Whangerei. The Old Library. Once upon a time, I think this was a new library, but not any more, not since they built a more recent one just behind it. I imagine that in years to come there will be more of them, one behind the other, with names like, "Relatively older", "moderately newer", and "a bit more recent". This was last night's venue, and now as I am writing, and sailing the seas to the island of Waiheke I can reflect on what was my second musical engagement.
One of the most striking events of my day in Whangerei was meeting Ki, an earnest young American who took it upon himself to walk into the venue as I was sound checking. He loved the guitar playing he'd heard from outside, and when we talked he was full of deep philosophical musical analogies that seemed to indicate a search for meaning was taking place within his soul. When he spoke, whatever it was that he came out with was followed by a gaze, a look towards me that seemed to ask for recognition, a nod of approval maybe. I took to him; he reminded me of me.
I needed some fresh air, and the two of us took a walk. Along the way we bumped into Mercy; they knew each other. When I inquired, she informed me that she was from Galway, so I asked, "What brought you to New Zealand?", "God brought me here", she replied. That was just about the point when the three of us walked past a trance of Hari Krishna devotees engrossed in bell ringing and dance. This was turning into quite an afternoon. Maybe someone was trying to tell me something.
Anyway, Mercy talked to me all about sin, and good and bad, and how wrong other believers are in their biblical interpretations, and she seemed so lovely and so innocent, and so Irish that it was just good to listen to her.
The concert went well, with a larger audience than the previous evening - but only just.
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