Let it out

Biscuit

2007-11-13T19:12:00.000-08:00

I found out at the allergist today that the reason I have been having asthma issues and severe
allergies is because I have developed a severe allergy to my cat
Biscuit. I need to find Biscuit a new, safe, happy home so that I can
breathe normally again. I am devastated to have to say goodbye to this
kitty. We have spent 4 years together and he has been such a wonderful
companion. I am praying that one of you may be interested in welcoming
Biscuit into your home, or may know someone who is.

Let me tell you why Biscuit is a wonderful cat:

1) He never scratches furniture
2) He always uses his litter box
3) He has hardly ever thrown up or coughed up hairballs
4) He is funny
5) He is weird and unique
6) He likes to cuddle and knead bread on you
7) He follows you around more when you are sad
8) He has a cute little meow
9) He does what he is told!

Some things to know about him are that he is about 4 and a half years
old, he is neutered, and is up to date with shots. He has been both an
outside and indoor cat, and loves being outside. He has never been
around dogs, and tends to be skiddish around other cats, but sometimes
he has become friendly and curious with other cats. It just takes him
some time. Biscuit gets scared of the wind and vacuums and tends to
jump at loud noises. He likes to drink water from a little trickle out
of the bathtub.

If anyone is interested in bringing Biscuit into their life, please
contact me as soon as you can. And, if you could please pass the word on, I would be so grateful. Thank you so much :)

It's Over

2007-11-12T19:43:00.000-08:00

On my way back home

I turned off the radio

The leaves are late this year

They need to let go

I remember every roadside cross

Before it appears

They are nameless

Who remembers?

But I’m not gonna spin out this time

I’m not gonna spin out this time

Because this struggle is over

It’s over

Though I’m skirting the shoulder

The wheel is steady, the city, is on the horizon

I’ve got my headlights on

In the middle of the day

The bulging clouds

Swirl over the highway

And the sky opens up like a big sigh

It’s pretty

And the leaves come tumbling down

All around me

But I’m not gonna spin out this time

I’m not gonna spin out this time

Because this struggle is over

It’s over

Though I’m skirting the shoulder

The wheel is steady, I’m ready, to go home.

This Friday

2007-11-12T19:22:00.000-08:00

It happened. My goal and dream. I am playing with a full band on Friday (11/16) for the first time in years (Pete Sheehan, Jonathan Cohen and Frank Moscowitz). I am beyond excited and so grateful. If you would like to feel my joy, come down to Red Square this Friday night at 9 PM. I will hug you :) Oh, and these awesome guys and this awesome group are playing too. It will be well worth the trip!

Down for the Count

2007-09-12T07:35:00.000-07:00

I have been sick now for about a week and a half. Sickness is strange. It forces you to stop your life. Just cease your routine and lay, and sit, and lay and think. I have not "stopped" my life in quite a while. I think it was time.

I have been thinking about many things these last 10 days. And reading Sark's Succulent Wild Woman (Thanks Renee!) has been a nice catalyst as I lay on my back and doze about where I have come from, and where I am going.

Dreams

I have been thinking a lot about my dreams. Do I have any anymore? Have I achieved them? What is left unfulfilled in my life? When I was younger my dreams were very strong. To live a rich, daring, fulfilling creative life. And in some ways I have achieved this dream. I have performed and written a wealth of music, and become an adequate improviser on stage. I have been recording since January, and feel creatively fulfilled often.

But since I can remember, I have felt the need to struggle, to push, to work harder, to achieve more, to make more of myself. That having a dream meant you were always struggling to get there.

Lately, I have felt little to no desire to push, struggle, or jump. What does this mean? Does this mean I have given up on my dreams? Or, does it mean I am happy, and I have never known what that has really felt like before?

Every year or so I make a list of all of the things that I wish to do before I die. This year, my list seemed much shorter? And included things that seemed quite attainable (gallop on a horse, learn how to take beautiful photos, surf on a surfboard). I think that my goals and dreams have shifted with my age, and this is a new and strange phenomenon. I no longer want to be a career musician. I no longer want to travel the world alone in search of adventure and art. I want to live the life I am living, and that is amazing to me.

I feel good about my job, and enjoy it more often than not. I feel like my work makes a contribution to my community and that is what I have always hoped for.

I am in love with a good man that I can trust and depend on, and that makes me unbelievably happy.

I have creative projects that fulfill me and make me happy.

I have friends that I love and am inspired by.

I have good relationships with my family, and feel like they are getting better all of the time.

I am secure, stable, but open.

I am older now. I am 30 and am kind of relishing the perspective that I have.

One More

After all of this musing on my couch and bed, I have come up with one dream, one dream that I have just not yet ever been able to fulfill. I am going to state it now, because I think the more we voice our dreams, the more likely they are to come true.

I want to put together a band with musicians that all get along and collaborate creatively and energetically. I want to be able to perform with this band all of the work I am recording right now. I want to believe I can make this happen, and then make it happen. I will make it happen.

Do you have any dreams? Have you given up on yours? Do remember what it/they was/were? I hope so.

Can you speak a little louder please?

2007-08-28T18:56:00.001-07:00

Voice:

My voice has been a source of embarrassment and pride for most of my life. It has been an interesting paradox that most people who have seen me perform do not quite understand. Let me explain:

My pride: My singing voice.

My embarrassment: My speaking voice.

Whenever someone comes to see me sing, they are sometimes taken aback if they come to talk to me afterwards. "That big voice came out of your little tiny voice? How is that possible?" I never know what to say. Why is my speaking voice and my singing voice so different?

Ever since I was about 8, I was chided by adults and peers to stop talking in a "baby" voice. Sometimes I would cry. "I don't know how!" i might exclaim. How do I change my voice? How do I do that? I would try fake ways of altering the tone of my voice and then get so exasperated and confused. Why couldn't people like me for who I was, how I spoke?

At camp one summer in AZ, my counselor (18 year old Holly) told me (11) to stop talking like a baby. She told everyone in my cabin that if I talked like a baby to stop talking to me. I was terrified. It was so much pressure. Not only was I extremely embarrassed and self-conscious, I was immediately disliked by the rest of my cabin-mates. I was an outcast, and I was ashamed. I spoke very little the entire week and would often cry and try to hide my tears to no avail. It was awful.

Many similar incidents have happened as I have aged, again I would try to "change" my voice, but couldn't seem to do it. I have had more than one boyfriend tell me that my voice is displeasing to them. I have never known how to "fix" this problem. Lately, the worst thing for me is hearing myself on an answering machine. I think, "who the fuck is that? That can't be my high-pitched tiny voice with no backbone?" It is shocking to me. And embarrassing, but yet, I have no solution.

Where does one's voice come from? Is it something that you can manipulate? Why do I feel safer behind a microphone? Did I become a singer to find a "new" voice that I could be proud of? One that transformed all of my shame? I often have the feeling that when I speak, I am holding back, that there is this tourniquet around my throat, and I am slave to it. In improv I have been working on my volume, but so far to no avail. At work, I am often told to speak up because people can't hear me when I am giving a presentation. How is this possible? I am a performer for god's sake, why can't I just open up, and let it out, be comfortable with VOLUME and Resonance?

I like being on stage. I like singing with my eyes closed like I am someone completely different, someone with a voice steady, sure, strong. I like being that person. I like it a lot.

An aside note:

It is refreshing when blogging to be yourself. To expose what is real. To really express what you experience. That is what I enjoy most. Honest stories that I can identify with. Three cheers for truth and revelation.

New do!

2007-08-14T19:39:00.000-07:00

I love it! Thanks Renee for the heads up on Bill :-)

The Kindness of Strangers

2007-08-08T08:31:00.001-07:00

I had a frightening event this past Friday. I have wanted to write about it, but the further away from it I get, the less real it seems.

I have been driving to Binghamton almost every other weekend since Brian and I have started dating. The drive is along I-88, a beautiful stretch of NY countryside with a smattering of small towns, and a 65 mph speed limit. I often drive straight from work, and the drive takes about 2 and a half hours. It is peaceful, and I enjoy listening to books on tape as I go, or writing songs by singing them aloud and trying to write down lyrics on the steering wheel, or just sitting in the quiet, having a moment to think clearly.

Last Friday I was driving down to see Brian perform. I was originally going to surprise him, but if any of you know me, I am terrible with surprises and told him I was coming. I was driving in the left lane about 30 minutes down on 88 with a large 18 wheeler truck a little ahead of me in the right lane. Behind him was a sedan. We were all going about 70 miles an hour. Suddenly the car jerked out in front of me and ran me off of the road. I jerked the wheel back to try and get back on the highway, but jerked too far. My car started to spin uncontrollably.

As I entered into that first spin, not knowing if anyone was going to be behind me, I seriously considered the possibility that I was about to die. Someone traveling at 70 mph could have easily crushed us both. Time slowed down, and I became very calm. It was strange. You always hear accounts of those who have had near death experiences in terms of time slowing down, or everything becoming clear, or their life flashing before their eyes. I guess these things were pretty much true for me. I was prepared as the car turned towards oncoming traffic to see another vehicle smashing into me, and my body became ready for the impact. Why was I so calm? Relaxed? How is that possible? When I faced the oncoming traffic, cars were very far away.

I was relieved, but I could not stop spinning. Each time I spun, the cars became closer to me, and I was concerned I would hurt other people, kill or maim other people because my car was out of control. I finally swerved the car onto the shoulder and sat there. Suddenly, my body started shaking uncontrollably as if I was having a seizure. My calmness disappeared and I was hysterical.

A van pulled off of the road in front of me. A man about 40 stepped out and walked towards my car. I slowly got out of my seat, realized I was barefoot on the gravel. He asked me if I was ok, was there anything he could do for me, that he saw what happened and I must be terrified. He looked at my car, said my wheels were new and may have saved my life. I saw 3 children peering at me from the back window of his van. I was shaking and crying, and he reached out again to see if he could do anything for me. And then he said, “You look like you need a hug. Can I give you a hug?” And he gave me one. And it was magical. A hug from a stranger draped with real care and concern. He drove away, and I sat back in my car.

And then, all I could think about was how incredibly lucky I was. How extremely lucky I was. I didn’t have a scratch on me, no one was hurt, my car was fine, and I was able to drive to Binghamton and see Brian’s show. I felt so grateful that in that moment, that I forgave the person in the car who cut me off, who did not stop when they saw and heard the unbearable screeching of my wheels as I spun.

I am frightened often by how cavalier we are with our vehicles. They are weapons, they are dangerous. Driving is a serious activity that takes innumerable lives. I call out to any readers, please, understand that that extra 3 seconds you may get from cutting someone off to get to your destination is just not worth it. Relax, life is too short.

Flower Cart

2007-07-31T07:27:00.000-07:00

A hand on your heart
You stopped by the flower cart
No one needs to try
No one needs to

A walk in the snow
You smile
Snowflakes on your brow
And my belly's round

Squeeze my hand tight
And we cross the street
You kiss me
You kiss me again

A hand on your heart
You stopped by the flower cart
No one needs to try
No one needs to

"We" have culture AND My brain has lift-off!

2007-07-08T17:28:00.000-07:00

I just recently watched Bittersweet Motel, a documentary about the band Phish. I have to say, I am completely unmoved by this band. I think it has to do with my dislike of Trey's guitar tone, and the oft off-pitch vocals that distract me and render me unable to feel anything but discomfort. Many would assume that I am incomprehensibly stupid, how can I not love this band? So many do... but just not me.

In the movie, though, there were many interesting beautiful moments. Once section has stuck with me for days now. There is a moment when Trey is speaking fervently into the camera about his band and says something like, no one wants to admit it, but white suburban America has a voice and a heartbeat, and get of the way and get ready to hear it.

It has been my belief for so long that white suburban America has no culture. That it is rampant with vapid youth that are predictable, spoiled, and short-sighted. That our attempts (I say OUR because I am one of these once upon a time youth) at art, music, political thought, etc. are all reactionary, impatient, and trite. These statements are too strong, emotional, general, and reactionary, but I often feel this way. Innately, I am talking about myself. I am talking about the culture that is me. That grew up in shopping malls with the stores with the rock t-shirts that you bought for pieces of identity in them, with no fear and no responsibility.

I think I am trying to reconcile the fact, in a positive and realistic way, that white surburbia does indeed have a voice, a heartbeat, and an ability to affect others in powerful ways. Why has this been so hard for me to believe? We are all human, regardless of where or with whom we live. We are all laden with different and separate abilities. And we are all miracles.

Maybe it would help to give some sort of example that brings on this onslaught of thinking. What is hard for me is when, like this week, I am at a party and realize that I have the same outfit as someone else, and that they are both from Target. That yes, for the most part, each of our wardrobe pieces have come from Old Navy, Target, and the Gap. That our outsides are constructed and defined by the same entities, even though we are very different people, and we are all very comfortable with this (and I won't even get started in this entry about where and how these clothes are made in second and third world countries, and how that feels, and how often that makes us feel nothing).

I spoke to a young woman who was frustrated that there was not a good Target in NYC where she lives. This comment baffled and surprised me. Why do "we" value Target more than diverse privately owned clothing shops in large cities? (I say "we" often because who the hell do I know is like this? I am talking about a collective we, including myself and others that I do not know). We spend our money in strange ways. But this is who "we" are.

BUT, we take our old navy sweatshirts, and possibly our aching souls, and pound on guitars and drums and try to find something raw and real and good. And we often do.

How do I ,"we" , begin to accept my/our reality? I want to. I want to see the beauty in everything. I want to find the beauty in white suburbia. Maybe part of the beauty is that we are cloistered in a predictable mass, so we are propelled into art, music, writing, to heal ourselves of the abundance, the guilt, the sterileness? I know my words may sound harsh. But I really want to find the beauty in my childhood, my adolescence, and my early adulthood. I have a culture, and I can no longer deny this fact. I need to embrace it.

It's strange. I wrote this in a fury on a piece of paper at a bar after a long drive and it has sat in my purse over the weekend. It is interesting to transcribe thoughts that were once furiously written down while gulping a beer and spilling bites of salad on paper. I don't feel that these words necessarily capture the dialog that I am trying to impart to you. But I also feel that that just does not matter. What matters is that I, "we", keep thinking, writing, creating, and learning. That we keep trying to understand, and then contribute to, our communities, our countries, and our world the best we know how. Trey does. I will try to too.

Follow Your Bliss

2007-06-20T19:51:00.000-07:00

There are lots of pieces coming together that are singing a new song to me.

I just finished listening to the Bill Moyers 6 series set of conversations with Joseph Campbell about the Power of Myth.

I just finished watching a documentary called Danielson Family Movie or Make a Joyful Noise Here

I am in love with a new man that I think helps me to be a better, nicer, kinder person.

I am turned towards new thoughts about religion, spirituality and myself.

I am following my bliss.

I have never been this happy

Or this calm.

I don't quite know how to describe how I feel. I almost feel that all of the good fortune and bliss I have experienced in the last 6 months is a sort of religious experience. A spiritual experience. I emerged from a dark time as an individual transformed and able to experience great joy. What a thing, to be open and willing to let joy in. Seeing the Danielson movie made me feel positive about the Christian faith. Jesus had some good ideas. I wish the ideas sometimes could stand on their own without years of ugly history to discolor their beauty and foresight. Religion is a dirty word to some. It is a violent way of life for others. I want to be spiritual and give to others in a way that makes sense to me. I do believe that when I sang on Monday with all of those people that I loved in one room that it wasn't me. It was something else. I became nervous and ashamed of some of the lyrics of my songs, and there was a moment when I let go and gave myself to those in the room because I couldn't accept that what I was doing was for me. I let go and let God I guess you could say. Why does God feel like a dirty word when I write it?

I feel like more and more lately I am letting go and letting God. I am smiling more, I think about others needs more than mine much more than I ever have, I am more comfortable with living in the world. I feel calm and strong and able to handle difficult things. This may be age you say, but I don't know. Have I found my groove? My track to ride on? All of these years searching and struggling, have I finally found something that fits right, and that's why it feels so easy? And what is this "it" that i have found? What is it really? Of course you could say that it is a combination of things, timing, coincidence, the upswing from a downswing, luck. But it somehow feels different because - it is not going away, and I feel like this feeling inside of me is somehow growing stronger. I want to give love and kindness. I want to be patient. I want to give to my community.

As I read these last lines it occurs to me that not so long ago I would feel embarrassed and ashamed of them. That somehow I am trying to convince the world that I really am a good person and I really do wish to be so. But now, I honestly don't care. I am not afraid of what you think of me or my ideas. Because I know that you have so much of your own that you are trying to work out yourself. We are all in this together. We are all doing the best we can. And I know that you have much more important and meaningful things to think about than what I do or say. Why are we so often paralyzed by this? Let go and let God I guess, that would help a lot. I think I like Let go and Let Good even better :)

As I read over what I have written, I lose my confidence. Maybe all of this will go away. Maybe it is very temporary and I am too confident in its presence. But then, again, I let go. I don't care. I know that I am following my bliss, and that until I die, I will continue to do so to the best of my ability. I hope that you are able to follow your bliss too. I believe in your ability to do so. And I believe in good in general. I hope you do too.

Tattoo

2007-03-21T07:42:00.000-07:00

The directions said it would only last 7-12 days.
It was much darker in the morning.
I still think it’s pretty.

I won’t forget the feeling
Of struggling to drag my vacuum through the snow
And the garbage truck
Parked right next to my car
Empty cereal boxes, beer cans, and diapers
Straddling the path to the door
And I felt small
And dirty
But looked at how hard those men were working.
So I hoisted the appliance with grace
Into the back seat.

I came home last night
Tired, so happy to remove my high heels
And was surprisingly shocked
When I saw it there.
7-12 days.
I have at least,
6 more.

The Dream Away Lodge

2007-03-18T13:08:00.000-07:00

I had such a special night performing last night at the Dream Away Lodge with Sean Rowe. But by far the best part of the night was when the 2 big dogs at the lodge kept coming up to me while I was singing and chilling up front :)

Yes!

2007-03-18T09:08:00.000-07:00

I am now officially a company member of the Mop and Bucket Company! How excited am I!!!! These individuals are so talented and open and professional. I feel so honored to be among them. Come and see a show sometime :) You won't regret it!

Need to say it

2007-03-13T03:41:00.000-07:00

This is like
Those moments
When the turnstile clicks
In your stomach
And you know
That there are "forces"
And real peace
And dreams
You can believe in.

I would never have recognized you.

Gypsy Love

2007-02-24T07:11:00.000-08:00

This song keeps coming to me. It is sad but beautiful. I want so much for lovers to keep loving. I am trying hard to accept and appreciate the beauty of fleeting and temporary love. It is so much of the love I have been experiencing as of late. This song encapsulates that moment when you know that you must part with someone that you have held very dear, but there is this last moment of intimacy and it is just intensely bittersweet. I want to be more comfortable with fleeting love. Just like the seasons. A love that warms you in the springtime and summer, but leaves you sort of empty and cold in the winter. Finding the beauty and function in that starkness. And actually believing in it, not tricking yourself to find the meaning and good in it.

Gypsy by Suzanne Vega

You come from far away
With pictures in your eyes
Of coffeeshops and morning streets
In the blue and silent sunrise
But night is the cathedral
Where we recognized the sign
We strangers know each other now
As part of the whole design

Oh, hold me like a baby
That will not fall asleep
Curl me up inside you
And let me hear you through the heat...

You are the jester of this courtyard
With a smile like a girl's
Distracted by the women
With the dimples and the curls
By the pretty and the mischievous
By the timid and the blessed
By the blowing skirts of ladies
Who promise to gather you to their breast

Oh, hold me like a baby
That will not fall asleep
Curl me up inside you
And let me hear you through the heat...

You have hands of raining water
And that earring in your ear
The wisdom on your face
Denies the number of your years
With the fingers of the potter
And the laughing tale of the fool
The arranger of disorder
With your strange and simple rules
Yes now I've met me another spinner
Of strange and gauzy threads
With a long and slender body
And a bump upon the head

Oh, hold me like a baby
That will not fall asleep
Curl me up inside you
And let me hear you through the heat...

With a long and slender body
And the sweetest softest hands
And we'll blow away forever soon
And go on to different lands
And please do not ever look for me
But with me you will stay
And you will hear yourself in song
Blowing by one day

Oh, hold me like a baby
That will not fall asleep
Curl me up inside you
And let me hear you through the heat...

The Value of Song

2007-02-22T13:08:00.000-08:00

I am currently doing The Artist's Way by Julie Cameron. I have barely started, but already I feel like I am learning so much about what has been holding me back creatively for many years.

I have felt sometimes that creating music and writing songs can be a self-absorbed practice. That it is merely a reflection of your life and experiences, and a chance for you to dump on others all of your confusion and heartache and joy when you perform them. That it is a selfish luxury and a conceited endeavor. These thoughts are so negative, and may sound irrational, but they have nevertheless floated around in my head for years.

I have not yet been able to let myself just be a songwriter and singer without trying to reprimand myself for having the desire to be that. I wonder, what is the inherent value in the songs I write, and ultimately, does there have to be any?

As I am recording this new album, and listening to my ipod a lot at work lately, I am feeling moved by music in a way that I have not been in a while. I am starting to feel again like music is important... Music awakens in me my humanity, my vulnerability, my grace, my compassion. I think that what has been difficult for me is finding a bridge that links what other's music does for me, to what my music does for myself and others. And does it necessarily have to "do" anything to be valuable?

I have been talking with many people lately that believe that any creative work is a kind of gift from our spiritual creator/being, whoever or whatever that means to you. In some ways this thought is comforting, and in some ways it is terrifying. Did "God" just give me a song? If so, how do I honor that gift in the most humble way possible? Or, wow. I don't have to associate all of my issues about ego, and self-absorption with this new creative piece because I did not even write it. I am merely a vessle. So now I can just let it flow through me, and I can let it flow to others.

I know for certain that I absolutely love writing and singing songs. I will always do this, but I am hoping that as I am approaching 30, I will soon be able to let go of a lot of negative and useless baggage I have about creating.

In the artist's way, Cameron talks about creative champions and monsters. Those people who either supported and encouraged your creative efforts, and those who tried to squash them. Sometimes you just don't realize you are being squashed, and it takes even more perception and effort to let go of those messages and fears that emerged from the squashing.

Again, Jackson Browne, but I was working on a report at my desk, and Fountain of Sorrow came on my ipod. I really listened to the words for the first time in a long time. This song just encapsulated so much of what I have been feeling for a long time. I was almost moved to tears in my cubicle. Music is important. Any and all. And the music we ourselves create falls into this category, no matter how much we resist placing it there.

I would love to hear any thoughts any of you might have about this stuff.

Snow Day

2007-02-14T10:14:00.000-08:00

Wow. We are having an incredible snowstorm. I stayed home from work and I am so happy that I did. It is beautiful outside of my windows. Biscuit keeps running to each one in amazement, fear, and excitement.

My horoscope said that this Valentine's day was going to be the best ever. I found that hard to believe considering I don't have a boyfriend. But, as I sit here, drinking tea and eating homemade muffins, listening to Harry Potter on tape, and cuddling with my cat as i stare out the window, my belief in astrology is getting bolstered. It is an exceptional day. I feel lucky and happy.

February

2007-02-08T14:56:00.000-08:00

Painting found here.

Updates

2007-01-28T07:25:00.000-08:00

So much happening.

First of all, Gabriel is gone. I was unfortunately allergic to him, and Biscuit never came out from under the bed. The third time is the charm I guess. Biscuit is a one man band. The king of the castle. After Gabriel was gone he was running around the apt like a crazy person. And then being Sir Rub a Lot on my legs. I love him :)

The album is coming together so nicely. Troy and I have been working hard and have almost finished all of the arrangements for the songs. The one below is new, and I love it so, and it is going to be included :) I am having the amazing good fortune of working with some top notch musicians on this album that are professional and wise. I feel really lucky. I hope to release the album in late spring or early Summer. Also, the woman who designed my last cd cover emailed me out of the blue and is on board to do this project, and also to design a new website for me! I am excited to get a website up and running again. For those of you that don't know, my old website (www.katiehaverly.com) had its domain name stolen out from under me the day it expired, and this amorphous conglomerate or business or something wanted me to pay an astronomical sum to get it back. What assholes. So, I will most likely have a different domain name...

My friend Hans and I have had the amazing fortune of being asked to rehearse with the Mop and Bucket Company here in Albany. We will play with them for about 6 weeks and see if we gel with them as a group. If so, then we will hopefully be asked to join the group, and we will get to to improv professionally! I love playing with all of the people in this group. At the last callback, I laughed to hard my throat hurt when I came home. Again, I am one lucky bastard.

My very good friend Renee is starting a cooking show that Hans and I will be starring in with her. We have been doing a lot of planning and I am so excited about this project. Renee has an awesome blog here that I think a lot of you would enjoy. Her mission is to empower others to cook healthy tasty food, and to have fun doing it! Will keep you posted on the details of the show.

The winter has lately been biting. It has been tough. It is hard sometimes to not be emotionally affected by the physical weather. I am trying, though. These projects make my heart beat faster. I am so grateful for them. Life is good. The cold is making me stronger.

New Song

2007-01-26T04:43:00.000-08:00

High on a hill far away from the din and the day
The sun escapes, from those it shamed, unknowingly

And the moon comes a creepin' around the bend
And you whisper things you shouldn't

It's all around, the fear and the doubt
Squeezing it out, with what we can't wait for
And I'm not the kind, to hold in my mind
An idea that we both don't share

But the moon comes a creepin' around the bend
And you whisper things you shouldn't

When will it be spring
So it can bring
Clarity to the situation
Falling into you
Is what I do
When the wind whips me into submission

It's a far cry from the dirt in my eyes
From the ones from the heat down below
And I, don't want to shame you
Or try to change you
I just want to break through
The stories we are

But the moon comes a creepin' around the bend
And you whisper things you shouldn't

The New Man in My Life

2007-01-05T09:49:00.000-08:00

Here he is :) Lets hope he gets along really well with the other man in my life!

For a Dancer

2006-12-29T10:44:00.000-08:00

by Jackson Browne

Keep a fire burning in your eye
Pay attention to the open sky
You never know what will be coming down
I dont remember losing track of you
You were always dancing in and out of view
I must have thought youd always be around
Always keeping things real by playing the clown
Now youre nowhere to be found

I dont know what happens when people die
Cant seem to grasp it as hard as I try
Its like a song I can hear playing right in my ear
That I cant sing
I cant help listening
And I cant help feeling stupid standing round
Crying as they ease you down
cause I know that youd rather we were dancing
Dancing our sorrow away
(right on dancing)
No matter what fate chooses to play
(theres nothing you can do about it anyway)

Just do the steps that youve been shown
By everyone youve ever known
Until the dance becomes your very own
No matter how close to yours
Anothers steps have grown
In the end there is one dance you'll do alone

Keep a fire for the human race
Let your prayers go drifting into space
You never know what will be coming down
Perhaps a better world is drawing near
And just as easily it could all disappear
Along with whatever meaning you might have found
Dont let the uncertainty turn you around
(the world keeps turning around and around)
Go on and make a joyful sound

Into a dancer you have grown
From a seed somebody else has thrown
Go on ahead and throw some seeds of your own
And somewhere between the time you arrive
And the time you go
May lie a reason you were alive
But you'll never know

********************

My father told me off and on throughout my childhood and adulthood that there was a definitive moment when he knew that he was ready to be a father. It was after listening to Jackson Browne's song above. This song inspired him to put aside all of his fears about a loss of autonomy, the possiblilties of inadequacy, and the terror of being responsible for another human life. This song somehow liberated him in a powerful way. My sister somewhat resents that the inspiration that led to her birth was a measily song, but I feel very differently. What better way to jump into parenthood then on the wings of beautiful words attached to a melody that give you strength and joy and hope? Does it matter where or how we get the power to do those things in life that are most worthwhile, but most terrifying? Like loving another completely, accepting our own mortality, or bearing and raising a child? I don't think so.

I just received an ipod from my friend and am turned on now to the new shuffle experience. Of course I feel like all of the songs that arise on the shuffle have special and important messages to relay to me. I think this song popping up (I haven't listened to it in many years) was a special treat to reflect and share.

Holiday Blessings

2006-12-25T17:50:00.000-08:00

I am a lucky lady. A number of blessings have fallen out of the sky for me in the last 3 days. I almost find it impossible to be true.

1) Improv
I thought that there was absolutely no improv going on in the Albany area, but I came apon an ad in the classifieds for a lighting technician for an improv group. I had heard of this group before, but knew they were a very small short form group that didn't do much. I went to their website anyway, and found that they have really grown since I moved away. They perform about once a month for the public, and do corporate shows as well. They perform a number of different forms, but of course the one that piqued my interest was the full fledged improv musical. And particularly a full-fledged musical about someone in the audience. I must say, this is a delicious merging of my musician/improv self. They also teach a number of classes. I emailed the director and he wrote back right away! And the training director emailed me too! She wants to meet for coffee next week! And they are having open auditions for a new cast member January 13th! What a great break for me. I have been trying to get a group started on my own, but if I could enter this group it would really help me get started performing and teaching a lot quicker. The other cool thing some cast members in the group are involved with is a company called Thiagi that works to improve business performance through game play, etc. Great stuff!!! So of course, I am very excited about all of this..

2) Music
I am on my way to recording my next album with Frank. We have a drummer, a bass player, and I have about 5 other friends that will be contributing to the album. We are starting to generate a lot of ideas and excitement, and will begin to record at the end of January. I can't wait, and feel so grateful to have all of my very talented friends here in the area to make this experience a truly special, memorable one.

3) Work
My boss pulled me aside last week to tell me about an amazing job that is opening up in her bureau. It would be a permanent one with the state office of mental health working on looking at individuals with mental health disorders and how frequently that are being filtered into the criminal justice system. My current job is only temporary, so i felt so grateful she is looking out for me. If I worked for the state, I could get my DrPH (instead of the more academic PhD) for free through the state's academic support program while I work. And the job would be a promotion! We'll see :)

4) Christmas
I received the best christmas present this year from a man I'm seeing. I have not gotten very many presents in my life from boyfriends, so this gift was to say the least, exciting to receive :)

I had an amazing Christmas with my family. A cousin who has been really sick is finally on the mend :) We were all together last night laughing so hard that my belly and mouth hurt today :)

So, my life is about 100 percent better today than it was 3 months ago. OK, that is an exaggeration, and also something I am working on, living and talking in less extremes. But, I am feeling more alive, grateful, and happy than I have in a really long time. Thank you you crazy universe, you always come round, don't you....

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkuh, and Happy Kwanzaa to you all :) I hope you are all enjoying the holiday as much as I have been able to.

In an instant

2006-12-15T19:57:00.000-08:00

Today as I was driving home from work during rush hour on 787 North, a mid size SUV driving on 787 South swerved into the guardrail and drove through it, driving directly towards me and another car going the wrong direction. About 10 cars slammed on their brakes and miraculously no one collided. The guardrail was spilling into the road and looked like it was a piece of oversized taffy. The SUV was smashed. I didn't know what to do. People were getting out of their cars and running to see if the person in the SUV was ok, then about 5 or 6 cars pulled to the side of the highway. I decided to, drive home. Usually I would be the first one to see if the driver was ok, but this time I wasn't. Why wasn't I? I was scared for my safety on the road. Will I only help others if my safety isn't threatened? Will I only help others if no one is is helping? I was in shock and shaking. And then, my father pulled up next to me in his car. He saw everything. He gave me a loving look, and we drove to his and my mom's apartment, and we talked and hugged.

In an instant everything can change. And in an instant everything that was making you sad, just seems so small. And in an instant, your family means everything.

Christmas Christmas Time is Here….

2006-12-12T13:22:00.000-08:00

I have to admit, I am a sucker for the whole Christmas holiday season. Not the over-consumption of goods and services, food and drink, (well maybe a little food and drink) and all of the cranky shoppers and road-ragers, but for other things. I love the smell of my Christmas tree in my house. I love bright lights on gloomy houses surrounded by bare trees. I love red and green. I love peppermint and cookies and baked goods everywhere you turn. I love Christmas carols, singing them and listening to them. I love Vince Guaraldi’s A Charlie Brown Christmas. I love cuddling by the Christmas tree. I adore "It's a Wonderful Life". I love ice-skating in the plaza and getting dressed up and cute little santas and snowmen, and.... I think it is obvious that I am either a serious mommy in training or totally losing my cool factor. But I can't help it. This stuff makes me happy. It makes Biscuit happy too. When I am out I always find him laying on the couch staring at the Christmas tree when I get home. And he takes long drinks from the stand. And he rolls around jingle bells on the floor. And I cuddle him just a little bit more than usual.

I'm in no way religious, and was not raised that way. But my family always celebrated Christmas with fervor. It was one of the few rituals we engaged in. I feel that there are so few cultural rituals in my life, I hold on to this one, even though it may be silly, contrived, and gaudy. I don't care.

Pull

2006-12-03T06:57:00.000-08:00

So up above there is a tag that says "pull". On every other computer I've looked at, it pulls down nicely with all of my goodies up there to be seen. Though, on my own computer, it doesn't work. Anyone out there have any idea why the pull doesn't work on mine?

X marks the spot

2006-12-02T19:20:00.000-08:00

I love my new job, though it is strange that I make a living off of the misfortune of others. I am working on a project that currently aims to deliver mental health services to families who have been affected by devastating floods that occurred in southern New York this year. When I first heard about this job, I had no idea that New York had even been flooded, or that it was so severe. Once I saw some of the pictures on this website, I was shocked and amazed at how ignorant I was of this disaster. I went down to Binghamton recently and drove through one of the hardest hit areas. There were large X's spray painted on the houses, and I learned that each segment of the X had numbers in it denoting how many people were in the house, if they were alive or dead, etc. It was chilling. Reminded me of Katrina. After searching online for further meaning of these X's, I found this:

"The red X’s spray-painted on the front door of every house immediately catch your eye. It’s the sign the house was searched for bodies. At the top of the X, the date the search was conducted. To the left, the two initials of the state from which the search and rescue team hailed. At the bottom, the number of dead found in that house."

These images were found here.

What recently happened is just difficult to swallow. Many families around Binghamton finally finished installing new furnaces and fixing up their destroyed basements. But just before Thanksgiving, many families were re-flooded once again, and lost their furnaces again. It is a scary thing to live in New York without heat. Part of the work of the counselors in my program is to help victims deal with post traumatic stress disorder, and hypervigilance. What is astonishing though, is that as these individuals were trying to let go of the fear they experience every time it rains, their worst fear actually came to pass. I have absolutely no no no idea how that could ever feel. My sister lives 2 miles from these families. I am so grateful that she is not going through this.

I want it to stop raining. These families need some respite. Please stop raining.

It All Falls Apart

2006-11-28T18:40:00.000-08:00

I saw you up there on the stage
I didn’t know you, no not that way
It hasn’t been a year
But the love has disappeared
How can we be so cold that way
I once loved you with all of me

But it all falls apart
You can’t put it back together
It’s always doomed from the start
Destined to start over
And it doesn’t really matter
How many times before
You’d put a hammer to a nail
And say to yourself
I won’t love no one no more.

Loving ain’t so easy for me
Giving it away so soon and free
A good man is so hard to find
One that thinks of others some of the time
A good man, for a real good woman like me
One that can say he’s in love, but he’s afraid

But it all falls apart
You can’t put it back together
It’s always doomed from the start
Destined to start over
And it doesn’t really matter
How many times before
You’d put a hammer to a nail
And say to yourself
I won’t love no one no more.

I reached out to you on a limb
Because I felt something move deep within
And now you are too good to be true
There’s not one dark thing about you
It’s hard to let you in
Because always in the end

It all falls apart
You can’t put it back together
It’s always doomed from the start
Destined to start over
And it doesn’t really matter
How many times before
You’d put a hammer to a nail
And say to yourself
I won’t love no one no more.

Back Again

2006-11-27T20:12:00.000-08:00

I am ready again to blog. This inspiration has actually come from an experience today at the nail salon.

After a long day at work, in my gym clothes, in lots of traffic, I decided to stop and get my eyebrows waxed. One of my many guilty pleasures.

I love the place I go to. The young Vietnemese woman are so gentle, nurturing, kind. I was suprised to see that the young woman who usually did me had a sizable protruding belly. How did I not notice before?

As I layed down on the waxing bed, she prepared the hot wax on a little stick. As she stood over me, her pregnant belly was pushed tight into my side. She couldn't help it, it just stuck out that way. Over and over as she got more wax, her belly, full of life, would push into me, then release. It felt quite profound and beautiful in that little room. This unseen life, in this kind, gentle woman's belly, indrectly making contact with me. I felt grateful for the suprisingly intimate moment we shared, and for my beautiful eyebrows :) A good day.