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Not That Kind of Conservative

Posted on 10 November, 2012 00:30 by amber Comment

I’ve been thinking a lot about when to be generous and when to be conservative in my life. And here’s some of what I’ve sorted about where I either currently stand or where I think I ought to stand.

Be generous when:
Tipping my server
Seasoning my food
Showing love to those who matter to me
Shining out what light I have

I also apparently believe in generous amounts of bright makeup sometimes…

Be conservative when:
Deciding whom and what to give my time to
Giving my trust
Giving up my privacy

On a similar track, I believe in:
Dreaming big whilst not losing track of reality.
Giving everything I can to the people and things I believe in whilst not bankrupting myself (in any way).
Letting myself fully relish my loves and joys without neglecting my responsibilities.
Giving frequent, sincere compliments/praise and being thoughtful about offering criticism.

When do you dive in and when do you walk away? Cos I think that says a lot about a person…

(Because I know I’ll be busy all weekend getting ready for the show, I’m getting this ready Thursday night and telling the app to publish it for me early Saturday. Hopefully, you’re reading this at that time…Otherwise, I swear that’s what happened and I’m sorry it’s late…)

📂This entry was posted in inspirations & influences pondering
“Everything’s going jackanory”

Posted on 28 October, 2012 19:48 by amber 2 Comments

What was I doing instead of posting a blog?

I was watching Post Adolescence (fronted by original Varnish bassist Johnny Straube) dress up as Elastica (though I think Johnny ended up looking more like the lovely Brian Molko–except tall–than he did Justine Frischmann…pretty no matter which way you see it, of course), play a seriously great set, and win 3rd place up against bands playing songs that were better known to the crowd. Go boys (girls?) go!

Here is pretty Johnny/Justine/Brian.

And us girls who were out to see them decided we’d dress as Blur. It just made sense. And it, apparently, also just made sense that I was Alex James. Here’s the only picture that really turned out…

Hope that, if you aren’t dressing up for some fun this Halloween, it’s because of something other than trying to be cool. Cos you know what’s really cool? Not being too cool to be silly and have some fun. Trust me; I used to be way too cool and serious for my own good. Let me recommend the lighter path, unreservedly!

Apologies to anyone looking forward to another long, pondering post. Rest assured, I’m still full of ponder. You’ll have your satisfaction later 😉

xxx

📂This entry was posted in artist's life
It’s a Trap!

Posted on 13 October, 2012 19:57 by amber Comment

In the discussion of Nature vs Nurture (are humans shaped by the nature they’re born with or the nurture of what happens in their lives?), I’ve always figured it was a mix of both things. The analogy I always use is that each of us is like a gem stone. Our nature is that chunk of stone. Our nurture is the chisel that determines our cut or the tweezers that put us in a setting. In good news, there are a couple of key ways we aren’t like those gems.

First, we’re conscious (even if some of us sometimes feel dumb as rocks…haha). This means that we are not just passive victims to the chisel and tweezers. We can wield those tools ourselves; we can choose how we’re cut and where we’re placed to some degree. Sometimes to huge degrees. Don’t like what you’ve become due to the circumstances of your life or where that’s led you? You can do something about it. And that’s not just because you’re conscious…

Second, we can regenerate bits that got chiselled off. When we don’t like our cut and want to change it, we don’t just have to keep whittling ourselves down to nothing and to tiny gems that can barely be seen. Life beat you down and you feel like you lost some trait you like? Chances are good you can act to get it back, to change which facets of yourself are shining out there.

Why is this on my mind right now? Not just because, as some of you have noticed, I’m big on taking control of and responsibility for your own choices and life and never just letting yourself be a victim. Big on always working to be your best self, even though we’re all going to fail at that sometimes.

Nope. I’m thinking about this right this moment cos I was asked an interesting question in email. The context was the ways in which our natures and how we’ve been nurtured can make it hard for us to rise to opportunities we’re given or to do some good that we’re asked to do. The question asked was this:

“Do you ever feel trapped in your own personality?”

Yeah, about that personality of yours…

In context, I find it a fascinating question. Are there ever times I don’t feel like I can re-cut my facets to do all I want to do? But pulling it out of context, there are more questions, including another way to understand this question. So, here’s a list of questions I’m pondering that came out of this…I’m not going to give you my full answers (or even answer all of them) because I feel like the answers would be long and maybe a bit too inside my privacy zone. But I think the direction my brain goes says something about me. And it gives you a little something for your own pondering…I don’t know about you, but I love good, meaty questions to ponder!

Do you ever feel trapped in your own personality?

Are there ever times you don’t feel like you can re-cut your facets to do all you want to do? (This doesn’t include the ways that money or time or opportunities limit you. One thing I will say here is that, when I feel anything like this might be holding me back, I try to evaluate what it is that makes me think I can’t do something. Is it really some bit of character I lack or can I take actions that, whilst difficult and outside my comfort zone, will let me do the thing? A lot of times, the answer to “I’m not the kind of person who does/says Thing,” is as simple as doing or saying Thing. Both good and bad. And when I just do the Good Thing, even if it doesn’t feel comfortable or it scares me or something, I get to live with the pleasure of knowing I did/tried to do it. Just like I’ve had to live with shame the times I just did the Bad Thing even if I wasn’t that kind of person…And then I try not to do that again. There are plenty of actions that aren’t limited by my personality, only by whether I allow myself to be held back the discomfort my personality causes me to feel about such actions. That cuts down on the time I feel trapped by my personality in this kind of context.)

Are there ever times that the personality you’ve built as your public face (or even as something to hold to in private because that can be easier than true self sharing and/or assessment) holds you back or makes you feel trapped…as if it’s making the choices for you or as if you’ll lose friends, family, supporters, respect, etc if you change it or set it aside? (Fortunately, I haven’t really done this since I was a teenager…)

Do you ever feel trapped by the person you are trying to be (even if that person is a positive thing)?

Do you ever feel trapped by who others expect you to be?

Do you ever feel trapped by who others think you are? (This can include both times they’re just plain wrong about who they decided to believe you are and the times that they think you’re still someone that you used to be but no longer are. It seems like the latter is more likely to happen the longer you know someone.)

Are you ever trapped by who you incorrectly think others are or by not being willing to see if you’re incorrect in who you think they are?

Do you ever feel trapped by who it is you think you’re supposed to be?

Do you ever feel trapped by the demeanour you think you’re supposed to have?

Do you ever feel trapped because your personality is at odds with what’s considered normal?

Do you ever feel trapped because one of the facets of your personality is something strong that inclines you toward making choices or taking actions that are harmful to you and/or those around you? (To be clear, if this sort of thing is going on, I never believe it’s okay just to stop fighting it and just accept it. I believe in working to make sure the other, better facets are the ones in charge. I believe in working to be conscious of the unwanted facets and resisting them. We all have flaws, demons, struggles. And fighting against them is, in itself, revealing a better facet of ourselves.)

As I ponder and journal and let this batch of questions squirm around in my brain, I’m sure more questions will occur to me. Cos this brain never spools down…But I reckon this is enough for most people who want to get all ponder-y. So, happy pondering! And best of luck staying out of the traps and being a pretty, shiny gem stone.

xxx

📂This entry was posted in pondering
Dancing Queen

Posted on 22 September, 2012 01:31 by amber 1 Comment

I was a dancing queen. For a while there, I never missed the chance to dance all night. And, by all night, I mean I’d show up around 9pm and dance until they kicked me out at 4am. I wasn’t there to socialise or flirt or drink. Water and the occasional “hello” were the only things likely to pass my lips. I danced.

And I didn’t just sway. I didn’t just shuffle. I moved. I dove into the dance.

A good night was one that ended the next morning, drenched in sweat. Muscles worn. Scars on my feet and ankles that didn’t go away entirely until I’d been away from the dance floor for almost a year.

I was raised on dancing. That’s what we do in my family. From the time we’re wee and barely able to stand on our own, we dance. When one sibling didn’t plan for dancing at their wedding, we pulled a car up close enough to give us music and we all danced anyway.

I always say that music has to move me or make me want to move or I just can’t give it a chance. The other night, I didn’t even like the music I was overhearing, but I found myself moving my head and swaying a bit anyway. Just like I’ve accidentally found myself getting emotional over songs that really weren’t my style but had lyrics that hit just right.

I think it’s in my genes. Or I was socialised into it too early to know that it was nurture, not nature.

Whatever it is, I just know that dancing is a deeper fall into the music. No surprise I fall into music, get lost. But when my body gets added in…It’s like worship, meditation, transportation to a whole other place.

If I’m celebrating, it’s one of the best ways I know to throw in my joyous energies.

If life is beating me down, it’s a whole other state of being where all the troubles and hurts pour out, just for a moment, and I’m outside of them.

If the music I’m hearing (at a show or a club) is good, if it moves me, it’s like full-body applause. (And if you’re at one of my shows and you dance, that’s how I see it…)

And if I’m putting on a show for you, the dancing on stage is me committing to the songs I’m giving and their emotions. It’s part of the emotional integrity of the set. And as I draped over a yoga ball doing vocal exercises the other day, I found myself wondering what it would be like if I someday didn’t feel moved to dance whilst we performed. Not even to one song. And I don’t see it. I can’t see not at least swaying, swinging my hips, nodding my head.

So, at the end of the day, when I assess my music (don’t all creators assess their creations?), I always figure that there’s at least that. I feel the songs. And other people have danced, so other people felt them too. Which I figure means I must be doing okay…

📂This entry was posted in inspirations & influences
I Owe Who?

Posted on 8 September, 2012 19:48 by amber

The topic of what people owe or are owed seems to come up regularly in my life. And the last couple of months have been chock full of the topic.

I wasn’t raised with a sense of entitlement in general. I have always known that I needed to work hard and do my part to get the things I want and maintain the things that matter. And, even then, there weren’t always guarantees. Sometimes, you can work really hard and not get (keep) what you were trying to get (keep). That sucks, but it’s rarely actually unfair (unless some other human actually withholds something they promised you would earn).

In general, what I believe people are entitled to is the consequences (good or ill) of their choices and actions. That they are entitled to being treated with dignity and respect (unless they make choices that remove those rights). There are other things I believe we ought to be entitled to, but I’m pretty sure those things are even less realistic than expecting the whole dignity and respect thing.

But I’ve run across a few things that are close to home lately, and, because this is my blog, I’m going to talk about them. Even if both are potential minefields. (Hurrah! Explosions! We’ll pretend it’s an action film…)

Before I dive in, might I ask that you, should you feel inclined to respond, remember the whole dignity and respect thing? I’ve managed not to delete any comments on any of my blogs thus far, and I’m living with the magical dream that I’ll never have to. Disagreement or debate are fine (hey, I got my degree in Philosophy…I am down with a logical, civil debate), just be your better self when you choose your words. Heh.

First, the non-musical one. The one I can do without worrying about naming names. The one where I can link to someone else’s story as an example and you can decide if you’re guilty of this sort of assumption without me pointing the finger right at you. Excellent.

I’ll say right up front that there are pluses and minuses to all ways of being, that I certainly enjoy the pluses of things about me, and that I’m as wont as anyone to assert that the grass is greener on the other side when dealing with the minuses. I’m also acutely aware that, for those who think my grass is greener, talking about the minuses of the things one might consider generally favourable can seem really frustrating. People rush in to point out the pluses or reassure me that there are pluses if they even suspect my lack of complete enchantment with something I have that they want. So, to be clear, I acknowledge that there are some perks to being a pretty girl. (I also want to note that there are loads of ways to be attractive. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. And what I find attractive only defines what I find attractive.) I’m glad I’m a pretty girl, but…

It ain’t all perks. And the problem is that the non-perks are about other people behaving poorly. I’ve been having multiple instances of that to deal with lately and been mostly keeping my mouth shut…And then a girl posted a blog about her experiences (most are the same as some of mine, but my own “extreme” experience is a different one…equally ugly and scary though) and I think it was my last straw. It would be great if you’d read her post (you know I really want you to cos that’s two links to the same post in one paragraph). I’m not even sure how I came across it, cos it’s not a blog I usually read. But, just in case you choose not to read it…

Basically, in her experience (and mine and others’), being a pretty girl means that there are people most days who feel that it is their right to have my attention. That, by being pretty, a girl creates a situation wherein boys are helpless slaves to their attraction and, thus, the pretty girl owes the boys whatever attention they seek. On a good day, this just means boys aggressively ignore rings on ring fingers, headphones, books, statements of unavailability or disinterest. On a bad day, they can get scary pushy. In her blog post, the scary guy tells her it’s not his fault she’s pretty. As she points out, it’s not her fault either.

Okay, yes, pretty girls could cease to take care of themselves and could choose unattractive clothing and…I mean, really? That seems a more reasonable answer than people just being polite? Just realising that, unless you are specifically paying for someone’s attention (not a date, but an escort service, for instance) or paying to see their body (like at a strip club…or in a movie–though the “owing” ends on the movie screen and doesn’t extend to when you see the person in the real world), none of us are owed the attention. Outside those scenarios, no one owes anyone showing off their body. Etc…

So, if you’ve been made to feel you owe it to others (outside of specific contexts) or that others owe it to you, you’re wrong. If you are in the first group, I hope you’ll find the self-compassion and the courage to reclaim yourself in the situation. If you’re in the latter, maybe you just needed someone to tell you the world doesn’t work that way. This is me, telling you that. And as you return to my whole dignity and respect thing and stop assuming you’re owed, I’ll bet you’ll get better attention, genuine good attention, when someone feels you’ve earned it. A lovely win-win situation.

Still with me? Next, the musical thing that relates. Which is, of course, two pieces. Cos, apparently, I do go on and on…

There’s this strange dynamic between fans and bands (and actors and some others, but my main experience is with bands). It’s so easy, on either side, to feel as if one is owed something by the other. You read or hear stories of fans who aggressively pursue the attention of artists they love because they think their love and their purchases of albums, film tickets, t-shirts, etc entitle them to a return of as much attention as they want. Of course, you also hear about artists who feel like their hard work (or, in sad cases, their pretty faces or just the time they’ve put in whether or not they’re talented) entitles them to success and fame and the adoration of fans.

As much as, in self-serving ways, I’d like both to be true, I’m afraid that’s just more of the unrealistic entitlement nonsense.

Yes, I’d love the hours and dollars and love I put toward artists to magically make them love me back. We could go out for meals and have great conversations…It would be brilliant. Really. But the fact is, I already got what I paid for. I got the album, saw the concert or film, wore the shirt, that sort of thing. And, yes, I do believe (as an artist) that I ought to show appreciation to those who support me (which is why I constantly mention in Varnish things how much I appreciate our fans and why, since we aren’t selling out stadiums yet and it’s logistically reasonable, I try to at least give a sincere “thanks for coming out” to those who come to shows). But there’s a line. And once someone gets bigger, I understand when they don’t hang out at the venue after to talk to me, even if I queued for hours and know every word and think they’re brilliant. Did they play the best show they could? Then I got what I paid for. I don’t even assume, those times they do come out to greet fans, that they’re up for pictures or, if they are, that they want every fan hanging on them. In that situation, I wait. I stand near enough for the photo, but they get to make the move. Arms around me or kisses in pictures? Yeah, they initiated that. (And, for the record, I totally support people like Wil Wheaton who generally don’t do hugs or even handshakes cos they’d rather not get sick. Or people like Nathan Fillion who pre-print cards for cons–a super cool move–because they know they can’t possibly give all the interaction fans hope.)

A sampling of what they initiated…yes, I’m bragging a wee bit 😉

From the artist’s side, of course I’d love if the hours and dollars and efforts I put in magically translated to huge success. “Just achieve this many hours or these things, and you level up. You gain stardom and adoration!” But I understand that there are no guarantees in the arts. I hope that people hear me and love what we do and support us. I work hard because I believe I’m building a great thing. And, yeah, I get disappointed when turn out or response isn’t what I’d hoped. And there are days I wish that my passion was for law or medicine or running a daycare, cos I can point to the steps to get there and you can really get yourself most or all the way to the goal with hard work and perseverance. But those of us who love an art? We have no guarantees. We have fewer guarantees than our fans. (You buy a ticket and get a show…We can pay for services to help promote us and it doesn’t mean more than that someone else is now trying to help us get what we want. Not a sob story; just a fact of what we’ve chosen.)

Now, I’m going to go fulfill some obligations, because I feel like the commitments I’ve made mean that, yes, I do owe certain things to certain people. And then I’m going to work hard on trying to get the things I want. Cos, like I said, I don’t reckon I’m entitled to anything more than respect and dignity and the consequences (good or ill) of my actions.

xxx
Amber

ps Thanks for reading this. It was nice to put it outside my head, and I just hope it didn’t seem too ranty. Maybe it can, instead, inspire us all to be a little less entitled and a little more respectful, you think? I really believe people’s lives can be full of goodness if they spend more time using their assets and working hard and less time feeling entitled and fussing about things that don’t fit their entitled dreams. If this seemed too ranty, though, well…good thing I mostly keep politics out of blogs these days, cos…wow…can I be opinionated and ranty there!

(You can feel free to drop me a line, but I need to turn off comments on this because my captcha suddenly isn’t working on this post for some reason. Lame.)

📂This entry was posted in pondering relationships
No Happy Songs

Posted on 25 August, 2012 02:02 by amber 2 Comments

This last week, one of the incredible bloggers I follow online (The Bloggess) let us all know she’s been struggling with depression. In fact, it’s something that she struggles with regularly and is really open about. What she’s learned, writing her blog that’s a great mix of socially inappropriate and bizarre humour along with some inspiring and very open writing on mental health struggles, is that being open helps people. She’s even built an online community full of people who are supportive…If you’re feeling down and want a laugh, go read. If you’re feeling down and need to reach out, go read and comment. I watched the comments save a life this last week.

And that’s probably why this particular topic (on my list of possible topics…cos I do keep a list…) jumped out at me as I pondered what to write for my blog this week. It’s this little mass of things all around music that isn’t happy. And it will answer a question I never answered before.

Really, there are two questions I’m answering here. Let’s start with the one I never answered. And because I feel like this is important, I’m going to break some of my own privacy rules. Hopefully, someday some way this helps somebody. Because if I can shine some light out, my life has been worth it 🙂

“Why don’t you listen to happy music?”

When I was less on top of my depression, because I’m one of the many who has some depression issues (I’m not going to elaborate here…some other time, maybe…), many well-intentioned people asked that question in some way or another.

“Isn’t the music you listen to making it worse?” was another way it was phrased.

I was always inclined toward the unhappy stuff…the sad, the angry, the heartbroken, the frustrated, the lost, the pining…And, surely, I ought to counteract that by listening to happy music, right?

Some of you are saying, “Right!” Maybe cos you never struggled with depression or maybe cos, for you, that actually worked.

But some of you are shaking your heads, backing away from that advice slowly…carefully…aware of the danger it holds.

You see, when I listened to happy music (I tried…I really did), it made things worse. Sometimes, it was just too jarring. Sometimes, it felt like it was pushing me toward mania. Sometimes, it just made me feel like I was the only pathetic loser who couldn’t be happy like everyone else. That happy music was just nasty razor claws slashing at my little heart and brain as it pushed me closer to the ugly feelings that were already attacking me. It was screaming, scrabbling ants in my brain or the mockery of every popular person at school who was making themselves feel better by putting me down.

In short, really, really not good. (Plus, honestly, music vs physiological factors causing depression doesn’t seem like a fight music can win…So a bit of a misguided bit of advice for a girl whose issues weren’t all in her mind, if you will.)

The one exception, which only worked out sometimes, was if I could dance to it. If I was in a place where I could put all that energy and scrabbling into the physical act of dancing. Even then, it wasn’t joyful, happy, depression-free dancing. It was frenetic and desperate. It was like trying to exorcise my demons. And since a girl can’t literally spend her whole life dancing…And since there’s little release in that sort of dancing (lucky if the release of the dancing balanced out the horrible feelings the music created)…Yeah, not a case for the happy music.

On the other hand, there was the music I was listening to…the sad, the angry, etc etc etc…

To be fair, yes, it did move me to tears or to violence (though, to my credit, I didn’t go out hitting other people or even putting holes in the walls of my room…but I did enjoy mosh pits and I kicked a lot of empty boxes into bits, among other things). But the actions that music pushed me toward actually did feel like a release. At the end of a desperate night sobbing, for instance, I did feel lighter for just a moment. A blessed, blessed moment. (Though, just because it’s one of my little pet peeves about when depression is misunderstood, the fact I was crying does not mean that depression is the same thing as just feeling sad. Very much not the case…)

See? I couldn’t even take happy pictures :p

There was more to it, though. And here’s where I transition…Finishing up answering the first question whilst answering part of the second question.

“If you believe in light…if you’re a positive person now…if you’re the sweetheart you seem to be…if you’re on top of your depression…why is your music not happy music?”

These days, I can listen to happy songs. I mean, I will probably go mad if it goes all silly and chipper for long bits of time…but I have days where the song stuck in my head is exultant…hopeful…happy.

But I’ve only written a couple of songs that are happy songs. The rest are sad, angry, heartbroken, frustrated, lost, pining…

And here’s my two-part answer. Part one is the second part of my answer to the first question.

When I listened (still listen) to the songs that aren’t happy, they help(ed) me. I knew that someone else had felt something like what I was feeling. That many of them felt it and survived it. That they could even turn it into something beautiful. I wasn’t the only one. I wasn’t the only pathetic loser who couldn’t be happy like everyone else. There were others, which meant we…we weren’t pathetic losers. We were just one other kind of human experience. And we could survive it. Sure, some of those who made the songs I love(d) ended their lives. But most didn’t. Most kept surviving. And, oh, they made music. Music!

That music, even when it pushed me to tears or violent actions, made me feel better. It didn’t heal me, but it also helped pull me just enough back from the edge…To quote one of those songs:

“But don’t forget the songs
That made you cry
And the songs that saved your life”
-The Smiths, Rubber Ring

So, one reason I write that sort of song is in the sincere hope that someone (you or someone you love maybe) will find that one of my songs does for you what all those not-happy songs did for me. Cos you’re not alone. You’re not the only one. And, like me, you can find a way to make it through. And maybe, just maybe, there’s music or art in you. You won’t just make it through, but you’ll turn the horrible things you’re feeling into art. There are few greater things one can do…(And even if you can’t do that, you can allow yourself to learn compassion from what you’ve felt…to reach out to someone else, so that we create a chain of people who have helped keep each other from falling into the pit.)

The second part of my answer is a bit more selfish.

Yes, I now consider myself a positive and optimistic person. But that doesn’t mean my depression is gone. It doesn’t mean my sadness, anger, heartbreak, etc etc etc are gone. They aren’t; I doubt they will ever entirely go. I doubt, even if I didn’t have physiological things that tend me toward them, that life on this planet ever lets anyone be entirely free of those emotions.

But I learned, from the songs I love and from all those therapists who suggest art for therapy, that I can turn them into songs, and that helps. It’s like siphoning out some of my poison and turning it (I hope) into the antivenin. Even the belief that getting it out of me and putting it into the world is helpful is, in itself, helpful.

There are other reasons, but those are the important ones. Those are the ones that matter for this post.

What I always found strange was that the right sort of encouraging songs were okay. They weren’t happy and telling me I was broken…They were acknowledging that things were broken but it was worth it to keep fighting…That maybe, just maybe, I was warrior enough. Turns out, I was never allergic to hope, even when I trash-talked it. Maybe that’s why, without meaning to, I left little seeds of hope in most of my songs. May they grow up to big, beautiful trees in your soul. May they bear the fruit that feeds you and keeps you fighting through all the ugly things inside of you and outside of you. Let me put down roots in your heart…

xxx

📂This entry was posted in artist's life history inspirations & influences pondering
Be Still!

Posted on 14 July, 2012 23:44 by amber Comment

As a hyperactive kid, I was often told to be still. I was extra-fidgety and energetic then…And loud, what with the hearing issues. Stillness and quiet were not exactly what I loved. Somehow, I read voraciously and still managed to be non-stop. The worst was “quiet time,” which was what replaced nap time when we got old enough that naps didn’t really happen. My poor mum surely needed the peace…And, even though I was, as noted, a serious reader my whole life, the enforced quiet meant I was dying to go-go-go!

These days, whilst no longer that hyperactive kid, I still tend to be go-go-going. There’s always something I should be doing, and then the list of leisure/social things that I “should” do if not doing one of the “serious” things. (Mind you, I believe that there’s power and good in leisure and in social connections. But that’s not the topic here.) At this particular moment, I am going through one of those extra-busy times. Even if I gave up sleep, it would be hard to take care of all I have committed to (not so much a case of mindlessly over-committing so much as a lot of timelines shifting in an insane way) and all I should do.

But this weekend has found me (and will do so for one more day), not doing any of those things. Doing a lot of sitting where I can’t do the loads of things on my computer, can’t really do any of the non-computer things. And the friend who’s the reason even gave me the option of backing out. But I didn’t.

What?

I had actually gotten through a draft of another entry for this blog (about lessons I learned when I took up a challenge from one of my brothers to try running), and I wasn’t thrilled with it but I was going to post it anyway because it would take the least time to do in this crazy little life of mine…

So, I’ve got this friend who’s a cool artist. Months ago, she asked if I could help her with her booth at a neighbourhood fair. I love to help my friends, and she’s one of those locally I consider family, so of course I was game. That I hate to break commitments, especially to family, would have been reason enough to follow through. But as I sat in the chair, in the quiet of waiting for the next customer, I realised that this was a rare truly still moment for me.

There are other times where I’m still, kind of. But I’m always doing something, aimed toward a goal. I know that I’ll be done with whatever task is at the root of that still-ish moment and moving on in a fairly short time. Or my mind is specifically focused in that time instead of free to wander…It’s still, but it’s not quite the sort of magical still I’ve come to appreciate.

Why do I see stillness as magical?

First, I really do believe that a stillness where you are free (if even for minutes) of other obligations, where your mind can just go wherever and your body is either also pretty still or involved in some sort of truly mindless task, opens you to hear. You can call it whatever you like, but I’ll think of it as hearing my heart or hearing God or hearing the Universe or just hearing (seeing) myself more clearly. Giving my intuition or whatever it may be a more open place to be heard has often led to more clearly seeing a situation or a path I should take, or even just to a more substantial sense of my capability to make it through, of the goodness in my life or the world, or of my own worth.

Second, and equally important, I keep reading essays about the need for stillness or boredom time in order to access your own creativity (whether that’s artistic creativity or your mind’s ability to untangle a problem). As a geek, I always agreed with Buckaroo Banzai that the best insights tend to come in the bed, in the bath, or on the bus. Those times when we are probably as close to still and not actively doing as most of us get.

(My cat should be a prophet and the next Pablo Picasso)

My problem is that, because there’s so much I need to sort out lately, my brain is constantly processing in a very specific way. I’m beating my head against the same lines of argument or reasoning over and over, because that’s the path I see. It’s so ingrained now that even my non-fantastical dreams appear to have fallen into step. And I never just sit long enough for my brain to just stop with that…

So, I found myself sitting in a chair. All I had was a phone with a low battery, a notebook (the paper kind; not a computer), and bits of conversation with my friend (who was also painting and helping customers). There really was no way I was going to accomplish any of my pending tasks. And it clearly wouldn’t even do any good to stress over that or prep myself to do them, cos I had hours ahead of me. I didn’t get bored (I don’t tend to get bored, really), but my brain suddenly found itself in this very open situation…And I realised that this was finally stillness. Finally that “boredom” time the essays had advocated.

I’d like to say I solved all my problems, wrote our next album, and cured cancer in that time. Really, I’d even be happy to say that I solved just one of my problems and wrote a verse. I didn’t. And, you know, that’s okay.

It was enough for me to have a very pointed and conscious realisation of this thing I already knew, now that I’m no longer a hyperactive kid. Being still is useful and invigorating and crucial for me. (Plus I got a few general ideas for band flyers…Which seems to be one of those things that I is less easy for me than a lot of the rest of the band things I do. So, I’m pretty pleased.)

That was day one. Day two, in spite of the fact that the clock is ticking and running out swiftly on a handful of huge things, I found myself just feeling calm, peaceful. It wasn’t until we were closing the booth that I even started to think of all that I needed to accomplish tonight before I was allowed to sleep. And, let me tell you, my dears, that is odd. Seriously, it’s a struggle not to spend any of my usual “still” time just going over what my task list for the rest the day is.

Maybe tomorrow, day three, I’ll solve my problems, write an album, and cure cancer before we close the booth. Or maybe my brain will just enjoy the stillness. It has plenty of sights and sounds and smells that it doesn’t run into daily to sort of poke it and keep it awake, but it doesn’t have to do or solve or accomplish anything. And maybe, as happens with many things in our lives or our bodies, taking this break will let it do better in the few ridiculous weeks that are ahead of it. And, you know, that’s enough for me.

Be still, lovelies.

xxx

📂This entry was posted in artist's life inspirations & influences pondering
What a girl wants…

Posted on 23 June, 2012 17:19 by amber Comment
I once had a conversation with a good friend where she asked, in regards to my musical aspirations, whether I wanted to be rich and famous or whether I wanted to make good music that touches people. My immediate reaction was, “Why can’t I choose both?”

The topic of making money off of making art is one that I suspect will be popular and controversial as long as there are artists, and I doubt anything I have to say would add new points to the conversation. But what I did want to add to my conversation with you is a little about my motivations.

Or, rather, what it is I want beyond making good music that means something to you, and why I want that.

I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t suspect I’d enjoy being rich. And if I could do that doing something I love and not having to give up my integrity (personal or artistic), that would be pretty cool.

But what I really want is this:
- I want to pay for my rather modest bills and “lifestyle” without wondering whether or not I can make it month-to-month.
- I want to have a little extra to give to good causes, buy gifts for loved ones, and support other artists by buying their stuff or attending their shows.
- I want to have enough fans to warrant/fund a tour so I can see my friends scattered around the world when I play in their cities.
- I want to afford to record and release new songs into the wild regularly, because there are fans scattered all over and I don’t want people to feel like you have to be in my city to enjoy my music.
That’s it.
No gold-lined swimming pools or expensive cars.
No bling or mansions.
I don’t even, as I said, have plans to change from my current lifestyle (which, in rough times, can be paid for with an unemployment check).

Here I am showing off my sufficient wealth. I was just swimming around it in earlier.Â 🙂

I want to make good music.
I want to connect with you and, hopefully, make your life a little bit of a better place. (I know music has done that for me personally.)
I want to have the time and energy to give the music (and, through that, you) the best I can, to give it what it deserves. (I make that time now, and push through when the energy isn’t there…I’m not complaining…It’s part of what I do and what it means to do this…)
And, like most people, I think it would be awesome if I could be one of those people whom you point out when telling people “Do what you love and the money will follow.”

So, I’m going to keep making music I believe in.
I’m going to keep putting myself out here (online, at shows) to connect with you.
And I’m going to do that regardless of whether or not I am rich and famous.
But now you know, when you pay cover at a show or buy something from us, what the money is for.
Sorry, not hookers and cocaine. More like practice spaces and recording. Or cat food and rent.
Maybe not as sexy, but you can always write some fanfic and pretend otherwise if that’s important to you. Haha!

Now, time for me to go show support to another local artist. Cos I’m a fan of that 😉
xxx
📂This entry was posted in artist's life inspirations & influences
Doing Time…

Posted on 9 June, 2012 19:08 by amber Comment

Without any ill feelings, I note that I do “everything” for the band. I mean, I’m not the guitarist, drummer, or bassist, but I’m all the other stuff. And that certainly includes all the non-music stuff like booking, promoting, web design, online communications, blogs and vlogs and all the other cogs. I’m not saying I do as stellar a job as a paid pro would do, but I work my little bum off.

And it definitely takes time. On a “slow” week, all the things I’m doing for the band and music easily take at least 20 hours. On an insane week (like the weeks I’m working on redesigning our web site or updating all our online stuff), it easily turns into 80 hours a week. Yeah, seriously.

As you might guess, this impacts other areas of my life. My friends get used to rushed, infrequent Facebook status updates (often something like, “Almost done! I swear I’ll be back soon!”) and my little household probably just feels amazed that everyone gets fed every day.

Crazy, right?

Probably. But I’m sincere when I say there are no ill feelings. Whereas a day job usually feels at least a little torturous every moment, even if it’s working on my favourite type of project with my favourite people. Which means that people who are baffled at the time I put in often become further baffled. All that work on music and the band, “work” being the key word, and I don’t resent it? Hard to believe, some say…

But here’s why:

First, I was raised to know that where we spend our time shows our priorities. I find that, now that I’ve accepted the reality of my priorities and just let myself give the time I need, there’s deep satisfaction and no guilt.

Second, as noted, there is deep satisfaction from putting the time into this thing I love passionately. I might produce something killer for a day job, but it will never impact me on the same level or mean as much to me as what I accomplish musically. When I give this time, I receive all sorts of good stuff in my head and hearts. (Haha! I accidentally pluralised that last word…Maybe I’ve been watching too much Doctor Who lately, if that’s even possible.)

Third, cos I do like threes, Danielle LaPorte noted in her recent book The Fire Starter Sessions that work/life balance is kind of a ridiculous concept that actually has the potential to cause harm. Fortunately for you, she also posted about that online.

So, the question for you to ponder is this: What truly feeds your soul?

And the followup question is this: How can you give more time to that without neglecting your responsibilities? (Sometimes, by the way, the answer is to wrap some things up and decrease your responsibilities. On the other hand, I’d also assert that the answer is probably not to give up responsibilities entirely…I think you’ll have a more fulfilling life if you are striving to take care of yourself instead of just letting others handle that or neglecting yourself.)

Now, I’m going to go spend some time with the man who helped me develop some of my ideas about priorities and responsibility. Cos the people I love most are the “thing” most wont to get me to take a break from happily working on music 🙂

(And, just so you can share in the irony, the reason I chose this topic today instead of a couple others that are as loud in my brain, is that it wouldn’t take as much time to write cos I need to prioritise some other things over the band stuff today. Ha!)

📂This entry was posted in artist's life inspirations & influences varnish
Beyond Bacon Cinnamon Rolls

Posted on 26 May, 2012 02:14 by amber Comment

Yeah, you read that right. I’m going to talk about bacon cinnamon rolls. But what’s really going on is beyond that.

Before we go on, however, a quick note. From things some of you have said, there are at least a handful of folks reading all the words on here, getting all caught up on what I’ve been saying. If you’re one of those and you’ve already scoured the whole site, you might want to know that I’ve updated Where I Stand after an impactful conversation. (The old text is there, but with a strikethrough, so it’s easy to find if you’re so inclined.)

Alrighty, bacon cinnamon rolls. Or, as noted, beyond bacon cinnamon rolls.

Whilst I can be a tenacious girly (and I do doggedly pursue the things I love and desire), there’s this old pattern that plagued me in previous years. I’d enjoy something or want something, and then I’d have a nasty, demoralising experience, and I’d convince myself quite thoroughly that I’d never wanted to do or have it. I suspect a lot of this was tied in with the same ugly voices in my head that had me deep in self-hatred when I was 15.

For instance, I used to quite like to bake and cook. And then I shared a kitchen with someone who was really quite good with the whole cooking thing. That alone wasn’t a problem for me. Hey, I got fed some tasty food and, initially, assumed I’d pick up some tricks. Instead, it was made clear that my skills were laughable and I wasn’t to be trusted in the kitchen. Ouch. (And, so we’re clear, it’s not that I made anything that didn’t taste good…I just didn’t make fancy things or chop vegetables with ease.)

Fast forward, and there I was, content in knowing that I really didn’t care for the kitchen. I’d somehow forgotten the hours spent making all manner of goodness. And I’d have stayed there, except that I have the coolest best friend…Someone who just let me do what I did without criticising and who reminded me of the joy of cooking, as it were. Someone who gave me opportunities to experiment. Oh…that was probably the…what’s the opposite of straws breaking camels’ backs? The splint that mended the camel’s back? Heh.

In the last handful of years, I’ve had the opportunity to discover, confront, and overcome a number of things like that. I love to break through, to reclaim, to blast ahead as a me who is…more a whole me. And, man, how can I not love the best friend and other good people in my life who allow me to be me? Seriously, we should all be surrounding ourselves with good people like that.

Okay, bacon cinnamon rolls, since some of you actually came here to read about that. (Though I fear all you’ll learn is that I am not a seasoned food blogger…)

See, last Sunday, out of the blue, I kept thinking “bacon cinnamon rolls.” I hadn’t read about anyone doing that at that point. It was just suddenly knew it must be a good thing. And, though I planned to do a quick look online to see what I could learn from others, I was going to make tastiness one way or the other. I’d already sorted out the cinnamon rolls. (Another story, but first I sorted out my mum’s cinnamon rolls, and then I sorted how to modify them to be made with sourdough…I’m an experimental girl!) I knew I could make bacon on the stove or in the oven. Yeah, I could do this.

And I did. And I took pictures. Because I’m jealous of all the polished and fabulous food blogs. I won’t give a recipe here, cos it would vary based on your sourdough starter. And cos I did what my mum used to do and made some things up as I went. But I tried three different ways, and maybe it will inspire the bakers among you. Or at least inspire you to sort out what thing you used to want that you let yourself be pulled off track from and you’ll go for it again. Or at least make sure that the people you keep close now are the sort who lift you and let you be you instead of stealing joys.

xxx

Mostly pictures from here, with some text and some reviews of the finished products. I reckon you could just use one of the methods below with your preferred cinnamon roll recipe (even if your “recipe” starts with buying tubes of pre-made cinnamon rolls you’ll bake yourself).

It all starts with this goo in a jar.

And then you mix in some basic ingredients…

Bacon for variant #1.

Bacon for variant #2 and #3 getting crispier.
(Yeah, I oven bake. With good reason. Please save arguments against that method for when I’m so famous that I’m bored with regular interview topics…haha)

These would be the normal filling ingredients…

And these would be the hand-crumbled bacon bits to take these beyond normal!

Variant #1, which was what I found online, just involves laying less crispy bacon on the filling and rolling it up so each roll has a piece of bacon. I was dubious…

Forgot to snap variant #2 until I was rolling…You don’t unroll once you get going! This variant involved sprinkling a ridiculous quantity of bacon crumbles on after I sprinkled on the normal filling and before I rolled.

This is the version I don’t think got a fair chance. So I’ll have to make bacon cinnamon rolls again just to try a different method for incorporating the bacon into the dough. Oh, the tragedy…(Variant #3 involved me mashing bacon crumbles into the dough itself before I put on the normal filling and rolled it.)

Note: The bacon cinnamon roll version of “licking the bowl” is “eating unused bacon crumbles.” Yah!

And here they are, my various attempts, ready to rise before baking. (I made a few plain rolls as a “control” group. Because that makes it sound like science!)

Good thing I took a picture of frosting ingredients….

And of the finished frosting, because it makes up for the photos that should come next (at least in terms of quantity of photos…)

There should be a picture of the pan coming out of the oven.
And then there should be a picture of the pan, frosted but undefiled.
And possibly a single shot of a yummy cinnamon roll fresh from that hot pan.

But by the time they were done baking, the smell alone had removed all thought of what “should be.”
The camera sat idly by as we frosted and consumed…And I came to my senses at this point. (Okay, the awesome conversation didn’t hurt in distracting me either.)

Yeah, so there were only 6 of 16 rolls left at this point…Oops…

And how did they do? (I mean, aside from clearly being so yummy that the pictures were neglected…)

Fresh from the pan, here’s where people landed (at least those who thought to comment beyond grabbing another roll):

Of the one with the crumbles rolled in with the cinnamon sugar (variant #2), Taster 1 said, “It tastes like Christmas morning.” In short, magically delicious (but not Lucky Charms, which would be what my Christmas mornings often tasted like…).

Taster 2 had a bit more to say…Absolute winner for Taster 2 was the one with the crumbles in the dough. The other two were about equal. And we reckon the only way to have crispy bacon would be to add crumbles on top after baking. (Taster 2 was really hoping for crispy bacon…but did love these enough to consume multiple in one sitting and take some for later.)

I liked them all, but agree with Taster 2 that the best flavour came from the one with the crumbles in the dough (funny, since you may recall it was the one I didn’t feel got a fair shake due to technique). Though I’d only done the version with the single slice rolled in because the other blogs all loved it and I thought it would be the worst, I think it was my second favourite. As with the others, it all had to do with flavour balance. Least favourite was crumbles in the filling. Still tasty, but found the bacon taste was inconsistent for some reason.

Now, to tuck the leftovers away and see what one more mouth thinks of them in the morning!

(I did try one of variant #1 when it wasn’t piping hot. Still tasty, but not as tasty. I suspect variant #3, the winning variant, would fare better, but I had already promised it to someone else so I can’t tell you. For now, I can simply recommend devouring them whilst warm…)

Feedback from one last mouth. At this point, we’re dealing with reheated rolls. Taster 3 enjoyed them all, but found variant #2 the tastiest. So, the votes for best (from those who voted instead of just eating with gusto) are split between variant #2 and variant #3, but no one would turn down variant #1 if offered (and that’s the one that is easiest and found on multiple other blogs).

You know what that means? Aside from the fact it means you’re probably good to make whichever variant you want, it also means you might need to make and try them all. You know, just to be sure…

Someone who heard me drooling over the idea of bacon cinnamon rolls last Sunday suggested rendering the bacon grease and using it in place of butter in the rolls. I didn’t have time to play with that idea this time. I guess that means I “have” to make more bacon cinnamon rolls. Local friends, perhaps you will be subjected to the next batch of science. Nom nom nom!

📂This entry was posted in food pondering relationships