal and enjoying the idea of permanence. It’s nice to have friends that you can keep.

I’ve started working with zest to create an album. It’s so much harder than it should be. Sometimes I have bouts of confidence, but in general, I find it hard to take myself serious. I often ask myself, ‘why do you feel important enough to presume that others would enjoy listening to the sounds you make.’ It’s a good question, but an attitude that successful musicians can’t take. The new Radiohead album is very nice, and it felt really good to buy it knowing that all the money would go directly to the artist.

Anyways, time for my morning routine, it’s almost 1pm. Time for sickening amounts of coffee, a glance at world news, and a bagel with cream cheese.

[Found the image below in a museum in Paris. I think it s especially creepy, and I am glad I come from a time where this sort of stuff does not make sense]