Wyrd Visions

I snuck into the room as quietly as I could. I walked in after Wyrd Visions had begun his set in the Tiki Room at the Tranzac. I was pleased with myself. On a bill of three artists, he was the only one that I was interested in seeing, and I had the feeling that he would perform second-the meat substitute in the middle of the fringe-indie musical sandwich.
The gas fireplace was blazing, candles were lit, and the lights were out. Everyone was already seated in mismatched couches or on the floor. There was a dead space of about three feet between Colin Bergh and the nearest spectator. Was it left out of respect or shyness?
He gave me exactly what I wanted last night-a long set, with no pauses, which seemed to cover his entire album. I was looking for a mood...to feel like my ears were taking a long swim in a dark pond with mysterious, leafy depths. Mr. Bergh, at one point stifling a yawn, delivered.
(does he have a day job? I'm going to take a moment to enjoy imagining what else he might do.)
The lights went up and I looked around me.
I started to think about how I've been interested in many different types of artistic expression and group activity. I like making and listening to music, but I don't feel comfortable with many of the people who make or appreciate it. I enjoy looking at art, and crafting, but am uncomfortable with the art scene. I love reading, but feel like the world of writing and publishing is not one that I would fit into. I thought back to the shows I've been to where there is a wonderful moment when the music seems to be the only thing in the room, and fashion, age, style, location, weather and all nagging thought about anything other than that feeling melts away. I need to find a way to be present at more of these moments, and to make them happen more often myself.
I hung out with a kitten on my way home, and went to bed happy.
Wyrd Visions. 5 bucks, Tranzac, Monday October 15th