ANCIENT BELGIQUE – BRUSSELS:
My angel has many professions, builder, petrol pump attendant,
postman. Today he’s a bus driver.
“Would you like a bit’ve toast?” he asks, bright-eyed, full of life,
even after hours behind the wheel. I stumble around, toothbrush in
mouth, raise a hand declining. Everyone’s asleep, parked up on a
Brussel’s street, talks about his sons with pride, the truck driver,
the medical insurance salesman, about his love for them, about being
a parent, a partner, a man. This is stuff I need to hear, sitting
across the table, nodding, scooping mashed wheat & rice milk as he
hands me a mug of camomile & honey, unsure if the damage I did to my
throat last night will allow me to sing I shut up & listen, feeding
on his medicine, growing stronger, cleaner, ride with him up front
in his cab, Beethoven Piano concertos underscoring the stone faces
of a Belgian rush hour.
(K)
You’ve already taken me higher!
I smell and hear Brussels through your diary.
I wonder if you sensed the solar eclipse this morning, and what music you might create to express it.
Love from London x
Floradix Sage Tea
Soothes a thrash’d throat*
Your velvet voice gave 100% last night indeed 🙂
This was my best U/W concert ever. The city, the food, the French audience and the whole day that started and ended with you.
Thank you!
angelique belgique
My new sneakers are from palladium.
The jeans you putts on at 14.3. must come from heaven,perfect for you:)