September 3, late afternoon
Another ballad.
I'm sitting on Nádražní, the main street in the Ostrava center. It's funny how a place can become so familiar and how fellow festival goers and performers become the stand-in townspeople in the festival bubble. I know Ostrava, but it's an artificial Ostrava. Is that sad? Are ballads sad? Tomorrow I leave. In nine hours, even – 3:45 am train to get to the airport in Prague.
Angelica Sanchez is reminding me of someone here. Paul Bley? Paul Bley is as much a mood to me as he is a person. I wonder if I'll ever be here again. I may not, but I will know that the Americans I met here – Lisa, Beau, David, Larry, George, Pauline – all in or near New York, I'll always know I met them here.
I wasn't feeling sad to go before I sat down. It's not a street where people sit. It's time for dinner. A nice flutter at the end of the tune. This song is somber.
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