Had the pleasure of joining my cagetheelephantofficial buds on the road again this month in the midst of their December tour. I hopped on in San Diego, and continued on to Oakland, Mesa, El Paso, Albuquerque, Kansas City MO, and their last show of the year in Sauget, IL. It was of course a fantastic time around fantastic people. Check out what went down over here in my tour diary.

© Pooneh Ghana

Sokszor azon gondolkodom, hogy mennyivel jobb volna adni egy restartot az egész életnek, mindent elölről kezdeni, újra megélni az elsőket : az első orraesést, az első szerelmet, az első cifrafosást, az első leírt szót, az első cigit, piát, dekket, pinát. Például születhetnék rőtszakállú, keménykötésű, szúrós skótnak Falkirk városában. Aztán állnék ott a bazinagy sziklákon a skót semmi közepén és nézném ahogy az összes skót nőn rőt bajusz lenne. Elkáromkodnám magam, hangom messze vinné a tenger felől érkező szél :

- A faszomba, az összes nő bajszos!

Majd odaszólna a veres skót némber :

- E`wan, McGregor!

THE PEOPLE CALLED THEM THE CITIES  ➝ Strasbourg (Mélanie Laurent) & Bochum (Sibel Kekilli).

« La lune, cette nuit, a veillé mon amie. Moi, en rêve, j’ai vu, éblouissante et nue, son âme qui dansait bien au delà des nues et qui me souriait.  »

She was falling again. She could feel it in her bones, in her skin, in each of her breathe. There was not a feeling she knew better than this one in the entire world. She wanted to cry but she was a dry river for decades now. She wanted to speak and be strong again but she really just turned insane 60 years ago. They had ripped her out of her soul. Not only Berlin or Paris, this time. All Europe settled inside her, without asking, without warning. And she had left them erase her. Why fight when it was already over ? 

She was in the Parliament and watching, without any interest, europeans talking about their futur. What futur ? There was no futur for any of them. Soon, their voices melt into each other and as often, Strasbourg cut herself from the world, entering her own bubble. Her delicate fingers were stroking the wood in a complex and tiny dance while her sweet voice was murmuring some old song, deeply buried in her soul. White umbrellas and pink. Her eyes focused on a moving shadow. Her heart stopped as sun erased the dust from all this time. Just in front of her, a curious City, no shoes, light colors, dark hair and a sadness as strong as her in the eyes. “Just one dance. Just one.” Just one then. And soon, she will be gone. The last brightness before the darkness. [x]