Awkward Pose

Ok,

This is years in the procrastinating. I’ve been a touring musician for some 8 years and have often felt like sharing, or at least commenting on the experience. I used to think I’d write about food on the road- foraging in cities and towns for healthy and delicious sustenance. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The more I toured, the less inspiring I found restaurants- a forced habit. I began to focus on another sustaining force: yoga. I had gotten more into yoga at home in Montreal, had even started teaching. A couple of years ago on a Bell Orchestre tour in Europe, I challenged myself to practice yoga every day on tour. This found me in some bizarre surroundings, and in some literally awkward poses.  Downward dog in a hotel hallway lousy with Germans. The loading dock of a venue in Vienna hovering over beer soaked pavement. Vinyasa flow to the pounding of the kick drum in sound check.

I had more fun on that tour. The constance of daily practice on tour gave me something to stabilize around while everything else was a chaos ball in motion.

Since that ruckus fall there have been many tours- Bell Orchestre, Arcade Fire, The Luyas. And there’s always this constant thing, like find the yoga mat where’s waldo in a sea of theatres, arenas, fields, hotels.

So this is a tour diary about music, yoga, repetition and surprise. And other things probably too, like coffee.

Today for instance, was a classic bus tour arena day. Wake up in the humming darkness of the bus, earplugs blocking out the fact that it’s noon. Make coffee in the darkness, wonder where the others are, feeling lazy and unwashed. Stumble into the maze of union workers in cement hallways, florescent lighting, follow the signs for dressing rooms, bathrooms, foodrooms.

Today my mat fits nicely between a fake plant, a pinball machine, and the large beige furniture crowding the dressing room. I make an island of breathing and moving, while around me worker radios go off like bird sounds- production information crackling between the big rooms. By this point, it’s a homey sound. Today my breath is slow and steady, which makes a good counterpart for my tweaky violinist arms, my complaining runner’s knees. I feel lucky and sweaty.

An hour and a half comes and goes and it’s time for soundcheck, food and the treasure of getting to watch The National play before us. I sit in the dark seats behind the stage and my heart wells up to their music. 

And then, as the old saying goes, it’s off with the yoga pants and on with the sparkle costume! 

And that, is the end of my first official blog post. 

XO Sarah.