I Saw Jill Barber Play, and You Should See Her, Too, Because of Greatness

I went to see Jill Barber at the Royal Saskatchewan Museum with Sabrina for her birthday tonight.

I don't get out to see live music often enough, because I have this odd idea stuck in my head that I don't like it. I think it's the protective voice of my introversion asserting itself, forecasting the stressful nature of crowds and dark rooms with less obvious exits. I need to remember that I like dark rooms with less obvious exits when I am distracted by greatness like that of Jill Barber.

When I listen to live music, I write in my head almost the entire time. Most of it is poetry, and I stamp out mood and meter while my mind casts more easily back on the notes through my memory for small, meaningful fish. In the middle of every live show I go to, I wish I had one of those pens with an illuminated tip so I could write it all out in the dark. I read once that Roger Ebert had a pen like that for writing notes during movies he was reviewing.

Jill Barber had me writing love poems and heartbreak poems and how-to-make-your-heart work poems for over an hour, and I could have stayed for hours more. I must buy a light-up pen.

Thank you, Ms. Barber. Let's do this again sometime.

I'm taking part in NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month, during which I am publishing a blog post every single day during the month of November.

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