so the internet attacked my blog and then tried to eat it. sorry about the porn pop ups and malware. not sure what else to say about that other than what. the. fuck and change your passwords regularly.
then google blacklisted me and we had to delete the blog permanently and start over. and naturally, I have never in three years backed up the blog or saved any of it anywhere, so there was a few panic minutes when I seriously thought everything I’d written in the last three years – letters to B, love notes to alex, letters to my dead grandma, memories – all of the important stuff – was about to disappear. and that made me sick to my stomach.
but alex backed it up and then fixed it. so back up your blogs. regularly.
there’s still some tinkering to do…photos were lost, links are broken, plugins that need to be installed and configured…and google friend connect is a huge whore and cancelled on anyone without a blogger account.
oh and I’m trying to get ready for the baby because I think he’s coming sooner rather than later.
so bear with me.
if you’re still reading this – or subscribed to this shit in some way, shape, or form…thank you.
I feel like crap right now.
also, in the imminent demise of the blog, I rethought some things.
My career has been a lifelong pursuit of creating and performing music. I can’t really stand to not play live for any extended amount of time, so I do spend a lot of time doing gigs in many different formats and for many different artists as well as my own bands.
2. how did you get started as a musician?
When I was very young, I was always drawn to my mother playing the piano and to the music that she used to play us on the family stereo. I then began piano lessons, but I switched to guitar right around my 13th birthday and have been focused on that instrument ever since.
As my songwriting developed during my many years of performing and playing, I began to sing to bring life to my own lyrics, and that has lead to several albums.
3. do you write your own lyrics?
Always… I am actually very attached to expressing thoughts and ideas through the lyrics of my songs.
4. what inspires you?
The “human condition” is the subject of most of my writing. I tend to explore the inner-workings of interpersonal relationships the most. I find that many of us have experienced some sort of emotional challenges in our lives, and I draw from my personal experiences and the experiences of others that I know of or “observe” from a distance to create the characters in my songs. Emotional trauma is a source of conflict that can derail many of our lives, and through the songs I write, I hope to bring some form of catharsis to those going through or recovering from these events. I also hope to provide a glimpse into the depths of these events to those of us that are on a different path, as learning and experiencing from another’s perspective is a key source of growth in our own lives. Empathy, honesty, taking a walk in someone else’s shoes for a bit, these are some of the elements I hope to bring to the table in the music I write.
5. which of your albums is your personal favorite?
The Lilypad Suite. Each albums to me has been a progression in musical skill and ability to express ideas, and so far, the LLS has been the album to bring most of my experience to fruition.
6. what are some of your most memorable tours/shows/places?
Live touring is one of the areas in my career that has been really good to me. I started touring in a band as soon as got out of college in 85, I have been regularly touring since that time, all over the world.
Some memorable shows would be Mexico City as a solo artist, Paris with Porcupine Tree and solo on tour with Marillion. India was insane, Montreal never fails to please. Of course the Royal Albert Hall gig was amazing as was the Radio City Music Hall. Poland and Italy are always a treat. South America was one of the real “social” eye openers for me, as were Israel and Greece. Radio City and The Royal Albert Hall will never fade though…simply amazing.
7. what’s the craziest story you have from your years of touring?
Again, I have been really fortunate in the “crazy story” category, I have toured with some real characters so there are too many to recount!
Doing shows in Pristina in Kosovo right after the UN pushed Serbia out was a series of wild events. At the time there was no Government in Kosovo and it was being run by the Eastern European mob, but the peace was being enforced by factions of the U.N.. The City still had tons of bombed out buildings and was and amazing place to wander through. The U.N. had hired “mercenaries” or
“professional soldiers” to come in and clear land mines and act as peace keepers in ways the U.N., were not allowed. They would gather in a bar behind the hotel called the “Ghurka Bar”, some of the characters in there and the stories could only have come from a movie. During that week we had many rousing drinking nights there, and a police captain was shot up in the lobby of our hotel with AK 47′s. On the last night there one of our crew decided to impress one of the local girls by throwing a television out of the window of our hotel at about 6:30 am ish. He didn’t realize that below his room was the breakfast nook, and that every morning the Mob leaders that controlled Pristina met there. The TV landed on the roof and came through the ceiling a bit, the mob sent there goons all through the hotel searching for the “rock star” that had tossed the T.V. We had to call our Royal Marine hosts in to negotiate the terms of release for our errant light man. He paid 900.00 dollars for a 75 dollar TV! He kept the remote though…. Said he would frame it!
8. who are some artists you’ve worked with in the past?
Mostly European artists…. It is kind of strange, the list is not long, because I didn’t really jump from gig to gig…. I just kept the gig I had for years at a time. Porcupine Tree, Fish, Sister Hazel, Mike Tramp, and several others.
9. what are the 10 most listened to songs in your itunes?
Lately it has been a lot of Elbow, Patty Girffin and Rush!
10. what are the first 10 songs on shuffle in your itunes?
A couple years ago there was a girl who was attacked at the local library and basically left for dead. She lost everything and her parents have been taking care of her at home ever since. This year she turns 21 and her insurance is dropping her from the policy. Her parents are desperate to keep her home and not send her to an assisted living facility. So Aliquity, the charity group Dottie, Brian, Alex, and I founded, held a golf tournament on Sunday to raise funds to help cover her medical bills. We raised over $13,000 and will be doing so every year to make sure she can get the care she needs from her own home, with her own family. I’ve taken a much smaller role in all of our events since I around the time I got pregnant last year…but as the dust is starting to settle I’ll be taking back a lot of my responsibilities.
we camped under the trees and the rain fell down from the sky and bubbles and smoke floated around us. we floated down the river in an inflatable pool and i closed my eyes and let sleep take me. we slept in tents, burrowed under blankets, listening to the rain and the birds and creatures of the night. we sat around a fire and burned things and cooked things and sang to megan on her birthday…the weekend was hers, after all.
and when no one else was around for miles and was all alone, i found my deer. she walked out into the path and she looked at me. and i looked at her. and for a long time we just stared at each other. and she waited while i walked closer. a car echoed through the trees and she ran. but i saw her watching me from the trees, watching me while i watched for alex. magic rained down from the sky and there was no one else to witness it.
Friday was for sunshine and smoky casinos and feeling the waves rock you to sleep. Saturday was for the wind that threatened to carry you away despite Beloved’s watchful eye. Saturday was for vow renewals and dancing with your Romeo and pictures for your unborn child. Saturday was for the Bahamas and the unforgiving sun. Saturday was for curses and cathedrals and a long red dress. Saturday was for a string quartet playing in your ear while you looked out over an island’s fading glory.
Sunday was for long braids and old hats and room service. Sunday was for beaches lined with trees and dreams behind closed eyes. Sunday was for volleyball and sunburns and seaweed scarring perfect blue. Sunday was for Beloved’s fingers on your neck, his arms around your glowing shoulders. Sunday was for a baby, fluttering away to the beat of your heart. Sunday was for everything you ever wanted.
Cold airports, flights without my Husband. Chastised by immigration, stranded by the police, abandoned in the dark. Spinning on a dance floor, oblivious to the world. A jewelry store with a bar in the corner, free drinks and anything we wanted. A thousand lights hanging in the dark. Bliss, standing in the middle of a pool with a hundred eyes on me, dress swirling around my legs, purple in the blue water. Markets and shops, bags, and braids. A sick boy lost at the top of a staircase leading nowhere except the sky. Too many speed bumps and butterflies in my stomach. Cows in the street and a stray dog that needs saving. Laying in the sand, looking up at planes close enough to touch with the tips of my fingers. A puppy burned with acid, 3 kittens left for dead. Two kittens in the sink, washing off the smell of death that clings to them so fiercely. A restaurant in the trees, lulled to sleep by a disco ball. French accents and narrow streets, curtains blowing through the windows of graffitied houses. One brokedown palace after another stacked precariously up the mountainside, columns crumbling, vines covering blackened walls. A small child in an alley, running desperately towards traffic. An anchored boat in the waves of a nude beach, swimming to shore to walk on the rocks in the shadows of mountains. Puppies in cages that will never know love, if not for mine. Phone calls to beloved looking out over a lagoon. Losing all concept of time curled up on a beach, glowing in the sun. Goats behind fences, roosters in the street. Dinners at fancy restaurants, nights spent in casinos.
Julie is leaving for St. Maarten tomorrow. Tonight, over margaritas, Beloved suggested I go with her.
So I am.
I will be gone for a whole week. And it makes me sad that Husband will be alone. I haven’t left yet and I’m already excited for when I get to see him when I come home.
Maybe he will post something on here while I’m gone. Maybe he won’t.
Wednesday, 2/10: Dearly Beloved helped me pack our bags and in a flurry we rushed out the door and watched the sunrise from the car as we wound our way through traffic to the airport. We giggled a lot and told each other jokes and no one in the world could have distracted me from his face, lit up with laughter. He held my hand on the plane when I needed it…and eventually we landed in Dallas. We giggled some more and our laughter carried up into the air and exhausted, I fell asleep in my stolen window seat with Husband at my side, somewhere over Colorado. Soon enough, he shook me awake and I followed his gaze and silently watched the black and white ribbons of snow curl around the ground thousands of feet below us. We waited in the airport for our friends and I lied down in the middle of the airport on our suitcase that was bigger than I was. Eventually we found Kelly and Jerry and then Anthony made his way to us and we were off in our Jeep to race our way through the Enchanted Tunnel, to the mountains. We had dinner at Denny’s and no one contained their laughter when I leapt from the car and stood in the snow for the very first time. Our waiters were most likely high and one of them was scared of us. We ate our pancakes and laughed until we had the rapt attention of every single person in the restaurant while Alex told his Mongolian Grill story and Kelly lost her shoes. I curled up into a ball in the car and when I woke up, we were in Breckenridge, in the safety of our hotel. I snuggled with Husband and dreamt strange dreams.
Thursday, 2/11: As soon as the sun filtered through the clouds, Dearly Beloved was pulling me out of bed and to the balcony. In the morning light I held onto him and shook my sleepy head at the endless mountains and falling snow that he so desperately wanted me to see. We ate our breakfast by the hot tub, we had lunch at the Brewery, and then we followed the reggae as we walked through the ice to the bottom of the ski lift. Husband and I bid each other farewell and I was left to wander the streets, always wondering in the back of my mind if Alex was safe. I rode the gondola up and down the mountain surrounded by perfect silence and when I grew restless I wandered up and down main street. I found a sweet little thrift shop and played with the dogs, local art galleries and ice cream shops. I slipped on an icy bridge and fell, several times, and then I found rows and rows of ice sculptures just sitting in the snow. And somehow or another I got lost. And then I realized I couldn’t breath. But by and by I found our hotel and curled up in our bed sick as could be. Then in walked Dearly Beloved and he curled up next to me and we all watched movies while the snow fell outside our window. We drank smoothies at the Oxygen Bar and Anthony and I read about our documented High Altitude Sickness. Then two spanish boys made us sushi for dinner and Kelly whispered to me the whereabouts of an Enchanted Forest. In the shuttle on the way home, I asked the driver, “Is it always decorated for Christmas here?” …and he said yes.
Friday, 2/12: Before I was even fully awake, Husband came in from the balcony holding two pairs of shorts, icy and frozen. We laughed our way to breakfast and our long haired hippy waitress swayed around in her skirt and pig tails. It was decided early on that I would spend the day at the Enchanted Forest and coaster-collecting along Main Street while they went snowboarding down the mountain again. But I didn’t have a key back to the room, so I read my worn and weathered book and drifted in and out watching the snow coming down…and then in walked my Husband, missing a glove. So we went down to the slopes hand in hand, and Jerry pushed me on his snowboard and Husband and I began our everlasting bar crawl. We collected coasters and told stories and breathlessly laughed and drank new things and went to the tattoo parlor. We walked home and Husband made me a fox hole in the snow and we kissed and played until we were numb and frozen. And we had pad thai for dinner and we went to Cecilia’s where the bartender didn’t charge me and a boy taught Alex how to pole dance. We met Smullen’s mini me and got caught in the middle of a bar fight. At 3 in the morning we tried to walk home but it took forever because Kelly kept throwing glaciers at Alex and then he dove into a rock, mistaking it for the fox hole, and Anthony hid and tried to scare us. But we made it. And right when I was ready to dream my strange dreams for the third night in a row, Alex and Kelly decided to plan a covert mission to the hot tub. We almost got kicked out of the hotel. It was all the espionage I’ll ever need.
Saturday, 2/13: On Saturday we woke up late. We decided we wanted pizza so off we went to harass the shuttle driver. But before we had even made it to the elevator, Husband handed me a single, perfect rose and he gave me that look, the one where there is nothing in his eyes but me and us. And then he whacked me in the head with it. And then he kissed the top of my nose. I carried that rose with me all day, to the pizza place, to the art gallery where I discovered my second favorite artist, to the fire pit where we took a polaroid, to main street in the furiously falling snow. And then we went sledding. We crossed an icy river and I tumbled down a hill and Anthony taught me how to make snow angels while wearing his Elmo hat. Husband was the bravest and when the sun set and we couldn’t see anymore we made our way back to the hotel, desperately trying to breath in the cold. We went to an awful burger place for dinner and added more boxes to our rapidly growing array of leftovers. Kelly asked the shuttle driver if it was always decorated for Christmas…and he said no.
Sunday, 2/14: We woke up and Husband scratched my back without putting up a fight. We heated up all of our leftovers and ate them for breakfast. We packed into the car and drove into Denver to take Kelly and Jerry to the airport. But first, we stumbled upon some dinosaurs, but the snow covered up all of the fossils and the tour guide was old and the shop was lame and snow was cold so we left, disappointed to tears. We wandered REI, the mecca of all things outdoors and eventually made our way to the airport. The boys talked business things on the way back to Breckinridge and we stopped and went shopping with Anthony, laughing at the fancy labels, ugly clothes, and expensive price tags. We celebrated the Lunar New Year at a Chinese place and then Husband and I walked through the bitter cold to the Green Fairy absinthe bar. Labyrinth and Willow played on the tvs, the bartender told me all about absinthe and made me mighty large green absinthe concoction. We sat at our little table, just drifting and talking and loving, and we made friends with the old man who owned the place and the bartender gave us sticks of wormwood. There were green lights and a hundred different coasters and couches and fairies and I couldn’t think of a happier place. Even on Valentine’s Day, I couldn’t vocalize the butterfly-inducing perfection of my Husband or the depths to which I adore him. But he looked into my eyes and I’m quite positive he could feel it, if that makes sense. But that happens a lot, so Sunday was just a normal day, and we loved each other the only way we know how, the way we do every day. No sense in making a fuss with perfume and candy and things when you have that cataclysmic-star-crossed-true-love that until now, you’ve only read about in books. It just makes those things seem trivial and mundane.
Monday, 2/15: On Monday we started at the Brewery. And then Anthony went off to Copper Mountain and Husband took me ice skating. He held my hand and steadied me and he tied up my skates, just tight enough so that I wouldn’t fall. Everything he does, he does perfectly. I hobbled around the edges watching him gracefully flying across the ice, stopping only to help me. But despite his best efforts, showing me how to skate frontwards and backwards and spin and turn and stop, I fell. And I fell hard. And kids laughed. And I cried, as much as I didn’t want to. And my knees turned black and blue and Husband helped me off the ice and rubbed my knee and wiped my tears. He even humored me when I got back up and tried to keep skating. But you only kid yourself so much, so we walked back to the Brewery. Husband took a hundred pictures of me as we walked along and I slipped and fell everywhere I tried to stand. We had ice cream at the Brewery and met the nicest old hippie couple and we told each stories for hours and hours. Back at the hotel we snuggled and watched movies.
Tuesday, 2/16: Tuesday was lazy. We went to a museum inside a house from the early 1800′s, full of furniture and art and clothes and dishes. We saw pictures of the family that lived there. I imagined them in the house, sitting on the couch, playing the piano, decorating their Christmas tree, imagined where they wore the clothes hanging in the closet. And then, I heard just above a whisper, the old woman at the door telling some new guests that not a single thing was original to the house. Just a bunch of collected antiques from the 1800′s. I was so irritated I left. And then we found some little shops and we picked up some French wine and cheese and some chocolate with a love poem inside. We lounged around for a while, all classy with our wine, and the only thing that could have dragged us out of our warm room was the Mardi Gras parade. But we missed it so went to the Liquid Lounge instead and I held a tiny puppy named Banjo until his parents whisked him away. We played bar games and I found a whiskey poster and for the last time, we walked home in the falling snow.
Wednesday, 2/17: We woke up at 3 a.m. to drive to Denver and catch our planes. The snow glittered in the headlights and the Enchanted Tunnel was still enchanted. We had ice cream for breakfast and laughed a little harder, a little louder, a little longer than usual, soaring on our sugar high. Husband still held my hand on the plane and I counted the football fields when we flew over Texas. I danced outside the airport while we waited for Sheehan to pick us up, pleasantly embarrassing Husband. We marveled at how nice our warm, humid air is and how nice it is to breathe.
And the we went home.
All of the pictures will be on our flickr account very very soon.
