More than a bootleg... a revealing story...a touching music flow.
Thinking back, I remember what happened that day, what I felt and the sharing I had with our Japanese family who joined us in the temple as the rain was persistently veiling the sky and surrounding the music with it's chant, but as I started to watch the bootleg, I had the precious chance to have another perspective, to live it in a fresh way, to give to it a new place in my heart and allow myself to grasp it's numerous gifts.
Silently watching the beautiful images, I was touched to see the simplicity of the moment, I was amazed by the soft peacefulness flowing through the room, I was noticing all the smiles and the eyes closed which were surely very sensitive to all that can't be caught on camera, I was also impressed by the face of Alex expressing such honesty. He was telling a story of his own, sharing such intimate memories. This time, music wasn't loud enough to cover any feelings or to shade any truth, this time music was uplifting every single detail of every word, every emotion, every offering of life passing away the borders of Alex's lips as we, musicians, were trying simply to craft a cradle that could rock gently, respectfully, carefully the moment that was birthing in front of our eyes. That moment was made of courage and of love as we all heard a song about suffering and doubts, about betrayal and isolation, about a quest and revelation, about the reality that a journey is made of so many colors that can take time to understand, to grasp, to accept and to let shine freely... Can't you see these mysterious colors in the mirror? I sometimes prefer not to look at all in any mirror... Alex was strangely singing a story that could be mine, that could be yours... and if we had also that courage to expose our story... and if we could find the strength to love ourselves enough to take one more step in this journey toward freedom and dreams... and if we were to trust, stepping out of the loud music and rumbles, stepping out in the light, letting ourselves be known, letting ourselves be touched... letting ourselves be known...
For me the title "Running through the rain of estrangement, catching pure drops of diamond bliss." means that the same thing that can make me want to run away, to hide,protect and isolate myself, that very same thing or situation can in fact be a source of refreshing blessings, new visions and enlightening revelations. I might be completely wrong... but to me, the whole concert gathering people of different cultures, ages and religions in a centenary temple, the whole context of the violent rain protecting more than threatening our peaceful communion, all these paradox were a demonstration that opposition doesn't mean impossible, that HOPE, FAITH and LIFE are reachable from anywhere we're at.
Catching pure drops of bliss... I want that:)
Miss Isabel