Back in the blog.

What is up with my lack of blogging? I guess that 5 days in a row marathon output really took it out of me for a while. I haven't been doing much on Twitter or Facebook either, guess I'm just having a private couple of months. It's sometimes nice to get away from the chatter. And to keep from adding to it.

I've been doing what? Thinking, reading, gardening, pickling, writing songs, making lists, sewing patches. Went to the beach. Went to the South. Found a place to live part-time in Nashville so I can go to the South a lot more often. Went to the Barney's Warehouse Sale and braved the elbowing and shoving and trying things on in the aisles to get these perfect jeans for only $19.75 that I love and can NOT take off. Like seriously, I've worn them 5 days in a row now.

I started reading The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron. It's an absolute classic, always-recommended major work of the self-help cannon, so I can't believe I haven't ever read it. A lot of the concepts are in other books I have read, and I have been doing a kind of morning pages things for a while, but I can already see after a couple of days, that it's going to make a huge difference in my life. I'm discovering things about myself and working through them. See, it got me blogging after a two month absence! It's working already.

Pickle attempt #1

Day 5: California!!

We made it!! What else is there to really say? Just a little...

I could go on about the rest of Nevada and the exciting Agricultural Inspection Station at the border of California. Or the way we came down form the plateau, all those thousands of feet that we had slowly climbed over the long days in the Midwest, in 1 hour from Tahoe to Sacramento. But really the best part was driving up to Matt and Sara's house and witnessing Fenway's reunion with his family. 

As soon as he saw Sara (holding baby Patrick) out the window, he was barking and yowling and itching to get our of the car. I wonder if he thought he'd ever see her again. What does he understand about being left, living with new people, then living out of a car that keeps opening up to strange new places? That I can't say, but I know he was happy in that moment, and then all over again when he saw Maggie and then again when Matt came home. There has been so much barking and licking and tail wagging it's no wonder he's snoring away in his new living room right now. 

As for me, I feel a huge sense of relief and accomplishment. I drove all the way across the country. Not many people can say that. And I brought a dog back to his family. I feel like I should have my own pet reunification made-for-TV special or something. Cue the strings.

So far, Berkeley is really fun. We haven't done too much more than walk around and eat good food (including plums from the tree in the back yard) and look at all sorts of amazing plants that are blooming all around. And the sunset and then the panoramic night view of the city and bridges from a high lookout point. It's all beautiful and happy and I am already scared that I'll like it too much here. But you know what? I loved the Great Salt Flats, too. And if I can love and endless plain of salt, I think I can make it anywhere. 

Falling into place

I gotta say, I'm happy to be home. And by home, I do mean the Berkshires. If you read this blog, you know that's a big deal.

It's not just because of my own bed and kitchen and my love. It's because little chipmunks scamper across the trail when I go running. My garden really needs weeding and the compost needs to be turned. There is a nip in the air that is kind of exciting because I haven't felt a real Fall in 7 years. There are apples to be picked and sweaters to be knitted.

I'd gotten really good at not caring about all these things, maybe because they aren't my favorite things ever and maybe because I just couldn't have them in Texas. But now they are here and I've got them, so I'm going to enjoy this first Autumn as best I can.

Summer Hibernation?

Many musicians tour all summer and stay home in the winter writing and recording and storing up energy for the next busy Summer, but Summer is when I want to be home. When my garden is growing and producing flowers and food. When I want to cook dinner on the grill and have friends over for the evening or the weekend. When the sun comes up early and stays up til 9pm, so I don't mind sitting in my bright office working at 8am with coffee or 6pm with a Mojito. Summer is when the Berkshires are full of activity and people and events, so I can pedal my bike to the Guthrie Center and hear some folk music or take a picnic to Jacob's Pillow for a dance performance. This is when I get inspired to sit on the porch and practice my banjo or open all the windows and play beginner piano for all the neighborhood to hear. Summer is when I want to spread out an old blanket on the grass (well, clover) in the backyard and read a book. And if I fall asleep and don't wake up until Mr. Ding-a-ling comes by with his truck full of frozen treats, not to worry. That's what summer is for. Any given week in July, 20% of the country on is vacation anyway, so you usually get a break if you don't respond to email right away.

When I complain about winter, the dark, the cold, the stillness, most people tell me to embrace it. They say I should take the opportunity to rest, plan for the warm seasons, write music, read, take up skiing, knit, sleep. And that does sound really nice. I like all those things. But there is something chemical that happens to me, to lots of people, and it just feels sad to stay home. And I start to get a little crazy. I want to go the bed early, like at 7pm. And if I'm not in bed then, I might be whining and crying and generally freaking out. And most of the world is still out there working, so it doesn't really do to completely shut down for 4 months.

Years ago, when I was waiting tables in Maine, I learned that if I kept busy during those early evening hours, life was a lot better. I'd go to work around 4, just as the sun was setting and run around serving mussels and pinot noir until about 10. Before I had a chance to look up, I'd made it through the difficult part of the day and it actually was time to go to bed.

It's really unusual for me to have a whole month of no shows, but I'm right in the middle of that. It is kind of unsettling, I tend to forget who I am and what I do when I'm not performing for so long, but I am enjoying a gorgeous summer. And more importantly, I have the time to completely fill up my Fall and Winter calendar. I want as few off nights as possible in those cold dark months. I want to take trips to Florida, Texas and California and thumb my nose at Winter.

Seasons are nice. I like natural rhythms and all that. It's been such fun watching my garden grow and change, but I just can't do the winter hibernation thing. I'm a disaster in the dark and cold. I've got to keep moving, keep myself under those artificial stage lights, and trick my body into thinking it's the growing season. And then if I need to rest, I'll invest in a hammock for next summer.

Off to search for a list of winter festivals in the South.... I think I'll just do that with a Push-Up.

Home again

I made it home! It was a really great trip. And I really needed it.

At the beginning of the trip, folks would ask me how life is in Massachusetts and I would almost burst into tears as I admitted that it had been a really hard month. And then when I got to Austin and it was so warm and vibrant and cool stuff was happening everywhere and I had friends to see every night, I thought I might not actually never go back. But by the end of the trip I heard my language change, it was a little more positive and hopeful. When I talked about the Berkshires I would say, "Spring is coming" or "I still need to find my favorite coffeeshop." I distinctly remember the morning I woke up and thought, "I want to go home." It felt like such a relief. I always knew that I would go, now it wouldn't be kicking and screaming.

I saw so many friends and family members on this trip. Actually, I kind of overdosed on socializing. I used up every minute I had to see everyone I wanted to, sometimes having three or four social engagements a day. I'm not really that popular, it was really more like bingeing on your favorite food before going to have gastric bypass surgery. It seemed like now or never. But that is actually one of my favorite parts of this job, it's easy for me to visit everyone. Maybe if I could afford to stay in a nice hotel every night, I wouldn't see as much of the inside of my friends' guest rooms, but we'd still have drinks after the show or get breakfast the next day. (That reminds me, I nee to Yelp about the cinnamon toast at Patachou!)

So now I'm home, all happy and unpacked, but there is a new problem. Now I only want to do homey things, especially gardening. I got a blister from raking yesterday and every time I sit down at the computer to do some booking or publicity, I end up searching for heirloom tomato seeds or compost pile design or even new knitting patterns. I want to hang pictures and dust and vacuum and refinish this vintage sewing table and faded wing chair. I want to bake muffins and read books and watch movies. The thing is, if I don't book some shows, I really won't be going anywhere.

I'm guessing this is just a swing of the pendulum and I'll find my center again soon. But this summer, I'll be centered with a garden full of tomatoes. Maybe all my friends and family should come visit ME!

Austin's pleasures

I've been enjoying my home time. Really trying to write songs and be productive all day long. But there is laundry and Olympics and toenails to be painted... The artist's brain really does need some rest. And external inspiration. Here are some of my recent activities and fascinations.

Morning laps at Barton Springs. OK, so I'm caught up in the Michael Phelps riptide, but really swimming is awesome. I've been inconsistently free-stying it at the 68 degree pool in the mornings since I moved to town, but I had an extra kick in my stroke this week after watching the Olympics. Plus, I got new goggles, so I don't have red rings around my eyes for hours after my workout. I always felt that the coffee shop people were worried that I had been punched in the face.

Bruce Robison at Sholtz's Beer Garden just feels so Texas. A hot night under Oak trees and bare light bulbs strung up. We all sing along to Wrapped and people dance to EVERY song, and kids are running around or falling asleep on laps. I'm really looking forward to the new CD from Bruce coming next month!

I'm indulging a mild French fetish this month. I started taking an awesome beginning "Gay Ballet" class. It's for queer people, or just those who will admit that ballet is really gay. :) It's super fun and we wear crazy socks and laugh a lot actually really work on our technique, which is a very good butt workout. Also, I read French Women Don't Get Fat, which is full of generalizations and offensive stereotypes, but does paint a picture of a lovely way to eat, whether it's true or not. After a summer full of road food, I think I needed a little reminder about the importance of cooking and enjoying the flavors of fresh food. And wine. And chocolate. Mmmm. I've even been inspired to try to make my own yogurt. We'll see...


I love my little balcony. It's actually been cool enough to eat an early breakfast or late dinner outside, but I have to look at all my poor parched plants. I need a trip to Happiness, an awesome, arty, junky plant store, to get some succulents for my empty pots. And Whole Foods has locally grown herbs in pots 2/$5. A little gardening this week, I think!