Armenia You Are Calling Me

I have been in England for all of 48 hours and already there has been a massive bomb scare at the airport this morning. I am glad I missed that but it makes me think about the world we are living in and all the madness surrounding us - where man forgets to be man and to celebrate life and in contrast decides to destruct life and the beauty that surrounds it.
My four months in Armenia are temporarily over. I am "home" for 5 weeks taking care of the mastering and duplication process which will have me in Paris for a few days at the beginning of September. I am counting the days (33 in total) to my return where I will give my CD release concert and see the fruit of all the tenacious work that took place in Yerevan.
I felt this last image of watermelon was appropriate in demonstrating a typical Armenian roadside scene. It is appropriate in demonstrating the abundance and life in the land that I love so much. I can tell you that stepping on to the plane and no longer hearing Armenian around me or seeing the beautiful faces of our people was difficult to bear. I didn't come up with a masterpiece but I will share what I felt and what I put on paper (a napkin to be precise) on my 5 hour return to the land of rain and for the record currently the most expensive city in the world with wages that don't match according to recent statistics. What fun.

The sweet scent of my dusty soil, my crystal water, my mountains
Permeates my clothes, my hair, my fingers
I can only inhale hungrily that which remains temporarily
Like a half-crazed lover, famished for his other
Only just departing in a sea of different faces
10,000 miles above the earth morbid history repeats
As I am exiled once more from that which belongs to me
I feel the loss of my vocabulary, my language has gone
My lips form the vowels of that which is not mine
My land my beautiful Armenia I am all of you
Each day without you is another day less than who I am
Each day I vow to bring myself back to you
Where it was meant that I should exist amongst the memory
Of my fathers, fathers, my long lost fathers
Only to touch your hallowed ground shall my soul rise to your heavenly mountains
I inhale all of you and hold my breath to reach you once again
To celebrate my love

All that inspired on BA flight 6872 or whatever it was. Believe me - I feel a part of me has been wrenched out and my happiness lies in knowing i will be returning. One cannot explain easily the beauty of life there. It mainly has to do with the fact that humanity still exists. Family remains a family, friends remain friends, there is respect for one another, there is a love for life and all this prevails through the most difficult conditions and hardships. Yes - of course there are bad things too like there are in all parts of the world but truly the quality of life was so much better than the rat race of material acquisition I have returned to.

My last days in Armenia were hectic ones. The CD mixing finished beautifully. We showed a premiere of the music video on Thursday evening on "Nor Alik" Channel 1. My parents managed to see it via satellite in England and where overwhelmed with emotion. I was personally overwhelmed by the kind words that all the guests present had to offer after viewing the video. I cannot thank the people enough for understanding, encouraging and appreciating my music. I had a fantastic team of people behind me and everything fell into place so much better than if I had planned it. Trusting my gut and listening to my rhythm I followed a path I knew I had to take. This has been such an astounding experience I wish that everyone can feel something like this at least once in their lives.
I said my temporary goodbyes and thank you's to everyone who made this a possibility. I am eager to see them again and in the meantime will be practising like a good musician to make sure I can give it my best on the 24th of September.

Love to all and thanks to all who have been following this blog, listening, and supporting me.
I will drop in soon - perhaps with some photos of Yorkshire cows, pint glasses, Marks & Spencer, and beautifully manicured homes with perfect gardens, perfect cars, perfectly groomed children, and the odd biddy walking in a park with a walking stick, Wellington boots and a hunting cap.
Peace
S