Inertia

I’m always trying something new. Here’s a video I put together with a demo I wrote and recorded last year, along with video I took last year. I’ll just let it speak for itself.

Hurricane Isaac

I saw this floating around Facebook, and it was driving me a little bit crazy that 1) there were no classic Isaac pointing fingers 2) the images were SO grainy and 3) Isaac’s head(s) were all distorted. So I just re-did it. My apologies to whoever originally thought of this brilliant idea, but I had to do it!

This just in… Isaac is making a break west and is headed towards Alabama, Joyce is dissipating to the east, but look out, Kirk might be on the way, and he looks ANGRY.

Outta sight!

Life on Mars

So my friend Jen and I are talking after Curiosity landed on Mars and she says, “I’m just waiting for someone to put the photo-bomb squirrel on Mars.”

Wait no longer, friend. Your moment has arrived.

 

 

 

 

 

Revisiting the Year 2000 Me- This Day 12 Years Ago

It’s days like today that I am so grateful that I keep all my old journals. All my thoughts from years gone past- whether I wrote on all the pages of a notebook, or just a few, I keep and cherish them. I love to look back on them to see where I was, compared with where I am now. Some things I have worked through and overcome. Sadly, there are themes that have continued to haunt me- things I wrote about then, still apply today. I’m workin’ on it… I swear!  Knowing is half the battle, right? ; ) But to be able to go back and randomly read something you wrote even 5, 10, or in this case 12 years ago, it’s amazing to see how you’ve grown- or haven’t.

Some things still haunt me to this day.

So today I came across a notebook called “Morning Pages”. I read a book called “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron. She suggests writing in a journal in the morning when you first get up (or, if you’re me- lay in bed and scrawl sideways while trying to keep your eyes mostly shut because you REALLY don’t want to be awake- you must remember I was a 27 year old with a more than full time job, a band and a very active social life!). The goal is to write 3 hand-written pages per day. Write anything, it doesn’t matter- it is supposed to clear your mind and prepare you for a good creative-thinking day. It opens your mind while it is still fresh.

I recommend this book to any creative person.

Well, I ended up LOVING doing this. I actually almost finished my notebook, which is unheard of for me. I usually get about halfway through a notebook, if that, before it starts to lose it’s energy, and I retire it to the closet. Now, a lot of what I wrote was regular journal stuff- how much I hated work, guy trouble/then not trouble/then trouble again, thoughts on life events- my own and others, lots of inner work right there for me to relive on the pages of a 12 year old notebook. How amazing to be able to look at the then 27 year old, who was practically still a kid. I had all the tools and none of the manpower. I can look back and see how silly I was in some ways- mostly in regards to my pushing forward with music projects. The only thing that was stopping me ***spoiler alert*** was me. I was the queen of setting up my own roadblocks.

Get out of my way… me!

So at the end of the morning pages for 8/19/00- after a very mundane entry about not wanting to get up, thinking about work and how much I don’t care about it (though, I go on to write about it for 1 and a half pages), how I need to clean my place up, a little on the guy trouble front- I dive right into this with no warning, and then absolutely no explanation afterward:

“Whispering through wind has always been so easy. Just close your eyes and imagine the breeze in your hair. Look inside yourself for just a moment in your time and breathe the air I breathe. Find your inner soul- yourself as a child, yourself so clean and new with so many tears to cry and so much more to view.  The trees sing the song of my youth. I look at them as I breathe my smoke and wonder- where’s the time gone? What have I done with my mind- what will I do with this body that so graciously and unconditionally accepted me? I wonder every day- is this it? What have I learned? Just keep the door open and don’t forget to chase those leaves. *sigh*”

No caption necessary

The sigh is even written like I meant it. But that’s how writing/journaling has always been for me. Blah blah blah- and then BAM- something somewhat worthwhile spills out like lava… just flows right out- like my songs and my writings- in one fast and furious motion. Like I tuned into a special station just for me and simply transcribed the message.

I think I need to start doing morning pages again…

and to remember to keep that door open…

and to chase the leaves.

“Chase the leaves, they’ll take you home.” ~Leaf Trinity

Sigh.

The Grumbler

It’s 5am.

Really, it is not a big deal that I’m awake. I generally like this time of the morning, but usually it’s because I’ve been out all night. Not tonight- I went to sleep at 10:30pm and slept until “the grumbler” started his grumblings at around 1:30am. He has gone from “squeak box” to “the grumbler” pretty much overnight. I don’t have a song parody for the grumbler yet, but I suppose an obvious choice would be “The Gambler”. Though, I don’t think Kenny Rogers ever actually says “The Gambler” in the song. Or maybe he does:

“On a warm summer’s evenin’ on a train bound for nowhere,
I met up with the grumbler; we were both too tired to sleep.
So we took turns a starin’ out the window at the darkness
‘Til boredom overtook us, and he began to speak.”

It kind of works. Now to work on the chorus. And it’s going to need some work, alright.

“You got to know when to hold ’em, know when to feed ’em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your diapers when you’re at the changing table.
There’ll be time enough for countin’ when the poopin’s done.”

Ok, that was way less hard than I thought it would be.

Yes, this is about right!

I don’t admit this to everyone, but I might as well come out about it publicly. It’s one less skeleton in my closet to expose when I try to run for public office. Because THAT’S my next logical step.

My very first concert was Kenny Rogers. There, I said it. Sawyer Brown opened up for him at the Capital Center in 1983 and I was there. My mom had a friend who used to take me to events… I never really knew why. Maybe she wanted to be a “big sister”. Maybe she wanted to try out having a kid before she had any of her own. All I know is that I would get an invite to all sorts of things- A Christmas Carol at Ford’s Theater (2 years in a row), The Nutcracker at National Theater,  a Redskins game and Kenny Rogers. This also meant going to The American Cafe or The Old Ebbitt Grill in DC- where I would inevitably get the chili. This was also incentive as I really loved chili. While I loved music already, I was all about going to any concert, especially since I hadn’t been to a real one up until this point. Kenny Rogers was far from my first choice, but I have to say, concert on a school night? Yes, please. Chances are I hadn’t done my homework, and I probably wasn’t going to anyway.

Ha! Well here is the concert t-shirt! How beautifully 80’s.

I have to say, while I only knew a few songs (The Gambler and Lucille being most of them), it was an eye-opening evening for me. The lights- the sound system- so many people in one place to see one person. It was pretty amazing, and really got my dreams going. So, thank you, lady who took me places. And thank you, Kenny Rogers. But please, for the love of God- no more plastic surgery!

No more! Stop the insanity! You don’t look “better”, you just don’t look like you!

Back to this evening- he ate from 1:30am to about 1:50am, had a pleasant diaper change, and he went right back down. Good for him, I just wish I could go back to sleep that easily. I figured after trying to sleep for an hour, I might as well just try to stay up til the next feeding, and by then I’d be tired enough to get back to sleep. We’ll see, it’s approaching the 4 hour mark. Dag, I could have been sleeping all this time!

He’s stirring over there… the grumbler is in action. Listen as he stretches and groans and tries to wake up. Watch as he moves around, making his cradle rock, keeping him just on the edge of waking. This is better than Animal Planet.

For some reason I thought there was already a channel called Baby Planet. I guess I was wrong. Maybe there should be?

Well, it’s now 5:35am. I knew when to hold him, knew when to change him. I didn’t have to walk away or run. I didn’t count any diapers when at the changing table, he drank his bottle, and the feeding’s done.

He’s already gone back to sleep.

Now the question remains…. can I?

Rainman Tendencies

I think I used to be a regular person. I held a job and played in a band. I had a lot going on most of the time, and I liked it. So, take all that away, insert a baby, and what’s left to occupy my attention? Not much, apparently, because besides rocking back and forth, whether I’m holding a baby or not, I find myself counting. I count everything.

Definitely counting how many times I rock back and forth. Definitely.

It started with the amount of sucks the baby would take while breast feeding. We had so many issues with his stopping and starting and pretty much snacking all day long, I would count the number of times he would suck before I would have to flick him to wake up. When we first started, it was every 16-18 sucks. It slowly dwindled down to every 3 sucks. Suck, suck, suck….. flick. Suck, suck, suck…. flick. All day, every day.

1…2…3 sucks and a flick!

Then I realized I was counting other things, like rocking back and forth (that’s like a double-whammy Rainman- rocking AND counting the rocks), counting my steps, and counting the tv channels as I go through them on the remote control. I’ve even caught myself counting, and I don’t even realize I’m doing it- or what I’m even counting. Turns out, I count my breaths also. It’s crazy, I’ll notice around “26” or so… “26, 27, 28….” Did I start at 1? Because I don’t remember starting to count anything.

Wait, when did I start counting??

Clearly, my mind is searching for some sort of stimulation. July was a REALLY hard month. Besides trying to recover from a C-Section, I also had a terrible breast infection that I just finished 20 days of antibiotics TODAY. I had an abscess that had to be aspirated twice. Once that drained (it took a good week and a half) it was downgraded to my good old friend cellulitis. What a horrible ordeal. It hurt so bad that it almost completely eclipsed my C-Section recovery pain. It was so sensitive, if my hair fell down on it, it absolutely killed. It was so hard to even hold Patrick on either side. Even holding him on the non-offending side opened me up to him kicking the offending side. It. Was. The. Worst.

Even Simon agrees. The worst.

But today at my check-up, turns out I’m FINALLY all clear. He will want to see me in about 6 months to be sure I’m still clear. I’m happy to close the door on that one.

Since I have finally been feeling better, I’ve been able to take some walks, go a few places and start practicing again. I found it impossible to sit down at the piano and get back into my routine, but a last minute gig booked for August 10 has inspired me back to the keyboard. I found that I have NOT been counting other extraneous things since I started back up. Turns out, that even though I’m not conscious of counting when playing music, when taken away, that counting energy has to go somewhere. So let this be a lesson to me…. don’t stop playing music, or you might actually go mad.

Amen!

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