Animals in Captivity… Chicago, Lincoln, Des Moines, Omaha (October 3, 2009)

It’s hard to believe this week I trekked over 2000 miles and played seven shows. Somewhere around Adel, Iowa my eyes focused and I realized my wheels have been spinning for over a year, eager to get on the road… and here I am.

There are a lot of bugs buzzing around inside. The mind is a wild beast. Right up until my departure I was working hard on Miles From Nowhere, recording it in August and then hand-making all of the cases and sending them around the country.

As I release these songs, singing them to audiences for the first time and therefore really seeing/hearing them for the first time, I’m having some serious post-partum depression. It’s beautiful and painful and uncomfortable and scary and often times nothing at all, like an endless horizon that you know you’ll be following your whole life. Or should I just be brave and say “my” whole life?

So far people are loving the new songs and I am so proud and grateful and excited for them, my little babies. It’s just hard to say goodbye sometimes. Up until now it’s been just us in our little world… now the world’s a little bigger. And I hope it continues to grow. That’s the whole point. I wouldn’t be a good mama if I kept them locked up inside all the time. But ouch.

On the subject worlds expanding – I took a trip to the Alder Planetarium while I was in Chicago. It was free admission day so I made a quick loop through the exhibits while I was on a walk by the water. The emphasis was on space exploration… not so much moon and stars… and the exhibits were geared towards kids – though try explaining this to little Sally:

So I skipped a lot, though there were some really interesting bits. My favorite thing was a newspaper from the day of the first walk on the moon, which highlighted reactions of people around the world. My heart clicked with this one:

“One Yugoslav teenager said wistfully: ‘ They have stolen the romance out of the moon and it will never be the same again. Now the moon is real, and lovers won’t have it for themselves alone any more.’”

Amen.

I also turned a year older. Though I stayed the same age on Venus. Thank you for all of your sweet notes!

Everyone at the Uncommon Ground gig (which was awesome – they sure know how to treat their musicians!) -

- suggested I go to the Aquarium, which also happened to have free admission. While I initially didn’t want to go see my friends in captivity I figured, as it’s right beside the planetarium, I should at least stop in and say hello. After all, I had already seen the moon in a glass pyramid.

Neat building outside, very, very sad inside. The first “display” I saw was ducks. Real, live ducks in a box behind glass with children banging their grubby little fingers and smooshing their snotty faces.

There were thousands of fish – an incredible “collection,” really – but for the same reason I won’t attend zoos, I kept wondering how this is legal in the 21st century. Not just legal, but so widely accepted and celebrated.

There was a turtle too big for its box and even an otter!

Maybe these creatures ended up at the aquarium because they were injured or something… but that’s no excuse, especially because most likely humans were the cause of their ill luck anyway. More animals in captivity:

Now I’m in Omaha – PS Collective tonight with Pastor Dane @ 9pm! It’s free! No chains attached. But first I’m off to see a man about a pedal…

Happy Saturday!

When the walls are closing in (July 13, 2009)

Tonight I found myself back in this familiar place. It’s the garbage chute where Princess Leia and the gang are hiding. And the walls are closing in.

As you focus on something it’s natural that your vision narrows. For me that thing is my music, generally, and my forthcoming record, specifically. I become so focused on my goal that the walls start closing in and soon there’s a lack of air. I feel uncomfortably close to death.

So I concentrate on my page because it seems more manageable than, say, a universe. Or getting chased by weird robot people (i.e negative thoughts).

However if you stare for a moment longer you’ll notice your peripheral vision kicks in and the thing you were so focused on becomes… everything. You see that you can’t separate life or death or a page or a tree or a song or a cry or anything. You can either sit there and take it all in or you can blink and go back to staring at your chosen object. For me, I haven’t cultivated the ability to absorb IT in all its entirety, so I have to nibble the bits that are accessible to me. Those are my songs. So I go back to staring at the page. Repeat, repeat, repeat….

The more creative I become, the closer I feel to death. Because creation is the process of watching something and then losing it into the greater picture. It includes life AND death. If I fully dedicate myself to creating something and then I release it, that feels really scary. But I want to approach my page from a place a joy rather than from a place of fear. I don’t think it’s strong enough to serve as a life raft if I’m drowning in trash.

I waste a lot of time being afraid. When the walls are closing in I can’t tell left from right or death from life, so I hold my breath, cling to my little page, and hope that the compactor will malfunction before I’m crushed like a tin can. But that’s no way to live. Or to die.

I don’t know why it’s so difficult to be present with what’s expansive, or why it seems more manageable – or desirable – to be small. This reminds me of “Our Deepest Fear” (pasted below). A friend I met on the road gave me a copy of this quote, and I revisit it often:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” – Marianne Williamson

She articulates this thought far better than I can at 2:30 on a Monday morning.

I’m not really a big Star Wars fan, so I don’t know how they got out of the garbage chute. I think it jammed or something… but the important thing is that they got out.

Whatever anxiety was keeping me awake has now been exhausted.

Thanks for being here. Goodnight.

Inspiration and the Creative Process (March 18, 2009)

I feel my power coming back. By power I mean “inspiration.” I don’t know if it’s the return of the sunshine or the exit of the flu or both or neither… I just feel really good today. Yesterday, too. March feels less lion and more lamb. Thank god. I couldn’t take the cold anymore. I’m feeling the eternal “yes.” (If you don’t know what I’m talking about you should watch the below clip – greatest movie of all time.)

… I started to write this blog 20 minutes ago and then my bowl of oatmeal was ready and in those 20 minutes I not only ate my bowl of oatmeal but I caught wind of a song and wrote it down in its entirety. There’s the eternal “yes” for you. I’ve never been a 9-5 songwriter – one who shows up to the table to consistently chip away at the marble. I go through my Hemingway phases, but I’m not a fan of “clocking in”… I don’t like to force it. Music is what I love, and it <span style=”font-style:italic;”>is</span> love, and you can’t force love. However I think I get away with never clocking in because I never clock out. I’m always tuned in – not like it’s a choice or anything. It’s not like the sun says, “I don’t feel like shining today.” Something’s always burning. Music is just the way I experience the world, and it is what allows me participate in the world: I think songs, I feel songs. I’m sure many of you can relate to that, whether it’s music or a sport or a person – one thing that you can see the whole universe in. Your portal to ______ – that which exists beyond words. Sometimes it’s torture, like love. It is labor – a labor of love. I think this clip best illustrates my creative process, and perhaps me, in general:

Somewhat tortured, distracted… in love and yet on another plane. Also, I’m kind of superstitious about the whole process. I don’t know if I’m superstitious or just cautious – I respect the mystery. I try to practice receiving, rather than just taking. And resting the soil, which is by far the most difficult for me. I had such a tremendous outpouring of creativity in late January that I got to a point where I was really empty. That can be a scary feeling if you don’t believe in yourself enough – if you don’t trust the earth beneath your feet. It should’ve been a joyful time, but I didn’t take the time to celebrate the harvest. If you just pile up your produce it’ll quickly turn slimey and moldy. You have to either eat it right away or make preserves – stash some in the root cellar, maybe. I was so hungry that I tried to work the land harder, rather than being grateful for what I had been given. I don’t approve of the way our culture has treated this planet, our home, and yet I caught myself doing the same thing. It can be hard to know when to stop if you become too attached to the process. And I was controlled by it – not sleeping, ink flowing constantly. Then for a couple weeks in February I was really depressed (okay, all of February), which turned into this cold-flu combo. It wasn’t until I accepted it that I started to move out of it. My good friend <a href=”www.myspace.com/laraherscovitch “>Lara Herscovitch</a> basically told me to just sleep and eat for a while – not to demand so much. There were weeks when basically all I did upon waking was shuffle over to the bathtub for a couple hours, sleep, eat, and lie down some more. And now here I am, finally coming around. The sight of a barren field can be unsettling to a young farmer, but I imagine the wiser ones trust the cycle and honor the deep restoration taking place underground, out of sight. Now I am rested and ready to enjoy these new songs and give them proper attention.

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Last night I played Banjo Jim’s “Off the Wagon” night with <a href=”http://www.myspace.com/ricksnyder”>Rick Snyder</a> and a whole bunch of great songwriters. I had a lot of fun playing my set and also catching up with <a href=”http://www.myspace.com/mattlenny”>Matt Lenny</a>, a serious guitar player. Listening to him play with <a href=”www.myspace.com/buckyhayes “>Bucky Hayes</a> I had the thought, “You never see someone that good without having to pay $100,” in which case I might owe Matt $100. Maybe he’d settle for a show plug – he’s playing tonight at <a href=”http://www.myspace.com/barfour”>Bar 4</a> at 10PM and you should definitely go check out his new songs. My fave right now is “Coming Home From the War.” Speaking of Matts – <a href=”http://www.myspace.com/mattjonesnyc “>Matt Jones</a> and I are playing this Friday – it’s my last show at Gizzi’s, where I’ve had a residency this winter, and my first show with the Blues Hawk! Woohoo! Or ca-caw? What sound does a hawk make? Come Friday and whoever does the best hawk call gets a free CD. And speaking of hawks makes me think of <a href=”http://www.myspace.com/theblackcrowes”>The Black Crowes</a> – I heard a recording of a new song yesterday about “love doesn’t live behind your eyes” or something like that – <span style=”font-style:italic;”>it blew me away</span>. I don’t think it’s coming out until this summer – does anyone know what I’m talking about? The performance was tremendous – really raw with some killer violin. Nice. Final words on inspiration: Life is short and we all want to be happy. What we love makes us happy. What we love inspires us. Find what you love and don’t look back.