Hi!!!!!!!
I'm so excited for my European tour, so all those exclamation points are warranted. I'm running around packing and getting everything ready. This message is just to make sure that I'm all set up to post blogs from my phone. Now I have to figure our how to get pictures in here. Maybe Facebook. I don't know. Better check my packing priorities and see what I have time for.
!!!!!!!!!! Just for good measure.
I'm trying to live as though traveling to New York or Boston for one night is no big deal. It's hard to suck it up and drive or sit on the train for hours just to see a show, but I know in the long run it's good for me. I need to stay connected to that city energy and see great live music. So last night I trekked to Boston for the Ten Out of Tenn show at Cafe 939 at Berkelee College. It's ten Nashville based songwriters touring together on Willie Nelson's old bus.
I only knew the music of a couple of the artists and I had heard of a couple of the others, but at least 6 of the artists were new to me, and I didn't know what to expect from the night. Especially since I don't generally consider myself a big fan of 'indie-pop." But about 3 songs in to the show, I remembered that every time I go out the see music in Nashville, even if it's a friend of a friend who's music is in some style I don't think I like, I'm always impressed. The level of musicianship and writing is just so great in that town, just about everything sounds good.
What I thought was going to be a loose jam by a bunch of songwriters was actually a tightly arranged band with a rotating cast of musicians held together by the solid drumming of Will Sayles. Each of the "ten" took a couple of turns at the center mic, leading the band in their songs, but then they'd scoot over to a keyboard or trade off guitar for bass and sing some harmonies. The sound was surprisingly consistent, even though each songwriter's personality came through clearly. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and the whole show had an after-school-special/Fat Albert kind of feel to it. Only these hopeful kids can really play, and from the looks of their bios and the slick TOT website, they know how to manage their own careers, too. I bought "the bundle" that included one of each of their CDs, plus the latest TOT compilation, which was only $50.
Sarah Siskind and Ashley Monroe were probably my favorites, probably because they were the more Americana part of the show and they both have such interesting voices. Madi Diaz was a Berkelee grad with lots of fans in the crowd and I really liked her, too. I wouldn't be surprised if one of her songs becomes a Fiest-y kind of indie hit. I didn't love Jedd Hughes' songs at the show, mostly because they were so loud and I couldn't hear the lyrics, but his EP is great and I'm sure I'll play it lots and try to see him again.
So worth the drive to Boston. And I was home by 1:30am. No big deal, that's how I roll.
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.
I'm snuggled into a lavender bed at The Ginn Parents' house in rural Texas after a super-relaxing Labor Day Weekend. I've been in Austin for a couple days, then I was camping and singing and catching up with friends at the Kerrville Wine and Music Festival. And I'm happy to be in Texas, to be hot, to eat BBQ and drink Shiner Bock and be lazy in a hammock under Live Oak trees, to know my way around and to run into people I know when I'm not even trying to.
But it's not as hard as it was last time. Last time, it was so good and so different from my new life, that it made me sad to be so happy and content when I came back to visit. Now I'm much more relaxed. Maybe because I haven't lost touch with people (thanks Facebook!). My favorite places are still here, and I know I'm going to be back in a couple months. So I can just enjoy this place for what it is, instead of what the rest of my life isn't.
Derek Sivers is a very cool guy with lots of good ideas about all sorts of things. I met him as the creator of the awesome online music store CDBaby. In his blog last week, he asked the question "What do you hate not doing?" as a way to figure out what you really love. You know I love self-help and quizes, so here are a few things I hate not doing. I'm not sure I like the idea of writing a whole blog about hate, but here goes.
I hate not performing.
Not only because I feel terribly off when I do come back to it, but because I miss connecting with people through music. I miss the challenge of choosing the right songs for the situation and hitting the right emotional tone with each performance. I miss working out my lungs and vocal chords and calluses. And I miss the attention. Can't deny that. :)
I hate not writing.
I hate that I let days, weeks, even months go by without cracking open my journal. That's the place where I let it fly without a filter and it really calms me down and gets me focused. I also hate not writing songs. Songwriting is when I take all my crazy ideas and experiences and shape them into a neat little package and summarize all my feelings about something. Sometimes it's closure, sometimes it's a manifesto. Either way, I feel more settled when a song is finished, and excited to get out there and play it for people. I hate not having a new song to share.
I hate not having balance in my social vs. alone time.
Spending says on end with people, even people I love, even when I'm having a great time, leaves me feeling so scattered. I'm very influenced by others' desires and opinions, so I tend to lose center and follow the crowd when I don't get time alone. On the other hand, I hate being alone too much. I get into boring patterns and I do stupid things like watch hours of TV or play video games when I've got too much time alone. I like having other people around me to bring up new ideas, hold me accountable and be a witness, so I won't eat the whole carton of ice cream. Lately I've been having long spates of alone time, followed by intense visits. Whew! I need balance. I'm such a Libra.
I hate staying in the same place for too long.
Even if it's just walking down a different side street. I need new sights and smells and sounds coming at me. I think I travel enough for this not to be much of a problem. :)
I hate not exercising and eating right.
Because when I do, I feel better. When I don't I feel sluggish and guilty. Hate isn't too strong a word for that feeling.
I hate not asking questions.
I'm a curious person and I wonder about a lot of different things. Sometimes I don't like this about myself, because before I have time to really delve into something, I invariably get curious about something new. But I love the beginnings of projects. I love going to a new town and learning it's history, it's local hangouts. Everything is interesting for a little while. And I hate when I'm doing the same old same old over and over again and not exploring some new business idea or region of the country.
Allright, now what did this little exercise teach me? The best lesson is that all the things I hate not doing are things I mostly get to do all the time! That's good. And when I'm not doing them it's usually because I'm being scared or lazy. So the next time I don't want to go for a run or spend an hour on booking or introduce myself to a new friend, I'm going to think "You'll hate it if you don't do this!" Maybe that will get me going.
Now I want to know what you hate not doing. Maybe this is the next "50 things"....
It's a week after Falcon Ridge and life is almost back to my normal routine, if I even have such a thing. But in sitting down to write this blog, looking back at my notes and pics and tweets, I'm so happy remembering what a great time I had. Ahhh. Reminisce with me for a few minutes...
How could I not mention the mud? Unfortunately, it keeps raining in the Berkshires and the weekend of FRFF was no exception. I'm lucky enough to live only about 25 minutes from the festival site, so I got to get a warm shower and dry bed every night, but it was still a bummer to see the rain drive people into their tents and cars when great acts were playing and a few even had to be cancelled or rescheduled. Of course, mud boots were all the rage for women and men. Mom came to the fest with me and she tried to go without rubber boots, but by day two was heading to Agway for a pair. 
I was doubly lucky because it never rained during any of my sets. It was beautifully sunny and breezy on Saturday afternoon when I was on the main stage for the Most Wanted Song Swap. So breezy, in fact, that my hair kept blowing into my mouth. It was annoying and I kept wondering why none of the other four women on stage seemed to be having unruly hair issues. Headband, bangs, barrettes and hat, that's why. Lesson learned and no more wild hair in the mouth for outdoor shows.
The next day was forecasted to be stormy, so I was nervous about my sets being cancelled. Thick clouds and a cold wind were blowing when I started a song swap with John Flynn, Ellis Paul, Tracy Grammar, Joe Henry, and Lucy Wainright Roche (hello!), but we played anyway. It got around to the last song of the hour and I played "My Miner" with everyone jamming along. It was a musically transcendent moment for me with the volume and intensity rising as I sang "Let me be your light, Let me be your light" over and over. And then the clouds broke and the first bright sunlight of the day shone down on us, just like we were calling for it. I don't know if that moment was as sublime to anyone else, but I think it might have been my favorite moment of performance so far in my life. Ahhh. Maybe there is a video. Maybe I don't want to see it, I just want to remember it with all it's fuzzy edges in my mind. 
Festivals are so great for seeing lots of friends, hearing bands live that you've only heard about, and unfortunately they are also great for running into people who you should know, but can't remember their name. Oi! I am terrible at remembering people and I realize that I don't even try. It's a bad habit. And I met so many awesome new people this weekend, who I've probably already forgotten. It doesn't make up for it, but I don't expect people to remember me either. I like being at festivals and conferences where most people are wearing name tags. Name tags are great, especially when they also say where you work and what city you live in. If only we could figure out a way to make them remind us of when we met and who we know in common. I think I was the only one wearing a name tag at my five-year high school reunion. Everyone scoffed at the thought that we could forget each other after only 5 years, but I knew I had forgotten people's names and I was trying to start a trend. Never was much of a trendsetter in high school. Well, there was that wrap skirt pattern and the knitting club, but other than that....
OK. One more happy story. Last year, lots of folks were really disappointed that the tornado that hit the fest prevented Gandolf Murphy and the Slambovian Circus of Dreams from performing. I've been hearing about them for a couple of years from every direction, so I was excited to hear them for myself. I have to say, they didn't blow me away. I think they are a really fun rock band, and the way they get their fans lathered into a frenzy makes for an exhilarating concert, but I guess it's just not my thing. Still, even I was getting really nervous as they took the stage on Saturday evening and the clouds were moving in. It would be too sad if their set was rained out again, leaving the fans wet and hungry for their music. They made it through a great, high-energy batch of songs and came to the encore as the sky was getting darker and more ominous. The lead singer shouted, "Get out your umbrellas, cause we're gonna play another song!" As they rocked out "Trans-Slambovian Bi-Polar Express" a parade of umbrellas formed all rainbow and flowered and polka-dotted, spinning and bouncing and snaking through the crowd. I had to join in. And it didn't rain one drop.
Here's a video of them playing the song a couple nights earlier in the dance tent:
OK. I've written too much already. But I also got dizzy spinning in a contra-dance while Blue Moose and The Unbuttoned Zippers played. And don't miss Dressing Room Tour, Part 3 with special guest Randall Williams, OK. That's enough. It was so fun! Can't wait for my next festival.... Move the Muse in Brockton Mass August 22!
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.
