mourning in jet city

"a foul-mouthed clown", pictured right

on the way to our show tonight, we passed cafe racer, site of senseless loss, of  a tragedy of shakespearean proportions.  a group of about ten mourners stood on the sidewalk weeping.

one of the victims, who portrayed a "foul-mouthed clown" in a vaudeville/burlesque show, was a booker at the cafe known to many of the seattle musicians we've collaborated with since the nineties.  greg, who played with us tonight, had a regular gig there.

when we walked into the chapel performance space, the stage was festooned with two large bouquets of flowers (one bunch contained my favorite flower, the pink peony).  after we teched and warmed up, tari nelson-zagar, a violinist we've known for years, handed us two bags of short bread cookies.  "these and the flowers are from kat.  she thought we needed them tonight." 

before the concert, we held a minute of silence to honor the deaths. 

 it was good to see friends in the chapel tonight, to end a sad day with something hopeful:  music performed and created for love, not money, and a community of people who put others ahead of themselves. 

the love was strong tonight, and i felt so lucky to be there, to be here still

in every sense,

on a thursday night, making music in seattle.