If I die tomorrow And come back a butterfly Find me a garden
This little poem sort of fell into my arms a few days ago within the newsletter of a wise old man, Soto, who showed me totally new ways of experiencing myself in motion last summer. It fits perfectly as a pick up for the first soundletter in this young new year as well as for the two songs I am sending to you this time.
I like the idea of leaving behind the past year and being welcomed by the new year in the shape of a butterfly needing a garden. It’s up to us to care for this garden, fertilize the soil, plant some flowers or trees, keep it quiet and healthy in a way that the butterfly is nourished by its surrounding, its home.
The two songs that I am giving to you within this letter are both linked to the feeling of being or coming home. Also, both of them have something to do with letting go - letting go someone to die, letting go idealistic inner pictures, letting go long learned patterns.
For Lola, one of the two songs, I also recorded an Acoustic Session in St. Ruperts Church in Vienna, which you can watch here:
Thanks again to Lukas, Amelie, Giovanna, Robin and Paul for making it sound and look that nice!
Here you can listen to and download the two songs:
Traces | mp3
Right now, I am kneeing on my tiny bed in the night train somewhere in the Czech Republik on my way to Berlin and Hamburg to play my very first two concerts as Palmanu. My cabin neighbors are breath-snoring and the outside is passing by dark and quiet. A good spot for writing these lines.
Next month, I am going on travels for some time - no laptop, no social media, no working. This is why I will skip the February soundletter and will give away the next two songs in March.
May all your gardens and butterflies have a fertile and fulfilling year!
Best, MJ
Lola
“I bin hoid ned daham” (I am not at home) - this is what my beloved granny Lola Oma said in every phone call we had in her last two years of being alive. Since she couldn’t cope with all the daily routines, she had to move out of the apartment where she was living for more than 50 years. After her relocation to a nursing home, she never really got used to the new surrounding she was living in.
Every time we met, we used to sing traditional Austrian folk songs together.. or, to be precise, she taught me a huge number of these songs and how to sing them and keep a second voice. No matter how wrong I was singing, in the end, she always called us the “Gesangsverein Eierklar” (the “egg clear choir” or something like that), which I loved. Here you can listen to this very famous granny-grandson choir singing “Es blies ein Jäger wohl in sein Horn”
In the very end of this recording, she says: “Na mia san scho guad du” meaning something like “we are good singers”. I imported this tiny audio snippet into the studio version of Lola. You can hear her talking at 2:10 of the song.
The way she was dealing with her mortality impressed me massively. Lola Oma never complained about anything and kept her dignity till the very end. In the moment she chose to leave, she was on her own, while knowing her family being close around. I could hold her warm hand until it got cold, which is one of the most important things I ever experienced. I am convinced she finally arrived at home again, where ever this might be or not be.
At her funeral in summer 2021, three students from the school she had built up in the 70ies were singing some songs with their wonderful voices. A few months later I asked them, if they wanted to sing and record the chorus of Lola in the church, where the funeral took place. They agreed and that’s what we did.
I also recorded some sound samples in the church as a basis for the beat that you can hear in the studio version of Lola. Here you can listen to the sound of the church walls and benches: church samples
In the final version of Lola Lukas is playing the piano, Robin is playing the drums in addition to the church sounds, Anna is playing double base, Veronika adds some flugelhorn and Klara, Vanessa, Benjamin and Giovanna are singing the backings.
Lyrics
You show me how to die in grace When the sun kisses your old face You taught me how to sing these songs Never cared, if I sing wrong And I sing wrong I did the best I could Is what you say before you go Did the best I could A decent girl, who tried to grow Did the best I could Soon it’s time for me to go To go home all alone Lola Oma I let you go Lola Oma it hurts me so Lola Oma you are at home You tell me you are not afraid Of death and all of his friends All of your friends have crossed that river And wait for you on the other side I did the best I could Is what you say before you go Did the best I could A decent girl, who tried to grow Did the best I could Soon it’s time for me to go To go home all alone Lola Oma I let you go Lola Oma it hurts me so Lola Oma In the end we don’t need anything to say Our eyes meet and the wind carries you away “Na mia san scho guad, du” I did the best I could Is what you say before you go Did the best I could A decent girl, who tried to grow Did the best I could Soon it’s time for me to go To go home all alone Lola Oma I let you go Lola Oma it hurts me so Lola Oma you are at home You are at home Lola
Traces
“You are grown up, when you do what you want, even if your parents also want you to do so.” (R. Bösel, 2022)
A few months ago, I have been to a super intense and emotional seminar together with my father. This is where I heard that sentence, which is accompanying my since then.
I always had a close and open relationship to my father. Nevertheless, around three years ago I startet to feel that, besides the safety and orientation it gave me, it also constricted me in a way. I didn’t feel free. Although no one told me to be or behave like him, I felt as if I did so in many ways. When I was frustratedly watching out a train window in early spring 2021 , I saw various traces in the snowy fields passing by. That’s how I felt in that time: as if I was just following his traces without being able to walk and find my own. This was the moment, when I instantly started to write the lyrics for Traces.
Accepting this and regarding our similarities and differences from various perspectives was hard work. It still is sometimes.
Thanks to that seminar last November and to both our willingness to continue trusting in our capability of transformation, a new form of relationship is constantly growing between us. It is a little unfamiliar still, but I deeply feel that I am arriving home to myself within this process more and more.
Thank you Papa for walking this path with me and letting me go in the same time!
Here you can find the very first demo version of traces that I recorded just a few days after writing the lyrics in the train: Traces demo
In the studio version of the song Lukas is playing the piano once again, Anna is playing double bass and Mario made the beat.
Lyrics
You left traces, painted scars I keep them in a timeless box Now my face is a stranger’s mask Your traces seem to guide my own Traces follow traces leaving traces Traces follow traces leaving traces Will it stop? All these paintings pull me down Step by step I follow you Lead me straight and let me drown In this sea of tears and open frames How could I’ve known, when I was young That pain needs solace, tears and love? Now I am grown, still I feel young And this pain still hurts from far above Traces follow traces leaving traces Traces follow traces leaving traces Every single tear needs to be cried Every single word needs to be said I will leave your path And find my own Soon I let it go How could I’ve known, when I was young That pain needs solace, tears and love? Now I am grown, still I feel young And this pain still hurts from far above Traces follow traces leaving traces Traces follow traces leaving traces Let it go, let it go Oh, I let it go The boy I was, the man I am We let it go and leave this game