Sara Culler

I remember the humid air buzzing of locusts and then getting hit by the air-conditioning's perfect temperature carrying the aroma from the most splendid foods you can imagine and the sound of a grand piano playing.

I could have been about three or four and going to The Northwood Club with my American grandmother and grandfather to drink, eat and swim was one of my favorite things to do. For those of you who don't know what a Country Club is I'll explain. A Country Club per definition is a private club with recreational activities like golfing, tennis, swimming and spa. You generally have to apply or be invited by someone and it's pretty expensive. Since my grandparents were pretty wealthy they could afford such memberships. They later moved to Dallas Country Club but that's a whole other story that is wonderful and I'll tell you about it some other time.

It was me in a pink and white, small checkered dress and golden locks entering the dining area. Suddenly the music stopped and a man popped out his head from behind the piano. He looked at me and started to play again. This man - Lets call him the piano man - Always played my, at that time, favorite tunes. The musical songs "Send in the Clowns" from A Little Night Music and "Memory" from Cats. Mom and I requested the songs once and EVERY single time I entered the room after that the piano man would play them. My favorite of the two was "Send in the Clowns".

I turn 30 on July 23rd this year. I'm sitting here writing this and I'm listening to Judy Collins version of "Send in the Clowns". Her voice has that brittle sound and it aches of empathy. You might know her from her backing vocals on Leonard Cohen's "Susanne". He's one of my all time favorites but that too is a whole different story that might appear here sometime. I'm in a sentimental and existential period of my life right now so listening to the song is kind of hard. The song is about the classic theme of two people parting but in my head and in this time of my life it could just as well be about parting from a place, life or era that has come to an end. That is where I'm at right now fortunately with David by my side. We could surely use some clowns around here.

I wonder what he's doing now - The piano man. Is he alive? He would probably be my father's age so I guess if nothing has happened to him, that he would still be alive. I get moved every time I think how this man made the little girl happy - How he made me happy by playing these songs. He made me feel so special. Did he know that? Does he know that now - 27 or so years after - I sit here, moved to tears. Thinking about what he did for me makes my heart warm - Still - After all these years.

I might just record a cover of "Send in the Clowns" one day. I wish I knew his name - The piano man. If anybody knows anything about him - The man who played piano at Northwood Club in Dallas, Texas sometime in the beginning of the 80ies - Let me know.

/Sara

Clock rings at 8.30 - I sleep in until 11.00 - One more day in Malmö - Am I still here?
Sit at the computer - Check the pages I conduct to see if anybody's trying to contact me.
Surf some meaningful /-less matters and then give up.
Look at the guitar and think of how much I enjoy playing music but there is a block between it and me - A physical and psychological block THEY put there.
Get anxious or angry.
Eat a belated breakfast and finish my tea.
Search for a job, continue to surf meaningless matters, or take a walk.
Buy lunch - Cook lunch - Eat Lunch.
Look at the guitar and think of how much I enjoy playing music but there is a block between it and me - A physical and psychological block THEY put there.
Get sad.
Prepare for yoga practice.
Bike/walk to yoga practice.
Help Mine with the studio routines before opening - Open - Guide newcomers and assist.
Yoga practice - Kill myself as much as I can.
Help clean studio.
Bike home.
Buy dinner - Cook dinner - Eat dinner.
Watch reruns on TV.
Think - How many more reruns will I watch - Question my life here in Malmö once again.
Look at the guitar and think of how much I enjoy playing music but there is a block between it and me - A physical and psychological block THEY put there.
Get empty.
Make way for a new day by going to bed thinking - Tomorrow will be exactly the same.

David is checking the compressor to start recording a double miced piano. The sun is out and I can see blue skies for the first time in weeks - More clouds are rolling in so it probably won't be clear for long. Dave Grohl lists six principles of a happy, successful life on msn.com - I read it - Did Dave really list this? Maya, I'm sending thoughts to you - You don't need a wicked boyfriend - No one does - You need a beautiful one. Karin, I hope your leg is better.

I heard screams outside my window and they sounded almost like fighting cats but they were Magpies (Magpie = Skata) fighting! Three of them jumping on each other pecking. I banged my window and they flew away - Shattered - A couple of meters away and stared at each other. This made me think of Lisa Germano's latest release - A WONDERFUL album. There are birds on the cover - Even a Magpie. I'm listening.

Revelation - I found out I actually like figs. I've always liked dates so one would have thought that I might have liked figs but I haven't - Until now.

I have to start working on new translations. I finished a mastodon part before Christmas and I've been reluctant to start on a new one. Not that I think that it'll be as big as the other one. It's fun but it messes with your mind. I'm translating the product text for different brands of organic and biodynamic body care. Words like revitalizing, enhance, tranquilizing and essential get stuck in your head until you find yourself walking around like a human add machine...

I have to start recording again. It's been so hard and I've been trying to pep talk myself. I found a new shitty thing about me on the I-net the other day which made me come so close to quitting everything and move to a isolated place. My dad practiced Karate. He had a 4th dan black belt and a sensei of his own in Japan. He almost converted to Zen Buddhism. This was when I was about 2. I remember it like it was yesterday. Seeing him coming up the road in front of my grandmother's house. He came from Japan. I couldn't see it was my dad. He looked like an old lady, draped in a large trench coat and a big fuzzy "old lady's knitted hat" because he had shaved off his shoulder long, wavy brown hair. I've always thought that if everything comes tumbling down - If the world becomes too much - I would crawl to a Zen Buddhist convent, never to return. My options nowadays could also include a place of yoga - Not an Ashram - Just a place close to good people and great practice.

I have great songs lying around waiting to get recorded. I have to - What else can I do.

It's totally cloudy outside. Again.

XO,
Sara