A Collings Guitar in Every Pot

I would like a new guitar. But don’t tell Jasper that. He needs to feel like he’s the Alpha Guitar in our house, and as it stands, he is. I don’t really think any guitar could take his place as he is the guitar for all seasons and body types – he’s complimentary to every figure.

But if I had money to burn, I’d get a Collings and have it custom made. I don’t want to offend any Martin lovers here. I’m not an anti-Martinite. My dear Jasper is of Martin blood. But a Collings guitar has the sweetest, the most lush sound ever. Hearing a Collings is like taking a bite out of rich milk chocolate with a squishy, creamy caramel center. Not surprisingly, they have a sweet price tag. If you’re going to get something nicer, why not go the whole hog, I say, and get a Collings?

When I get my Collings, it will have all the bells and whistles on it. It will have a built-in coffee brewer and GPS. The case will have an insulated compartment for a 6-pack and a pull out Coleman stove for those times when I find myself stranded in the middle of nowhere or I just want to have a good ol’ time.

Okay, I didn’t say that Collings is the best guitar in the world. I just want one. You have your Gibsons, Martins, Breedloves, Guilds, Seagulls, Takamines, Taylors, etc. I’m not technically proficient and I don’t know everything about necks, nuts, bracing, tuners, blah blah blah. There are plenty of people who hold that kind of knowledge in their brains so that I don't have to. I just know that I’ve played a few and it was love at first strum-de-dum-de-dum.

Some day when I’m a big star
I’m gonna own a Collings guitar
The nicest one that they can make
Pinch me so I know I'm awake
Oh life will be much sweeter
When I get my supersonic-SJ-cutaway-abalone inlay-not gonna put it on layaway-it's no beater-tops out the awesome meter-6-string Collings guitarrrrrrr!

Mirror Wisdoms: When Yes Means No

I used to have a friend who was a jazz saxophone player. I say "used to" because I'm dead to him now. But that's another story entirely, and not really relevent to today's topic.  Anyway, before I was dead to him, he shared with me many, many unsolicited facts about himself.  One particular fact I found notable: he liked to write down sayings, quotes,  regional colloquialisms, etc. in a tiny book that he carried around with him. As he traveled around the country, he wrote down anything that interested him for future reference. He often felt compelled to share quotes from his little book with his friends.


I love quotes.  I like to cut out little motivational/inspirational revelations I find and tape them to my bathroom mirror so that I see them every morning. I tape them to my computer screen. I write them down and carry them in my pocket - little affirmations to float me along the on current of my day.


A while back, I happened onto a tidbit that was really helpful. (Unfortunately, I don't know the source - I only remember it was from an  unconventional place).  Wherever it came from, it was something I really needed to hear and still need to remind myself. Therefore, it's currently posted on my bathroom mirror:  

When you say yes to something,

especially something that takes your time,

you're likely saying no to a host of other things by default.

Leave yourself open to saying yes

to the opportunities that really matter.

I tend to be a yes yes yes person. I feel guilty saying no no no. At least, I did before this little cheese curd of wisdom came into my life. So simple, and so profound -- the mirror hath spoken!

No Time on My Hands

Time, Time, Time

See what's become of me

While I looked around for my possibilities

I was so hard to please....

- from Hazy Shade of Winter by Paul Simon

 

 

I think about Time all the time.

I think about how I never seem to have enough of it. I think about how it's a finite number for all of us. Time. It never stops, never sleeps.

Time has such mystique - it's so elusive: I can never find it. What is this Spare Time I am always hearing about? 

Make these amazing potholders in your spare time!  

Pfff! Spare Time, it is a myth, a fable, I tell you.

Apparently, if you do not have enough time, you must then somehow make Time. I’m always trying to carve out a little piece of it, or make better use of mine. Most importantly, you should never, ever waste it, lest someone yell at you:

We're burnin' daylight!

Don't dillydally!

We're gettin' nowhere fast!

Time's a wastin'!

Now, there's an hour of my life I can never get back!

I’ve heard of people having too much Time on their hands, but I have yet to experience it myself. People who have too much Time on their hands create elaborate models of the Santa Maria, the Nina, and the Pinta out of toothpicks. They manicure their lawns with mustache scissors. They paint graffiti on large expanses of concrete. They gather at a friend’s house, drink a lot of liquor, and leave the empties all over the lawn. They crochet potholders out of multicolor yarn and gift them to family members for Christmas. Too bad there isn’t a Time Bank somewhere that could accept donations. Then people like me would go to the Bank and get some.

Of course, best kind of Time is Free Time. Free Time! When you have Free Time, you can do whatever you want with it! When you have Free Time, you are rich with possibilities. The world is your oyster because you have all this time in which you shall accomplish wonderful, soul-satisfying things.   It is during my Free Time that I can write, or paint, create or…vegetate.

Ah, but this Free Time must be used wisely. You only get so much of it  -- unless you are a gypsy. Gypsies, as we know, frolic and cavort all day and all night with no regrets. But for most of us, Free Time is a coveted, sought after, and closely guarded jewel.  And it’s scarce. It’s in short supply. 

I am horizontal as I write this blog. This is called “dovetailing” -- a skill I first learned about in a High School Home Ec class. I’m combining two tasks in order to make the best use of my Free Time. Even as my mind and my hands are writing, the rest of me is relaxing and vegetating. No small skill.

 

 

 

 

 

Girl: Interrupted

How frustrating and annoying it is to get sidelined by a simple everyday malady such as a cold/flu/sinus thing! I’ve been hunkered down in survival mode since last weekend and it’s getting old.

For more than a week, I’ve felt too tired to get on line and do the things I need to do. I haven’t written songs or poetry, and have barely answered emails, checked my bank balance, or paid the cable bill. Meanwhile, my list of unGoogled items grows longer by the minute.

Because you see, there are things I must Google. And they are things that have nothing whatsoever to do with my art or work. At any given moment, I am carrying around a mental list of things that I need to look up for informational purposes. In addition, there are things I need to Google just because they are there.

Here is a partial list, in no particular order:

How to repot a plant that has been in the same pot for 10 years.

Should you repot a plant that has been in the same pot for 10 years.

How to tell if you are a plant abuser.

A recipe for apple slaw

Is Kim Kardashian’s butt real?

How many calories in a corn meal muffin?

Corn meal muffin recipes

Why does my cat groom himself excessively?

Is Beyonce & JayZ’s baby wearing a wig?

Did Beyonce use a surrogate?

What are these minute red bugs I see from time to time?

When is the best time of year to prune your shrubs?

Sinus headache acupressure points

How to get rid of corns?

Does duct tape remove warts?

What about corns?

The ultimate brownie recipe

The ultimate cheesecake recipe.

Tamalewizards.com

The list goes on. It could take me another week to catch up.

Little Leaps

"The moment I jumped off of it was

the moment I touched down"

- from Thank You by Glen Ballard and Alanis Morissette

Listen. I want to tell you something. I want to talk about leaping. I have been thinking about it a lot this month because, of course, it's Leap Year and this is the month with one extra day. I want to talk about it because I’m not as brave as I’d like to be. But let’s just talk about it. We don't have to do anything drastic. Let’s get some coffee and discuss:     

The concept of leaping - making the leap, taking the chance - is something that sounds soo noble. So worthy. Soo…….I wanna do it.


After Steve Jobs passed away, I started reading all these great, inspiring quotes of things he had said - about just this sort of thing.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. Steve Jobs

The longer I live, the more I feel a sense of urgency about making those leaps and taking risks.
I aspire to Leap. I want to be a Risk Taker.
But in truth, I am a Dreamer of Leaps.
In these dreams I am brave.  I have vision. I have clarity.


Making a leap sounds like making a big change. A risky, big change. You don’t really know how it’s going to turn out so you have to just go for it. On the other hand, you don’t want to be stupid about it and go off the deep end. Or so the voice in my head keeps telling me. Take for example,  that woman who calls herself the Naked Cowgirl and plays her guitar in Times Square. Now, what happened there? Did she just wake up one day and say, ‘I am CHUCKing it all to become the Naked Cowgirl! I have found my life’s calling!”  

photo by james messerschmidt, ny times

Naked Cowboy vs. Naked Cowgirl in Times Square - NYPOST.com

It would be nice to get some clear signs – like a telephone call or “Leap Notice” but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that. I think the key lies in listening to that inner voice, and really trusting what your heart wants. “Stand in your truth” a friend used to say to me. I guess if that means your truth is becoming a naked cowgirl, then who am I to argue?


In case you – like me - find it hard to make a daring leap, I have devised a compromise.  I take little leaps. Even with little leaps, after a time, I can look back over my shoulder and see that I have put distance between where I was and where I am. And maybe someday, I’ll make the Big One………….
More coffee, please.



Co-Writing: Not For Sissies or Wood-Nymphs

If you hang out with other songwriters, sooner or later the suggestion to co-write will come up. This fascination with co-writing used to completely mystify me, and repel me all at once. My friends would take on a soft, rosy glow as they spoke of it. They would get all dewy-eyed and clutch their hearts and speak of how it changed their lives. But it felt contrary to my process and my instincts. I wanted nothing to do with it!

I’ve co-written a couple of times at workshops, and it was hard for me. I’m stubborn and I always want to use the lines I write. I am not the queen of compromise. But I’ve been feeling like maybe I should try it more, because I think trying things that are outside of my comfort zone can help me grow as an artist.

My process for writing is normally very unstructured.  Picture someone sitting in their jammies, guitar in hand, laptop open. When I’m working on a song lyric, I usually get to a point where I am stuck. I might have to get up and walk around for a while, and disconnect from it until a line mystically travels through several distant galaxies and breaks through the ozone to trickle down into my head. YES!  I have always been willing to wait days, weeks, months – YEARS for the right word or line to take its rightful place in a song.

But when you co-write, such a process will not do. It will not do at all. Instead, one must employ discipline (ugh, hateful word). Discipline! Pah! I am a gypsy! A wood nymph! A forest sprite! I dance through the woods, gathering my words on gossamer pages! I cannot be shackled or fettered, or tied down to such a restricting practice!

Co-writing – I have discovered – is not for sissies. In addition to discipline, it requires immense courage. You’re vulnerable. It’s scary to go out on a limb with a line, knowing that someone can whip out their chainsaw and cut it off, sending you crashing to the ground. And for me, it’s hard to be diplomatic and nice and not grab my own chainsaw too often.

More importantly, it takes practice. If you want to get better at it, you have to keep working at it, keep trying. I just completed a co-write on one of the songs for my CD project.  It didn’t feel natural. I had to struggle. I had to wear my regular clothes and not my pajamas. But I hung in there, and the song is going to be better for it – a stronger song. And THAT is the best reason to consider a co-write.

Love Me, Love My Hair: A Post for Big Hair Lovers Everywhere

Before I even got out of bed this morning, I was thinking about titles for this blog. And the mind - at 6:00 am - is particularly brilliant and inspired – or so it would seem at that moment. Those blog titles were flipping by like flash cards. 

I Belong to the Big Hair Club

Big Guitar, Big Hair

Big Hair is Sexy

Channeling Amy Winehouse

Two hours later, that bubble of brilliance has popped – and almost all of those titles have disappeared. I had planned to fill my blog up with titles, without ever getting into the mentality of someone who espouses the philosophy of “No Hair Too Big.”

A few years ago, my sister and I went to see Art Garfunkel with the KC Symphony. Our seats were pretty far from the stage, and  Art was just a tiny figure far, far below. We couldn’t make out his face at all. What we agreed upon after the show was that all we could see was a giant halo of copper hair! One has to wonder, had he not had big hair, would we have been convinced that he was really there?

Big Hair ensures that you will not be missed, I guess.  

Reasons why. I. Love. Big. Hair:

It’s fluffy.

It gives the illusion of more.

It’s fascinating.

It’s a statement.

It’s sexy. If it isn’t, why do I own hair spray called, “Big Sexy Hair.”

It creates a boundary which should not be crossed.

It distracts attention away from the imperfections of the face.

When Big Hair is not a good idea:

At a job interview.

In a movie theater.

At the pool – if you intend to get it wet.

Near an open flame

Of course I’ve seen people take it too far!

Yes, yes, I realize that huge hair can be an extreme statement. It can be an indication that something’s amiss. ……….Or a-missin’. But judge ye not too harshly, my friends.  You know the old saying: Love me, love my hair......