El Pianista (The Pianist)

The sunlight through my window made my eyes open. My mind felt foggy and the conversation from the night before about this day was still in my head. One week earlier my roommate Charlie asked me if I wanted to go with her to a festival.

Charlie "I have two tickets to a festival, do you want to go with me?"

I said yes, and I had my doubts. I recently moved in with Charlie after circumstances lead to me moving out of my previous home. I was hopeful, I knew the stars were aligning, and all the manifestations and prayers were coming to fruition. The week was coming to an end, and the festival was a few days away. The night before the festival, I had anxiety or what I assumed to be anxiety. The feeling in my stomach was overwhelming. It made me think about if I or should I not attend the festival. The last festival I attended was Electric Daisy Carnival (EDC) in Las Vegas Nevada, and the craving for attending another festival rested in my body waiting for the time to arise.

After I got myself out of bed and started my work day, that feeling formed in my stomach again. What is this? Why am I feeling this? Please go away... I chose to end my work day early and meet up with Charlie before the festival. I put on my best festival clothes, did extravagant makeup, and we left for the festival. The feeling showed up, but this time I felt it was a mixture of excitement about the festival I knew so little about and the anxious body of mine that overthinks things before experiencing them. The festival grounds is a multicultural and multidisciplinary non profit organization on the east side of Austin Texas. The "east side" I believe, is Austin. I can see the original roots of Austin all along the East side. It feels homey, quaint, and it is community driven. I looked to the left and saw a local DJ and because Austin is a fish bowl, it is very easy to see the same people that are involved in the art and music scenes. My stomach started to settle, I felt comfortable and ready to dance while experiencing the culture of the Cumbia music. Cumbia is popular in Latin America and the style of music varies from countries depending on their regions.

Charlie and I chose to eat lunch and get into a place with AC, because Texas is HOT! After lunch, we rejoined the festival and watched the first group of performers. In awe, my eyes drifted and danced between every band member on the stage. Their passion was transparent, their love was communicable. Each person's contribution to making collective sounds was appreciated. The instruments were medicinal and handcrafted, the band members pride was appreciated. Smiling took no effort to cross the mouths of every person around me. Older women expressed themselves with sass and charisma, children with their faces painted ran in circles and different parts of the grounds added so much energy to the space. One particular girl would dance, throw her hands to the sky, and scrunch her face, as if she was summoning loving and creative energy through her dance moves from the heavens. Charlie and I were in heaven. We appreciated the people, the culture, and all contributors involved. The face painting artist ask to paint our faces and we gladly accepted the parentheses of glitter around our eyes. It added essence and more sparkle to our personalities.

The next band began setting up, first the drummer set up. The guitarist and bass player followed. Little by little each member made their way onto the stage to set up. It felt like a game, how many people are actually in this group. I laughed to myself. I felt an energy over my right shoulder, and saw a man run past and towards the stage. My eyes locked on him as he steps onto the stage. He stumbles and keeps walking, as if it did not happen (courageous). I thought how brave to just keep going. Most people, including myself, would probably look down at what happened or feel embarrassment, he did not, and his reaction made me smile. Finally the band was starting and a beautiful Colombian woman walks on the stage. The music starts and her voice propelled across the lawn and straight into my ears. Her voice was angelic, actually, every band member was extraordinary. My eyes were locked on the pianist (key player) his instrument was a keyboard that strapped around his body. He played with ease and his confidence made me blush. The pianist and vocalist began to chant "WEPA WEPA WEPA" as the crowd chanted with them. Little things about the pianist made me laugh, and continue to stare in amazement at him. His stage presence made it hard to not look away.

Their set finished and I could not contain my applause and cheers for the celebration of every person that made their set indescribable. A drum circle commenced, we danced in a circle around each person that took turns to contribute their musical talents in the drum space. The energies of chanting, singing, and rejoicing, surrounded us created by every person at the festival. My eyes locked with the pianist behind his sunglasses I could see his eyes smile back at me. It is second nature to me to make eye contact and smile at most people I meet. I looked away, shy.

Later the opportunity for me to meet the pianist showed up and I shook his hand, his english skills and my spanish skills were exactly the same. Broken and very little, but our smiles towards each other was the only communication we needed. A band started playing and my attention was pulling me closer towards the stage. I danced with my eyes closed and the voice in my head said "open your eyes," I listened and to my right I saw a hand with a beer in it—I went to a house party with my older brother and his girlfriend's uncle was the "king of the home." Prior to me having my first drink, my brother said to me "if he offers you a drink, drink with him, it is respectful. OK?"—that memory has stuck with me since that moment. My eyes trailed up his arm and I realized it was the pianist that was offering me a drink of his beer. I thought to myself "fuck it, I am at a festival, surrender and enjoy yourself." We shared several beers and slowly got closer to each other. He said he would be right back and I continued dancing to the sounds that made me dance freely. Moments later he returned with two beers for him and I. I laughed, knowing how the night would go with him. I was curious and open.

"Salud (cheers)," we said to each other, and enjoyed the music. I felt I did not need to speak, I felt the silence was more powerful than the act of speaking. It felt easy, it felt I could be myself, it felt I didn't have to force anything.

He grabbed my hand and it shot a bolt of energy up my spine. He asked me to sit with him. He asked me questions first in spanish out loud before he translated it in his mind to english. He wanted to know who I was, he wanted to know about me. I answered with the feeling of nervousness in my stomach and heat in my cheeks as well as around my ears. I was not sure why he was interested in me, but I enjoyed every moment and whatever I could do to keep him close to me I did it and without much effort.

"Quieres bailar conmigo? (You want to dance with me?)," he asked me. I knew this question.

"Si(yes)," I said, without trying to hurt my face from smiling so hard or giggle like an adolescent.

He grabbed my hand and led me through the light crowd of people onto the dance floor. I swayed by myself and so did he. I was nervous to be vulnerable, do the wrong thing, or touch him if that was not what he wanted. I spun and faced him, grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to me. He trusted me and placed his hand on my lower back. We danced and laughed together. We pulled apart quiet often because the feeling was electric when we touched. It felt right, it felt like home.

"Drink?" he asked, before I could answer he turned and walked towards the drink booth. He returned with two more beers. We snapped the cans open, said "Salud (cheers)," drank down the first crisp sips, and grabbed for each others hands to dance again.

He stood behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder. He is taller than me, but it felt like it took no effort for our bodies to set into one another like a puzzle piece. Normally I would ask myself a bunch of questions about a guy that shows attraction to me. The 'am I worthy' questions or the "it's too good to be true" questions. With him I had no thoughts, I was so present that the flow took control. His body was warm and he hummed with appreciation when he touched me. I felt loved. I felt powerful to be a black woman, and accepted by a man that did not see me for my skin color. He kissed my cheek lightly and I had to pull away because of my nervousness. I looked at him and saw my glitter paint was on his face. I marked him. I laughed at myself for thinking that and I could not help myself. I hugged him and held him close to me. His sweet energy gave me a sugar rush, a sugar rush that was healthy, fulfilling, and yes I wanted more.

I felt courageous and in my element. I kissed him, he kissed back.

Me: "I have to go home because I work early tomorrow morning."

Him: "Okay, goodnight"

I walked away and onto the sidewalk. I turned around and he followed.

"Oh shit, what is happening, he is following me."

Me: "You have to stay here with your friends. Let's go meet your friends."

Him: "No, no, no."

I laughed, blushed, and grabbed his hand to walk him back into the festival towards his friends. I saw my friends were sitting in the lawn. I grabbed two chairs for him and I to sit down and he flopped into his chair. I pulled him towards me and lightly stroked his head to comfort him. We were pretty drunk, but I was the least drunk of the two.

Me: "I really have to go, you stay."

Him: "Okay."

I went home riding the wave of what happened. My body felt held up by an ocean wave. I felt supported and I did not want the feeling to end. I showered, got ready for bed, and opened my laptop. Searching Facebook for the festival name. That took me to the bands that played at the festival. I counted, "1, 2, 3..." in the order of the bands that played. I typed in the name of his band. Boom! I found him. I friended him and sent him a message thanking him for choosing me. I fell asleep.

I woke up before my alarm, excited to get out of bed.

"Did he respond, did he get my message? I hope, I hope, I hope."

Fingers crossed and butterflies soaring my body, YES! he responded. We talked and planned to meet up that night. I arrived at his hotel and was greeted by him and his bandmate.

Him: "Beer?'

Me: "Yes, thank you."

I was nervous because of our connection the night before and wondered if he remembered what I remembered. Being in his presence affirmed he did, and I was right where I needed to be. His bandmates and all the performers stayed in the hotel and gathered in his room to dance and sing. We shared our favorite music back and forth on his laptop. We drank a really strong tequila, smoked CBD smokes from the gas station, and drank beer after beer, while laughing and speaking to each other. Every person in the room showed their appreciation for each other. They would say things such as “this man is the best key player in the world!” Followed by “no, this man is the best guitar or bass player in the world.” Their love for each other made me fill up and spill over. I practiced my Spanish and he practiced his English. I sat on the bed and he sat next to me. I lightly stroked his head and back, remembering the feelings I feel when I was with him. I knew my time with him was coming to an end, and I needed to get my thoughts together about what that feeling would feel like. I didn't want to waste time and remained present. He led me to his bed and we held each other until we fell asleep

The day came when I knew he was leaving. I asked, "What time do you need to go the airport?"

Him:"5PM"

Me: "Perfect, we have so much time."

I went home, ran errands, cleaned my home and invited him to my house. I drove back to the hotel to give him a ride to my house. We arrived and he loved my new living space as much as I do. I cooked for him, I gave him an amethyst crystal to aid healing and spiritual growth, and I felt honored to nourish him and care for him on his last day in the USA. He slept on the couch and I rested in my bed. It was time to leave for the airport. We drove in silence. My heart was heavy. This moment was dreadful, It felt like all that I asked for was given to me and taken away so fast. I chose to be grateful for the experience. I chose to acknowledge myself for being courageous, stepping outside of my fear, and showing up with love in my heart and eyes. I acknowledged myself for letting another human into my life that made me gain trust for humanity, life, and the human experience. Everything I asked for showed up. What else can I create? We said our goodbyes and I drove away. I said to myself, "please look back." He did and waved goodbye...