by: Patrick Abrahamsen

“I’ll be there as soon, as I’ve dropped of the kids”

So is the appointment that Varna and I agree on. The idea is for her to drop by for a chat and a coffee. Not exactly sure yet, what it will be about, but one thing is for sure, it is always an interesting conversation with a person like Varna with that amount of passion.

Biting, is the word to describe the weather. Wind coming down from a clear sky. Cutting through the bones, like a heavy blanket of loneliness clouding the mind.

Knocking on the door. First time not hearing it, as I am going about my own thoughts. My small apartment, showing the leftovers from a broken marriage and a time with a “united” family, now just left silent with a fresh pot of coffee ready.

Varna is treated welcome and a warm smile. Our history is joined by different paths, curly and broken on each one of our strings of silk. Both with a “home” in Tasiilaq. Both with a past in justice.

Both with a history joined in humor and laughter.

The dots along Varnas smiling wrinkles, are moving slightly as she smiles and says “hi”. They show a testament to her cultural heritage and the respect she has for the same.

From that one split second “Am I in the right place?” look, as she with a question mark embedded on her forehead, mild open eyes and a slightly open mouth, to the next “yes I am” look, as her eyes shift to a more joyful glance, and the open mouth turns into a smile, slightly asymmetrical opening the arms for a warm hug.

Both of us find a place on my very worn down leather couch. Not soon after we are already talking about the files she sent me. Files containing her new music. Varna the musician in now sitting in front of me. No longer the friend with the joint history. The transformation is clear, the passion is all filling and her eager is so clear.

It is like Varna sees sounds, which are hard for her to translate into words. Hard for her to take the sounds, and make images by using words. The passion in her music though is different, because here she shines.

The track “Sila” is now exploding in my ears.

Every experience is always individual. An image of sound is simple. “Sila” takes me back to Tasiilaq. I find myself rocking meditatively, sitting on the couch all the while I am back in the nature. Back in the valley of flowers, no past that, all the way to the third lake. The sound of wind raging by me, makes me connect with a recurrent dream, we properly all have had, where I am able to lift of the ground and fly around. Float up into the sky, observing from above the daily lives on the ground. Every move in slowmotion although life is like a highway on the express lane. The track reminds me of those hours alone in the nature, surrounded by nothing but the sound of silence.

Just the deafening sound of my own heart beating. That beating you take by being afraid of being alone, but also that beat of silence that calms you, the beat of nature.

A revolt of different thoughts shoots though my mind, listening to the other tracks. The collaboration of that deep basement bass, intertwined by Varnas multiple clear singing, both in a traditional and modern way embracing that inner beat that sparks your inner reminiscence of your past.

The four tracks I’ve been pleased by Varna to listen to, are indeed the sound of her resonance. So far around she has travelled in her artistic life. Now that artist, sitting in front of me, is reaching for the Aurora Borealis, so that energy will flow through her artistic soul and into her music. That way she in this moment, with her facial expression, embracingly easy, listening and feeling is able to show her way to be warming in this conversation. The essence of her music is, that it origins from her own universe, but what we as individuals see and feel, is our absolute own experience.

Another jug of coffee is brewing. Brewing on that steel coffee filter my good friend Sam once threw at me. Back then not knowing how grateful I would be today for that very same thing. Varna and I discussing pictures of the mind. How song resonate, music experiments and how we as human being act. One hour it took, but if only I could sit one entire day with her. Drifting into her universe. A universe I’m not quite able to fully understand, but I don’t need to. I just need to accept that it is hers, and be grateful that she, through her music has allowed me access.