A "Fucking Brilliant" Good Time with Francis Dunnery

"Tell me about your life," he said from his perch on the edge of the hard, black, plastic fold out chair I'd set out for him. He idly strummed and tuned his six string, slinking further back into the chair until his 6'5" frame was comfortably origamied and molded with the plastic. Inexplicably at ease, I moved a toy train to the side with my foot, sunk to the floor and began to do just that - to tell this man about my life.

So began my house concert with Francis Dunnery - the experience behind the concert anyway. We'd met a handful of times before at the Tin Angel and other venues. Every so often he'd ask "Have you gone to a house concert?" Followed by "You should have one. They're fucking brilliant! And not because of me...because of the energy they create."

I thought about it. Then I went to a house concert, and it was amazing. I sat in a room of (mostly) complete strangers and felt more at ease, at home, inside myself and my own skin than I had in months. Okay, so you may be thinking Big deal. It's a concert - you don't KNOW other people at a concert. Pffft. But, you see, I was in someone else's house!

Imagine going to the home of someone you don't know, paying them (roughly) $30 for the privilege and then sitting on their furniture to hear a concert. Dude. Seriously. It's transformative. By the end of the night I knew I wanted to host a house concert myself. I wanted that "fucking brilliant" energy in my house. I wanted to bring people together to share that experience - and for 90 minutes for all of us to be part of something more than our collective solitude.

A person of action, my desire quickly became a reality. On a visit to www.francisdunnery.com I completed the obligatory form, clicked the trusty 'submit' button and sent my request for the universe to deliver fucking brilliance into my life through the interwebs. And bam, a few short months later I was collapsed on the floor of my children's playroom telling Francis Dunnery about my life. Wild.

Meanwhile my second floor was filling up with friends, family and utter strangers - a clanging cacophony of voices soon to be replaced by a solitary harmonious one. Francis opens his house concerts by graciously thanking his host. All eyes fell on me and all I could do was thank him, and everyone there, for transforming my home into a shared union of laughter and music and light. Their presence, that of each and every person who sat in my front room and listened to one man's life through his music, still echoes in my heart and my home weeks later.

And now I'm left wondering, have you ever been to a Francis Dunnery house concert? They're fucking brilliant!