The rest of the film features brief scenes of an old couple swimming in Paris’ Canal Saint Martin (if you look close, one of them waves at me), an absolutely stunning vista from Bere Island in County Cork, Ireland, a brief shot of my brother and my father along the coast of Normandy, and a long-shot of a train ride down the coast from Dublin to County Wicklow, where I previously shared a song and video of an Irish river for paying subscribers that is now free for everyone to listen—see below)1
Creating these types of videos and recordings feels far more personal to me than any Instagram post or written piece can convey, especially because the piano recordings are improvised, which means I will never, ever play it the exact same way again.
Thank you to the 61 paid subscribers for making it possible to work on this deeper kind of work. For my 740 free subscribers, creating songs and videos take many hours to complete, which is why I will continue to paywall them. Quite simply, in a society that tends to value things monetarily, I have to believe that at least some of my work is valuable enough to be worthy of payment.
I have been in Barcelona for the past few days visiting old friends and making new connections. My hope is the next time I come here, I can perform a solo piano set at one or two venues, as well as discuss my writing at one of my favorite coffee shops in the world, Lulu & Flynn.
Tomorrow, I head back to Paris for La Rentrée, that pregnant moment of busyness, promise, and re-awakening that requires respecting routines and honoring the discipline I require to stay creative and happy (the ritual Monday nights Au Chat Noir, Tuesday night basketball leagues, writing at the Bibliothèque Historique de Paris in the Marais on Wednesdays, teaching at the Sorbonne on Thursdays, continuing to walk clients throughout the city over the weekends, and running the Paris Writers’ Salon on Sundays).
I am ready to hone-in on my focus for the changing colors in the months to come. Despite my Parisian proclivity for complaining about the singular grey cloud that hangs over the city from November-April, the old winter winds and darkening days invigorate me in a different, equally essential way.
Big things are coming for me this autumn, including the release—finally—of my next novel, which has been nine years in the making. The novel follows three characters—Viktor, Elsa, and Carl—who are navigating the difference between who they are and who they imagine they might become. It is about history, memory, and the Nazi Occupation of Poland, and there are only a few months more left to wait.
Here are a few photos of me enjoying life in Barcelona:
A bientôt, Samuél
PS
John Mayer’s song “Stop this Train” is one of my favorite songs ever written. The lyrics speak for themselves. This is my favorite rendition. Treat yourself this Saturday morning/afternoon with a coffee/tea and have a listen.
(don't) stop this train