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meeting Tom today at coffee & company/white mountain (at Coffee and Company Kingston)

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Out in LA where we met @shorty2u2 and Oscar :) (at Los Angeles, California)

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New York, when we walked to Central Park (at New York, New York)

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portraits of a newspaper ad, taken in the hotel room in Pasadena (at Pasadena, California)

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The Beatles Complete Chord Songbook

Yesterday morning, my friends and family were on my mind. I thought to call my mum & Lowell and my dad & Lou. When I got distracted, I wrote a song called The Solo Man. After about three hours I realized that the chorus was the chorus of Soul Man by Sam & Dave (with an extra syllable).

I went downstairs to pack my things. My first instinct when packing is to bring my life, and I spent two hours experimenting with folding in wait for the dryer to finish. I thought about last night. 

Andy and I had a little debate about Canadian Dairy’s use of supply management and Donald Trump’s comments concerning. We did some research. I still don’t know that much about dairy. I read some Wikipedia entries about Russia’s annexation of Crimea, and NATO’s planning to build a base in Poland, and about the massacres in Kosovo on the bus in the morning. I sat for a while and thought of that while I folded my clothes on the floor.  

I left home with Elan’s pink Jansport and a black canvas bag from Loblaw’s, reached the King Mart, bought cigarettes and picked up cash, and walked to the bus stop. I saw my reflection in the window of the 710 headshop, and the matching pink of my backpack and headphones. I like this matching. I do wish it was with a less bright colour. 

I picked up a medium coffee with two cream, then walked toward the 502 stop. My parents were about two cars away from the intersection when we saw each other. They drove us to a path that starts near Bath & Centennial that they’d walked before with Sochi, that follows a river a ways toward Andy’s house. When they dropped me off at Andy’s house, I got tears in my eyes. It’s been a long time since I left my home and the people who live there. 

When mum & Lowell stepped out of the car, the colour of their sweaters jumped out at me - her sweater the pink like the Jansport and the little headphones, his sweater like my coat. It would have been a nice picture, it kind of made me feel complete for a second. 

I’d mentioned to mom that I planned to buy The Beatles Complete Chord Songbook because of the things that made me start writing music: that book, The Paul Simon Songbook by Paul Simon, and Mr. Lepage’s grade seven music class, and my first guitar: a mini red Squire Strat that Lou and dad gave me when I was twelve.

Mr. Lepage taught music in two ways: one as the frustrated conductor of a bunch of thirteen-year-olds, one as a man whose real passion is music, and wanted to share its history and genius with the world. He loved French Canadian music. He also taught my grade eight history class, and like Mr. Frühling, my favourite French teacher (shout out to Mme Poulin and Mme Yari, great French teaching), Mr. Lepage said that the only way to keep a language was to immerse yourself in its culture. 

In that class, I heard the oboes in Around This Corner by Sarah Harmer, the story and some of the songs from Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and When I’m 64 for the first time. Up until that point, the only way I’d heard When I’m 64 was when my dad played it for me when I was a kid. I would sit in his guitar case because it had a soft inside with grey fabric, quite comfortable paired with a blankey, and he would play When I’m 64 and You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away on his acoustic guitar.

When my sister and I were at our mum’s, she would play Oh What A Beautiful Morning from Oklahoma!, I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry by Hank Williams, and a French song about chickens that went: 

C’est la poulette grise Qui pont dans l’église, Elle va pondre un petit coco Pour Nadia quit va fair dodiche Elle va pondre un petit coco Pour Nadia quit va fair dodo,  Dodiche, dodo.

when she put us to sleep at night. 

My dad still has the same copy of The Beatles Chord Songbook that I used when I started writing back then. I asked him if I could borrow it - this way I wouldn’t have to buy it for the trip. He brought it to me on the way to the gig he was playing in Kemptville, an hour and a half away from Kingston. We had a hug and a goodbye. I might only look at the book once; I’m just happy it’s with me. Like watching Larry David, or deciding which recipe you’ll use from a beautiful cookbook. It’s a little piece of what I’ve done for a long time, and it came directly from my dad. 

It’s odd to think of a forty-two day stretch as a moment in time because of the sleeping that separates the days. I did a lot of listening during that moment. 

The analogy is dark, but bear with me: 

The company I used to work at, Channel 3 Communications, Inc., looks over Lake Ontario. It was last year on an overcast day in spring that I saw a raven attack a starling in midair and snap its neck as it flew away. I couldn’t avoid looking at it - it was down a path I needed to take. I had to get back to work, lunch was ending. 

Last week on Tuesday, I was looking out the window of Al’s truck while he and Andy were inside the shop. There was a shiny, large cockroach shimmering in the sand of the empty parking lot. A raven flew down and stood behind it. It would peck, then look away as the bug would scramble. Peck, then look away, until the cockroach was dead on the ground. The raven took it in its beak, stood for a moment, then flew away. I had the options to stop or ignore this.

The past forty-two days have been like this - letting moments in music happen without stopping or ignoring them, and knowing when to follow them when it’s right. It’s moments like the first, that you're forced to look at, that might be the most difficult to see are happening to you.

Not all of the accidents will appear as vivid these did. Like seeing my parents, their sweater colours and watching the ravens, remembering lessons from school when the knowledge was needed, taking three hours to write a knockoff of Soul Man. I was listening. If I hadn’t been listening to my instinct, just to watch, I wouldn’t have seen what was going on. 

Yada yada yada, it’s all very philosophical. I like writing about it! 

We leave at 3:30pm from his house - we spend Sunday driving to and spending time in Ottawa. We’re going to New York on Monday at 6am. 

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A Watermelon

It’s been 41 days since I left my job. It has gone quickly because I spent a lot of it working. I finished a play with Riot Theatre at Queen’s, and it was wonderful. I went to two parties where there were mostly women and it felt wonderful. I spent days writing by myself while Andy went to work, and I would join him after that, and it was wonderful. I got to watch him play Assassin’s Creed (and I got to whale some whales, which was both great and disturbing on multiple levels) and the beginning of Mass Effect. Days I spent with Cliff (Fabri), who has actually helped me change my outlook on life, and whose presence is influencing my music in an incredibly positive way. We spend a lot of time in his garage talking to his neighbours and our memories, and he jabs me all the time. My skin is thicker, and I feel very good about it. I am optimistic, and very afraid.

I am going to New York with Cliff on Sunday and LA on the following Sunday, and there we’re going to work with a number of creatives on music. Just music.

Just music, like it’s only music. Just music, like it’s the only thing I need to work on. Just music, like for the job, I’m supposed to study and listen to it all the time, it’s all I have to do.

My dad, when my sister and I were young, said this:

‘Work hard, do your best, have fun.’

This may have translated itself into:

'When you work hard and do your best, you’ll have fun.’

For a long time, I interpreted this as something that I might only apply to work and projects. But knowing that this next year could be a life changing experience, one that changes the dynamics of a lot of the relationships that are a part of who I am, there’s no arguing: both statements should apply to the relationships that I have with the people that I love.

So I’ll do these every day, and then I’ll make it as part of a team who I also love, and acknowledge in everything I do. No amount of work or honing of discipline can replace connection with my family, friends, Andy, and my future collaborators.

My dad suggested that I write a blog to record my experiences while I’m away.

So a blog is a good idea, because I really do want to share what I find, especially because it seems like my life is about to really surprise the fuck out of me.

It’s very mysterious, like bracing to shake hands with an iceberg on Sunday, or the moment you handle a watermelon (deciding to buy one is a special occasion) in the grocery store. You don't know when you'll eat it, maybe. But you're either banking on the fact that it will be good based on your past experience with the insides of watermelons, or you're banking so that you won't crash into an iceberg.

I'm going to assume from here on out that this whole thing is like a watermelon, and that when it gets cut open, it will be satisfying like only watermelons are. This watermelon might even have a tasty, tasty rind.

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#criminalmicrowave

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#blue

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#DOMINATION #gg

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#corners vs #ootd

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#forever21

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[ #beauty ]

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#ripcarrie

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[ we're Miriam Temple, and we're playing tomorrow night at the mansion - $5 - Doors at 9 ] #miriamtemple #crazy

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[ smoking cessation ] #worstcasescenario

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[ workshop at Yvonne's house ] #misery

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[ thank you @tonedeafkingston for a great night! My butt almost fell out ] @elleseeoh