LNOYL

I tried to help you with your kitty cat, but we ended up somewhere else altogether. You walked back to the parking lot, and even though the fog and early November darkness had smudged the view through the window, I saw that you were not happy with him. Our conversation was shortened, as he walked you to your truck, and then you drove away.

There is a local market on the island highway that I pass by every day, back and forth from Duncan to Shauningan lake. It is full of fresh, locally grown produce that is actually less expensive as compared to any of the chain stores. There is a rustic, country cafe attached to the market, where they will make you something to eat using all the ingredients found within the market. Natalie and I met there for coffee. She parked her truck out back, and arrived dressed in her mountain bike gear. That’s what got us talking in the first place; I wanted someone to show me the running trails around my new neighbourhood, and she lived just a few roads down the highway…

If you didn’t know her well, Natalie would first appear to be the classic “unrequited love interest in disguise” archetype; you know, the obviously beautiful girl with who wears glasses and tomboy clothes as a veil, and then pulls the pony tail and dons the contact lenses towards the ending to reveal that she was drop dead all along. Too bad, so sad to the boys who should have known better.

It wasn’t that far from the truth. I could tell because of the way she watched the clock. I had only known her a few days now, but I could tell something was pulling this girl in two different directions. I had entered her life during tug of war. We ordered a few coffees, and took a table for two in the market. We talked about gliding along running trails, until there was no trail left and our conversation hit the underbrush. When Natalie decides to tell you something, even if its dark, she will floor you with unfiltered honesty. I guess sometimes it is easier to reveal things to a stranger than it is to people you have known your whole life. About all the details that you learn to keep quite and close for fear of rocking the boat. We sustain our worlds with sorrow this way. But she was also looking for a way out. That was clear, even as she anxiously glanced at her watch and said she had to go.

Back in the cabin, I was eyeing up the midi keyboard. It came with this crappy software that allowed you to hook the keyboard up to the computer, and use whatever sounds you wanted the keyboard to control. I gravitated towards classical instruments, like violins and cellos. A music school was giving away samples of classical instrument recordings online. I downloaded a bunch of them, and started cutting and preparing pieces of those classical instrument sounds for the keyboard. It was pretty crude. With the way I had done it, as you hit higher notes on the keyboard, the software would attain and play back those higher notes by speeding up the original sample you stuck in it – so certain notes sounded like they were in fast forward (you’ve got to multisample to avoid this, I eventually figured out). I went along with this type of mangled, classical instrument sound.

I was thinking about my conversation with Natalie, and all the relationships I had left behind in Ontario. I typed out a “wish you were here” sentiment on a post card. I pulled out the old green acoustic guitar, and recorded the backing tracks and drums for this new post card inspired song. Even though it was crude and unsteady, I loved the new sounds I could make via the keyboard, and the mangled oboes and cellos fit perfectly into the mix. The bass went on, then finally the vocals. Sometimes, a song just comes together all on its own, and this one practically wrote and recorded itself. It was my best composition yet. I called up Marty. I wanted him to hear what I had done; I wanted someone else to be excited about it as well. Marty listened to it, and when I suggested he come over to the island to work on a song of his, he was pretty positive about the idea.