Mysteries must be experienced rather than explained.
An object imbued in fantasy, a thing that links outside itself, that is the splendor of imagination.

Baltim, habitue of Cafe for small talks

The world behind Sae is quiet and fixed, frozen and beautiful. She is the perfect occupant for the house here ON TOP OF THE WORLD.
When we looked from on high into the dangerous rocks and cliffs she said: "A fear of heights is nothing more than a fear of depths. Flat land is like a dull story."

I stopped talking. Polar forces controlled my brain.

Baltim, habitue of Cafe for small talks

I know I have a rough voice. I prefer to bang my head against the wall to know how it feels to say "ouch". Such an experience moves me.
In fact I'm just terrible lonesome. Believe me under my skin there is a kind of love. I'm doing these things in stead of crying out my pain.

Baltim, habitue of Cafe for small talks

I'm jumpy ever since meeting her, Sae. She had come over to the cafe to listen to my new song text, but she teases me.

I'm waiting in my room to see if she is coming. No. I close my eyes. She will be here soon. I stare at the doorway, but she isn't around.

Never again I will knock on her door.

Baltim, habitue of Cafe for small talks

This is a new day. I feel so alive forgetting the world I have left behind. Nothing is for sure, except what is coming today.

I'm playing a new song in my mind singing to myself, to an imaginary audience. My brain is dancing.
I'm ON TOP OF THE WORLD.
Sound is a better medium to communicate astonishment than words or images or shapes. My whole body can feel the sound.

Baltim,
habitue of Cafe for small talks

Two years ago I lived in Russia, where I met Beatrice. She became my muse. I kept her at arm's length, but she was never out of my mind. I was content writing songs for her.
After a year she bored me like paradise. I had no longer reasons whatsoever to write songs. In my head every event has to be an adventure. The romance was gone.

I travelled around, doing nothing. I'm still top-heavy of all the unlucky souls I carry with me. I'm feeling low.

I hope inspiration will come back now I'm in Greenland.

Baltim.
habitue of Cafe for small talks

This is what I like most, cold midwinter nights and white days dense with sunlight. The snow is melting and freezing again and again into different shapes.
All those years traveling around in Europe and the States I had all the comforts I needed. Am I still capable to suffer deprivation?
Baltim, the bayman
member of timecircle community.

About twenty years later I sit on the old orange Formica-topped table in my parental home in Avalon. My father died ten years ago. I think over his last words: 'Pray for my soul.' I never did, I do not believe in any God!

He once told me the story of two men dying because one was hurt and the other wouldn't leave him or did so too late to save himself. Was it an image for the unrestricted loyalty he had expected from me, his son? I try to judge the self-centredness of my father and my obsession with freedom. I am of the opinion that we both failed.

the bayman
member of timecircle community.

I tell my father I am leaving the house going to Montreal or even further south. All the time I am talking, he looks into the distance and when I pause, he says: 'Go my son! I will bear my pain. And if you're hearing never more of me, then pray for my soul.'</font>

I knew what he expected me to do, but I had high ambitions that time. I left the house.

the bayman
member of timecircle community.

My father picked always the most remote lake he could find for our walks. On one of these trips he stooped and picked up some snow. 'Don't eat that', he said. 'Not even if you hold it in your mouth and let it melt before you swallow it, not even if you hold it there so long that it gets warm. The heat that makes it warm comes from you.'
We lived in a place where a man could die if he spends the night outdoors.

the bayman
member of timecircle community.