It happened monday night. it was rhymes of an hour

Imagine a frantic day at work. Really good, but frantic. 

You get out of there, only to run some more.

Tap tap tap down the stairs, quick into the metro, you stand still a few minutes,  ready to dive into the flow as soon as it’s your turn to jump out of the wagon. Tap tap tap up the stairs, quick turn on the right, out you get and then a few more minutes of nearly running, but not quite: it wouldn’t be proper in your little skirt. You suddenly fall on it: the Shakespeare and Company library. 

A little something facing Notre Dame de Paris, a true feeling of Britain, little garden chairs and tables outside... I hurry inside and then stop.

I just stop.

To take the time to look.

Books. Books and books. Books running up the shelves, books on the tables, books on the stairs, books  everywhere you look. History books, novels, serious essays…. It’s all untidy but wonderful at the same time. There are probably hundreds of treasures to be unfound here, thousands of books waiting for your hands to open them and dive into their stories. You have Arthur Conan Doyle there and Bill Bryson not far from him.  Poe is sitting on a throne like he should.

And there were people too. Far more people than expected. Far more people than had been invited to Rhymes of an Hour.

People sitting on chairs, on cushions, on the bare floor, people standing  inside or outside in the drizzle not minding it in the slightest, because they knew what was coming. To be honest I didn’t. I had no idea. Funny huh? I had only come because I had promised Angelina and had run out of my “not-showing-up” quota.

So she took me by the hand placed me right at the front on a reserved bench. I felt VIP and confused. I felt quite out of place in my little posh outfit sitting in this cosy little British place. But I was too tired to care. I just sat there and waited for it to be over.

After a few minutes this clumsy looking tall blond Swidish like boy stumbled in for a sound check.

 And then time stopped for an hour. Thos Henley that was his name. That was the name of a pure voice, a strong voice that carried you away into fresh and funny love stories, both ironic and romantic at the same time.  We all fell into silence and stared at him. I got shivers all over, standing within inches of him, listening to him singing how he loved the stains on the sweatshirt of the girl he loved.  Listening to the sound of his guitar, oblivious to what went on outside the door of this world.

After a few songs he stopped, and we were all so happy to be there together, all so relaxed. And because at last I was okay, because for the first time since Wednesday  I  actually felt great I took the time  to smile, and appreciate the moment.

That’s how I noticed the blazing-haired girl next to me.

So while the next singer is coming, let me introduce you to Paula Bonet. She had come all the way from Valencia to draw this acoustic concert. She had come with her big white sheets, her brushes, her pictures, her talent her smile and her simplicity. Amazing how talented people are not pretentious.

And while the singer from You and You let out that sound I love so much, that Bye Bye song echoing through the bookshelves, she was there both listening and drawing what that time inspired her. I have never dreamed so much of being a photographer than that evening. To capture the closeness between all of us, our attentive yet absent-minded faces as we dived deep with the singers. The half drawn smile on our faces, the remains of the long day slowing washing away.

Baden Baden was next, getting laughter out of us with their incredible sound, their xylophones their amazing creativity, their uniqueness.

You see, you have to get this about me. I’ve never been to a  REAL concert. I’ve seen bands live on stage at parties and stuff.  But I had never seen a band I truly loved in flesh and bone, performing those songs that got me dreaming, that made me a better person, that got me vibrating.

And because Angelina is who she is, she had done things not well but perfectly. And with Isa and Come, they had managed the greatest. They had got Moriarty as the surprise band.

And if there is one band that turns me on, it is Moriarty. I listen to them in circle, their song send me to another world, they make shiver all over and cry within seconds if I don’t guard myself.

And here I was, sitting so close to them that when the guitar player moved he would brush against me. Here I was, gazing at them from the floor where I was sitting, wishing that the pure crystal sound of Rose Marie’s voice, that the wonderful harmonics, that their songs would never stop, that their hands would never stop moving on their guitars.  I was sitting there, thinking that the evening was perfect and that all was well.

Too soon, all too soon the enchantment was over.

Yet, for a little while still, as I walked back home in the night, the pictures of us listening reverberated in my eyes,  and the sound of guitar voices and drums echoed in my ears.

And for the first time since I arrived in Paris, I didn’t need no headphones. 

Those memories were enough.

So I’ll end this beautiful night here and say one last thing.

Thank you.

all pictures are property of Paula Bonet, please respect them.