You may be wondering how my voice is, since, after all, that is the intention of this bloggidy blog.
Well- it is still present. Tried, but 6 weeks later my speaking voice is quite strong, I sound like I did years back, no hoarseness and I think in 2 weeks I will be able to set up my first show!!!!
SCARY!!!!!!!
What I will say is this has been quite a ride and it has forced me to change direction in a major way. I don't know if I will find my way back or if i will continue to move forward, but I am not sure how I will shape up now that I have "healed." Who ever knows what they'll do next? I am starting to realize that thinking big may not be as efficient or even as meaningful as thinking small, step by step and letting the wind carry you a bit....
Who knows where it will take me....
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Faith, continued....
Soooooo......
Dean and his technical Jew status threw him for a loop and I suppose he could not handle it. And to be perfectly honest I was quite unsympathetic to the whole plight. I am not the best person to, say, teach a person something. You certainly would not find a photograph of me next to the word patient in the dictionary, no sir.
And when it comes to Judaism, for me, it all seems just so obvious. I have been bred this way and I have been bred around other people who have been bred the same way. There was no teaching involved. My understanding of God came at such a young age that I no longer had to understand God in order to understand the rules I lived by, the practices I kept, the practices I chose not to keep, that tendencies my family had that were typically "jewish," the holidays I celebrated and the life I intended to lead in the future. God had been buried deep under that. God had also been buried deep under the tribulations my almost immediate family had experienced historically due to their religion. In no way did my grandparents walk around putting down or pushing up God for being a part of their experience or survival of the Holocaust. The experience simply reinforced their identity as Jews, defining their place in the world and therefore their responsibility to impart that place unto their children.
All of this has shaped me, with little explanation, more build up of experience in my surroundings, oh and of course, 18 years of formal Jewish education.
Though the Holocaust directly influenced Dean's history and directly influenced his destiny it was so buried that it really had nothing to do with his identity, not as a Jew and not as a human being. Also- though born Jewish he was no tied to any practice in any way and for the most part had no idea it was part of who he was until I told him so. The discovery came as a shock to both of us, him because it meant he was tied to a religion that simply scared him and me because, well, it meant I could LEGALLY date him :-). Still it meant a major project ahead of us and while it was an inherent connection it also became an inherent disconnect. I had experienced Judaism, I never thought I would have to explain it. He had never experienced Judaism, let alone religion in any capacity. For him religion meant conforming, it meant rules and it meant GOD. This freaks the hell out of him. Religion also meant the key to success for our relationship. And that freaked him out too.
And I had the hardest time abutting his nerves. How was it possible for me a believer/non believer/god fearing/god rebelling Jew supposed to explain in all my conflict that Judaism was great, that he should recognize that and that without that realization there would be no future for us.
I couldn't, I could not be the teacher. All I could do was give him books, hope he would take to them and hope that he would, himself, fall for the whole life style choice as opposed to it being me who forced him into it. The books did not work, the plea for him to recognize that my history was his history did not help either. None of it worked and it put a weight so heavy on the back of our newfound love that it broke.
And Dean broke up with me.
Did it last? You might ask, because here I am irresponsibly writing to you 5 weeks post break up (6 weeks post operation) and things have changed.
In fact Dean and I could not stay apart from each other, we tried a couple of times over the course of the month but realizing that we were utterly failing at the plight Dean decided on his own volition to reach out to some "Jewish sources" of his own. He set up meetings, began e mailing people, posting comments and questions on message boards and the likes. I convinced him he needed to do this on his own, that I did not want to be to blame for his one day accepting this way of life as his own, that he needed to pursue this as an individual. A female rabbi at the 92nd street Y convinced him otherwise. SO- I went with him all the way up to the upper east side for his big introduction.
Now this was not his first introduction to a Rabbi, this was his 2nd or 3rd. I had dragged him to synagogue on the high holidays, invited him to festive meals, introduced him to Jewish friends and so on....
But this 92nd Street Y visit was the first encounter out of his own volition.
It was not the regular for me....first off, I went to yeshiva high school and while my family is conservative and from an egalitarian background, meeting a female Rabbi was NOT what I had in mind, not at all. But here we were sitting face to face with a soon to be female Jewish Rabbi who had a past career in the music business working at Arista records. Irony or ironies.
For the first time, though I saw Dean for who he was, for what he was going through, for all of his questions, thoughts and considerations. This woman handled it beautifully and I listened. This is not to say that I completely understood everything he had to say, it is also not to say that I saw some sort of light or that he saw some sort of light. But we were both suddenly in it together. Whether this pushes us back to each other too soon, whether this religious conflict is present to simply cover up other issues we had been having for some time, we have decided to stay with each other for the time being.
So, as they say, faith brought us together....at least for now. I'll keep ya posted......
xRed Out Loud
Dean and his technical Jew status threw him for a loop and I suppose he could not handle it. And to be perfectly honest I was quite unsympathetic to the whole plight. I am not the best person to, say, teach a person something. You certainly would not find a photograph of me next to the word patient in the dictionary, no sir.
And when it comes to Judaism, for me, it all seems just so obvious. I have been bred this way and I have been bred around other people who have been bred the same way. There was no teaching involved. My understanding of God came at such a young age that I no longer had to understand God in order to understand the rules I lived by, the practices I kept, the practices I chose not to keep, that tendencies my family had that were typically "jewish," the holidays I celebrated and the life I intended to lead in the future. God had been buried deep under that. God had also been buried deep under the tribulations my almost immediate family had experienced historically due to their religion. In no way did my grandparents walk around putting down or pushing up God for being a part of their experience or survival of the Holocaust. The experience simply reinforced their identity as Jews, defining their place in the world and therefore their responsibility to impart that place unto their children.
All of this has shaped me, with little explanation, more build up of experience in my surroundings, oh and of course, 18 years of formal Jewish education.
Though the Holocaust directly influenced Dean's history and directly influenced his destiny it was so buried that it really had nothing to do with his identity, not as a Jew and not as a human being. Also- though born Jewish he was no tied to any practice in any way and for the most part had no idea it was part of who he was until I told him so. The discovery came as a shock to both of us, him because it meant he was tied to a religion that simply scared him and me because, well, it meant I could LEGALLY date him :-). Still it meant a major project ahead of us and while it was an inherent connection it also became an inherent disconnect. I had experienced Judaism, I never thought I would have to explain it. He had never experienced Judaism, let alone religion in any capacity. For him religion meant conforming, it meant rules and it meant GOD. This freaks the hell out of him. Religion also meant the key to success for our relationship. And that freaked him out too.
And I had the hardest time abutting his nerves. How was it possible for me a believer/non believer/god fearing/god rebelling Jew supposed to explain in all my conflict that Judaism was great, that he should recognize that and that without that realization there would be no future for us.
I couldn't, I could not be the teacher. All I could do was give him books, hope he would take to them and hope that he would, himself, fall for the whole life style choice as opposed to it being me who forced him into it. The books did not work, the plea for him to recognize that my history was his history did not help either. None of it worked and it put a weight so heavy on the back of our newfound love that it broke.
And Dean broke up with me.
Did it last? You might ask, because here I am irresponsibly writing to you 5 weeks post break up (6 weeks post operation) and things have changed.
In fact Dean and I could not stay apart from each other, we tried a couple of times over the course of the month but realizing that we were utterly failing at the plight Dean decided on his own volition to reach out to some "Jewish sources" of his own. He set up meetings, began e mailing people, posting comments and questions on message boards and the likes. I convinced him he needed to do this on his own, that I did not want to be to blame for his one day accepting this way of life as his own, that he needed to pursue this as an individual. A female rabbi at the 92nd street Y convinced him otherwise. SO- I went with him all the way up to the upper east side for his big introduction.
Now this was not his first introduction to a Rabbi, this was his 2nd or 3rd. I had dragged him to synagogue on the high holidays, invited him to festive meals, introduced him to Jewish friends and so on....
But this 92nd Street Y visit was the first encounter out of his own volition.
It was not the regular for me....first off, I went to yeshiva high school and while my family is conservative and from an egalitarian background, meeting a female Rabbi was NOT what I had in mind, not at all. But here we were sitting face to face with a soon to be female Jewish Rabbi who had a past career in the music business working at Arista records. Irony or ironies.
For the first time, though I saw Dean for who he was, for what he was going through, for all of his questions, thoughts and considerations. This woman handled it beautifully and I listened. This is not to say that I completely understood everything he had to say, it is also not to say that I saw some sort of light or that he saw some sort of light. But we were both suddenly in it together. Whether this pushes us back to each other too soon, whether this religious conflict is present to simply cover up other issues we had been having for some time, we have decided to stay with each other for the time being.
So, as they say, faith brought us together....at least for now. I'll keep ya posted......
xRed Out Loud
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Have Faith
and it may very well be tonight that Dean broke up with me. Even though it was three weeks ago yesterday that he made the fateful decision. We have continued to see each other and so in a way the last three weeks don't count. Every couple of days we would end up together and two days later we'd look at each other in bed at his apartment and say "what are we doing?" Two days without each other pass and we say to each other on the phone "what are we doing?" and tonight after lots of two day intervals we said to each other "what ARE WE REALLY DOING HERE?" and he decided that had to draw the line (though I did point out he had tried to draw the line weeks ago).
So I suppose this is it, or it for now, or it until he comes around or I get on with it. It's not as though I didn't know this would happen, I mean it is every day that I live a self fulfilling prophecy that all fails and nothing lasts forever. That is why I date men I can't end up with and talk about a career in music that I'd die for but don't actively pursue, instead putting my energy into more tangible jobs-slash-relationships. I am more comfortable with failure then I am with success. That is what some people tell me. About me. You know, because other people love to tell me about me.
I'm Jewish and though this blog began as an ode to my voice and then a recount of my inability to speak for a time, I probably should say that the truth is, despite my attributing my overall human existence to my voice and to song, really underlying it all is my Jewish identity. I am not saying it is a strong or weak identity, in fact its in constant flux and for the most part fights with itself on a daily basis, but whether i'm up one or down one in the god department (or religion department I should say, because who knows if god as anything to do with religion), the damn thing is always present. My identity that is, my JEWISH identity, that is.
It's not really that I was brought up by two devoted conservative Jewish parents and its not that I diligently attended Jewish Day school and then Yeshiva for elementary school and then high school respectively and it is probably not the predominantly Jewish town I live in (New York City AND Teaneck), not the innumerable amount of Jewish friends I have that solidify my identity as a Jew. It's not even the regularly family attended high holiday meals and synagogue services that really seal the deal for me.
No.
It is the fact that my grandfather and my grandmother, my mothers parents, two successful Jewish Educators are from Czecheslovakia and Romania, respectively and they are each survivors of the Holocaust.
I'd say that is what hits the nail into the coffin of my Jewish identity. There is no escaping it now. Once a family member survives atrocity in the name of their religion there offspring are committed. No other option. And so from a young age I was fascinated by the event, read books about it at 8 years old, dreamt about it froma young age, as though it was my own experience and I asked about it all of the time. Any open project in school I made about the Holocaust.
I also promised myself from a young age that if my grandfather survived auschwitz only to face his religion head on and win, deciding to live his life with religous conviction, depsite the persecution he (and my grandmother) endured, that I would perpetuate the same way. I would marry someone Jewish, teach my children and make sure they taught theirs. That was the only answer and it wouldn't be that hard. I'm around Jews day in and day out, I should fall in love with one of these dudes. Right?
Wrong.
Not as easy as planned and if you think that Dean is my first dabble in difference you would be wrong. Yes, I have learned my lesson before dating men who were not Jewish, who promised to lear, to change, to do anything for me and I naively accepted such weak attempts at romatic gestures, I believed them. Then just when I thought I'd finally given up on the goy toy, romeo and juliet potential love affair, I met Dean.
Complicated, though isn't everything?
Dean is Jewish, TECHNICALLY. What does technically mean? For most Jews Matrilineal descent determines your Jew status. NOT your Jewish identity, that is learned, but your Jew Status. And that is age old....if mom was a jew, if mom's mom was a jew, well then YOU are a jew.
Hitler of course saw it otherwise, if you had an ounce of Jew in you, you were Jewish, you were impure. But in religous terms its mom that is the deciding facotr, whether you like it or not, whether you call yoruself Jewish or not, law states, jewish law that is, that if your mom was a jew by birth. SO ARE YOU.
That is Dean. Actually Dean is the mother's mother's jewish example, a stretch by all means, but true. He knew nothing of it and wanted nothing to do with it.
Until I told him there was no way were dating unless Judaism could be a part of his life.
I did not say worship one god all day every day, I just meant Judaism, practices, language, cultrue had to be a part of his every day life and subsequently our every day lives. Once we had kids. And he was confused by the whole thing. I don't blame him.
So....yawn....yawn....eyes closing.....1:45 am....
I will write the rest tomorrow.......
xred out loud
So I suppose this is it, or it for now, or it until he comes around or I get on with it. It's not as though I didn't know this would happen, I mean it is every day that I live a self fulfilling prophecy that all fails and nothing lasts forever. That is why I date men I can't end up with and talk about a career in music that I'd die for but don't actively pursue, instead putting my energy into more tangible jobs-slash-relationships. I am more comfortable with failure then I am with success. That is what some people tell me. About me. You know, because other people love to tell me about me.
I'm Jewish and though this blog began as an ode to my voice and then a recount of my inability to speak for a time, I probably should say that the truth is, despite my attributing my overall human existence to my voice and to song, really underlying it all is my Jewish identity. I am not saying it is a strong or weak identity, in fact its in constant flux and for the most part fights with itself on a daily basis, but whether i'm up one or down one in the god department (or religion department I should say, because who knows if god as anything to do with religion), the damn thing is always present. My identity that is, my JEWISH identity, that is.
It's not really that I was brought up by two devoted conservative Jewish parents and its not that I diligently attended Jewish Day school and then Yeshiva for elementary school and then high school respectively and it is probably not the predominantly Jewish town I live in (New York City AND Teaneck), not the innumerable amount of Jewish friends I have that solidify my identity as a Jew. It's not even the regularly family attended high holiday meals and synagogue services that really seal the deal for me.
No.
It is the fact that my grandfather and my grandmother, my mothers parents, two successful Jewish Educators are from Czecheslovakia and Romania, respectively and they are each survivors of the Holocaust.
I'd say that is what hits the nail into the coffin of my Jewish identity. There is no escaping it now. Once a family member survives atrocity in the name of their religion there offspring are committed. No other option. And so from a young age I was fascinated by the event, read books about it at 8 years old, dreamt about it froma young age, as though it was my own experience and I asked about it all of the time. Any open project in school I made about the Holocaust.
I also promised myself from a young age that if my grandfather survived auschwitz only to face his religion head on and win, deciding to live his life with religous conviction, depsite the persecution he (and my grandmother) endured, that I would perpetuate the same way. I would marry someone Jewish, teach my children and make sure they taught theirs. That was the only answer and it wouldn't be that hard. I'm around Jews day in and day out, I should fall in love with one of these dudes. Right?
Wrong.
Not as easy as planned and if you think that Dean is my first dabble in difference you would be wrong. Yes, I have learned my lesson before dating men who were not Jewish, who promised to lear, to change, to do anything for me and I naively accepted such weak attempts at romatic gestures, I believed them. Then just when I thought I'd finally given up on the goy toy, romeo and juliet potential love affair, I met Dean.
Complicated, though isn't everything?
Dean is Jewish, TECHNICALLY. What does technically mean? For most Jews Matrilineal descent determines your Jew status. NOT your Jewish identity, that is learned, but your Jew Status. And that is age old....if mom was a jew, if mom's mom was a jew, well then YOU are a jew.
Hitler of course saw it otherwise, if you had an ounce of Jew in you, you were Jewish, you were impure. But in religous terms its mom that is the deciding facotr, whether you like it or not, whether you call yoruself Jewish or not, law states, jewish law that is, that if your mom was a jew by birth. SO ARE YOU.
That is Dean. Actually Dean is the mother's mother's jewish example, a stretch by all means, but true. He knew nothing of it and wanted nothing to do with it.
Until I told him there was no way were dating unless Judaism could be a part of his life.
I did not say worship one god all day every day, I just meant Judaism, practices, language, cultrue had to be a part of his every day life and subsequently our every day lives. Once we had kids. And he was confused by the whole thing. I don't blame him.
So....yawn....yawn....eyes closing.....1:45 am....
I will write the rest tomorrow.......
xred out loud
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
ummmmmm.....
Let's see....
I was traveling remote parts of the world for the last 10 days with no access to a computer let alone the internet?
Do you believe that?
If you did, would it be a reasonable excuse for my unreasonable behavior??
It has officially been over 10 days since I have updated this blog during an oh so important part of my life. I have ignored you! All of you! And I think really ignoring this blog means I have ignored myself. So I apologize, to you and, well, to myself!
So, no, the truth is, I was NOT traveling far distances, I WISH! Actually I have just been somewhat busy! I am busying myself through the mid point of my recovery process, because I began to fear for my sanity if I otherwise chose to continue sitting still and silent.
And man have I gotten busy!
I spent many years planning parties, did I ever tell you that? I promoted a saturday night party at a loud night club for 2 years straight. Then I started a job at a promotions company throwing even more parties! Yes....all kinds of parties, social, corporate, you name it. This holiday season, in my absence, they have become quite busy and I have decided that in my semi silence I will be able to consult with them on their corporate events. Woo hoo! It means commission and potential $$$$$$$$$$. Which, did I mention, I am in desperate need of.
In addition to my yet to be seen salaried job at Impulse, I have another un-salaried position working for The New York Songwriters Circle! This is a corporation I have worked for for years on a volunteer basis, hosting a show each month and booking the songwriters who play the show. Now we run an annual contest and recently have decided to incorporate ourselves. NOOOO this does not mean money, this means looking for money and working as though we are making it already! Not that I am complaining in any way, shape, or form. Working with songwriters is one of my favorite past times as a songwriter, but this is taking up loads of my worth-at-least-a-$1 time! And in addition this this!!!I am starting a company and website called Rebel Spirit Music with many details to tie up before our website launch on December 5th. Who am I doing this with you might ask?!
MY RECENT EX BOYFRIEND.
That is right people. My recent ex boyfriend who was once my boyfriend decided that LAST SUNDAY would be a great time to, well, DUMP me....ON THE PHONE!
In his defense- he did so because it would be easier that way. NOT SURE WHY THAT IS A GOOD DEFENSE, but seriously I do understand it. We have always had a volatile relationship and every time we break up for the right reasons in person it seems to be the wrong time, so he tried the phone!
Well it didn't work. I knew he was right when he did it, but for some reason my heart mixed with a little bit of my ego thought that it was totally wrong to dump your love of 7 months over the phone. We needed in person time, right?! You can't just drop something for no good reason and do it over the phone!
I should probably back up this "what was really an inevitable" break up with what were our "problems." We are from two separate worlds, or countries, two separate educational background, two separate financial backgrounds. BIGGEST DIFFERENCE is our religions.
TO BE CONTINUED
(sorry my busy schedule makes me tired by 10 pm) (SAD)
I was traveling remote parts of the world for the last 10 days with no access to a computer let alone the internet?
Do you believe that?
If you did, would it be a reasonable excuse for my unreasonable behavior??
It has officially been over 10 days since I have updated this blog during an oh so important part of my life. I have ignored you! All of you! And I think really ignoring this blog means I have ignored myself. So I apologize, to you and, well, to myself!
So, no, the truth is, I was NOT traveling far distances, I WISH! Actually I have just been somewhat busy! I am busying myself through the mid point of my recovery process, because I began to fear for my sanity if I otherwise chose to continue sitting still and silent.
And man have I gotten busy!
I spent many years planning parties, did I ever tell you that? I promoted a saturday night party at a loud night club for 2 years straight. Then I started a job at a promotions company throwing even more parties! Yes....all kinds of parties, social, corporate, you name it. This holiday season, in my absence, they have become quite busy and I have decided that in my semi silence I will be able to consult with them on their corporate events. Woo hoo! It means commission and potential $$$$$$$$$$. Which, did I mention, I am in desperate need of.
In addition to my yet to be seen salaried job at Impulse, I have another un-salaried position working for The New York Songwriters Circle! This is a corporation I have worked for for years on a volunteer basis, hosting a show each month and booking the songwriters who play the show. Now we run an annual contest and recently have decided to incorporate ourselves. NOOOO this does not mean money, this means looking for money and working as though we are making it already! Not that I am complaining in any way, shape, or form. Working with songwriters is one of my favorite past times as a songwriter, but this is taking up loads of my worth-at-least-a-$1 time! And in addition this this!!!I am starting a company and website called Rebel Spirit Music with many details to tie up before our website launch on December 5th. Who am I doing this with you might ask?!
MY RECENT EX BOYFRIEND.
That is right people. My recent ex boyfriend who was once my boyfriend decided that LAST SUNDAY would be a great time to, well, DUMP me....ON THE PHONE!
In his defense- he did so because it would be easier that way. NOT SURE WHY THAT IS A GOOD DEFENSE, but seriously I do understand it. We have always had a volatile relationship and every time we break up for the right reasons in person it seems to be the wrong time, so he tried the phone!
Well it didn't work. I knew he was right when he did it, but for some reason my heart mixed with a little bit of my ego thought that it was totally wrong to dump your love of 7 months over the phone. We needed in person time, right?! You can't just drop something for no good reason and do it over the phone!
I should probably back up this "what was really an inevitable" break up with what were our "problems." We are from two separate worlds, or countries, two separate educational background, two separate financial backgrounds. BIGGEST DIFFERENCE is our religions.
TO BE CONTINUED
(sorry my busy schedule makes me tired by 10 pm) (SAD)
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Rebel Spirit
Today has been an oddly productive day, despite my 4 am rise and my 2 hour nap between the hours of 11 am and 1 pm. I got some more work done on my new website- www.rebelspiritmusic.com. Don't know how much I have let on about this, because after all this blog is supposed to be about me recovering from vocal surgery to go on and become the next Barbra Streisand or something, but I might as well give you all of me!
I am not very good at sitting still. A lot of people would giver their right arm to just "have to take" a few months off. They'd do things for and by themselves, read, travel, catch up on movies, go to museums, sleep in and so on. Not I. Sitting still makes me nervous and being unproductive makes me nervous. That may be why I have a hard time just calling myself a musician and songwriter, sitting with that and working at it. The minute I hit a creative lull I am working on another project, always music or entertainment related, don't get me wrong, I am not that renaissance.
This time around I have decided to take all of my friends who constantly do each other favors in the biz, be it design fliers, websites and such to booking friends bands at clubs they otherwise can't get into and introducing each other to "the right people" in the biz who can help make things happen. As artists we all have talents (other then musical talents) to offer one another, so I thought why not combine resources, information and try to help each other out.
So rebel spirit music came about, company name borrowed from an old company Dean used to own and the rest of the idea concocted by myself and my friend, and fantastic photographer (also massively stubborn but dynamic all the same) Nicole. Nicole is Dean's flat mate. I say flat mate now instead of roommate because Dean is English and English terms are just so much cuter then American terms!
Anyway- we have gathered lots of information, lots of supporters and even a monthly residency at one of our favorite local music venues and we are going to brand the hell out of rebel spirit! What do we do? Well it is all coming together, whether it will fall into place as an on line musicians network, an online music magazine, a monthly music event, a consulting company, or everything, it will fall!
So lucky for me- that is what has been keeping me busy all through my last few months. Maybe you thought I was sitting in silence writing my next hit record (ok it would be my first if it became a hit at all), you might think that, and perhaps it would have been a better way to spend my time. But I am pretty excited about this!
There is nothing I love more then music and the people that make it amaze me every day! SO organizing that into one little website seems to me like a productive thing to do.
Don't get me wrong- there has already been drama- Nicole and I fighting over flier designs, dean and i fighting over what belongs to who. But I just don't do anything without drama and I am terrible at letting up any control. So this and I ain't perfect. But what is! At least I didn't spend my 2 weeks in silence watching sex and the city episodes for the 78th time in a row.
Not that that sounds so bad once I write it out like that.
hmmmm......
xRed Out Loud
I am not very good at sitting still. A lot of people would giver their right arm to just "have to take" a few months off. They'd do things for and by themselves, read, travel, catch up on movies, go to museums, sleep in and so on. Not I. Sitting still makes me nervous and being unproductive makes me nervous. That may be why I have a hard time just calling myself a musician and songwriter, sitting with that and working at it. The minute I hit a creative lull I am working on another project, always music or entertainment related, don't get me wrong, I am not that renaissance.
This time around I have decided to take all of my friends who constantly do each other favors in the biz, be it design fliers, websites and such to booking friends bands at clubs they otherwise can't get into and introducing each other to "the right people" in the biz who can help make things happen. As artists we all have talents (other then musical talents) to offer one another, so I thought why not combine resources, information and try to help each other out.
So rebel spirit music came about, company name borrowed from an old company Dean used to own and the rest of the idea concocted by myself and my friend, and fantastic photographer (also massively stubborn but dynamic all the same) Nicole. Nicole is Dean's flat mate. I say flat mate now instead of roommate because Dean is English and English terms are just so much cuter then American terms!
Anyway- we have gathered lots of information, lots of supporters and even a monthly residency at one of our favorite local music venues and we are going to brand the hell out of rebel spirit! What do we do? Well it is all coming together, whether it will fall into place as an on line musicians network, an online music magazine, a monthly music event, a consulting company, or everything, it will fall!
So lucky for me- that is what has been keeping me busy all through my last few months. Maybe you thought I was sitting in silence writing my next hit record (ok it would be my first if it became a hit at all), you might think that, and perhaps it would have been a better way to spend my time. But I am pretty excited about this!
There is nothing I love more then music and the people that make it amaze me every day! SO organizing that into one little website seems to me like a productive thing to do.
Don't get me wrong- there has already been drama- Nicole and I fighting over flier designs, dean and i fighting over what belongs to who. But I just don't do anything without drama and I am terrible at letting up any control. So this and I ain't perfect. But what is! At least I didn't spend my 2 weeks in silence watching sex and the city episodes for the 78th time in a row.
Not that that sounds so bad once I write it out like that.
hmmmm......
xRed Out Loud
OMG!!
Oh. My. God.
I can not believe that I have not written for so many days! I am a horrible tease! I write and write and write when I can do nothing but and now that I can speak I have forgotten about all things important! :) So now at 5:32 am on Thursday October 25th I am here!
How far back shall I take you?
On October 18th I arrived at Dr. Woo's office for my post op check up and what would be my first voice therapy session and what would be the first time I heard my voice. It was 6 days post op- meaning I did not have to wait the full 7 days, but I still think it is pretty huge that I lasted even 6 days!!! If you know me or can tell by how long my entries are, you know I have many words and I am not quiet about it.
But it was a lovely week (6 days) and truthfully it was so lovely that it got kind of addictive and between you and I, I was not that excited to begin speaking again.
I know- that sounds crazy! This is not to say I was not excited to begin my road towards singing again. THAT I was excited for....but speaking. For 6 days I did not have to answer to anyone and I mean that literally. I wrote things down of course, when I needed something or wanted to partake in a conversation, but I had this fortunate excuse when I did not want to participate, for why I couldn't. And as I had described in earlier passages it it got me out of arguments that would have ultimately escalated and that was a plus but it also prevented me from talking about how I felt about what I was going through and forced me to go through it alone, which I did not mind. I did not even want visitors, "no fun to have a visitor when you can't chat, I'd much rather be alone," I would think to myself. And I did, I thought to myself, I asked my self tons of questions and when my psycho therapist mother would ask me the dreaded question- how are you today? Is this hard for you? Are you upset? (ok that was 3 questions) I would not have to answer!
And the truth was, I wasn't upset by it! I enjoyed the silence. I never enjoyed silence before because I don't think i gave it a chance to seep in and work it magic. But there I was with only me to talk to (and of course you) (and of course my buddy list, my g chat list and e mail) (But still)!
I talked to myself about everything but mostly I thought about my relationships. My friends, my family, my boyfriend and I made realizations. I rely on my relationships to feed me, but do I feed them? And while I am so busy letting my relationships feed me, do I ever feed myself? And the answer was no, I love the attention I get from all of my relationships, I love being paid attention to it and I think being alone in the past made me hunger for that. Attention and busyness. Being ALONE meant being lonely. But my 6 day silence taught me otherwise. I could be alone, chat with myself and feel quite satisfied.
And now that I can speak again, I am excited to speak to the people I love, but I have not jumped back in and not just because my doc told me not to, but because I sort of enjoy space. And between you and I, I think it's making the people I love like me back a lot more, some people have even claimed to miss me!
I miss you too! Maybe that is a good thing!
xRed Out Loud
I can not believe that I have not written for so many days! I am a horrible tease! I write and write and write when I can do nothing but and now that I can speak I have forgotten about all things important! :) So now at 5:32 am on Thursday October 25th I am here!
How far back shall I take you?
On October 18th I arrived at Dr. Woo's office for my post op check up and what would be my first voice therapy session and what would be the first time I heard my voice. It was 6 days post op- meaning I did not have to wait the full 7 days, but I still think it is pretty huge that I lasted even 6 days!!! If you know me or can tell by how long my entries are, you know I have many words and I am not quiet about it.
But it was a lovely week (6 days) and truthfully it was so lovely that it got kind of addictive and between you and I, I was not that excited to begin speaking again.
I know- that sounds crazy! This is not to say I was not excited to begin my road towards singing again. THAT I was excited for....but speaking. For 6 days I did not have to answer to anyone and I mean that literally. I wrote things down of course, when I needed something or wanted to partake in a conversation, but I had this fortunate excuse when I did not want to participate, for why I couldn't. And as I had described in earlier passages it it got me out of arguments that would have ultimately escalated and that was a plus but it also prevented me from talking about how I felt about what I was going through and forced me to go through it alone, which I did not mind. I did not even want visitors, "no fun to have a visitor when you can't chat, I'd much rather be alone," I would think to myself. And I did, I thought to myself, I asked my self tons of questions and when my psycho therapist mother would ask me the dreaded question- how are you today? Is this hard for you? Are you upset? (ok that was 3 questions) I would not have to answer!
And the truth was, I wasn't upset by it! I enjoyed the silence. I never enjoyed silence before because I don't think i gave it a chance to seep in and work it magic. But there I was with only me to talk to (and of course you) (and of course my buddy list, my g chat list and e mail) (But still)!
I talked to myself about everything but mostly I thought about my relationships. My friends, my family, my boyfriend and I made realizations. I rely on my relationships to feed me, but do I feed them? And while I am so busy letting my relationships feed me, do I ever feed myself? And the answer was no, I love the attention I get from all of my relationships, I love being paid attention to it and I think being alone in the past made me hunger for that. Attention and busyness. Being ALONE meant being lonely. But my 6 day silence taught me otherwise. I could be alone, chat with myself and feel quite satisfied.
And now that I can speak again, I am excited to speak to the people I love, but I have not jumped back in and not just because my doc told me not to, but because I sort of enjoy space. And between you and I, I think it's making the people I love like me back a lot more, some people have even claimed to miss me!
I miss you too! Maybe that is a good thing!
xRed Out Loud
Thursday, October 18, 2007
'Til Death Do Us Part
Why do you think people choose to hurt each other and themselves instead of working hard to remain happy. It seems that, at least this generation of men and women, have decided the easier way out is to hurt and get over it then to commit, work hard and accept bad times as part of the good.
Men and women are independent and think they can probably be that way forever, so love happens less frequently. Real love, dependent love. People, I find, quit while they are ahead.
It's hard not to quit. It's hard not to quit anything you do, it's hard not to quit anything you love. If you quit, it won't hurt as much if you fail. And you will never know if you would have failed.
My friend has been seeing a man who she really felt something for. Now this is a friend who does not shy away from serious relationships. She goes for it each time, works at it, analyzes it, give it a good chance. They just seem to fail for one reason or another. Generally she gives up on them, after good thought, she decides it is not for her, one reason or another.
Only this time, the man she was seeing decided to give up on her. He decided it wasn't the right time for him, that if he ended it now, it would save them both. And she is devastated. I would be too. Afterall, she was ready to go for it, she was ready to try, despite the long distance (this was a bicaostal relationship), despite the difference in life/religous practice. She would try. She liked him, afterall. Why quit?
Well, apparently he thought it would be easier that way. So he did.
The truth is that people survive. We are all survivors. Things falter and we recover. We do. It is only natural. And the only advice to ever give to an ailing friend is that with time it will pass, you will move on and, inevitably, you will be happy. So maybe quitting is not so bad. You all end up ok. Scars and all.
I think about my career quite often. What should I do with it, how can I be more successful, how many road blocks should I overcome to get there? I mean I am pursuing music, there is no delineated path. You just walk it and whatever turn the path decides to make you have to follow it. There are peaks and valleys, successes, failures and the worst- plateaus. I think it is during the plateaus that I wonder, what am I doing here. I am for the most part broke, I am no where that I have not been and I am still standing, but where am I going. All of my other friends experience success, they seem to move ahead in whatever career path they have chosen. What about me?
Should I just quit?
And I think that, I wonder if I should just quit, while I am ahead. I mean it's not as though nothing has ever gone right for me in my career. I have had great experiences with my music. I could leave it here and pursue an entire different happiness. Not sure what it would be, but I am often sure, if I quit it would hurt, but I would end up happy in the end. I mean doesn't everyone find happiness??
But I don't think so. I am not sure that is true in love. And I love music as much as I've loved any man. And believe me, listen to my songs, I have loved. So why would I quit when I was ahead. What happened to 'til death do us part. What happened to feeling love and then committing to that feeling. Working for it.
No one on earth would tell you that love is going to be easy. No one in their right mind would tell you that pursuing something you love, a passion, is going to be easy.
So I don't quit, I keep going. Maybe if people worked for their passion in love and in life there would be less quitting and much more succeeding.
Life is not perfect and moving on is possible. There are situations that are worth getting out of, but there are other situations that are hard, but worth sticking to. I watch my friend in tears and I wish that this man would have tried for something I think was a great thing.
I look at myself in the mirror, voiceless, musicless and I think to myself, why would I give up? Even here, even at my lowest point? Why would I give up now on something I'm in love with? Just because its hard?
I won't. Til death do us part.
xRed Out Loud
Men and women are independent and think they can probably be that way forever, so love happens less frequently. Real love, dependent love. People, I find, quit while they are ahead.
It's hard not to quit. It's hard not to quit anything you do, it's hard not to quit anything you love. If you quit, it won't hurt as much if you fail. And you will never know if you would have failed.
My friend has been seeing a man who she really felt something for. Now this is a friend who does not shy away from serious relationships. She goes for it each time, works at it, analyzes it, give it a good chance. They just seem to fail for one reason or another. Generally she gives up on them, after good thought, she decides it is not for her, one reason or another.
Only this time, the man she was seeing decided to give up on her. He decided it wasn't the right time for him, that if he ended it now, it would save them both. And she is devastated. I would be too. Afterall, she was ready to go for it, she was ready to try, despite the long distance (this was a bicaostal relationship), despite the difference in life/religous practice. She would try. She liked him, afterall. Why quit?
Well, apparently he thought it would be easier that way. So he did.
The truth is that people survive. We are all survivors. Things falter and we recover. We do. It is only natural. And the only advice to ever give to an ailing friend is that with time it will pass, you will move on and, inevitably, you will be happy. So maybe quitting is not so bad. You all end up ok. Scars and all.
I think about my career quite often. What should I do with it, how can I be more successful, how many road blocks should I overcome to get there? I mean I am pursuing music, there is no delineated path. You just walk it and whatever turn the path decides to make you have to follow it. There are peaks and valleys, successes, failures and the worst- plateaus. I think it is during the plateaus that I wonder, what am I doing here. I am for the most part broke, I am no where that I have not been and I am still standing, but where am I going. All of my other friends experience success, they seem to move ahead in whatever career path they have chosen. What about me?
Should I just quit?
And I think that, I wonder if I should just quit, while I am ahead. I mean it's not as though nothing has ever gone right for me in my career. I have had great experiences with my music. I could leave it here and pursue an entire different happiness. Not sure what it would be, but I am often sure, if I quit it would hurt, but I would end up happy in the end. I mean doesn't everyone find happiness??
But I don't think so. I am not sure that is true in love. And I love music as much as I've loved any man. And believe me, listen to my songs, I have loved. So why would I quit when I was ahead. What happened to 'til death do us part. What happened to feeling love and then committing to that feeling. Working for it.
No one on earth would tell you that love is going to be easy. No one in their right mind would tell you that pursuing something you love, a passion, is going to be easy.
So I don't quit, I keep going. Maybe if people worked for their passion in love and in life there would be less quitting and much more succeeding.
Life is not perfect and moving on is possible. There are situations that are worth getting out of, but there are other situations that are hard, but worth sticking to. I watch my friend in tears and I wish that this man would have tried for something I think was a great thing.
I look at myself in the mirror, voiceless, musicless and I think to myself, why would I give up? Even here, even at my lowest point? Why would I give up now on something I'm in love with? Just because its hard?
I won't. Til death do us part.
xRed Out Loud
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Choose Your Words Wisely
Well Everyone, tomorrow is my 7th day of silence and, wahoo, I get to speak. Here's the catch I am alloted about 3-5 minute per hour per day for the next 7 days. I can't decide which will be harder for me. 7 straight days on no talking at all or 7 days where it's just simply a tease to speak. I will have to choose which words are worth saying, which words are not.
I will say that certain people have a knack for choosing their words wisely, and those people probably stay out of loads of trouble, that I find myself getting into on a consistent basis. Trouble for me ranges from being friendly to too many of the wrong people, flirting back with men just to make them feel good, ending up with friends I just did not want in the first place. And then, well, there are my opinions. I have a lot of them and I don't hide them. If I don't like what someone is wearing I'll say it, if I don't like what they say, I will say it. Then of course there is the matter of my loved ones. I am a fighter and I never let things rest unless I feel I have gotten the last word. Basically, what I am trying to say is I am a tough one, I use massive amounts of words and voice to get points across. I am not shy.
So this week, you can imagine, must have been trying. But in fact, I have gotten used to not speaking. I have gotten used to listening and I have gotten used to thinking the things I would say but not saying them. And guess what, I have averted many arguments I otherwise would have had. When you are forced to listen and not speak, you hear what the other person says, you think about, you digest it, because you have to and then you just look back. That is all you have. Your stare. And let me tell you, it gets your point across and hurts the person much less.
For example, in my weak state my mother thought tonight would be a good time to ask me if I'd like to go back to grad school. My mother is constantly supportive of my career goals while trying to divert me as at once, to calm her fears in some way or another. Oh, the Jewish mother. Oh, the mother in general. Normally I'd have yelled, screamed, said horrible things. But all I could do was roll my eyes, look at her and pitifully mouth, "you are going to do this right now?" My dad said, "well, we worry about you." And again, all I had were my eyes and a little chin jut. And miraculously, the conversation ended. No words on my part, no nothing. It ended, I got their point, they got mine. And no one cried! It was brilliant. Actually it was miraculous, really.
Then, the downside, I am limited to IM, e mail, text and a notepad. Today, my friend was dumped by her boyfriend. Dumped, my best friend. For the first time in her life. And I could not even call her. I had to pacify her through g chat. I feel incapacitated and I feel I am a bad friend.
And here is the worst! Or maybe it is for the best. Tomorrow I am meeting Dean's mother for the first time. She is here from England and I will not be able to say more then "hello, how are you?" How about that for dilemma?
I guess there are perks and downsides. Life in general, right?
Tomorrow I get words back. But not all of them. So I will have to choose now. I can't fall back on my inability to speak, but I can't go all out screaming and yelling all the time. I will have to think before speaking, decide when its worth it and when it's not, and make sure I get my points across, succinctly.
I will have to choose my words wisely...which will be much more of a challenge then choosing none at all.
xRedoutloud
I will say that certain people have a knack for choosing their words wisely, and those people probably stay out of loads of trouble, that I find myself getting into on a consistent basis. Trouble for me ranges from being friendly to too many of the wrong people, flirting back with men just to make them feel good, ending up with friends I just did not want in the first place. And then, well, there are my opinions. I have a lot of them and I don't hide them. If I don't like what someone is wearing I'll say it, if I don't like what they say, I will say it. Then of course there is the matter of my loved ones. I am a fighter and I never let things rest unless I feel I have gotten the last word. Basically, what I am trying to say is I am a tough one, I use massive amounts of words and voice to get points across. I am not shy.
So this week, you can imagine, must have been trying. But in fact, I have gotten used to not speaking. I have gotten used to listening and I have gotten used to thinking the things I would say but not saying them. And guess what, I have averted many arguments I otherwise would have had. When you are forced to listen and not speak, you hear what the other person says, you think about, you digest it, because you have to and then you just look back. That is all you have. Your stare. And let me tell you, it gets your point across and hurts the person much less.
For example, in my weak state my mother thought tonight would be a good time to ask me if I'd like to go back to grad school. My mother is constantly supportive of my career goals while trying to divert me as at once, to calm her fears in some way or another. Oh, the Jewish mother. Oh, the mother in general. Normally I'd have yelled, screamed, said horrible things. But all I could do was roll my eyes, look at her and pitifully mouth, "you are going to do this right now?" My dad said, "well, we worry about you." And again, all I had were my eyes and a little chin jut. And miraculously, the conversation ended. No words on my part, no nothing. It ended, I got their point, they got mine. And no one cried! It was brilliant. Actually it was miraculous, really.
Then, the downside, I am limited to IM, e mail, text and a notepad. Today, my friend was dumped by her boyfriend. Dumped, my best friend. For the first time in her life. And I could not even call her. I had to pacify her through g chat. I feel incapacitated and I feel I am a bad friend.
And here is the worst! Or maybe it is for the best. Tomorrow I am meeting Dean's mother for the first time. She is here from England and I will not be able to say more then "hello, how are you?" How about that for dilemma?
I guess there are perks and downsides. Life in general, right?
Tomorrow I get words back. But not all of them. So I will have to choose now. I can't fall back on my inability to speak, but I can't go all out screaming and yelling all the time. I will have to think before speaking, decide when its worth it and when it's not, and make sure I get my points across, succinctly.
I will have to choose my words wisely...which will be much more of a challenge then choosing none at all.
xRedoutloud
A Letter from a fan
A letter I wrote to one of my favorite bloggers, or rather newletter writers- Bob Lefsetz. He gets it. So well, that I felt the need to respond this time! I guess with time on your hands there are no bounds ;) You can read his blog at www.lefsetz.com
Read below;
Dear Bob,
I am an avid reader of your blog and I wanted to let you know that this week it has come in handy in a most particular way. You see, I am an artist, a singer, a songwriter and I believe in music as you believe in music. From artists mouths to the listening ear. That is the heart of music and that is why music persists. Though I am at the crux of the age of the MTV generation, I too am made to feel sick and disappointed by the ongoing reality TV shows, the utterly horrible game shows and the unfortunate lack of, well MUSIC, that this supposed Music Television station claims to offer.
This week I have spent 6 days in silence. About 3 months ago I found out that I had a cyst on my most precious bodily organ. My Vocal Cord. 6 days ago I had it removed and over the next 2 months I will undergo therapy to not only get my singing voice back, but also to get my speaking voice back. I am not a quiet person, I don't listen well and I talk a lot! So this challenge has been a great one for me. But I did something, well two things (along with catching up on your blog), I had never done before. 1)I kept a diary of my experience, which means I slowed down long enough to do so and 2)I listened to music.
You see it's funny, as an artist you spend your days making music, writing, playing, practicing, honing your craft. I, in particular, love to work, play and write with other artists. It's a passion of mine to create original words, melodies and to share it, with whomever will listen. But I find over time that as my own music becomes my focus I stop listening to music. Ironic, I guess. You would think an artist, musician, would constantly be in touch with the artists and albums that have influenced them. But as hours during the day tend to get shorter and shorter I make less and less time to listen. Song by song, note by note.
This last e mail of yours, regarding Little Big Town, a band I also love, made me think about that. And in my silence I yearned for music, not just to sing it, but to listen to it. So I took out old cd's and I listened to them from start to finish. And I guess it does not really matter which ones, but it matters that I did it. I took the journey again with different artists that have spoken to me in different ways from Levon and the Band to, well, old Ella F.
And it brought back music to me. It was great. If the phone rang, I could not answer it, if someone spoke to me I could not speak back. But I could listen....
Thanks for keeping it real, for loving music for the right reasons. Hopefully people will catch on to you as I have.
Have a good one.
Deena
http://redoutloud.blogspot.com/
www.myspace.com/deenagoodman
- Show quoted text -
Read below;
Dear Bob,
I am an avid reader of your blog and I wanted to let you know that this week it has come in handy in a most particular way. You see, I am an artist, a singer, a songwriter and I believe in music as you believe in music. From artists mouths to the listening ear. That is the heart of music and that is why music persists. Though I am at the crux of the age of the MTV generation, I too am made to feel sick and disappointed by the ongoing reality TV shows, the utterly horrible game shows and the unfortunate lack of, well MUSIC, that this supposed Music Television station claims to offer.
This week I have spent 6 days in silence. About 3 months ago I found out that I had a cyst on my most precious bodily organ. My Vocal Cord. 6 days ago I had it removed and over the next 2 months I will undergo therapy to not only get my singing voice back, but also to get my speaking voice back. I am not a quiet person, I don't listen well and I talk a lot! So this challenge has been a great one for me. But I did something, well two things (along with catching up on your blog), I had never done before. 1)I kept a diary of my experience, which means I slowed down long enough to do so and 2)I listened to music.
You see it's funny, as an artist you spend your days making music, writing, playing, practicing, honing your craft. I, in particular, love to work, play and write with other artists. It's a passion of mine to create original words, melodies and to share it, with whomever will listen. But I find over time that as my own music becomes my focus I stop listening to music. Ironic, I guess. You would think an artist, musician, would constantly be in touch with the artists and albums that have influenced them. But as hours during the day tend to get shorter and shorter I make less and less time to listen. Song by song, note by note.
This last e mail of yours, regarding Little Big Town, a band I also love, made me think about that. And in my silence I yearned for music, not just to sing it, but to listen to it. So I took out old cd's and I listened to them from start to finish. And I guess it does not really matter which ones, but it matters that I did it. I took the journey again with different artists that have spoken to me in different ways from Levon and the Band to, well, old Ella F.
And it brought back music to me. It was great. If the phone rang, I could not answer it, if someone spoke to me I could not speak back. But I could listen....
Thanks for keeping it real, for loving music for the right reasons. Hopefully people will catch on to you as I have.
Have a good one.
Deena
http://redoutloud.blogspot.com/
www.myspace.com/deenagoodman
- Show quoted text -
CARNEGIE HALL
I Just rubbed my eyes full of mascara, that is how tired I am, but I must at least begin this entry!
I sang at Carnegie Hall. I mentioned, at least twice, that this day was coming, but I never told you about it! I never told you about the day of, the day of rehearsals the afternoon before, the artists, the glory, the excitement. EVERYTHING!
How many times do you get to say this and mean it? IT WAS FABULOUS!!!!! No better word! Roger Mcguinn, Phoebe Snow, Shawn Colvin, Ryan Shaw! They loved us and we loved them. All was right in the world! To not only share the stage with Fools For April but also with these true artists was just about the only way I could have seen myself spending my last moments singing.
On stage and bloody Carny Hall (as Dean refers to it in English accent).
There's more, more, more! But to sleep I must. I believe that sleep is a large part of healing and I only have 2 more days to heal....so...
Goodnight!
x Red Out Loud
I sang at Carnegie Hall. I mentioned, at least twice, that this day was coming, but I never told you about it! I never told you about the day of, the day of rehearsals the afternoon before, the artists, the glory, the excitement. EVERYTHING!
How many times do you get to say this and mean it? IT WAS FABULOUS!!!!! No better word! Roger Mcguinn, Phoebe Snow, Shawn Colvin, Ryan Shaw! They loved us and we loved them. All was right in the world! To not only share the stage with Fools For April but also with these true artists was just about the only way I could have seen myself spending my last moments singing.
On stage and bloody Carny Hall (as Dean refers to it in English accent).
There's more, more, more! But to sleep I must. I believe that sleep is a large part of healing and I only have 2 more days to heal....so...
Goodnight!
x Red Out Loud
Sounds of Silence
10 sounds to make without your voice:
1)clicking heels
2)stomping feet
3)deep breaths
4)open/close of the refrigerator door
5)pouring water
6)heart beat (not in a silly way, but for real- listen- it speaks your moods when your words can't)!
7)grinding teeth
8)sniffing nose
9)typing keyboard (there are happy, sad, angry, bored typing rhythms)
10)clapping hands
All of these sounds work to communicate, not deeply, but at least to communicate, get attention, get a message across. Anything! Try it! I dare you all to try a fast of words, even for a day. These 10 sounds will mean much more to you then they ever have before!
1)clicking heels
2)stomping feet
3)deep breaths
4)open/close of the refrigerator door
5)pouring water
6)heart beat (not in a silly way, but for real- listen- it speaks your moods when your words can't)!
7)grinding teeth
8)sniffing nose
9)typing keyboard (there are happy, sad, angry, bored typing rhythms)
10)clapping hands
All of these sounds work to communicate, not deeply, but at least to communicate, get attention, get a message across. Anything! Try it! I dare you all to try a fast of words, even for a day. These 10 sounds will mean much more to you then they ever have before!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Day 5
So here I am day 5, episode 32 of Weeds, Nancy is embezzling money from a fake city to buy and sell weed to take care of her kids and Celia has to take care of her abhorred injured ex husband. No one gets a break in the this show, in most shows I find that no one really ever catches a break, how could they? If people caught a break, there would be no show.....
I suppose like life, if I caught a break, my life would be smooth sailing but it would probably be boring. So here I am in my millionth dilemma, not a break in site...and I can't even talk about it! Now don't read this entry as bitter, I am not bitter, I appreciate the challenges I face. The big ones like: lose a lover, learn about yourself. Lose an audition, there is something better around the corner. Watch others succeed around you, don't be jealous, just work harder. Love and success are hard to come by, so there are bound to be bumps in the road. You learn. You work. You progress. That is great. All good and well.
I never thought one of my dilemmas would include losing what came easiest to me, my voice, probably the most instinctual move your body can make. Speak, answer when spoken to, respond, emote and for me and other lucky people, sing. It's one of those many, well, bodily functions, that most people take for granted. You do bad things to it, you do good things to it, you pay no attention to it at all, but still you assume it will be there regardless.
And that is how I treated my voice. I never ignored it. I loved it. But I would not say I treated it as my most prized possession, per se. I mean I can't count the drunken smoke filled nights I spent trudging all over my poor cords, mostly after I found out about my first injury. But it was all in the name of fun, right? And before my injury, I can't tell you how many times I sang my ass off, for so long, that the redness in my cords seeped through to the skin on my neck. But it was all for the love of the craft. Right? If I hit that high note 67 times instead of 65 I felt myself a winner! Glorious feeling to sing, to let out notes that when translated into emotion released the deepest parts of my worried soul. And even in the depths of that very soul I never thought I would ruin this part of myself, maybe for good even.
And I was not naive, I'd seen friends go through it. It is not that unusual that singers experience vocal problems, that singers undergo therapy or other types of treatment to fix an injured instrument. But I was just never going to be one of those people. It's funny as I write this I realize I must sound like one of those ads for protected sex, or something, where you see a young pregnant teenager explaining that she'd never thought it would be her, or some poor young man explaining he never thought he's be the one to end up with Herpes, or, worse, HIV.
Ok- so my bump in the road, not THAT big. But in a way, I relate to those folks. I never thought it would be me. And if you ask anyone else, they'd agree. Deena Goodman, lose her voice? Deena Goodman make it through 7 days (I realize I am only on day 5, but I intend to make it through) without voice use at all??
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am here to say, it can happen to you, it can happen to anyone, and it happened to me.
This would sound cliche if it was not a reality, but it is. I am sitting here in Day 5 with my computer on my lap itching to just HUMMM a note but not being able to and being forced to in turn wonder if I ever will be able to. I have not heard my voice for 6 days, minus a slip up. I won't lie. As you know I accidentally spoke one word being woken up from a nap, but still. It was not loud enough, or long enough to hear. And all can think about is how do I sound, how will I sound, how hard will it be to speak again, how different will my voice sound and will I be able to sing?
Will I be able to sing? Will I be able to sing?
A question I never thought I would ask out loud. A road block I never thought I'd face. A break I never thought I'd hope for.
x Red Out Loud
I suppose like life, if I caught a break, my life would be smooth sailing but it would probably be boring. So here I am in my millionth dilemma, not a break in site...and I can't even talk about it! Now don't read this entry as bitter, I am not bitter, I appreciate the challenges I face. The big ones like: lose a lover, learn about yourself. Lose an audition, there is something better around the corner. Watch others succeed around you, don't be jealous, just work harder. Love and success are hard to come by, so there are bound to be bumps in the road. You learn. You work. You progress. That is great. All good and well.
I never thought one of my dilemmas would include losing what came easiest to me, my voice, probably the most instinctual move your body can make. Speak, answer when spoken to, respond, emote and for me and other lucky people, sing. It's one of those many, well, bodily functions, that most people take for granted. You do bad things to it, you do good things to it, you pay no attention to it at all, but still you assume it will be there regardless.
And that is how I treated my voice. I never ignored it. I loved it. But I would not say I treated it as my most prized possession, per se. I mean I can't count the drunken smoke filled nights I spent trudging all over my poor cords, mostly after I found out about my first injury. But it was all in the name of fun, right? And before my injury, I can't tell you how many times I sang my ass off, for so long, that the redness in my cords seeped through to the skin on my neck. But it was all for the love of the craft. Right? If I hit that high note 67 times instead of 65 I felt myself a winner! Glorious feeling to sing, to let out notes that when translated into emotion released the deepest parts of my worried soul. And even in the depths of that very soul I never thought I would ruin this part of myself, maybe for good even.
And I was not naive, I'd seen friends go through it. It is not that unusual that singers experience vocal problems, that singers undergo therapy or other types of treatment to fix an injured instrument. But I was just never going to be one of those people. It's funny as I write this I realize I must sound like one of those ads for protected sex, or something, where you see a young pregnant teenager explaining that she'd never thought it would be her, or some poor young man explaining he never thought he's be the one to end up with Herpes, or, worse, HIV.
Ok- so my bump in the road, not THAT big. But in a way, I relate to those folks. I never thought it would be me. And if you ask anyone else, they'd agree. Deena Goodman, lose her voice? Deena Goodman make it through 7 days (I realize I am only on day 5, but I intend to make it through) without voice use at all??
Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am here to say, it can happen to you, it can happen to anyone, and it happened to me.
This would sound cliche if it was not a reality, but it is. I am sitting here in Day 5 with my computer on my lap itching to just HUMMM a note but not being able to and being forced to in turn wonder if I ever will be able to. I have not heard my voice for 6 days, minus a slip up. I won't lie. As you know I accidentally spoke one word being woken up from a nap, but still. It was not loud enough, or long enough to hear. And all can think about is how do I sound, how will I sound, how hard will it be to speak again, how different will my voice sound and will I be able to sing?
Will I be able to sing? Will I be able to sing?
A question I never thought I would ask out loud. A road block I never thought I'd face. A break I never thought I'd hope for.
x Red Out Loud
Monday, October 15, 2007
In SIlence and In Health
Right now I am about 3 and a half days into silence and if you think that means that my last 84 hours were relaxing, drama free, sex and the city marathons...you would be wrong. Oh no, in fact I have barely made it through a movie. There have been loving visitors, guest attended meals, dvr catch up and of course, no weekend goes by without a fight or two with my boyfriend. One might think that in silence who could fight, one might think that who would consider challenging a poor voiceless soul. Well let me tell you.... Dean has decided ever since I told him not to keep anything bottled up that he should always be forthright about how he feels, no matter the situation, even if that means telling me any and every time he deems my behavior abhorrent, or horrible, as he likes to call it.
Thanks Dean! Thank you for deeming my reaction to being woken up by my father and thereby saying one word out loud, one MORE word then my weeks word allotment, as horrible. You are probably right- letting something so small like speaking with a cut up vocal cord bother me is so, well, wrong! Being stressed out while not being able to express myself in any way- that must be wrong too.
What do you think this is, some sort of a vacation?
It's not.
It's an odd thing how lovers deal with each other in times of need. The people that are supposed to be the most understanding, the most comforting, more comforting then even a mothers touch, are most often the most unable to help. This could be because they are uncomfortable watching someone they love feel hurt or incapacitated or because the injured loved one does not want to to let their said lover make them feel any better.
It's hard for two people to let themselves be there for each other. Vulnerability, we are told and have been told for ages, is the hardest state to allow oneself to be in. So I am not writing today to put down Dean, he is wonderful to me, but for some reason in my vulnerability as patient and his vulnerability as caretaker we have been, well, HORRIBLE to each other.
Strangely though in the absence of my regular ability to communicate we have had to resort to typing, e mailing which means, wait for it....thinking before speaking! And oddly this has been effective, more honest and more hurtful in turn, but at least efficient and hopefully effective. We heard each other, in the silence, actually heard what the other was saying. I'm uncomfortable being out of commission, he is uncomfortable watching me in pain, he has trouble with needy, so do I. And we pissed each other off, in silence. And we made up in silence.
I don't know if it's a good sign or a bad sign that even in silence my boyfriend and I fight. If I should feel badly that I have trouble relying on someone I love or that he might have trouble being there for someone that he loves back.
Or maybe this is not a sign at all, maybe its another small argument between people who really just want to be close to each other, in silence and in health.
x
red out loud
Thanks Dean! Thank you for deeming my reaction to being woken up by my father and thereby saying one word out loud, one MORE word then my weeks word allotment, as horrible. You are probably right- letting something so small like speaking with a cut up vocal cord bother me is so, well, wrong! Being stressed out while not being able to express myself in any way- that must be wrong too.
What do you think this is, some sort of a vacation?
It's not.
It's an odd thing how lovers deal with each other in times of need. The people that are supposed to be the most understanding, the most comforting, more comforting then even a mothers touch, are most often the most unable to help. This could be because they are uncomfortable watching someone they love feel hurt or incapacitated or because the injured loved one does not want to to let their said lover make them feel any better.
It's hard for two people to let themselves be there for each other. Vulnerability, we are told and have been told for ages, is the hardest state to allow oneself to be in. So I am not writing today to put down Dean, he is wonderful to me, but for some reason in my vulnerability as patient and his vulnerability as caretaker we have been, well, HORRIBLE to each other.
Strangely though in the absence of my regular ability to communicate we have had to resort to typing, e mailing which means, wait for it....thinking before speaking! And oddly this has been effective, more honest and more hurtful in turn, but at least efficient and hopefully effective. We heard each other, in the silence, actually heard what the other was saying. I'm uncomfortable being out of commission, he is uncomfortable watching me in pain, he has trouble with needy, so do I. And we pissed each other off, in silence. And we made up in silence.
I don't know if it's a good sign or a bad sign that even in silence my boyfriend and I fight. If I should feel badly that I have trouble relying on someone I love or that he might have trouble being there for someone that he loves back.
Or maybe this is not a sign at all, maybe its another small argument between people who really just want to be close to each other, in silence and in health.
x
red out loud
Friday, October 12, 2007
Silence Becomes Me
Forecast for surgery, weather wise, was sunny. And though it was not sunny at all when I began my trip to the hospital this morning, it was certainly sunny when I left and for fear of cheesy metaphors it was sunny for me inside and out. Strangely I was relieved, happy and sort of interested in my new found silence.
When I arrived at the hospital this morning at 6:45 am (that is correct people, 15 minutes late-go figure), I actually convinced my father to take hold of the camera (I felt 6 am was too early for my dear, sweet Nicole) and shoot my entrance to the hospital, or to my fate, as I like to dramatically put it.
It is strange to walk into the hospital for an appointment for surgery. The appointments I am used are for pedicures, hair cuts, facials, maybe a standard check up of some sort, teeth cleaning. I have never walked into an appointment to have my vocal cords cut and put back together. I have never been put out with general anasthesia and I have never had an IV. I guess when and if I ever pictured myself on an operating table, it was probably in some imagined scenario replicating some scene I had scene on ER or Grey's Anatomy. I'm wheeled in on a stretcher and opened up right then and there to fix some sort of emergency situation. Yes, I am a hypochondriac and yes, I am a bit dramatic.
In any case, THIS was not how I pictured it. I walked in with my mother, registered, got past the surgery admissions by just handing them my insurance card (all fears of having to pay in full averted) and I waited. I was called into a changing room where I placed my clothing in a bag and sat in a chair and waited. I was lucky to be accompanied by my mother and eventually my father. They'd managed to both remain inside the room despite the one visitor per person policy. We waited. My dad taped a bit, played around with his new i phone and my mother tried to comfort me. I pretended to be calm as best I could, but my tapping feet gave me away. Truthfully, I was nervous about the actual surgery and I was nervous about the impending 7 day silence, but what was on my mind most immediately was getting the actual IV. The thought of a needle and then a tube stuck under thin skin for even just a few minutes grossed me out entirely.
After the changing room I had to say goodbye to my father, I would have had to say goodbye to my mother but she pushed her way into the holding room with me. She has a way with that. She sat with me as different doctors, med students, residents, nurses all came in to introduce themselves to me, as if this was some fun trip we were about to embark upon. Yipppeee!
Then my hero Dr. Carroll found me. She is my speech pathologist the one who will inevitably help me to speak again, once this loooong silent week is over. I did not realize she would actually come on the day of my surgery. But there she was to distract me from my own nerves. She held my hand all the way into the operating room and helped me hoist myself onto the operating table! Yes, there is no wheeling you in on some kind of stretcher, as seen in movies, no. You walk right in, lie down, see all of the instruments around you and then, THEN, they stuff the IV into you.
There I was, Dr. Carroll holding my hand, a bunch of med students and residents standing in a group chatting with each other, Dr. Woo enters, pats me on the back, a nurse sticks a needle in my arm, misses, finds a better vein, hits it this time and Dr. Reid, my anesthesiologist asks me if I am ready. He tells me they are just going to give me a little bit of medicine, my head may feel funny, I tell him I can handle it and the next thing I know I lose control, my head falls in, it burns and then I am out.
Beep, beep, beep....what felt like a moment later and I thought that I must be waking up mid surgery. With no control over my muscles, limbs, mind or mouth all I can think is that someone has to tell them I am waking up! Mid surgery! Then a calm voice says, that's it, you did it, you are done, you did great. Phew....so this is what people meant when they say "and then a minute later, it's over!" Ohhhh....
I had done it. I went down, I rose and I did not speak a word once I had. All I wanted to do was thank everyone, touch everyone, hug everyone. I knew I could not say anything out loud so I just mouthed- thank you to everyone I could see. Then I started shivering, uncontrollably. Apparently that is normal, something about your muscles coming back into action. Nurses chatting all around me, to me, not realizing I am on voice rest, then realizing it and still chatting. I did not care- I as just happy that somehow without my voice I was communicating, or people were at least communicating with me! I finally came to and I just could not wait to get out of there. I actually felt great, my throat burned, but the fact that I had made it through surgery and was one step closer to hearing my voice again overshadowed everything! I wanted to see my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my friends anyone!
But I couldn't, not until I peed at least. A major step towards the recovery/release room. This part may sound weird, but I am not censoring this experience, not a second of it. Once I could feel myself again, under many warm blankets I felt the immediate urge to pee. Because I was not completely back to my senses I was not allowed to get up and go to the restroom. No one had described this part to me. The part where you slowly regain your bodily functions, public and private. I could not speak so with all of the energy I had in my body (which was very little) I lifted my right hand pointed to my bladder and the nurse in her Phillipino accent responded and said, in full voice, that she would run and get the bed pan.
Through my haze I thought, WHAT?! No way in hell am I going to pee in a public recovery room, in a plastic bin, in the shape of a toilet seat. NO WAY. Fear not- it seems the sensation was just that, a sensation. I laid on this plastic bin for a while to no avail, when the nurse finally removed it and told me to try and take a nap. Take a nap....that should be easy, I have this undying sensation that I need to pee and a man in the bed next to me whining his head off about one thing or another, not to mention an increasingly burning pain in my throat. And of course- no one to talk to about it.
Lucky for me, and i find this to most often be the case, I ran into a few people that I knew! Right there in the recovery room. My old friend Marguite, from Highschool and College was there on a visiting rotation and she saved the day by bringing over some paper and a pen to me and sharing in some voiceless catch up and gossip. Passed the time away. Before I knew it Dr. Woo was in to check on me, asked me to hum a few bars and then told me to shut up for the next week.
Eventually- after peeing not once, but twice, in the real bathroom, I got wheeled in a wheel chair (this part is just like the movies) into the final recovery room, where they took out the blasted IV had me sign some papers and escorted me out to my parents. Actually luckily enough for me a dear friend of our family was on call in the hospital that day and came to my rescue, escorting me earlier then expected out to my parents!
My father explained the the surgery had gone well, I hugged them both, I don't think I realized how much I actually missed them! I began writing away to them dropping my two written prescriptions somewhere along the way, only needing to have them refilled over the phone hours later.
I was free. Free and Captive all at once. I could hear the world, but the world could not hear me. I could peer out but no one could peer in. I sat in the back seat with my mother and my father chaueffered us home, no one having any idea what the next few days would be like.
When I arrived at the hospital this morning at 6:45 am (that is correct people, 15 minutes late-go figure), I actually convinced my father to take hold of the camera (I felt 6 am was too early for my dear, sweet Nicole) and shoot my entrance to the hospital, or to my fate, as I like to dramatically put it.
It is strange to walk into the hospital for an appointment for surgery. The appointments I am used are for pedicures, hair cuts, facials, maybe a standard check up of some sort, teeth cleaning. I have never walked into an appointment to have my vocal cords cut and put back together. I have never been put out with general anasthesia and I have never had an IV. I guess when and if I ever pictured myself on an operating table, it was probably in some imagined scenario replicating some scene I had scene on ER or Grey's Anatomy. I'm wheeled in on a stretcher and opened up right then and there to fix some sort of emergency situation. Yes, I am a hypochondriac and yes, I am a bit dramatic.
In any case, THIS was not how I pictured it. I walked in with my mother, registered, got past the surgery admissions by just handing them my insurance card (all fears of having to pay in full averted) and I waited. I was called into a changing room where I placed my clothing in a bag and sat in a chair and waited. I was lucky to be accompanied by my mother and eventually my father. They'd managed to both remain inside the room despite the one visitor per person policy. We waited. My dad taped a bit, played around with his new i phone and my mother tried to comfort me. I pretended to be calm as best I could, but my tapping feet gave me away. Truthfully, I was nervous about the actual surgery and I was nervous about the impending 7 day silence, but what was on my mind most immediately was getting the actual IV. The thought of a needle and then a tube stuck under thin skin for even just a few minutes grossed me out entirely.
After the changing room I had to say goodbye to my father, I would have had to say goodbye to my mother but she pushed her way into the holding room with me. She has a way with that. She sat with me as different doctors, med students, residents, nurses all came in to introduce themselves to me, as if this was some fun trip we were about to embark upon. Yipppeee!
Then my hero Dr. Carroll found me. She is my speech pathologist the one who will inevitably help me to speak again, once this loooong silent week is over. I did not realize she would actually come on the day of my surgery. But there she was to distract me from my own nerves. She held my hand all the way into the operating room and helped me hoist myself onto the operating table! Yes, there is no wheeling you in on some kind of stretcher, as seen in movies, no. You walk right in, lie down, see all of the instruments around you and then, THEN, they stuff the IV into you.
There I was, Dr. Carroll holding my hand, a bunch of med students and residents standing in a group chatting with each other, Dr. Woo enters, pats me on the back, a nurse sticks a needle in my arm, misses, finds a better vein, hits it this time and Dr. Reid, my anesthesiologist asks me if I am ready. He tells me they are just going to give me a little bit of medicine, my head may feel funny, I tell him I can handle it and the next thing I know I lose control, my head falls in, it burns and then I am out.
Beep, beep, beep....what felt like a moment later and I thought that I must be waking up mid surgery. With no control over my muscles, limbs, mind or mouth all I can think is that someone has to tell them I am waking up! Mid surgery! Then a calm voice says, that's it, you did it, you are done, you did great. Phew....so this is what people meant when they say "and then a minute later, it's over!" Ohhhh....
I had done it. I went down, I rose and I did not speak a word once I had. All I wanted to do was thank everyone, touch everyone, hug everyone. I knew I could not say anything out loud so I just mouthed- thank you to everyone I could see. Then I started shivering, uncontrollably. Apparently that is normal, something about your muscles coming back into action. Nurses chatting all around me, to me, not realizing I am on voice rest, then realizing it and still chatting. I did not care- I as just happy that somehow without my voice I was communicating, or people were at least communicating with me! I finally came to and I just could not wait to get out of there. I actually felt great, my throat burned, but the fact that I had made it through surgery and was one step closer to hearing my voice again overshadowed everything! I wanted to see my mom, my dad, my boyfriend, my friends anyone!
But I couldn't, not until I peed at least. A major step towards the recovery/release room. This part may sound weird, but I am not censoring this experience, not a second of it. Once I could feel myself again, under many warm blankets I felt the immediate urge to pee. Because I was not completely back to my senses I was not allowed to get up and go to the restroom. No one had described this part to me. The part where you slowly regain your bodily functions, public and private. I could not speak so with all of the energy I had in my body (which was very little) I lifted my right hand pointed to my bladder and the nurse in her Phillipino accent responded and said, in full voice, that she would run and get the bed pan.
Through my haze I thought, WHAT?! No way in hell am I going to pee in a public recovery room, in a plastic bin, in the shape of a toilet seat. NO WAY. Fear not- it seems the sensation was just that, a sensation. I laid on this plastic bin for a while to no avail, when the nurse finally removed it and told me to try and take a nap. Take a nap....that should be easy, I have this undying sensation that I need to pee and a man in the bed next to me whining his head off about one thing or another, not to mention an increasingly burning pain in my throat. And of course- no one to talk to about it.
Lucky for me, and i find this to most often be the case, I ran into a few people that I knew! Right there in the recovery room. My old friend Marguite, from Highschool and College was there on a visiting rotation and she saved the day by bringing over some paper and a pen to me and sharing in some voiceless catch up and gossip. Passed the time away. Before I knew it Dr. Woo was in to check on me, asked me to hum a few bars and then told me to shut up for the next week.
Eventually- after peeing not once, but twice, in the real bathroom, I got wheeled in a wheel chair (this part is just like the movies) into the final recovery room, where they took out the blasted IV had me sign some papers and escorted me out to my parents. Actually luckily enough for me a dear friend of our family was on call in the hospital that day and came to my rescue, escorting me earlier then expected out to my parents!
My father explained the the surgery had gone well, I hugged them both, I don't think I realized how much I actually missed them! I began writing away to them dropping my two written prescriptions somewhere along the way, only needing to have them refilled over the phone hours later.
I was free. Free and Captive all at once. I could hear the world, but the world could not hear me. I could peer out but no one could peer in. I sat in the back seat with my mother and my father chaueffered us home, no one having any idea what the next few days would be like.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
7 Day Forecast!
I can not imagine what the days ahead of me will hold. I keep looking in any direction to gain some sort of hint or sign, but nothing. The only sense of what the future will hold for me is in the forecast, at least I know if the sun will shine or rain will pour. In a way it gives me some confidence. At least I know those days will actually come and go with some semblence of weather conditions!
It could be worse!
Fri
Oct 12
Few Showers
59°/48° 30%
6 Good
Check Your Local Event Forecast
Sat
Oct 13
Few Showers
58°/46° 30%
7 Good
Sun
Oct 14
Mostly Sunny
62°/46° 10%
8 Very Good
Mon
Oct 15
Mostly Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Tue
Oct 16
Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Wed
Oct 17
Sunny
65°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Thu
Oct 18
Partly Cloudy
66°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
It could be worse!
Fri
Oct 12
Few Showers
59°/48° 30%
6 Good
Check Your Local Event Forecast
Sat
Oct 13
Few Showers
58°/46° 30%
7 Good
Sun
Oct 14
Mostly Sunny
62°/46° 10%
8 Very Good
Mon
Oct 15
Mostly Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Tue
Oct 16
Sunny
63°/48° 20%
8 Very Good
Wed
Oct 17
Sunny
65°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Thu
Oct 18
Partly Cloudy
66°/50° 10%
9 Very Good
Saturday, October 6, 2007
5:58 AM
It is 5:58 am. I am awake by accident. It is now officially 6 and a half days until the doctor scratches up my vocal cords. that makes it 6 and a half days until I enter a 7 day silence. Which at first sounded like a funny joke to me, I mean what better a punishment for years of big mouthing it then to have to shut up for 7 days, but I must say I am really nervous about it. Not because it won't be fun, not because I will be lonely and not because I won't be able to communicate, but literally because I am afraid I won't be able to do it. I am sort of scared that I will actually just forget to keep quiet, that I will unravel, give up, or worse speak in my sleep. My speech pathologist told me I can not make a sound, not even cough, not laugh, not nothing.
So now I am up at 5:58 am on a Saturday morning thinking about how I am going to get through these 7 days. And in thinking about how, I sort of start to think, why?
Why do I care this much about my voice. I've just had 3 months off, 3 months, and I am not sure what I have accomplished. I have not been working, I have not been writing any new material and I have not been pushing my music in any which direction at all. All of the video footage that I have taken for the documentary is sitting on hard drive in my boyfriend's apartment waiting to be edited. I've tried, but it's difficult and time consuming and I don't really know how to use the program. I have this blog, but I have not figured out how to upload photos or make it look like anything more then a standard on line blog.
Basically, I am stuck, stuck and can't even sleep through it. It is strange to fall so low and not really know what to do about it other then wait and see how things pan out.
So now I am up at 5:58 am on a Saturday morning thinking about how I am going to get through these 7 days. And in thinking about how, I sort of start to think, why?
Why do I care this much about my voice. I've just had 3 months off, 3 months, and I am not sure what I have accomplished. I have not been working, I have not been writing any new material and I have not been pushing my music in any which direction at all. All of the video footage that I have taken for the documentary is sitting on hard drive in my boyfriend's apartment waiting to be edited. I've tried, but it's difficult and time consuming and I don't really know how to use the program. I have this blog, but I have not figured out how to upload photos or make it look like anything more then a standard on line blog.
Basically, I am stuck, stuck and can't even sleep through it. It is strange to fall so low and not really know what to do about it other then wait and see how things pan out.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
SILENCE
Days after my last entry I write with good and bad news. Lots of it.
#1 I have rescheduled my surgery for October 12th, since I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to sing at Carnegie Hall on the 10th and felt that rescheduling my surgery was worth that show. So the good news is that I did not have to wait long for a new date and the bad news is I am only 10 days away from my upcoming 7 day SILENCE.
#2 In rescheduling my surgery I found out that my insurance will in fact cover part of this cost if I do want to go with the number 1 doctor of choice. Good news is- I get to use a widely known and trusted doctor in this field. Bad news is- he is not half as hot as the "covered by my insurance" doctor (also a talented one). But I suppose in the case of your life- hot is not what counts. Whatever....
#3 I am half way towards booking my company's first big event (and my return to social life event) taking place on December 5th at the Rockwood Musichall! YAY!!! Go www.rebelspiritmusic.com!
And that is that. All the Good and Bad news.
Last night I had a dream about silence, I was silent throughout the entire dream, on the subway, in stores and whatever else I did in my dream for the day. It was not easy and I know it wont be easy. i cant imagine the kind of things I will come up with when the only person I can talk to for 7 days is myself.
Should be an interesting Journey. I will say, it is making both my parents and my boyfriend a little happier then I would have expected- ouch ;)!
#1 I have rescheduled my surgery for October 12th, since I have been fortunate enough to have the opportunity to sing at Carnegie Hall on the 10th and felt that rescheduling my surgery was worth that show. So the good news is that I did not have to wait long for a new date and the bad news is I am only 10 days away from my upcoming 7 day SILENCE.
#2 In rescheduling my surgery I found out that my insurance will in fact cover part of this cost if I do want to go with the number 1 doctor of choice. Good news is- I get to use a widely known and trusted doctor in this field. Bad news is- he is not half as hot as the "covered by my insurance" doctor (also a talented one). But I suppose in the case of your life- hot is not what counts. Whatever....
#3 I am half way towards booking my company's first big event (and my return to social life event) taking place on December 5th at the Rockwood Musichall! YAY!!! Go www.rebelspiritmusic.com!
And that is that. All the Good and Bad news.
Last night I had a dream about silence, I was silent throughout the entire dream, on the subway, in stores and whatever else I did in my dream for the day. It was not easy and I know it wont be easy. i cant imagine the kind of things I will come up with when the only person I can talk to for 7 days is myself.
Should be an interesting Journey. I will say, it is making both my parents and my boyfriend a little happier then I would have expected- ouch ;)!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Validated
Strangely, an on line blog somewhat validates your otherwise "unidentifiable" life. One minute you are just another girl walking the streets, running your errands, doing your job (whatever that may be), dating the men you date, surviving the drama that impacts most anyone's life at one time or another: family, friends, love, hate. Or maybe you are one of those people that does not have drama on a regular level, maybe its worse. Either way, writing it down makes it all the more real and at the same time can take you out of it. So people write and now, thanks to the internet, people can write about and show it to the world. And then maybe get a book deal, or advertising or some kind of reward that turns your everyday life into something spectacular, makes you feel big and I suppose "Identifiable." Some feel the book deal part is meaning and I feel the validating my otherwise empty days much more meaningful, even if i'm the only one to read this thing.
I literally write this blog because I have no one else to talk to during my days in waiting. Plus, I am really not supposed to talk out loud that much, which for me is the most drama I've had in a long time. Worse then any boy drama, friend drama, hell, even family drama, is the thought that I cant speak out loud. OUT LOUD.
SO in a way- this blog, whether anyone is reading it or not, validates my boring and QUIET existence and since i am not afraid to share most of my life with the people that do read it, you actually get some fun little stories and tid bits. I'm VALIDATED!
So in news. I CAN"T USE THE HOT DOC. Boo hoo. But the reason is good, and that is the fact that my idiot insurance company has finally agreed to cover most of my surgery bill with my first choice (older and less hot, but more experienced- one must prioritize) doctor!
Yay!
And in finding out that I would once again need to push off my date of inevitable surgery I freed up October 10th just as my friend Dov from the band Fools for April asked me to join him, THAT NIGHT, singing on stage at Carnegie Hall for the Elton John Tribute. Yes, that is a bill that includes Fools for April, ummm....Joss Stone, Pheobe Snow, Shawn Colvin and AIMEE MANN! (and me)!
Yay!
Last night at the New York Songwriter's Circle. Ari Hest, James Maddock, Matt Mayfield and the glorious Hugh Prestwood. One of my favorite nights to host and not just because Ari is a cutie! Well done gentlemen.
www.songwriters-circle.com
bye now!
I literally write this blog because I have no one else to talk to during my days in waiting. Plus, I am really not supposed to talk out loud that much, which for me is the most drama I've had in a long time. Worse then any boy drama, friend drama, hell, even family drama, is the thought that I cant speak out loud. OUT LOUD.
SO in a way- this blog, whether anyone is reading it or not, validates my boring and QUIET existence and since i am not afraid to share most of my life with the people that do read it, you actually get some fun little stories and tid bits. I'm VALIDATED!
So in news. I CAN"T USE THE HOT DOC. Boo hoo. But the reason is good, and that is the fact that my idiot insurance company has finally agreed to cover most of my surgery bill with my first choice (older and less hot, but more experienced- one must prioritize) doctor!
Yay!
And in finding out that I would once again need to push off my date of inevitable surgery I freed up October 10th just as my friend Dov from the band Fools for April asked me to join him, THAT NIGHT, singing on stage at Carnegie Hall for the Elton John Tribute. Yes, that is a bill that includes Fools for April, ummm....Joss Stone, Pheobe Snow, Shawn Colvin and AIMEE MANN! (and me)!
Yay!
Last night at the New York Songwriter's Circle. Ari Hest, James Maddock, Matt Mayfield and the glorious Hugh Prestwood. One of my favorite nights to host and not just because Ari is a cutie! Well done gentlemen.
www.songwriters-circle.com
bye now!
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Deep Thoughts by Red Out Loud: What to Do with Loads of Free Time
It's weird to live life and not actually do anything. Literally spending days biding time. In my life absence or absence of life I have aquired an addiction. To TV. And it makes sense to me. I mean, think about it, if your life is in limbo what else would you want to do? Watch a million lives that are not your own and pretend you are accomplishing what they are. yay.
I can't tell you how many minutes of this wait time I spend thinking about what I else I could do with my so called life. You would think when you lose your voice, you are a singer and you can't sing all you would think about would be singing, performing, playing music- things obvious like that. Not me. I think of everything else I could be, everyone else I could be. This may seem depressing to you, but it doesnt actually make me sad. It is just sort of something I do to pass my time. I suppose the sad part of it is that I could be doing some work towards my ultimate goal, but it seems without the product to sell I can't do any of the prep work either. Writing, meeting, none of it. So I am working on other people and other people's goals, diving head first into other people's lives. The way I do with my favorite TV characters.
Please watch the following shows if you too are looking for a diversion from your reality or lack there of:
Californication: mysoginistic but playful parody of life as a writer in LA. It tries to be deep and may achieve just that eventually, however at this point it simply morally derails women and their roles in LA society, something women in LA (forgive me for generalizing) have probably asked for.
Mad Men: Seemingly mysoginistic, but really only a depiction of an utterly mysoginistic, bigoted, closed hearted time period in our history. Cant blame them for acting and writing the truth. Intelligent gaze into the hearts and minds and flaws of all those personalities that made it up: buttoned up executives with lots to hide, Doris day housewives with lots to hide, working girls with lots to hide and even bohos with lots to hide. Seems mans tragic flaw has corrupted our world, work and home, for a very long time.
Tell Me You Love Me: 4 couples in different stages of their relationships explore the problems that go with them. FIghting through issues that in an ideal world would be worked through, but in real life might just remain issues to be worked through. Constantly.
All shows prove life, love and the pursuit of happiness (ah the age old cliche) are borderline unachievable at best.
Sould I take a hint?
Maybe it is no wonder that all three of these shows get me each time! I will blame it on the time I have, so much so that I can write to you about it all, or maybe its the 3 diet cokes I drank tonight keeping me up. I'm not supposed to drink Diet coke, but with 3 weeks until my surgery I have somehow deemed all inappropriate treatment of my voice allowable.
Stupid, really.
Cut to me at this very moment....About to sleep in my boyfriends empty bed in brooklyn while he rides DIsney land with his little nephews, my best friend is also my boyfriends roomate, she's in her bedroom lost again over her on and off boyfriend and there is a clock ticking above my head. Loudly.
Good thing I have ear plugs.
I can't tell you how many minutes of this wait time I spend thinking about what I else I could do with my so called life. You would think when you lose your voice, you are a singer and you can't sing all you would think about would be singing, performing, playing music- things obvious like that. Not me. I think of everything else I could be, everyone else I could be. This may seem depressing to you, but it doesnt actually make me sad. It is just sort of something I do to pass my time. I suppose the sad part of it is that I could be doing some work towards my ultimate goal, but it seems without the product to sell I can't do any of the prep work either. Writing, meeting, none of it. So I am working on other people and other people's goals, diving head first into other people's lives. The way I do with my favorite TV characters.
Please watch the following shows if you too are looking for a diversion from your reality or lack there of:
Californication: mysoginistic but playful parody of life as a writer in LA. It tries to be deep and may achieve just that eventually, however at this point it simply morally derails women and their roles in LA society, something women in LA (forgive me for generalizing) have probably asked for.
Mad Men: Seemingly mysoginistic, but really only a depiction of an utterly mysoginistic, bigoted, closed hearted time period in our history. Cant blame them for acting and writing the truth. Intelligent gaze into the hearts and minds and flaws of all those personalities that made it up: buttoned up executives with lots to hide, Doris day housewives with lots to hide, working girls with lots to hide and even bohos with lots to hide. Seems mans tragic flaw has corrupted our world, work and home, for a very long time.
Tell Me You Love Me: 4 couples in different stages of their relationships explore the problems that go with them. FIghting through issues that in an ideal world would be worked through, but in real life might just remain issues to be worked through. Constantly.
All shows prove life, love and the pursuit of happiness (ah the age old cliche) are borderline unachievable at best.
Sould I take a hint?
Maybe it is no wonder that all three of these shows get me each time! I will blame it on the time I have, so much so that I can write to you about it all, or maybe its the 3 diet cokes I drank tonight keeping me up. I'm not supposed to drink Diet coke, but with 3 weeks until my surgery I have somehow deemed all inappropriate treatment of my voice allowable.
Stupid, really.
Cut to me at this very moment....About to sleep in my boyfriends empty bed in brooklyn while he rides DIsney land with his little nephews, my best friend is also my boyfriends roomate, she's in her bedroom lost again over her on and off boyfriend and there is a clock ticking above my head. Loudly.
Good thing I have ear plugs.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Dr. Michael J. Pitman
I found him. My surgeon. He came into my life out of the blue and I fell hard!
Seriously, friends, that is what it is like when you suffer from a medical problem that you just want to get taken care of, you are having problems with your insurance company and no one will work with you and suddenly you find a doctor, who is good at what he does, who takes your insurance and suddenly all is right in the world, all is in sync. Like falling in love. I am in medical love with Dr. Michael J. Pitman.
My insurance woes seem to be a thing of the past, my surgery is scheduled, my doctor is not only talented he is hot for gods sake!
September 26th, 2007, the cyst will be happily removed from the vocal chord so that i can continue my journey towards rock stardom, or at least so I can continue my journey somewhere and if that doesn't pan out, at least I can sing about it!
Crash, burn, crumble. My father tells me on Friday evening that September 26th, in fact, will not be my surgery date because he and my mother have planned a vacation for themselves that they are not willing to cancel. Which I suppose I understand, I mean they only go away on vacation about 4 times a year, so giving up this one would indefinitely ruin their lives. Now, because my doctor only does surgery the first and third wednesday of the month I have to put this surgery off another 2 weeks instead of one week. I appreciate my parents and their supportive attitude about what I do and what I am going through, but I would honestly rather get this over with now then have them in town when I get this over with. Basically, the bottom line here is that right now for the moment I am pissed as hell at my own creators for not shelling out whatever dough it is to postpone their trip by a week or two so that I can finish with this issue already. Not to mention that I am in fact an adult, at an age I'd rather not reveal, which entitles me the right to make my own decision, so that if i want to have this surgery while they are away they have no right to tell me I can't.
And that is my vent for the day, now its not my insurance, its not my trip to LA, its my parents getting in the way. An addition to my streak of bad luck. What to do.
In other news, because my inability to sing has caused me an inability to pursue my music personally and professionaly in general I have taken on a new project. Remember Mr. Derek James from one of my earlier entries? Well he has approached me and asked me for some help on his career. It happens to be that I know an exorbitant amount of people in this small New York music business and he seems to think I can help him get somewhere. So I booked him an opening slot on my friend and Geffen Recording artist Matt White's October tour, I booked him a slot at the New York City Marathon and we are working on some more fun things for Derek.
It is definitely a strange thing to transfer energy from my own career onto someone else's but in a way its humbling and its a great way to come up with ideas to help him and also to help myself in the long run.
And call me crazy, but out of all of this new artist management craziness, my boyfriend Dean and I decided to start up a company to manage and promote artists. We are calling it Rebel Spirit. Yes I know mixing business with pleasure can lead to disaster and with my luck it probably will, but still, at this point in my life I spend every day on the couch awaiting my surgery, so why not busy myself with something productive and music I believe in!
There you have it.
x,
red out loud
Seriously, friends, that is what it is like when you suffer from a medical problem that you just want to get taken care of, you are having problems with your insurance company and no one will work with you and suddenly you find a doctor, who is good at what he does, who takes your insurance and suddenly all is right in the world, all is in sync. Like falling in love. I am in medical love with Dr. Michael J. Pitman.
My insurance woes seem to be a thing of the past, my surgery is scheduled, my doctor is not only talented he is hot for gods sake!
September 26th, 2007, the cyst will be happily removed from the vocal chord so that i can continue my journey towards rock stardom, or at least so I can continue my journey somewhere and if that doesn't pan out, at least I can sing about it!
Crash, burn, crumble. My father tells me on Friday evening that September 26th, in fact, will not be my surgery date because he and my mother have planned a vacation for themselves that they are not willing to cancel. Which I suppose I understand, I mean they only go away on vacation about 4 times a year, so giving up this one would indefinitely ruin their lives. Now, because my doctor only does surgery the first and third wednesday of the month I have to put this surgery off another 2 weeks instead of one week. I appreciate my parents and their supportive attitude about what I do and what I am going through, but I would honestly rather get this over with now then have them in town when I get this over with. Basically, the bottom line here is that right now for the moment I am pissed as hell at my own creators for not shelling out whatever dough it is to postpone their trip by a week or two so that I can finish with this issue already. Not to mention that I am in fact an adult, at an age I'd rather not reveal, which entitles me the right to make my own decision, so that if i want to have this surgery while they are away they have no right to tell me I can't.
And that is my vent for the day, now its not my insurance, its not my trip to LA, its my parents getting in the way. An addition to my streak of bad luck. What to do.
In other news, because my inability to sing has caused me an inability to pursue my music personally and professionaly in general I have taken on a new project. Remember Mr. Derek James from one of my earlier entries? Well he has approached me and asked me for some help on his career. It happens to be that I know an exorbitant amount of people in this small New York music business and he seems to think I can help him get somewhere. So I booked him an opening slot on my friend and Geffen Recording artist Matt White's October tour, I booked him a slot at the New York City Marathon and we are working on some more fun things for Derek.
It is definitely a strange thing to transfer energy from my own career onto someone else's but in a way its humbling and its a great way to come up with ideas to help him and also to help myself in the long run.
And call me crazy, but out of all of this new artist management craziness, my boyfriend Dean and I decided to start up a company to manage and promote artists. We are calling it Rebel Spirit. Yes I know mixing business with pleasure can lead to disaster and with my luck it probably will, but still, at this point in my life I spend every day on the couch awaiting my surgery, so why not busy myself with something productive and music I believe in!
There you have it.
x,
red out loud
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Arlene's with Atomictom!
What an amazing show I had at Arlene's Grocery with Atomictom. I have not written about it as of yet and its been 3 weeks, one show and a 2 week trip to LA since then, but I must include it in this blog, because it was a big part of my "months before surgery."
Luke White of the Manhattan based band, Atomictom, is a dear friend, a dear person and a great talent. He and I have known each other for many years and have watched each other perform shows all over Manhattan. Finally we made great big plans to do a big show together, my last in NYC before my trip to LA and my break from performing.
It was a fantastic night, PACKED house (thank you to all of you that made it out) and the new band I tried out was wonderful (many members of my original band were out on the road with other artists). We worked out free drink tickets (with the help of the Major Who Team) to be given to all those in attendance and people had a blast. Luke and I were stoked and all went well.
I was more conscious then ever about singing, there were no throw away lines, no throw away notes, every moment counted to me because the truth is I just have no idea when I will be able to perform for my loyal new york friends and fans (or for anyone for that matter) again. It was emotional, it was scary and it was an absolute triumph!
The show was a perfect send off for my trip to LA, which you can read about below, was a super success and I can not wait to get back there!
x
Red Out Loud
Luke White of the Manhattan based band, Atomictom, is a dear friend, a dear person and a great talent. He and I have known each other for many years and have watched each other perform shows all over Manhattan. Finally we made great big plans to do a big show together, my last in NYC before my trip to LA and my break from performing.
It was a fantastic night, PACKED house (thank you to all of you that made it out) and the new band I tried out was wonderful (many members of my original band were out on the road with other artists). We worked out free drink tickets (with the help of the Major Who Team) to be given to all those in attendance and people had a blast. Luke and I were stoked and all went well.
I was more conscious then ever about singing, there were no throw away lines, no throw away notes, every moment counted to me because the truth is I just have no idea when I will be able to perform for my loyal new york friends and fans (or for anyone for that matter) again. It was emotional, it was scary and it was an absolute triumph!
The show was a perfect send off for my trip to LA, which you can read about below, was a super success and I can not wait to get back there!
x
Red Out Loud
Sicko
I have not seen the movie Mr. Moore calls his greatest piece, but I am now experiencing American Healthcare system personally, so why see the movie?
I need surgery on my vocal cords so that I can possibly achieve a career in music, one I have been pushing for since I am young. The only problem is that I am finding out that my insurance may not cover this surgery. No good reason other then the fact that I have only been on my insurance for three consecutive months. Here in this country you must not only have insurance, you must have it for at least 12 months consecutively if you want to have any medical needs covered. Surgery that is. So if you are just reading this and are just recognizing that you need to get yourself some health insurance, please a) get it and then b) dont plan on walking outside because if you, let's say, god forbid, get hit by a car you will have to live with your injuries for over a year if you want your health insurance provider to give you any money towards your need. Oh, unless you are rich, then you can pay THOUSANDS of dollars just to sit in a hospital and fix it yourself.
I found out about this injury to my vocal chords three months into my insurance membership, my first attempt to deal with my problem was to see a doctor out of my network, then to try and switch up to an insurance plan that he might accept then to find out that a new insurance plan would count this as a preexisting condition, then to find out that maybe I might pay my doctor out of pocket and still have my hospital stay covered, then to find out that most doctors only participate with the hospital, to then find out that there is a doctor in my network who is capable of this surgery to then find out it still may not be covered because of my short membership with my insurance company. My options are looking like I either will have to BEG to have this done, because without this surgery I will be stuck at home, with no way of making money until March which is when I would LEGALLY be allowed to have this surgery and be sure my insurance would cover it, my other option is to pay $15000 for this surgery. $10,000 of which goes to my hospital stay. This is an in and out procedure, so im not sure why 2 hours in the hospital costs $10,000. If you must know, the professional who is going to actually fix my instrument would only cost about $4,000 which is a reasonable price, in my opinion, to save your life blood!
This is my precarious situation. I sit, I wait, I talk to insurance companies and billing managers at doctors offices all day. It's amazing.
I need surgery on my vocal cords so that I can possibly achieve a career in music, one I have been pushing for since I am young. The only problem is that I am finding out that my insurance may not cover this surgery. No good reason other then the fact that I have only been on my insurance for three consecutive months. Here in this country you must not only have insurance, you must have it for at least 12 months consecutively if you want to have any medical needs covered. Surgery that is. So if you are just reading this and are just recognizing that you need to get yourself some health insurance, please a) get it and then b) dont plan on walking outside because if you, let's say, god forbid, get hit by a car you will have to live with your injuries for over a year if you want your health insurance provider to give you any money towards your need. Oh, unless you are rich, then you can pay THOUSANDS of dollars just to sit in a hospital and fix it yourself.
I found out about this injury to my vocal chords three months into my insurance membership, my first attempt to deal with my problem was to see a doctor out of my network, then to try and switch up to an insurance plan that he might accept then to find out that a new insurance plan would count this as a preexisting condition, then to find out that maybe I might pay my doctor out of pocket and still have my hospital stay covered, then to find out that most doctors only participate with the hospital, to then find out that there is a doctor in my network who is capable of this surgery to then find out it still may not be covered because of my short membership with my insurance company. My options are looking like I either will have to BEG to have this done, because without this surgery I will be stuck at home, with no way of making money until March which is when I would LEGALLY be allowed to have this surgery and be sure my insurance would cover it, my other option is to pay $15000 for this surgery. $10,000 of which goes to my hospital stay. This is an in and out procedure, so im not sure why 2 hours in the hospital costs $10,000. If you must know, the professional who is going to actually fix my instrument would only cost about $4,000 which is a reasonable price, in my opinion, to save your life blood!
This is my precarious situation. I sit, I wait, I talk to insurance companies and billing managers at doctors offices all day. It's amazing.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
The Mint
I wonder when my next show will be. Tonight I played my last scheduled show before my potentially scheduled vocal surgery. It was incredible. My first out of town show, here in LA and I brought out about 50 people, lots of industry and many new faces. The sound was great, everyone at the mint was so accommadating and my voice was in excellent shape. "The Secret" and the additionaly steroids really came in handy!
I started the night playing with Fools For APril- it was a blast to sing backgrounds for them, then I had my band come up and weplayed a set. It seemed to be well received, there was some talking in the audience, but there was also a lot of applause and a lot of great feedback after! A reporter from the Jewish Journal wants to discuss a potential piece, I have a meeting set with a potential lawyer and I met 2 of my myspace fans which was amazing!
I am now wired because we went to Swingers for food and drink and I am still on a high from the show- which is what I love so much about performing....
My voice felt today as though I had willed away my injury- and wouldn't that be a dream....we shall see...all i know is performing is addictive and I cant wait to get back up!
Thanks to all who made it out and helped me make this very successful!
More to come!
I started the night playing with Fools For APril- it was a blast to sing backgrounds for them, then I had my band come up and weplayed a set. It seemed to be well received, there was some talking in the audience, but there was also a lot of applause and a lot of great feedback after! A reporter from the Jewish Journal wants to discuss a potential piece, I have a meeting set with a potential lawyer and I met 2 of my myspace fans which was amazing!
I am now wired because we went to Swingers for food and drink and I am still on a high from the show- which is what I love so much about performing....
My voice felt today as though I had willed away my injury- and wouldn't that be a dream....we shall see...all i know is performing is addictive and I cant wait to get back up!
Thanks to all who made it out and helped me make this very successful!
More to come!
Monday, July 30, 2007
The night before
Tonight is the night before my show at the Mint. So far I have spent a very relaxing day for the most part on my own. I had a quick meeting at BMI- the publishing network I am attached to. These are non profit organizations that handle royalties for artists and in turn are great for artist relations. Well I have no royalties as of yet....but I do like to network and relate, so this meeting was a fun one. I am not sure how much they can actually help me, but its good to meet people in the business out here, even if everyone's answer seems to be that its just hard. Well, hard does not scare me! Then I met with my friend Elana who recently got married, we had coffee at the infamous coffee bean and tea leaf (here in bev hills), I went and ate some dinner on my own, read more of THE SECRET in order to maintain my positive attitude and now I am in my temporary LA apartment (Thank you JOSH ALTMAN)!
My boyfriend and I had a great idea today. We decided he should come and meet me out here. I figure by Sunday I could use some company, moral support, vacation fun (plus will be nice to have him take me out to eat since I am basically broke)!- Just kidding, baby.
Well this all started as a happy go lucky idea, figured should be easy to put into place, however my boyfriend recently moved here from London and has a UK credit card and an american debit/credit card, one which is not taking on www.cheaptickets.com. Note to self, never use cheaptickets.com again! Dean (my love) is English, VERY, his accent is strong, strong , strong. And while he thinks most people should understand it, well, they don't. I only recently began to understand what he says to me (perhaps indicating the reason for the success of our relationship- who knows ;)). Anyway- no matter which way either of us put his credit card information in, the system simply would not budge. Please keep in mind- this was over the course of 2 hours....my internet here running slow and the dogs at home tearing apart the apartment on Deans end. No matter how many times we tried the only thing we could manage was to incur the 5 dollar processing fee over and over again, but no ticket purchase.
Finally we were brain enouh to switche avenues, went through priceline and jetblue and Dean arrives at 10 pm on Sunday night.
Phew!
now all I have to worry about is my set list, my voice, my show and my turnout tomorrow! That's nothing compared to this tickets disaster!
I am thrilled about tomorrow night. I have added a keyboard player and percussionist to my set and it sounds brilliant. We were able to rehearse in a super cool rehearsal space in Hllywood called Coles....very stripped and rustic but cool all the same. My percussionist, whose last name really is Lovejoy, brought many percussion toys along with him to rehearsal and helped get a great sound for the otherwise very rootsy, stripped set. And he brought in a keyboard player who killed it with one day to prepare! Dov sounded great and so needless to say, I am super psyched to share my music with an almost entirely new audience tomorrow! My positive mental attitude (a new one for me) is telling me that things will go great, smoothly and singing will be a breeze!
I will let you know how it all pans out!
x,
Red Out Loud
ps i realize that i said super many times in that last paragraph! Sorrrry.....
My boyfriend and I had a great idea today. We decided he should come and meet me out here. I figure by Sunday I could use some company, moral support, vacation fun (plus will be nice to have him take me out to eat since I am basically broke)!- Just kidding, baby.
Well this all started as a happy go lucky idea, figured should be easy to put into place, however my boyfriend recently moved here from London and has a UK credit card and an american debit/credit card, one which is not taking on www.cheaptickets.com. Note to self, never use cheaptickets.com again! Dean (my love) is English, VERY, his accent is strong, strong , strong. And while he thinks most people should understand it, well, they don't. I only recently began to understand what he says to me (perhaps indicating the reason for the success of our relationship- who knows ;)). Anyway- no matter which way either of us put his credit card information in, the system simply would not budge. Please keep in mind- this was over the course of 2 hours....my internet here running slow and the dogs at home tearing apart the apartment on Deans end. No matter how many times we tried the only thing we could manage was to incur the 5 dollar processing fee over and over again, but no ticket purchase.
Finally we were brain enouh to switche avenues, went through priceline and jetblue and Dean arrives at 10 pm on Sunday night.
Phew!
now all I have to worry about is my set list, my voice, my show and my turnout tomorrow! That's nothing compared to this tickets disaster!
I am thrilled about tomorrow night. I have added a keyboard player and percussionist to my set and it sounds brilliant. We were able to rehearse in a super cool rehearsal space in Hllywood called Coles....very stripped and rustic but cool all the same. My percussionist, whose last name really is Lovejoy, brought many percussion toys along with him to rehearsal and helped get a great sound for the otherwise very rootsy, stripped set. And he brought in a keyboard player who killed it with one day to prepare! Dov sounded great and so needless to say, I am super psyched to share my music with an almost entirely new audience tomorrow! My positive mental attitude (a new one for me) is telling me that things will go great, smoothly and singing will be a breeze!
I will let you know how it all pans out!
x,
Red Out Loud
ps i realize that i said super many times in that last paragraph! Sorrrry.....
Sunday, July 29, 2007
West Coast
I find myself here in Los Angeles (Santa Monica at the moment, to be exact), awaiting my big show on Tuesday. The show is turning out to be a bigger one then expected. Not only has my friend Shai promoted the hell out of it to his good friends, he has promoted the hell out of it to various executives and assistants that he is friendly with at different agencies in the area. So, needless to say, I am now nervous. It is a strange experience to go out of town and play for an entirely new audience. I am used to Manhattan, my friends in Manhattan, the industry I know so well in Manhattan and the venues in Manhattan. The idea of playing for people who have never heard my music before, who are just coming out on a whim because a friend suggested they do is a very daunting thought to me. Don't get me wrong, I will have some family there and then of course some great friends of mine who live in the area, but for the most part it will be unfamiliar territory. And I am afraid people won't like it. I know it makes no sense to have negative thoughts, in fact, I know having negative thoughts often makes negative thoughts come true, so I am trying not to have them. I am trying to be excited about sharing the stage with new musicians, sharing my music with new people and having a chance to introduce myself and my music to some new people who may be able to help me take it in a new direction. I have my fingers crossed!
I decided last minute to hire a percussionist and then VERY last minute to hire a keyboard player. We have rehearsal tonight. My friend Dov, from the band Fools For April is opening up for me and then playing guitar and singing for me in my band. He seemed slightly perturbed to have me add last minute players to the band. I am not sure if its because he is playing acoustic with his partner and me on background vocals or because it means we had to add a rehearsal to our otherwise VERY laid back LA schedule....either way, sometimes you gotta do whats best for you and hope the people around you roll with it. He seems to be rolling. Last preperation act is to get him a guitar because unfortunately for both of us, upon his arrival to LA he found that his guitar had broken in a crucial spot and is being fixed, but will be ready only on MONDAY! Damn! More money out to the window.....for some reason I have no job for the first time in my life and my mentality about money has shifted from careful to money is no object. Its almost as though when I spend my money on my music its as if its going to some sort of charitable cause- so i feel no guilt!
Silly me....
And then in all of this, my voice.....I am so nercous about my voice. I just need it to hold strong tonight and then on Tuesday. I am praying that I sound good for this show. I may pop an extra steroid pill on Tuesday just to be sure. And after that I have no clue when I will be singing again. Which is such a strange feeling on so many levels. My surgery is not officially scheduled, due to insurance issues, which is a whole other entry full of material. Either way it means I have no time line for when I will recorver from the surgery and when I might sing again. Which makes this show mean so much to me on so many levels, because after this the fun is over. It will be all business from then until I can sing again. Promotin gmyself, meeting people, writing, networking and just putting things into place for when I am ready to continue on my professional journey.....
So scared! Pray for me. I am reading a book called the secret which is telling me if I simply think happy thoughts they will come true. So I am thinking happy thoughts!
x,
Red Out Loud
I decided last minute to hire a percussionist and then VERY last minute to hire a keyboard player. We have rehearsal tonight. My friend Dov, from the band Fools For April is opening up for me and then playing guitar and singing for me in my band. He seemed slightly perturbed to have me add last minute players to the band. I am not sure if its because he is playing acoustic with his partner and me on background vocals or because it means we had to add a rehearsal to our otherwise VERY laid back LA schedule....either way, sometimes you gotta do whats best for you and hope the people around you roll with it. He seems to be rolling. Last preperation act is to get him a guitar because unfortunately for both of us, upon his arrival to LA he found that his guitar had broken in a crucial spot and is being fixed, but will be ready only on MONDAY! Damn! More money out to the window.....for some reason I have no job for the first time in my life and my mentality about money has shifted from careful to money is no object. Its almost as though when I spend my money on my music its as if its going to some sort of charitable cause- so i feel no guilt!
Silly me....
And then in all of this, my voice.....I am so nercous about my voice. I just need it to hold strong tonight and then on Tuesday. I am praying that I sound good for this show. I may pop an extra steroid pill on Tuesday just to be sure. And after that I have no clue when I will be singing again. Which is such a strange feeling on so many levels. My surgery is not officially scheduled, due to insurance issues, which is a whole other entry full of material. Either way it means I have no time line for when I will recorver from the surgery and when I might sing again. Which makes this show mean so much to me on so many levels, because after this the fun is over. It will be all business from then until I can sing again. Promotin gmyself, meeting people, writing, networking and just putting things into place for when I am ready to continue on my professional journey.....
So scared! Pray for me. I am reading a book called the secret which is telling me if I simply think happy thoughts they will come true. So I am thinking happy thoughts!
x,
Red Out Loud
Monday, July 23, 2007
Depressed.
I am preparing for my trip to LA and for my show on Wednesday, by preparing I mean, barely getting anything done at all. In fact right now, instead of sifting through clothing trying to pick out some semblence of an few outfits that might allow me to appear a little less New York for my two week LA stint, I am watching Vh1 debate whether Ashlee or Jessica Simpson are better then then other.
When did either one of them become worth anybody's time?
I remember seeing Jessica Simpson play her radio promotion showcase at the Bottom Line when I was 18 years old. I was about to start school at new York University full of dreams of hitting New York running. I couldnt believe I was surrounded by all of these "executives." I went with a family friend who worked in the business and I thought I was so old and mature and it is only now, at this point in my life (mid twenties) that I can see just how young a girl is and probably acts at 18,19,20. Either way, this was one of my first experiences spending any time on any side of this crazy business of music. And I thought Jessica Simpson was just fabulous and gorgeous. Again, I knew very little, remember, I was only 18. Regardless, it solidified my presence on earth. It was what I was meant to do...It is what I am meant to do, I mean on every level I should be able to surpass a woman who is as talentless and brainless and in, my opinion, heartless as Jessica Simpson. Harsh, I know. And since then I have faced lots of "no's," lots of rejection and lots of defeat. But I have learned a hell of a lot and for some reason I am absolutely not ready to give up, even though now at this point, it seems that everything stands against me. The business is hard, but when your instrument fails on you then its almost as though you have nothing left.
Needless to say, wondering if you are ever going to sing again is far different then wondering if you will ever make it as an artist and here I am left with both. So with both questions in mind I find it hard to motivate to get ready for my big west coast trip, let alone my show on wednesday here in New York, let alone to get upstairs and even go to bed.
I guess some might call this a slight depression and maybe it is, then again it may be the steroids I am souped up on to get through these next few shows....who knows. All I know is I want out. Hopefully I will have all of this worked out soon, though this would entails scheduling my surgery, which would entail working out how I am going to pay for all of this, which is a story all its own and for another time.
Right now the debate over whether Kate Bosworth or Nicole Richie have bonier rib cages is far too enthralling for me.
x
Red Out Loud
When did either one of them become worth anybody's time?
I remember seeing Jessica Simpson play her radio promotion showcase at the Bottom Line when I was 18 years old. I was about to start school at new York University full of dreams of hitting New York running. I couldnt believe I was surrounded by all of these "executives." I went with a family friend who worked in the business and I thought I was so old and mature and it is only now, at this point in my life (mid twenties) that I can see just how young a girl is and probably acts at 18,19,20. Either way, this was one of my first experiences spending any time on any side of this crazy business of music. And I thought Jessica Simpson was just fabulous and gorgeous. Again, I knew very little, remember, I was only 18. Regardless, it solidified my presence on earth. It was what I was meant to do...It is what I am meant to do, I mean on every level I should be able to surpass a woman who is as talentless and brainless and in, my opinion, heartless as Jessica Simpson. Harsh, I know. And since then I have faced lots of "no's," lots of rejection and lots of defeat. But I have learned a hell of a lot and for some reason I am absolutely not ready to give up, even though now at this point, it seems that everything stands against me. The business is hard, but when your instrument fails on you then its almost as though you have nothing left.
Needless to say, wondering if you are ever going to sing again is far different then wondering if you will ever make it as an artist and here I am left with both. So with both questions in mind I find it hard to motivate to get ready for my big west coast trip, let alone my show on wednesday here in New York, let alone to get upstairs and even go to bed.
I guess some might call this a slight depression and maybe it is, then again it may be the steroids I am souped up on to get through these next few shows....who knows. All I know is I want out. Hopefully I will have all of this worked out soon, though this would entails scheduling my surgery, which would entail working out how I am going to pay for all of this, which is a story all its own and for another time.
Right now the debate over whether Kate Bosworth or Nicole Richie have bonier rib cages is far too enthralling for me.
x
Red Out Loud
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Mr. Derek James and other excitement!
When I found out that I had a cyst on my vocal cord, irrepairable (is that a word) without surgery I was headed towards a GREAT month of shows. I had quit my job as a party planner/promoter/office administrator (gotta pay bills)! And decided to face music head on. I have lived in Manhattan for 8 years, 4 and a half of which devoted entirely to my music career. But I always had a job, a job, though fun, that I took quite seriously. And lucrative it was. Throwing parties for my closest and not so close friends helped me maintain an INCREDIBLY flexible schedule while playing music and having what was probably too much fun. Smooth sailing, I thought, until I realized four years down the line that though I had become quite successful here in Manhattan as an artist, playing sold out shows to audiences at Canal Room, Joe's Pub and other venues, opening for great artists I truly respected and creating some very great tracks with some of the best musicians around that I was not 100% in it. So I got rid of the paying job, I got rid of my relatively expensive Gramercy apartment and I decided to take the leap. I could not decide if NYC was worh another full year so I became officially homeless (by that I mean that I decided to move home, 10 minutes from Manhattan, to a my parents huge house with swimming pool, hot tub and west wing all to myself). Not so horrible sounding. And I have to admit, its not. I probably should have done this quite a while back....but here I am 26, at home with my parents (not half as bad as it sounds) and ready to go for it. LA for August, tour the North East with my friend Derek's band (or plan to) in the fall.
And even July was sounding exciting, I had a GREAT double bill show set up with my friends AtomicTom (www.myspace.com/atomictom) at Arlene's- the big send off show to LA. Then my great friend Derek James asked me to sing back up for him at his big summer show at The Bowery Ballroom. This is a room that I not only love to see shows in, but its a room I would DIE to play in as my own band, but even to be asked to play as a back up singer was an honor. Derek is truly talented and not in that regular great voice great songs way, he has a sound all his own that brings to mind ragtime/swing/barbeshop quartets/and decades of music ranging from the 20's to the 60's. It's broad and concise in style all at once. And its addictive! Now this is not to say that learning the back ups has gone swimmingly- its been a challenge and with my voice in rough shape its been more challenging. BUT I wanted to be a part of this show so badly that when my doctors (first and 2nd opinion) told me that I would need surgery and reccoperation time of up to 2 months I said "PLEASE you have to help me get through July. My three most exciting shows, Derek, Arlene's and LA are just around the corner."
So I have been hyped up on steriods (prednisone- thats what they give you) all month hoping to get through these shows! And I intend to! Check back soon for footage from Derek's show this weekend....
xxx
Red Out Loud
And even July was sounding exciting, I had a GREAT double bill show set up with my friends AtomicTom (www.myspace.com/atomictom) at Arlene's- the big send off show to LA. Then my great friend Derek James asked me to sing back up for him at his big summer show at The Bowery Ballroom. This is a room that I not only love to see shows in, but its a room I would DIE to play in as my own band, but even to be asked to play as a back up singer was an honor. Derek is truly talented and not in that regular great voice great songs way, he has a sound all his own that brings to mind ragtime/swing/barbeshop quartets/and decades of music ranging from the 20's to the 60's. It's broad and concise in style all at once. And its addictive! Now this is not to say that learning the back ups has gone swimmingly- its been a challenge and with my voice in rough shape its been more challenging. BUT I wanted to be a part of this show so badly that when my doctors (first and 2nd opinion) told me that I would need surgery and reccoperation time of up to 2 months I said "PLEASE you have to help me get through July. My three most exciting shows, Derek, Arlene's and LA are just around the corner."
So I have been hyped up on steriods (prednisone- thats what they give you) all month hoping to get through these shows! And I intend to! Check back soon for footage from Derek's show this weekend....
xxx
Red Out Loud
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Do you have to be selfish to be an artist?
Yesterday I had a non artist friend of mine freely tell me that they believe that all artists, actors, musicians, singers etc. must be selfish at heart if their chosen life path is the be a performer. I have had a few non artist friends make this supposition in the past. And as the stubborn red headed/hot headed artist that I have always been I often fight my friends tooth and nail over a statement like this. There assumption has largely to do with the tabloids they read, the nightly entertainment shows they watch in suspense, the mtv reality shows that hold their interest longer then any shakespeare play might. All of this media portrayal of "stars" (actors, singers, personalities) makes non artists (or "regular people" as I often secretly refer to them) think that all an artist wants is recognition, media coverage, money, applause, attention.
And secretly, I kind of understand how they might assume that. I mean look around the amount of coverage surrounding "Paris goes to Jail" far surpasses the amount of media coverage regarding the current state in Sudan. Let me point out, Paris= NOT an artist. Paris= little rich girl gone wrong, parents who paid no attention so she needs to beg for the attention of the rest of the world. Sad. How many times have we read about LIndsay Lohan going to rehab (not how many times has she actually gone- because that is too many times to count for a recent 21 year old), but how much coverage did that get?! She is an artist, an actress, acclaimed, not by the critics that count, but at least by the general press, tabloid writer and public. Lindsay Lohan= poor girl with sicko mother who got her into this business too young. Who knows? maybe if LIndsay had been given the chance at normal life she might have been the next Hillary (probably not, I'm just making a point ;))!
So, I get it, non artists think- this is what artists want. Fame, money, rehab (maybe not rehab), jail (maybe not that either), attention and a beach house in Malibu (ok, I would definitely take the beach house- but who wouldn't).
But then let me ask you this?
What is your favortie thing to do on a saturday night? Long week at work doing something maybe more "beneficial" for the world then making music or movies.....say you are, a doctor? Fine, you want pne night off, what do you do? There are loads of options....you could sit on your couch and face the wall and think about life. To me that sounds like loads of fun. You could have a quiet night drink a glass of wine, hang with your significant other. You could take a long walk around your block, your neighborhood.....
And these are the only activities I can come up with that dont involve reaping the benefits of a talented artist. Truthfully you can't even read a book without reaping the talents of an artist. Author=artist. Book= entertainment. Forget turning on that television and watching that made for tv movie, forget heading out to the movie theater for the latest bond movie, forget going to see your favorite band play at the garden or even going to hear your favorite local jazz band play at the local bar or restaurant. Forget putting on your favorite cd to listen to your favorite singers who you can no longer see play live because they are long gone, but at least you have that record so that their art can live on. Forget it all....
Artists dont only provide you with activity a lot of artists, actors, musicians, movie makers songwriters provide you with some of your most fond lifelong memories, they provide you with moments of your life you won't forget, but that you can fortunately return to at least in memory because that movie or song will always be available to listen to or watch.
How many people remember the song that was playing when they had their first dance with a boy or girl. You are 12 years old (maybe older or younger) you are at some frightening school dance, bar or bat mitzvah, sweet 16, birthday party, whatever...and a slow song comes on. You look down at yourself, wonder if you will stand alone on the side of the dance floor on your own through the song, while other (girls in my case) get picked up one by one to dance to cyndi Lauper's "time after Time" for example. Then, without realizing someone grabs your hand leads you out and there youare, dancing, your first "slow dance," with pre teen 'x"'s arms around your waste your arms just touching his shoulders, its awkward, but its memorable and not just because its your first of many encounters like this one, but because there was a song that spurred the action. And you don't forget it and secretly you thank it, the song, cyndi, the stereo/DJ/band playing the song. There you have it. A memory. All thanks to some, um, selfish artist.
My father and mother appreciate music to such a high degree that its a part of their every day life. There s never a moment that music is not playing in our home, that my father isnt asking me, "deena, who do you think is singing that song?" or worse sometimes (but not his fault) "Deena, why dont you sing jazz standards?" Though the question irks me, I know he is well intentioned and that he just loves that style of music, it makes him think of his past, his family, his mother who adores that style of music. I point out then that the bands he loves to play on our long family car rides also include some major rock stars of his time, so not to discount the rock and roll of it all. He smiles, he knows i'm right ;). My father is a doctor, my mother is a therapist, but music is part of their lives, they couldn;t live without it, they may not be married without it! My dad brought over the Hall and Oats record with the song "Sarah Smiles" to propose to my mother (Sarah), when he was 20 years old. Cheesey maybe, but cute, and that is a memory etched in their minds forever.
But let me say this. Those of you that assume all artists are selfish may be right in some way. Yes the applause feels good, the praise feels great and I imagine, though im not there in my career yet, that selling your art (acting/singing/songs) must feel amazing. Buying a house in Malibu or the hamptons or bermuda or the west village or whatever expensive areae suts your taste must feel incredible, rewarding beyond belief.
None of that is why you are right about our inclination towards selfishness. It's true, if you want to be an artist, a successful artist you have to selfish. You have to pretty much devote your whole life to your craft, your passion, your dream. That means extensive training, hours of rehearsals, constant socializing within networks that might lead you towards someone who can help you make that big break. And that is selfish, a person gives a lot for that, family time, friend time, very often it means even giving up something as simple, but necessary as sleep. And, no, its not to save someone's life, but it is in order to be successful, get ahead and maybe, just maybe, get the opportunity to get paid to do what you feel you are best at. You send countless invites to people, friends, family inviting them to performances, shows, movie screenings, to buy your cd on itunes, then skip a night out for their birthday or engagement party or baby's naming because you have a show out of town, you just cant miss. It's selfish, for sure, it is. I am the first to admit it. But its all for the love of the art, its all for the dream and an artist may lose friends and worse family along the way but they are going for it, no matter what.
Then, of course, there is your instrument. Guess what, its not easy to sing, to act, to look right "for the part." And to manage all of that also requires a few selfish bones. Had I been a little more selfish (and believe me I am the first to admit I am selfish in many ways) I may not be sitting here in New Jersey on voice rest instead of visiting my Uncle for his 60th birthday up at his home in Lake George. Some artists call it sacrifices, but I suppose its selfishness as well. I mean it is, the pursuit of my career requires keeping my body and my vocal cords in good shape so that maybe one day I will be successful. I am pretty sure that other careers require sacrifices/selfish acts such as skipping out on family/friend affairs in order to gain a step towards success. In fact I am positive.
This long, wordy (maybe selfish) little entry is not some call for pity to us lonely artists around the world sacrificing every day for our art. And I am not denying the perks of fame and success. BUT I will say that if any of you feel so inclined to tell a dreamy artist friend of yours that all artists, actors, singers, musicians etc. are all selfish, think about what you are saying and exactly what you mean by that. Go listen to your favorite song, watch your favorite movie, think about the people involved who aren't highlighted weekly in your favorite tabloid (which by the way- without tabloids many of you would be bored to tears). Not every artist wants or gains that ttention. But yes, we are selfish, we kind of have to be, and hopefully you benefit from it!
I talk too much :) But can you blame me? In about a month I will be silent for a few weeks because I am going to try to get a doctor to put my vocal cords back together for me. Wait and see how long my blogs will be then!
Love to you all, artists and non artists alike! Hope whatever you want to do with your life is what you end up doing, no matter what it takes to get there! But dont forget people along the way because the people you hit on your way up you CRASH into on your way down. And that is a whole other entry for another time!
Back to my "voice rest!"
xRed Out Loud
And secretly, I kind of understand how they might assume that. I mean look around the amount of coverage surrounding "Paris goes to Jail" far surpasses the amount of media coverage regarding the current state in Sudan. Let me point out, Paris= NOT an artist. Paris= little rich girl gone wrong, parents who paid no attention so she needs to beg for the attention of the rest of the world. Sad. How many times have we read about LIndsay Lohan going to rehab (not how many times has she actually gone- because that is too many times to count for a recent 21 year old), but how much coverage did that get?! She is an artist, an actress, acclaimed, not by the critics that count, but at least by the general press, tabloid writer and public. Lindsay Lohan= poor girl with sicko mother who got her into this business too young. Who knows? maybe if LIndsay had been given the chance at normal life she might have been the next Hillary (probably not, I'm just making a point ;))!
So, I get it, non artists think- this is what artists want. Fame, money, rehab (maybe not rehab), jail (maybe not that either), attention and a beach house in Malibu (ok, I would definitely take the beach house- but who wouldn't).
But then let me ask you this?
What is your favortie thing to do on a saturday night? Long week at work doing something maybe more "beneficial" for the world then making music or movies.....say you are, a doctor? Fine, you want pne night off, what do you do? There are loads of options....you could sit on your couch and face the wall and think about life. To me that sounds like loads of fun. You could have a quiet night drink a glass of wine, hang with your significant other. You could take a long walk around your block, your neighborhood.....
And these are the only activities I can come up with that dont involve reaping the benefits of a talented artist. Truthfully you can't even read a book without reaping the talents of an artist. Author=artist. Book= entertainment. Forget turning on that television and watching that made for tv movie, forget heading out to the movie theater for the latest bond movie, forget going to see your favorite band play at the garden or even going to hear your favorite local jazz band play at the local bar or restaurant. Forget putting on your favorite cd to listen to your favorite singers who you can no longer see play live because they are long gone, but at least you have that record so that their art can live on. Forget it all....
Artists dont only provide you with activity a lot of artists, actors, musicians, movie makers songwriters provide you with some of your most fond lifelong memories, they provide you with moments of your life you won't forget, but that you can fortunately return to at least in memory because that movie or song will always be available to listen to or watch.
How many people remember the song that was playing when they had their first dance with a boy or girl. You are 12 years old (maybe older or younger) you are at some frightening school dance, bar or bat mitzvah, sweet 16, birthday party, whatever...and a slow song comes on. You look down at yourself, wonder if you will stand alone on the side of the dance floor on your own through the song, while other (girls in my case) get picked up one by one to dance to cyndi Lauper's "time after Time" for example. Then, without realizing someone grabs your hand leads you out and there youare, dancing, your first "slow dance," with pre teen 'x"'s arms around your waste your arms just touching his shoulders, its awkward, but its memorable and not just because its your first of many encounters like this one, but because there was a song that spurred the action. And you don't forget it and secretly you thank it, the song, cyndi, the stereo/DJ/band playing the song. There you have it. A memory. All thanks to some, um, selfish artist.
My father and mother appreciate music to such a high degree that its a part of their every day life. There s never a moment that music is not playing in our home, that my father isnt asking me, "deena, who do you think is singing that song?" or worse sometimes (but not his fault) "Deena, why dont you sing jazz standards?" Though the question irks me, I know he is well intentioned and that he just loves that style of music, it makes him think of his past, his family, his mother who adores that style of music. I point out then that the bands he loves to play on our long family car rides also include some major rock stars of his time, so not to discount the rock and roll of it all. He smiles, he knows i'm right ;). My father is a doctor, my mother is a therapist, but music is part of their lives, they couldn;t live without it, they may not be married without it! My dad brought over the Hall and Oats record with the song "Sarah Smiles" to propose to my mother (Sarah), when he was 20 years old. Cheesey maybe, but cute, and that is a memory etched in their minds forever.
But let me say this. Those of you that assume all artists are selfish may be right in some way. Yes the applause feels good, the praise feels great and I imagine, though im not there in my career yet, that selling your art (acting/singing/songs) must feel amazing. Buying a house in Malibu or the hamptons or bermuda or the west village or whatever expensive areae suts your taste must feel incredible, rewarding beyond belief.
None of that is why you are right about our inclination towards selfishness. It's true, if you want to be an artist, a successful artist you have to selfish. You have to pretty much devote your whole life to your craft, your passion, your dream. That means extensive training, hours of rehearsals, constant socializing within networks that might lead you towards someone who can help you make that big break. And that is selfish, a person gives a lot for that, family time, friend time, very often it means even giving up something as simple, but necessary as sleep. And, no, its not to save someone's life, but it is in order to be successful, get ahead and maybe, just maybe, get the opportunity to get paid to do what you feel you are best at. You send countless invites to people, friends, family inviting them to performances, shows, movie screenings, to buy your cd on itunes, then skip a night out for their birthday or engagement party or baby's naming because you have a show out of town, you just cant miss. It's selfish, for sure, it is. I am the first to admit it. But its all for the love of the art, its all for the dream and an artist may lose friends and worse family along the way but they are going for it, no matter what.
Then, of course, there is your instrument. Guess what, its not easy to sing, to act, to look right "for the part." And to manage all of that also requires a few selfish bones. Had I been a little more selfish (and believe me I am the first to admit I am selfish in many ways) I may not be sitting here in New Jersey on voice rest instead of visiting my Uncle for his 60th birthday up at his home in Lake George. Some artists call it sacrifices, but I suppose its selfishness as well. I mean it is, the pursuit of my career requires keeping my body and my vocal cords in good shape so that maybe one day I will be successful. I am pretty sure that other careers require sacrifices/selfish acts such as skipping out on family/friend affairs in order to gain a step towards success. In fact I am positive.
This long, wordy (maybe selfish) little entry is not some call for pity to us lonely artists around the world sacrificing every day for our art. And I am not denying the perks of fame and success. BUT I will say that if any of you feel so inclined to tell a dreamy artist friend of yours that all artists, actors, singers, musicians etc. are all selfish, think about what you are saying and exactly what you mean by that. Go listen to your favorite song, watch your favorite movie, think about the people involved who aren't highlighted weekly in your favorite tabloid (which by the way- without tabloids many of you would be bored to tears). Not every artist wants or gains that ttention. But yes, we are selfish, we kind of have to be, and hopefully you benefit from it!
I talk too much :) But can you blame me? In about a month I will be silent for a few weeks because I am going to try to get a doctor to put my vocal cords back together for me. Wait and see how long my blogs will be then!
Love to you all, artists and non artists alike! Hope whatever you want to do with your life is what you end up doing, no matter what it takes to get there! But dont forget people along the way because the people you hit on your way up you CRASH into on your way down. And that is a whole other entry for another time!
Back to my "voice rest!"
xRed Out Loud
Friday, June 29, 2007
I live at home!
Picture this:
Friday night, 10:45 pm, 26 year old girl, perched on parents bedroom lounge chair gearing up for a night of "Studio 60" catch up, waiting for my mother to finish up with her nightly routine in order to get started.
It's a real party here in Teaneck, New Jersey!
After high school I decided to study at Tisch School of the Arts at New York University. I did so because a)I got in early b)it was one of the schools my parents would allow me to attend to study drama and music because it was also a "real" school c)it was the number 1 school in the field of undergraduate acting training and d) (secretly) it was very close to home. Additional perk was of course that it was in downtown Manhattan, a city I dreamed of inhabiting for my entire life. Now I am not some small town girl, I grew up in Teaneck, albeit a suburb, it was still only miles from Manhattan. My start at NYU at 18 years old was not, as it was for many of my friends, my 1st or 2nd trip to Manhattan. In fact, I don't actually remember my first visit to Manhattan, the first sighting of the bright lights, the first subway ride I took, the first sight of the skyline, it was just always our city. My father works in Manhattan, any time there was something fun to do as a family (museums, shows, dinner) it happened in Manhattan. This is not to say that I didn't experience the same excitement as, say, the fresh faced, bright eyed student from Omaha, Nebraska felt upon finding out that I would get to pack my bags, drive accross the GWB for the umpteenth time and park my self and all of my belongings in the great city of Manhattan, the big apple, the city of bright lights, the city that never sleeps!
I was ready! Though only 15 minutes from home I felt entirely new, independent, larger then life, almost eratic. There was no focusing for me, everything was at my fingertips. New people, all kinds, I made my first friends of many different types. Having grown up in a religious Jewish community and going to religious Jewish schools I was generally surrounded by Jewish people. I had even opted to dorm at NYU with my friend from highschool, so branching out was exciting. And I did.
I graduated from College 4 years ago, and through college I thought I had experienced it all, I thought there was not possibly more to the city that I had not already uncovered, people, places, shows, parties and so on.
I had not even made my first trip to Brooklyn yet ;) What did I know.....
Over the next 4 years New York City opened up worlds to me I had no idea even existed. I worked at a record label, PR firm, nightclubs, hob nobbed with celebrities (I did just use that phrase didn't I), hung with the starving-est of artist. Dated the wrong people, dated the right people and did wrong by them. Experience after experience. And I loved it. There was nothing to stop me in Manhattan. It was my town.
In all of that my favorite part of life was my music. I think many people reading this expect this blog to be all about the music I write, sing, play, listen to, new tracks, new tunes, new shows. My influences, my artistic journey, my life as an artist. Well, this is it. Much of life as an artist, few will lead on, has nothing to do with the creation of your art or music in my case. It is experience. You need to have it in order to build material, in order to write. The other side of being an artist, aside from creating art, is networking, being out, meeting a zillion people, talking your ass off and working your shit like never before. I'm a natural when it comes to that. Talking to people is my game, its why I did well in nightlife, as a party promoter, its why PR came easy to me and its hopefully why I will find success as an artist.
And all of this is what has taken up pretty much the last half of my 8 year stint in the big city. I attempted to conquer its small world. And it was a blast.
In the meantime of all of this I suffered from a major voice disorder, nodules, polyps, swollen cords and I fought through it all. Sleep meant little to me, drinking with friends at parties meant a lot, staying out late at rock shows meant more and writing and singing my music to whomever would listen mean the MOST.
So I did it all and I did myself in. People would often look at me and say, how do you do this? It will catch up to you, you are burning your candle at all ends, yada yada.
Whoever said that to me, this part of my blog is an ode to you.
How right you were.
Because (pan left back to current scene) I am sitting here typing this blog, sitting home on a friday night (in my parents house, where I now LIVE), taking it easy, hoping to retrieve some semblance of myself in order to keep on playing and singing my music.
After 8 years experiencing life in Manhattan, I have opted to give up my Gramercy apartment, give up the opportunity to have a fabulous job in the fabulous nightlife/events industry and continue on my pursuit of my dream to play my music, to be a successful musician and make it my life.
I made this brave decision before I found out I had done myself so far in that a lump had manifested itself on my vocal cord a trial which stood as a major road block in all of my majorly brave plans.
So still I sit, here at home, only now I wonder what the hell will happen to me. My plan of touring the west coast in August and the east coast (with my lovely friend Derek James) has to be put on somewhat of a hold as I figure out when and how I will afford this major surgery I apparently need.
Still I will spend my 2 weeks in LA, checking out that lifestyle, playing a great show with my friends Fools For April on the bill. But then I will return home, to New Jersey! Not Manhattan! Reasess my life, fix my voice, get better and get out on that North East tour by MAYBE November. This is if everything goes well.
If not.
It looks like watching Studio 60 reruns from my parents bedroom arm chair will be my life.
Y'all better pray for me!
I promise the next blog will be music related ;) I actually have many fun things to let you all know about.
xRed Out Loud
Friday night, 10:45 pm, 26 year old girl, perched on parents bedroom lounge chair gearing up for a night of "Studio 60" catch up, waiting for my mother to finish up with her nightly routine in order to get started.
It's a real party here in Teaneck, New Jersey!
After high school I decided to study at Tisch School of the Arts at New York University. I did so because a)I got in early b)it was one of the schools my parents would allow me to attend to study drama and music because it was also a "real" school c)it was the number 1 school in the field of undergraduate acting training and d) (secretly) it was very close to home. Additional perk was of course that it was in downtown Manhattan, a city I dreamed of inhabiting for my entire life. Now I am not some small town girl, I grew up in Teaneck, albeit a suburb, it was still only miles from Manhattan. My start at NYU at 18 years old was not, as it was for many of my friends, my 1st or 2nd trip to Manhattan. In fact, I don't actually remember my first visit to Manhattan, the first sighting of the bright lights, the first subway ride I took, the first sight of the skyline, it was just always our city. My father works in Manhattan, any time there was something fun to do as a family (museums, shows, dinner) it happened in Manhattan. This is not to say that I didn't experience the same excitement as, say, the fresh faced, bright eyed student from Omaha, Nebraska felt upon finding out that I would get to pack my bags, drive accross the GWB for the umpteenth time and park my self and all of my belongings in the great city of Manhattan, the big apple, the city of bright lights, the city that never sleeps!
I was ready! Though only 15 minutes from home I felt entirely new, independent, larger then life, almost eratic. There was no focusing for me, everything was at my fingertips. New people, all kinds, I made my first friends of many different types. Having grown up in a religious Jewish community and going to religious Jewish schools I was generally surrounded by Jewish people. I had even opted to dorm at NYU with my friend from highschool, so branching out was exciting. And I did.
I graduated from College 4 years ago, and through college I thought I had experienced it all, I thought there was not possibly more to the city that I had not already uncovered, people, places, shows, parties and so on.
I had not even made my first trip to Brooklyn yet ;) What did I know.....
Over the next 4 years New York City opened up worlds to me I had no idea even existed. I worked at a record label, PR firm, nightclubs, hob nobbed with celebrities (I did just use that phrase didn't I), hung with the starving-est of artist. Dated the wrong people, dated the right people and did wrong by them. Experience after experience. And I loved it. There was nothing to stop me in Manhattan. It was my town.
In all of that my favorite part of life was my music. I think many people reading this expect this blog to be all about the music I write, sing, play, listen to, new tracks, new tunes, new shows. My influences, my artistic journey, my life as an artist. Well, this is it. Much of life as an artist, few will lead on, has nothing to do with the creation of your art or music in my case. It is experience. You need to have it in order to build material, in order to write. The other side of being an artist, aside from creating art, is networking, being out, meeting a zillion people, talking your ass off and working your shit like never before. I'm a natural when it comes to that. Talking to people is my game, its why I did well in nightlife, as a party promoter, its why PR came easy to me and its hopefully why I will find success as an artist.
And all of this is what has taken up pretty much the last half of my 8 year stint in the big city. I attempted to conquer its small world. And it was a blast.
In the meantime of all of this I suffered from a major voice disorder, nodules, polyps, swollen cords and I fought through it all. Sleep meant little to me, drinking with friends at parties meant a lot, staying out late at rock shows meant more and writing and singing my music to whomever would listen mean the MOST.
So I did it all and I did myself in. People would often look at me and say, how do you do this? It will catch up to you, you are burning your candle at all ends, yada yada.
Whoever said that to me, this part of my blog is an ode to you.
How right you were.
Because (pan left back to current scene) I am sitting here typing this blog, sitting home on a friday night (in my parents house, where I now LIVE), taking it easy, hoping to retrieve some semblance of myself in order to keep on playing and singing my music.
After 8 years experiencing life in Manhattan, I have opted to give up my Gramercy apartment, give up the opportunity to have a fabulous job in the fabulous nightlife/events industry and continue on my pursuit of my dream to play my music, to be a successful musician and make it my life.
I made this brave decision before I found out I had done myself so far in that a lump had manifested itself on my vocal cord a trial which stood as a major road block in all of my majorly brave plans.
So still I sit, here at home, only now I wonder what the hell will happen to me. My plan of touring the west coast in August and the east coast (with my lovely friend Derek James) has to be put on somewhat of a hold as I figure out when and how I will afford this major surgery I apparently need.
Still I will spend my 2 weeks in LA, checking out that lifestyle, playing a great show with my friends Fools For April on the bill. But then I will return home, to New Jersey! Not Manhattan! Reasess my life, fix my voice, get better and get out on that North East tour by MAYBE November. This is if everything goes well.
If not.
It looks like watching Studio 60 reruns from my parents bedroom arm chair will be my life.
Y'all better pray for me!
I promise the next blog will be music related ;) I actually have many fun things to let you all know about.
xRed Out Loud
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
TO DREADED DOC!
Yesterday I got my second opinion....the scary second opinion!
I went back to my original doctor, the one who told me I had damaged my voice the first time around. The reason I went to see him- Dr. Peak Woo- is because he is one of the most renowned surgeons for this type of disorder AND the speech Pathologist that works with him and with his patients is Dr. Linda Carroll, who for all intents and purposes saved my life four years ago when she taught me how to sing around and work through the nodules I had developed on my chords.
When I found out about this new injury I thought it would be best to see the doctor with the best speech pathologist on staff and so Dr. Woo was an obvious choice!
Getting to the doctor was no easy feat on the subway in 95 degree weather but I had my friend Nicole with me to videotape the entire thing, so at least it was entertaining. Nicole- FYI- is probably one of my most entertaining friends who is also immensely talented and has offered her hand in helping me not only blog about this experience but video tape and edit it into a documentary as well.
(THANKS NICOLE)!
Anyway after about an hour of waiting to see Dr. Woo and an influx of patients with seemingly worse problems then my own, Nicole and I finally made our way into the examination room.
The examination room consists of an examination chair, sat upright, a couple of computer and tv monitors and a scope. There must be a full length term for this "scope," but I will just stick with the abbreviated version. "scope." A long, narrow, metal tube like contraption that they essentially stick down your throat to magnify your vocal cords in order to check out what is wrong with them.
Dr. Woo was a tiny bit hesitant about being videotaped for the purpose of the blog and the piece nicole and I are working on, but we warmed him up and got some good footage, especially of the actual scope, which you guys will see up here soon.
It's strange to go and have your insides looked at. Part of your insides that are so important to you and its strange to think the tiniest of muscle produces sound out of a persons body. But thats how it works. These tiny little vibrating mucousy looking muscles in a v shape form (truthfully one might confuse the photo with another type of V shaped exam), make sound. All different kinds of sound...people use the sound for singing, words, laughing, crying and any kind of emoting at all. two little mucousy muscles. You dont think when you speak that they can be damaged easily and changed forever. I doubt the regular person thinks about it. I didn't start thinking about that until I was 21 and now I will continue to think about it, probably, for the rest of my life.
So the doctor told me what I expected to hear, "the cyst is smaller, but its there, you will likely need surgery." BUT he did say I could have some more DRUGGSSSS to get through the next month of shows that I have, that LA is still in my future! There is a therapist there that I can work with while Im out there doing my show and working. BUT when I come home in mid August I will be home bound, surgery bound and silence bound. No singing again until likely October. (at the earliest).
I have to tell you, the first thing I thought was...."what should my last word be right before I go down for this very frightening surgery?"
Then I thought, "will I sing again?"
We shall see.....positive attitude and Dr. Woo should do the trick.
I went back to my original doctor, the one who told me I had damaged my voice the first time around. The reason I went to see him- Dr. Peak Woo- is because he is one of the most renowned surgeons for this type of disorder AND the speech Pathologist that works with him and with his patients is Dr. Linda Carroll, who for all intents and purposes saved my life four years ago when she taught me how to sing around and work through the nodules I had developed on my chords.
When I found out about this new injury I thought it would be best to see the doctor with the best speech pathologist on staff and so Dr. Woo was an obvious choice!
Getting to the doctor was no easy feat on the subway in 95 degree weather but I had my friend Nicole with me to videotape the entire thing, so at least it was entertaining. Nicole- FYI- is probably one of my most entertaining friends who is also immensely talented and has offered her hand in helping me not only blog about this experience but video tape and edit it into a documentary as well.
(THANKS NICOLE)!
Anyway after about an hour of waiting to see Dr. Woo and an influx of patients with seemingly worse problems then my own, Nicole and I finally made our way into the examination room.
The examination room consists of an examination chair, sat upright, a couple of computer and tv monitors and a scope. There must be a full length term for this "scope," but I will just stick with the abbreviated version. "scope." A long, narrow, metal tube like contraption that they essentially stick down your throat to magnify your vocal cords in order to check out what is wrong with them.
Dr. Woo was a tiny bit hesitant about being videotaped for the purpose of the blog and the piece nicole and I are working on, but we warmed him up and got some good footage, especially of the actual scope, which you guys will see up here soon.
It's strange to go and have your insides looked at. Part of your insides that are so important to you and its strange to think the tiniest of muscle produces sound out of a persons body. But thats how it works. These tiny little vibrating mucousy looking muscles in a v shape form (truthfully one might confuse the photo with another type of V shaped exam), make sound. All different kinds of sound...people use the sound for singing, words, laughing, crying and any kind of emoting at all. two little mucousy muscles. You dont think when you speak that they can be damaged easily and changed forever. I doubt the regular person thinks about it. I didn't start thinking about that until I was 21 and now I will continue to think about it, probably, for the rest of my life.
So the doctor told me what I expected to hear, "the cyst is smaller, but its there, you will likely need surgery." BUT he did say I could have some more DRUGGSSSS to get through the next month of shows that I have, that LA is still in my future! There is a therapist there that I can work with while Im out there doing my show and working. BUT when I come home in mid August I will be home bound, surgery bound and silence bound. No singing again until likely October. (at the earliest).
I have to tell you, the first thing I thought was...."what should my last word be right before I go down for this very frightening surgery?"
Then I thought, "will I sing again?"
We shall see.....positive attitude and Dr. Woo should do the trick.
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