Home home, again. (Airdrie).
Time to reflect, space to remember.

7 cities, 8 concerts. Too many stories to count.

We’ve collected even more hearts, even more memories, mantras, silly inside jokes and chants and phrases ingrained in our collective spirit, the tiny gestures, habits, quirks, flaws that make us all the more mysteriously, freshly, curiously in love. Endlessly proud. Endless humbled.

We did it. Look at how far we’ve gone. 0 miles, 0 kilometers. Just there and back again. Re-growing into who we were always supposed to be, already were, are, already there, just re-remembering. Simply profound. All the reasons we allow magic to unleash and blossom and dare to be felt within ourselves, through each other. Terrible and strange and familiar.

Here’s to our own mementos, mixed with the tender, surprising, awing wisdoms, insights, poetry of everything, everyone we crossed paths with these past 3 weeks. These words, stories, colours, pen-marks, drawings, scribbles, handwriting we can’t decipher, languages we can read or translate … all the sincere and honest attention you shared … they truly touched our hearts. Every time I read your messages in this precious guestbook, my heart twinges again, is surprised again - by the tenderness, the truth, the endearment, the simple profound magic of falling in love with fresh memory, you - stranger, long lost friend, family, community. One drum, one beat.

As we always say, wild. Absolutely wild.

Strawberry, asparagus, transform!
A spell and a promise.

All my relations,

Tong

p.s. For a more darker/personal side of the fairy tale… “DP’s Delivery Service”

Renshi

our collaborate poem~

<3

The blessing has always been
Being able to share in this moment with you.
For you, a thousand times over,
I suspend my disbelief.
I see you, I hear you
and my home is within me.
Happyness is love. health…
幸福就是爱，健康，知足，相思，包容…
Home has walls, love, sweetness, sadness
and all the supports…
To have a roof above your
head
The best ornaments to a house
are the people that frequent it.
When words fail,
music speaks.
I always thought - actually,
there are a lot of places like home.
There’s nothing like the smell of
mom’s cooking.
The violin sings…
in the comfort of a warm lounge of a stranger’s home…
Ripples of love
flowing outwards
touching + caressing
Home is the people I’ve loved, the ones who’ve loved me,
including the ones I’ve yet to meet.
Home is sweet memories,
memories sweetens heart
Home is the warmth and the fluffiness of your comforter
Home is your mother’s homecooked comfort meal
Home is your pet running to you upon the door opening
Home is where your love, your dream and your soul resides <3
Beethoven and Liszt are home for me!
Wherever in the world. Special feelings, notes, words, gratitude. <3 Love.
Home is where one finds love,
And to love.
Home is where my heart settles down
where I feel most calm & comfortable to be myself
Home is being surrounded by
loved ones and priceless memories

Your music is a tapestry
That weaves people together
Spring, summer, winter, fall - all seasons
have a beginning + an end
And different places (homes) have
different seasons unique to there
Seasons & homes have comings and goings,
softness & claws, rest & hunger
watching & listening
Home can be hearing other people be at home
bearing their souls
These foolish things (remind me of home)
Right now I feel at home
I’m wondering why
Finding home outward, in communities, music, art, friends, builds the home we build for ourselves as individuals.
Home is hardly ever just one place, but a person, a language, a CD from your parents’ car, or the smell of the type of tree that grew under your childhood bedroom.
I’ve been thinking a lot about home since I just moved a few months ago. It’s so interesting and rewarding to be creating an intentional physical space and also community to feel like home.
Amid the din of bustling metropolis
A humble building offers musica about home

无论在哪，能和自己爱的人在一起就是有家的感觉。
Music has the magic to heal and purify our hearts, also has the power to amend and build our hearts. Home is where our hearts are.
Music and arts are food for one’s soul - they remind us the beauty and love in this world.
Music can bring you to everywhere. It can also bring you home.
Home is the smell of herbs and basmati rice, the sound of tar and setar, and the warmth of people … what we call “safa” over a sip of black tea…
Home: I grew up in Brasil, Peru, Costa Rica, and the U.S. They are all home but most of all Brasil, the land of my mother’s and my birth. Home is the ripe goiaba, at once sweet and floral, tropical, plain on the outside, maybe bruised, resplendent, vibrant pink on the inside, like my land. Thank you for encouraging me to think about it.
My home is beautiful, peace, brave, freedom loving Ukraine. I fall asleep and wake up with broken heart. But I hope and pray, hope and pray.
Home is where your people are.
Home is where beautiful questions are born … Memories are created by those beautiful questions … Never forget the questions…
Home is where you feel safe, love, understood, accepted, and above all: happy!
Home is where people embrace you whether they saw you yesterday or many years ago.

Da capo :||