Monday was a brilliant day in Ottawa, I went on a 7KM walk following the Rideau Canal and returning downtown via Bank Street.  No one was skating on the Canal, It’s just been too warm these days, warmth for which I am grateful.   The days have seriously lengthened, we’re getting close to the end of that tunnel called winter.  I left home at 4:05 which would have been darkness only a few weeks ago.

I went down Metcalfe, turned right when I hit the parliament building, then down to the Canal.  I’ve been feeling this need to walk, walk, walk, lately.  I don’t recall spending so much time indoors and not being physically active.  I followed the canal for a little over 3 KM as the sun was slowly sliding down the western end of the sky

 

 

There is a short window of time, when the sun hits the horizon, when the light is just amazing and brings the scenery to life quite dramatically.

On my way back I landed at Bridgehead coffee… if you come to Ottawa you MUST try their espresso.  I am a complete addict…

Saturday I played my first “real” show in Ottawa.  I was invited to play at the Winterlude for a half hour set at 7:30 PM.  I played in a bubble, that was a first too.  I was really looking forward to the experience and it was great. I mean, there is nothing like getting good sound, good support and play an actual show.  Here’s what it looked like :

the MC presenting me...

 

in blue

 

in purple

 

closer...

 

farther...

 

from the eyes of a child

 

Afterwards we went to celebrate a birthday at a pub down the street.  It was a pretty perfect night.  And the long week end went by, sunshine, music, good cheers and all.

These days I am working on putting together a tour for next summer.  I have dates in Vancouver and Winnipeg, I need to book Alberta, Saskatchewan and Northern Ontario.  I am planning to take the bike, the Go guitar and minimalist gear and present the Aventuriere Accidentelle show (accidental adventuress)  I never really got a chance to present this music and since my new album is nowhere near ready at this point I don’t want to just sit around and the time seemed right.

I am trying to book things in French communities but I will do whatever gig comes my way, in larger cities I can hire side players to play bigger shows and on the Canadian highways, it will likely be a solo act.

So if you think you could get 10 to 20 friends in your home, I could do a house concert.  I come to play in your home, we can share the music, the fun and a night with friends.  In return I would get a minimum donation per guest and accomodations for the night.

It could be the motorcycle club, the neighbors, the French community, you get the idea.   If you think you can get 10-20 people or more to come for a special evening let me know, I will be on the road between the end of May and end of July.
well that is it for now, hugs and talk to you soon.

 

a west coaster in the snow and ice

traces in the snow

 

bicycles in the snow

 

sidewalks in the snow

 

plants under snow

 

Bank Street under snow

 

riding in the snow

 

evening home in the snow

 

side street in the snow

 

view of the snow from my window

 

ice too, this is the iced tree

 

iced wild flowers

 

iced signs

 

icemerizing

 

b-ice-ycle

 

icy road

 

ice sculptor

 

ice horse

 

show in the ice, inside a bubble

 

good use of ice

 

ottawa in winter

 

these cover December, January and a little February.  Winter is a strange thing, awful but awesome in it’s magnitude of extremes.  I had forgotten winter.  The cold, I still can’t bear it, but there is indeed wonder in the frozen lattitudes.  A thousand shades of white to gray to blue poetry.

Hello, hello my friends

It’s been a long time. Life dictates. I apologize for the silence.

wanna ride?

I now have spent 6 months in Ottawa, I saw the end of summer, fall and now winter. A winter I had fully, completely, totally forgotten about. It was a bit of a roller coaster ride where I went from wonder to anger, and at times, getting the feeling of being so incredibly far away from anything remotely close to something I’d call home. At the same time it exposed some things in my own world that I was forced face or otherwise feel miserable for what seemed like eternity.

'Twas a cold winter night

I was confronted with the question : how to be at peace?

The last year was an exercise in frustrations.  I was turned around, turned back, denied and I tried to be graceful about it.  To accept, to see the blessings…  Sometimes I did well.  Some other times I just completely faltered.

During my travels, my Peace was pretty much a constant. A sliding scale of wonderment, excitement, meditative periods, challenges that strengthened me.  On a bike you are in the Now, in the Now you are at Peace. That “Nowness” made me infinitely happy. It made me feel I could die right there and all was right.

To witness the land unfold before one’s wheel, this impossibly beautiful earth with its sunsets, full moons, starry nights, flowers, scents, winds, blasting sun on the desert sands, impossible greens on the spring hills… That gave me peace, contentment, a sense of absolute, a sense of being a fiber in this rich fabric not more or less important than other fibers a sense of infinity.

 

gears

So how do you recapture infinity from the vantage point of an apartment window at the 11^th floor of a building in downtown Ottawa?  Was I doomed to be living forever in regret, in the past, to long to be back on those roads and not finding my way to them?

“It’s all illusion.  It is what you make of it”

What I make of it.

Responsibility.

So, now what?   I’ve been practicing my guitar a lot. . It’s ground zero at times because I am pushing myself hard, challenging myself, my skill level.  I have been jumping into new material, new exercises and the stuff is humblingly tough.  But I am improving and that’s what matters.  In a manner of speaking I am learning more vocabulary, which will make me better at expressing through the music.

I’ve also had meetings with a couple of different music industry people, just to get a different perspective. But mainly, what I am starting to get is a sense of how I want to do this. My main thing has always been that I want to play, create, perform.

hot to cool

I am feeling an inspiration. I have a bit of a plan, but of late, when I have plans they get blown to smithereens so I don’t want to put too much intensity in them. I am planning to get a busking license, to play in the Ottawa Market. If there is a thing that this trip-adventure taught me about myself,  it is that I need to just do and be what I am.  Busking is in some ways the purest way of being a musician and being yourself.  I used to be terrified of the idea alone.  Now I think it is going to be essential to do that.

I would like to find myself  on a tour to Vancouver this summer, a solo motorcycle tour to perform my French album Aventuriere Accidentelle to the French communities across the country.  I’m imagining this with visual projections of images of travel and possibly a narrated track of the story.  So I wouldn’t have to talk too much to explain what is going on.

Another one of the inspirations I am starting to feel is to try and prepare to go overseas for a motorcycle-music tour. I’m dreaming of Europe, Norway, Turkey, Greece, Spain, Russia if that was ever possible. To go there and perform but also learn and discover new music. Gather all sorts of data, photos, adventures, wind and full moons… Mountains, new faces, humanity, eternity… Imagine what could come out of that… It’s possible. Anything is possible,

“It’s what you make of it.”

It is how far, how much, one is willing to dream up.

But even if none of that happens, I am right now on the right road.  I am finding the Now, from the 11th floor, without the bike, which is sleeping in for the winter.  It’s a constant process.  Reminding myself to be, to breathe.  To open my eyes.  Be amazed at all this crazy mosaic of a life in the 21st Century on planet earth.

In the mean time, Leo stays warm with Turkish hand made socks

Birthday thank yous

Thank you.

Yes, thank you to all of you for being.

I woke up energized this morning.  I was very thankful for that as some days I am still dealing with health issues that leave me struggling to find the energy to open my eyes, so this was a great gift.

Today is a bit different, it`s my birthday.  Not that I’ll do anything outrageous, but somehow, I’ll treat myself a little special and won’t be so hard on myself.  So, I went out for coffee, to my favorite place : Bridgehead.  The coffee shop gets full at lunch hour with office workers on lunch break so you have to share tables wherever a seat is available.

 

I asked this lady if I could sit at her table and she said yes.  No one has ever said no so far, but the correct etiquette is to ask.  I had plans to work on a song after reading the daily news.  I find the coffee shop atmosphere conducive to a sort of “concentration in the noise”  as if working at home by yourself in silence made you more self-conscious.  But my work plans got quickly derailed.

 

turkish coffee anyone?

I ordered my double long espresso, sat down,  enjoyed drink and read.  And that is where it happened.  The lady across the table said :
“What kind of coffee drink is this?”

“Double long Espresso.”

“Oh it looks so good with the creamy part on top…”

“This place makes one of the best long espressos downtown and I am a coffee addict!”

We started to chat.  I haven’t had a chat like this with a stranger in quite a while.  This conversation made me smile very widely.  Her name was Irenny, (Body parts she said : ear and knee, she volunteered that as  a memory trick!)   We had such a good time, we talked art, feminism, coffee, life…

I can’t begin to express the joy it gave me.  Sometimes, moments like this give meaning to your existence. Just being.  Sharing.  See through someone else’s eyes for a moment.

My birthday being in December, is always a bit of my time to look at the year that was and the year coming, a rehearsal of sorts for the New Year’s reflexions and resolutions.

One of the wishes I received today went like this :

“ I send you love and wishes for continued adventure in the flow of your heart’s desire.”

ADVENTURE

FLOW

 

the flow

The flow of your heart’s desire.  It stopped me in my tracks.

Wow.  How profound.  How right.  How simple.  To find my heart. Wash off all the fears and the uncertainties and the defensive blindness that cover it.  Ad-venture to go where I have not dared going before.  Magic will appear.  I know it.
So, once more thank you for your love, your friendship, your strength, your understanding, your beauty.  Thank you for traveling with me.  You are my birthday gifts every time we reach out and connect.

 

adventure

 

 

 

Rumi’s words reaching

 

December first,

Once more I get this “how can this be?” thought about the speed of time flying by and all of the coincidences that got me to sit here on the eastern side of the continent awaiting the next snow.

Time… it seems to go so fast, then so slow. It vanishes yet stays with you. Like the ocean.

I can just see myself…. 80 years old, sitting at a keyboard somewhere, somehow wondering how I made it so far, looking back at the long thread of  life, still patiently accumulating days like knitting an endless scarf of so many colors.

Last night I read Rumi again. Rumi is a sufi poet, philosopher from the 13th century.   Every time I read Rumi, my heart lifts. He touches upon something I have been hunting, searching for.  Through his words, I glimpse into the grail…

On the road I approximated the quality of being he talks about I felt the hand of the Gods guiding me, I wasn’t the director of the movie but a vibrant, exalted actor deeply into the performance grateful to be a part of the cast, in a conscious trance, approaching a sort of imperfect perfection, finding peace in the current that carried me. Being exactly where I was meant to be without engineering every single move.

 

I have not been on the bike much at all lately, I have been closer to our well organized, cyclic, somewhat frantic societal grooves. What some would call REALITY.

Well… To be honest, and more accurate, let’s say that I’ve been orbiting fairly close to REALITY.  I’ve not landed and settle on it’s shores yet.   I’ve had the luxury to observe and ponder. Where do I go now?

Rumi has a poem in which he talks about the 4 birds one does not want to be : The rooster of lust, the peacock of wanting to be famous, the crow of ownership and the duck of urgency.   Sounds like modern society.

So as I loop around the earth at altitude I ask myself : what will I do when I land? Do I have to land? Or can I launch deeper into the far reaches of unknown galaxies?

 

More to the point is what can I dare dream? I have seen it over and over: what you believe, what you think acceptable, inevitable, is what happens to you. Good or bad.  It is a sick feeling indeed that you feel, the moment you realize that all was in your hands. The deck, the plays, the hits and the misses, they were all yours all along. To SEE, to realize with such vividness the simplicity of it and all the games you played with yourself not to SEE, to be right, to be blind. It is hard to swallow.  I remember such a moment.  The magnitude of it.

I wonder where should my steps take me?  What should I do?  But maybe a different question should be brought forward :  How open can I be so as to let my fate unravel unimpeded?

 

All my judgments, fears, pre-conceived notions, expected outcomes… Can I dismiss them? Can I be so open as to let magic flow through me without questions?  Like accepting curves and changes….  No, no, not accepting; willingly welcome them.  Like swiftly riding a bike on an unknown mountain road without touching the brakes, leaning forward and in the curves, trusting, hands light on the bars…  That is closer, truer.

At one time I had stopped playing guitar for almost 2 years. I was done…  One day, I was invited to play on a tour, I would sing my songs and also accompany 2 other singers on guitar… I went back and forth then said yes with a mantra of contributing, I was going in there not worrying about how many tickets, albums, seats we sold, if people liked me, if I was good enough… I was just going to contribute to the band, the show, the music, to load the van, set up the gear, be humble and help all around. Just contribute.  No ego.

On that trip, one night as we played this gorgeous venue I had a solo on a fairly intricate jazz song. I launched into and it happened. I disappeared. I mean the ego disappeared, I was a conduit. I felt the bolt of inspiration, of knowing going through my mind, hands, instrument and out into the world, it was a glorious moment of abandon, of unexplicable Truth.  The music was so beautiful. Real.  I had been touched by the Gods of music. I’ll never forget that. I believe it happened because I had surrendered.

I believe life can be lived like this. I know it can. There is just so much magic out there. If I can only just let the fear go, let the waters flow, so I can once more just be a molecule, or as I had written in New Mexico, a speck flying in perfect synch within, without and inside and out of this universe.

Game on.

First snow.

“Danielle! Come here!!”

 

I put down my guitar and ran towards the balcony.  The opened patio door let in frigid air that wrapped around me before I even got outside.

 

“Look!”

 

White. White particles descending diagonally through the sky and down on the city. Snow. The first real snow fall this year. The neighborhood is hushed. The evening is lit by the crisp white particles.  There is an orange hue caused by the street neons reflected by the gazillion flakes coming down. They are dry and skinny, not like Vancouver flakes who usually come down as fat, wet conglomerates of flakes partying their way down to a relatively warm ground. Here, on the already frozen ground, once they land, the flakes rush around, pushed by the wind looking like white mirages, fleeting, ever changing.

 

I kept looking out from time to time to tabulate the accumulation, snow keeps coming down, reconstructing the view for us. This white delivery causes excitement, wonder.  Especially at night. The sonic environment changes as the high-end pitches get EQ’ed out, the world muffled.  It’s as if the world was suddenly all ears, paying attention, it’s differences and edges get blurred and erased.  A new exciting world, a place to be the first to step into, like a brave explorer on a new continent.   That is of course before you have to actually go out in it, before it turns to wet gray slush, before you have to shovel, strain your back and curse the stuff.

 

Well there is no turning back. Winter is coming, well actually, it’s here!  I keep hoping that it will be a mild one. I read last week that Ottawa was going to get a milder winter this year, something to do with the planetary wind currents.  I’m all for that.

In the morning I came out of the building, looked around. Snow melting. Bicycles left to fend for themselves, chained to a post, their tires buried in the whiteness.

I walk. It’s still fairly cold. The sidewalk is covered in a rainbow color thin layer of petroleum product. I’m suspecting it came from the sidewalk-cleaning tractor. They were out last night, very soon after the snow started.  At regular intervals I could hear the hum and the scrape of  engine and blade. I thought of all the people who make a living from the snow, they were probably all smiles. Right now, the soles of my boots have stiffened from the cold. Each step the sound is brighter, brittler,  my feet roll a bit, as the soles do not relax completely, held back by their frozen, stiffened molecules, it feels a bit like walking on plastic plates.  I guess I’ll need “real” winter boots.

I stopped to take photos and stepped in the snow. Immediately the cold penetrates the leather.  I forgot how real it is. I think of the homeless people who tried to find a warm spot last night. Around here, you don’t dream so much of spending the nights under the moon. You’re grateful for the roof, the warmth, the turtle neck, and a perfect hand knit wool  sweater.

Other than that, I’ll have to winterize the bike soon, riding time is over.  Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends as we head for the rush towards Christmas, New Year’s resolutions and parties.  The volume of junk mail is expanding daily, the commercials are all red and white and the store windows getting all festive.

 

Hard to believe…  we’re already at the end of this year 2011.  It wasn’t at all what I had planned. Big disappointments but also some major gifts from the Gods.

On this 200th post, I thank you for being there for the ride.

Talk to you soon!  Stay warm!  Love life.

 

 

The SMIM and the underrated value of silence.

 

I spent the last week-end in Montreal at the SMIM conference (an organization for independent musicians) The whole two days were filled with conferences, demo critique session, music showcases, music industry related booths offering their services and enlightening us with what they do and of course all the indie musicians who would be attracted by such an event.  They even gave us a cotton re-useable bag, a recycled paper notebook with the cardboard pen-highlighter and a download card allowing one to download music from the acts doing showcases throughout the week-end.  And to top this, there was a small espresso machine available for you to make your own drink, fresh Montreal bagels, fruits and meats and creamed cheese to nibble on between events. Wow All this for $15!!

 

My first event was a “stage presence” workshop at the Gesu, a magnificent venue just south of Ste Catherine Street, a cathedral that was transformed into an art mecca with multiple conference rooms, a large concert room and lecture rooms. Pierrette was our teacher. She has worked for years within the acting world at the Quebec theater school and is now working as a stage presence coach with the Cirque du Soleil artists.

 

Via play and games, we explored our relationship with space, with our fears and with each other.  The main goal was to get out of our heads and thinking to be into the now with full capacities and awareness.   For me revelations came right away, appearing in front of my eyes with each exercise. It was tremendously exciting to see so clearly. What was also tremendous was to witness the seven of us going from a somewhat introverted, self conscious stance to a fully expressive and curious attitude.  The shoulders loosened, the heads came up, the stares became confident, we were suddenly all game to try anything, to laugh and to open to the moment. It was simply brilliant.

 

the ceiling at the Gesu

Then I was off to the Place Des Arts where the other half of the events were taking place.  Alice and the Intellects a quartet of musicians delving into a mix of jazz-chanson-experimental sound were showcased, the guitarist was particularly brilliant.

Alice & the Intellects at the PDA

Then it was time for the Demo Critique session. We had to submit one song to a panel of 4 industry people who would then listen to one minute of the song and give a critique of what they heard.

I have seen this type of thing before and usually it consists of discussing the form, architecture and lyrics of a song and sometimes a few words about production. This was a bit different. For some songs one minute of listening was not quite enough to understand the whole process or structure or even quality of the work so it turned into a more personalized session between the artists and the panels about career, industry, sound, mixing or production issues.  Whatever came up was tackled.

My song came up third to last. Sitting there I was starting to hope my song would not be picked.  I had chosen a song from my French album which was released in 2005. I felt I had to bring a French song since I was in Montreal… but I soon realized a lot of artists in Montreal were presenting English material… So I could have presented a song from the upcoming album…

 

They called my name, I walked up to the microphone. They played the excerpt.

 

“So when was this released?” a panel member asked.

 

“ 2005”

 

“You haven’t done anything since then???”

 

“No, no, I have composed music for plays … I am finishing up an album now…” There was no way, in a few minutes to explain the process that brought me to today and to bring this specific song..   As I stood there it hit me that insecurity was actually part of what had dictated my choice of song.  Revealing.   There were some comments about my evolution as an artist and how I should have brought something more current… I explained :

 

“I have been on the West Coast for the last 22 years, I am new here and I am trying to figure out how to approach the industry. I thought that I had to present something in French since I was in Montreal…. at this point my main concert is that I am trying to figure out what to do to restart my career in a whole new world and I’m not sure what to do.”

 

Then one of the panelists offered : “ Find someone to help you package what you have accomplished to date into something fresh, use what you already have along with the new materials and present it in a new updated form.”

 

He went on with more suggestions that totally made sense.  Funny how sometimes you can’t see what’s right in front of you.  The panel went on to compliment my voice, the originality of the music, the sound and production.

What this made me aware of for the second time in the same day was how one has to assume at all times what they are and what they do. My head was so full of apprehensions, of fear of not being accepted for what I am or what I do.   I have been the one closing doors. The fear of rejection made me reject myself.  There is a great sense of liberation once awareness occurs.

Turkish coffee at the end of the day

The next day, more events. I headed back down to the Gesu and had a wonderful conversation with a fellow artist I had met the previous day.

 

Gesu at night

“It’s about silence” he said. “We don’t have silence anymore, we are bombarded by sound everywhere, in the elevators, in the malls, on the street, with the I Pods, the radio, TVs. Sound has been completely devalued because there is too much of it.”

 

As I listened to him, a memory came back to me.

 

Oregon. I had been on the road for 4 days. Camping, riding all by myself. No TV, radio, computer. Just the road, the engine sound and my thoughts. At the end of a long day of riding I had pulled into the town of Bend. I rolled downtown and saw what seemed to be a promising place with good food and free Wi Fi.

I parked the bike, grabbed my bag and my laptop, crossed the street and walked in. There it suddenly was. Music. Sound. Artfully organized sound vibrations reaching my ears, my brain. Ecstasy. Aural joy. It took my whole being, my brain fired up as if it was powered by endorphin based fuel. Totally blissful.  The music was like a life saving food.  It nourished me.  It was absolutely amazing.  I could not recall ever feeling so electrified, fed or uplifted by music in this way ever before in my life.  

Yes, he is right. Not enough silence to actually appreciate sound, music. If we turned everything off for a even just a day then went to any quality concert, we would be converts for life. We would likely worship that music and its makers. He compared today’s over-saturation of sound with eating non-stop. At some point nothing tastes good.

Silence….

then

Music.

 

His idea totally moved me for I know it to be true.

 

The rest of the day was filled with other special moments. Now I have much to mull over and organize in terms of where and how to progress with my music.  The business, the new album, the live show, who to work with and how to find them.  Integrity with my ideas, processes and artistry.   Thanks to this event I have a better sense of the present music scene and what I need to do next and I feel invigorated.

the how not to introduce your next song with "my next song is" workshop

 

This music industry is in a deep process of re-iterating itself. Many of the panelists, being adepts of independent music and artists conceded that the indie world and the mainstream music industry are two different worlds, that most of the old business paradigms are collapsing with the advent of the computer and internet based technologies.

A new era. Democracy in music. As any democratic process it’s messy, complicated and time consuming but in the end it’s all up to you. At the event one of the most comforting statement that kept coming up was : “Keep writing, working on your craft, get better because in the end the most important factor in this equation is the quality of the song, the depth of the artist.  The cream still and always rises to the top.”

As for the cream, my spirits rose.

So I’ll take a moment of silence to hear, to focus and to feel the muse before I get back to my guitar.

 

Hugs.

 

driving by Parc Lafontaine

 

 

 

 

 

 

Music dizziness… urh… business… A rant of sorts.

songwriters in the round, Vancouver

 

Well, lately I’ve been working on “upping” my presence online, finding opportunities and trying to develop my music career.  With an upcoming album, the need to find bookings and make contacts so to evolve my career is acute.

What I am noticing is that the music business is getting pretty expensive.

Everyone from Sonicbids, to the “free” Supernova contest, to the conferences, contact rooms, to the bloggers, the venues, the agents, everyone wants money from the artists.  Every single one of them.

 

The ‘free’ contests ask of you to furnish fans, who in return,  must furnish personal information, online sign ups and the like.  Where does that information go?  Who knows?  Venues will ask you to pay anywhere from $5 to $30 to apply for a possible shot for a spot in an event.  A lot of maybes for your hard earned money.

For example Sonicbids is a website claiming it booked 80 thousand gigs last year connecting bands and venues.  For its service Sonicbids requires a monthly or yearly membership  so the artists can access online listings.   Each listing in turn will ask $3 to $30 per submission so you have a chance to apply and cross your fingers.    In the last month I have spent a few hundred dollars on such things.   So far nothing close to a gig or some sort of return has appeared.  It’s early I know.   With Sonicbids, if the venue or opportunity responds to your submission it is considered “booked”.  Some of those listings are obvious money grabs.  Think of it : offer the “possibility” of an album review.  Ask the artists to pay $5, (a low enough amount to justify giving it away to chance, like a lottery ticket)  multiply this money times thousands of artists hoping for some press, review one album or two and the promoter can pocket the rest.  Convenient.

Of course one has the choice to be discriminate and not participate in such things.  But what gets me is that this is common practice.  The outrageous “pay to play” that we used to hear about from shady LA club promoters 15 years ago has become the norm, common acceptable practice.

To add to this, many if not most of those gigs warn you that there is no pay available for the artist. It’s the door or the hat which means YOU have to fill the venue if you want to be paid.
The internet was to be the great equalizer for artists.  I think of it more as the great bulldozer.  It is now considered somewhat “immoral” for artists to actually want to sell their music for money or to simply put a value on their work because of the download phenomenon.  Most would never consider not paying for a pack of gum simply because the gum company has sold a lot of them already…  Heck, most people are willing to pay very high prices for T-shirts made in China for 4 cents as long as they are found at the Gap or some other outlet with a name.  They would never consider not paying their mechanic or dentist.  And they would still pay a tip to a bad waitress just because…

Being an artist these days seems more and more like a popularity contest that has little relation with the work or substance being offered.   Popularity bolstered by the amount of “likes” number of “views” and “listens” garnered online.  We are statistics freaks, there is nothing like the satisfaction of seeing a graph line go up no matter what it’s about or what the implications of the up trend actually are.  I think we have become slaves to marketing.

Maybe what I am seeing online is only the veil masking or distorting a deeper truth or real, actual  possibilities.  I am hoping there is some substance below all this mass marketing tactics coming from the graduates of the music business schools of this world.
In a conversation with a long time friend earlier this week, we talked about the artist.  How being an artist, a creator is more a fact you live with than an actual job description.   It’s a way of life.  It’s a quest.  I’m not sure how to (or if I should)  merge this deep personal artistic quest with the number of  ”likes” on my Facebook page.
Interesting thoughts.  In the mean time, I got a hankering for grabbing my guitar.

Rock on.

Answers.

Clarity.

 

In whatever doses, clarity is always welcome. From darkness to light. Clarity.

 

To finally see the shapes and forms of a world formerly hidden or masked.

 

Clarity.

Yesterday I got a shot of it. It was initiated when I went for blood tests. Since April I had been trying to get a full physical, in Vancouver, I saw 3 separate doctor’s offices trying unsucessfully to obtain a full physical exam as I had some serious concerns.    When I finally saw a doctor for all of about 4 minutes she told me that I was getting old.  Who is to argue this inconvenient truth?

 

Yesterday something tangible was finally announced : hypothyroidism. After my initial reaction of “I knew something was up!” a second reaction of “I am now officially defective”, my third reaction was one of relief at finally knowing why everything felt like walking in an interminable underground tunnel with nothing but a small flicker of light here and there. The symptoms I felt had an actual cause.

They say take the little pills and in a month I should be back to normal. Cool.

 

Other than that, it’s been warm this week here in these Northern parts and this is one chance to wash Beowulf, which I’ll do tomorrow. Cool.

I will soon be moving into a new apartment, a place to call home. Cool.

 

We’ll have a heated, indoor garage for Beowulf so I’ll have my bike close to me, dry, warm and protected. Cool.

 

With this stability established for this winter I now can formulate and activate what I intend to achieve over the next 6 months or so.

I am blessed. I thank the Gods for all the gifts. I keep moving.

All my love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let it take you there.

I flipped through this tabloidy news paper called 24Hr, one of those free rags that have proliferated over the last few years in Canada.  I always find fun ready the horoscopes trying to find some sort of divine coincidences.

Today it said : “Sometimes you have to let the current take you, rather than fight to exhaustion.  You could end up at a better destination.”

It was so timely I shed a tear.  I was hit earlier today with upsetting news, a financial matter I wasn’t expecting and brings unwanted stress….  and of course this is the sort of unsettling event that becomes the springboard for a full on deep dive into the murky waters of insecurity, fear and self loathing.

Oh my guilt.  The guilt to exist, to be alive, to take too much room or not fit in.  Too big, too small, never good enough.  Can one ever feel peace inside this human hide?

Oh this world.  All the rules, the walls, the conventions and shoulds and woulds and the vast crater between what one wishes and what is.

Sometimes life seems as pointless as plowing a patch of high desert.  First the horse dies at the plow from dehydration and malnutrition then the farmer kills himself because  he can’t feed the family.  But then I’ve been in the desert and I’ve seen what 3 drops of water can do.   Implausible miracles happen.  Myriads of very tiny plants come to life, barely visible and bloom,  impossibly beautiful.  Poignant.  Irrefutable power of life.

 

out of a seemingly dead twig springs beauty

 

Maybe then, our tears allow for desert flowers to bloom and blow our minds, maybe it’s all worth it.

 

 

The temperatures are diving down, I will need a winter coat, I will have to put the bike away, life has definitely taken the curve and is now coming out of it on a new vector.  It means I’ll have to store the bike very soon for the winter.  I’ll be walking.  I’ve not “not had a vehicle since I was 20 and I’ve never stored my bike.  Since I’ve had one, it’s always been there for me to ride, rain or shine.

No bike, think of that. The faithful partner in hibernation, tucked away.  I am just hoping for the thermometer to stay above freezing for at least this coming mid November week end… I am planning to go to Montreal for the SMIM, an event for independent musicians with conferences and workshops. I actually managed to get into a stage-presence workshop presented by the Cirque du Soleil people. But that is 18 days away. We could have snow between now and then. I am wishing for a warm week end so I can brazenly zoom one last time down some sort of highway before putting Beowulf to sleep for the next 3, 4 months…  OMG…

 

Otherwise, I have been busying myself trying to get out of this non-existence state I’m in right now. I have entered 3 songwriting contests : the John Lennon contest, the Song of the Year contest and the Radio Star talent search. The songwriting contests have these dreamy grand prizes of gear, equipment, home studio deluxe set-ups… winning that would be like making any music geek drool with envy, the ultimate music rig come true. There is also music industry connections to be made… this would be welcome to say the least.

 

The Radio Star contest is going to require fan voting in order to get into the top 50, a popularity contest of sorts for which I’ll have to beg and plead for votes from my friends, your friends, their first and last born and everyone in between along with any long lost half cousins living in the Netherlands or the No Man’s land.  In short : anyone, everyone with an internet connection…

Details to come.

I’ve also signed up for a songwriter’s conference at the Canadian Music Week in Toronto in March. Hopefully I’ll learn something, be inspired, fired up and maybe I can make some meaningful connection. So far my attempts to find gigs in this town (besides the open-mics)  have failed miserably, falling on deaf ears, vanishing in email inboxes or drowned in the void of some voice mail account that no one answers.

 

I’ve been practicing my guitar a lot though, I even managed a few days with 4 hour plus sessions last week, the callouses on my left hand fingers are getting deep and polished. I’ve be reworking some songs, tunes I had written with the band Leoffenders and this has been going well.

 

And on a separate but very actual stream, I’ve also been dreaming of buying this South American hand knitted wool hoodie that must be a half inch thick from this hippy dippy store with Indian, Nepalese and South American clothing and incense. It bears cool old fashioned knitted designs and the inside is covered in soft, plushy, fuzzy material. They wanted $100 for one of those…  that was too much…  then last week the store posted a 20% off sale sign in the window… Maybe it’s time to go get it, no matter how light the wallet is because the temperatures are supposed to drop below freezing this Thursday and I could smile, all toasty inside my hoodie.

 

And one last piece of good news…. Perry, the producer who has been working with me on my upcoming album has received an award for “best produced independent blues record” for a blues recording he worked on just before I went in the studio last March. Maybe it’s a good omen for our record.  Maybe that is the course of the current I must accept to follow.

 

Well I should run.  I love you all. Miss you all.  Stay warm.