transitional swirlings and twirlings; part 4

I have been rearranging things in my apartment, and it has made it difficult for me to blog. I’ve sort of fucked with my mojo.

I’ve been turning my dining room into an office, and it has been a bumpy transition. I started this two weeks ago, and it has only been the last few days where I have been somewhat physically comfortable, and today I made some more improvements. But I have a very hard time focusing from over here in the dining room, on blogging. (I have gotten up about five times since I started writing this.)

Now, for those who know me well, you may be wondering why the hell I would make any change that would compromise my ability to focus.

Yeah. It’s a little weird. Because the point of doing it (or, one point; there were a few reasons I made this change) was, in fact, to help me focus better. And in some ways it has, and, I think it will continue to strengthen. I think this is the adjustment period. I think the result has already been and will continue to be overall improved productivity.

And yet somehow the blogging suffers. Because there is a groove, and I’m not in it.

I’m further from the tv but closer to the kitchen.

And also, (here it is) I think I may be having a hard time writing regardless. But it’s freaking tricky to tease it out.

I’ve had a lot going on. There are a lot of exciting and glowing bright and shiny opportunities and situations that have been finding their way to me. But there are also a lot of disappointments. And each day, nearly every day, I find myself ashamed of just how much I am not ‘bringing it’.

And yeah, that makes it hard to write, even especially about the successes.

Because what I want to do in here is write about all the glowing bright and shiny opportunities and situations that have been finding their way to me. And make it all sound fabulous and like I have it together and like I am the master of my own glowing bright and shiny universe and that yes, it may not all come together perfectly well, but in here, in this blog, that won’t be my fault, because I am so… you know, gb&s. And you can’t possibly fail when you are generating this much light.

Only I’d be leaving out how it takes me until 2 or 3 or 4 or sometimes 6 o’clock some days to actually get off the couch.

It has helped that I have separated my laptop from my couch. Somewhat.

I know how this works. I really do. I can’t measure myself with someone else’s yardstick. I am doing some wonderful things. I am moving forward in areas in which I have been immobilized for centuries. I am making some amazing strides.

Little, baby step strides.

I’m doing okay. I fight lethargy as part of my world, and some days I fight harder than others. And now, without a job, of course it is more important than ever that I keep moving. And I am far from perfect at it. But can’t think of a day when I haven’t at least left the house, I can’t think of a day where something has not been done to improve my life. Work harder is not a bad message to give myself, but You aren’t doing enough is. A bad message. Really they are saying the same things, intended for the same result, only I cannot afford to give energy to the stuff that is designed to perpetuate self-hatred. Because that I flourish in.

So, some highlights:

I played at Magpie‘s mead tasting event a few weeks ago. It was delightful, and it took my music-making magic out of my head and put it into my body. I am now practicing nearly every day. And I made a contact up there that may lead to some really fun gigs. Handed out the business cards :- )

There was a full-time, back in the working world job I’d interviewed for and was excited about. I didn’t get that job.

My voiceover demos are complete and available for the public to hear.

I played a little set last night at an open band jam at the Notch… this was the first night like this they’d ever had, and it was really fun for everyone. For me though, it was a significant breakthrough… the Notch is host to hundreds of hairy musicians, none of whom know I sing. I know how it is… one more chick who says she can sing, sure, blah blah blah. But me, I can SING. And it doesn’t matter if you tell people this, they don’t get it until they experience it for themselves. I kicked ass last night. Dean Shot, who runs it, couldn’t tell me enough how great he thought I was, and wants me to come to another place and play there. More exposure to more musicians. Perhaps future collaborators?

I also played at a more traditional acoustic open mic last week. Also fun, but those get a little… masturbatory. I will say that it was a pretty supportive environment, but they tend to be less social, and in terms of networking, it’s harder, because most people there are other guitarist/vocalists.

I’ve been to a few yoga classes… I’m trying to hit one a week, which helps me (a wee bit) to practice on my own. Wee.

I attended an all-night fire ceremony. Perhaps I will write more on this, perhaps not. This is the third year in a row I have attended this particular event, and I love seeing so many of the people… Billy Bardo was there for the first time, and I adore adore adore him. But I have to say, flat out, that it was lame. Really lame fire circle. And way too pricey to be lame.

Orien Rose is home from the hospital and getting packed for Starwood. A 100% recovery is expected. She is a freaking million miracles.

Communication with Joe is open and comfortable. He is considering coming up here to celebrate Lammas with us. I tried so many times to have him come up for a ritual with this group when we were together. So the question naturally floats into my head… what is he doing? What’s going on? Is this really his version of friends? And beautifully, my answer is… I don’t care. I don’t care what he is doing, I don’t care if anything is going on. I don’t have to figure Joe out. That’s his job.

Whatever… I am no longer interested in sorting through the mixed messages of mixed-message-guy (that’s a generic… mixed-message-guy is someone I constantly draw, and am drawn to). My job is to assume nothing means anything, ever, until I am clubbed over the head with a big, you know, club.

And my sanity regarding him is palpable. When my phone rings and it’s him, I get a little happy, but not disproportionately so. One night last week we were trying to find time to speak, and we settled on later that night, but not (per my request) too late, and we set up 11. He then sent a text asking if 12 would be alright? And I said nah, it’ll have to be another day.

 

(I am pretty certain that the significance of that response escaped Joe.)

After a near epic struggle, I have finally decided that I am not going to Starwood this year. I wasn’t going to and then the seed got planted and I was suddenly in can-I-get-myself-to-Starwood mode and I just can’t figure out how to spend the money and time, even though I could do a lot of networking, without it being truly a blatant act of irresponsibility. No matter how I frame it, this is where I land, and so not going is the right decision. The freaks of light will dance without me. (And like, everyone I know is going this year.)

I posted some original music on yet another myspace page. (I finally got some help with the MP3 conversion; Paula to the rescue again.) I’ve had these recordings for around five years (in fact, the first three were recorded at Starwood in 2002), and I’ve never presented them anywhere, or like, thrown them onto a CD and sold them. And so now I’m going to do that. This was a big, long-neglected step. Today. I did this today.

Other things, there have been other things… new ideas that keep circling back to me. I am clear that nothing is coming to me quickly, or without hard work and suffering. But I am continuing to move forward in multiple directions… that is what I am to do. I move forward with each thing as though that is the thing that I will have success in… and even though I can’t possibly have them all at once, and where I land next is yet to be revealed, this is how I am to proceed.

Work harder.

Seems, at least, my blogging mojo is back.

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