So, I thought I'd foil my own hair. I told myself, "Sure! I've done it many times." (LIE.... I've died my hair many times but the number of times I've foiled in base and highlights = 0.)
Always cavalier, I went ahead and got started, using 2 colors + a paint brush, just like I've seen stylists- and their assistants- do in salons.
Well, somehow, I forgot that
A. they have training, permits, degrees, and CERTIFICATES from the STATE permitting such behavior
B. they're know what doing
C. I don't, in fact, have 8 arms or eyes on the back of my head,
aaaand
D. I'm an idiot.
One box of foil, three boxes of dye, four hours of labor plus one hour bleaching the sink (I splattered,) a healthy dose of panic attack, and quite a lot of @#$%!!!!!, and the results!???!?!
Survey says:
I will never, ever, ever lie to myself again. About hair, anyway. Well, okay, not in the next 3 weeks.
And it looks, uh, chestnut brown.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
अ न्यू दरें Poem
Sparking awake from sleep
I breathe in a line of ancient poetry
and am surprised to discover
I am no longer running from the crumbling tower in my dreams
but am alone in the ring of silence.
What is this force which keeps me
waking, running, sleeping, then waking again?
What is this voice that comes through
In waves and waves and waves?
The crest falls.
Day begins and rest is no more.
I shall put aside, then, these visions,
and tend to the mundane things that
circle the world.
Coffee. Work. Sister. Friend.
And secretly, in stolen moments,
I close my eyes and dream-
I breathe in a line of ancient poetry
and am surprised to discover
I am no longer running from the crumbling tower in my dreams
but am alone in the ring of silence.
What is this force which keeps me
waking, running, sleeping, then waking again?
What is this voice that comes through
In waves and waves and waves?
The crest falls.
Day begins and rest is no more.
I shall put aside, then, these visions,
and tend to the mundane things that
circle the world.
Coffee. Work. Sister. Friend.
And secretly, in stolen moments,
I close my eyes and dream-
Monday, August 23, 2010
A New Champion
A New Champion
An eventful morning during my run at the park: I met a new friend there.
As many of you know, I am friendly with many of the homeless folks who live at the park near my home in Los Angeles. Today there was a new gentleman. I call him "Russell" after Russell Crowe in Gladiator, because at our first meeting, he became a champion!
There is a pathway that weaves around the park at about .8 miles. I run that pathway between 3 and 6 times every day, depending upon my mood and time commitments.At the southern bend of the trail, I first saw Russell. He wore his hair like a Knight, short bangs cut straight across and around, but with slightly longer hair in back. It was dark dark brown with tints of grey, and he wore a full beard. His skin was dark and leathery from the southern California sun. But his eyes were bright, a deep, deep hazel, with a light that shone from behind them.
He saw me looking at him and looked right at me. I smiled a small smile as I ran toward him, the Trumpet Voluntary (The Prince of Denmark's March) played. "Russell" looked right at me, nodded, and nodded at the foe that stood between us (which, for me, I could see was a sprinkler watering the grounds, but who knew what it was for him.) He proceeded to MARCH RIGHT THROUGH THE SPRINKLER as I passed him.
I kept running.
As I curved around the southern bend the second time, his back was to me, but I saw him waiting in his long, dark green trench coat. As I approached him, Jeff Buckley singing in French in my IPod this time around, I saw Russell stiffen. In that way that I KNEW he was seeing some foe between us on the first approach, so I knew he sensed me sensing him as I approached him this time. I felt a fear and a quickening, and kept running.
After all, I don't know this fellow. Most of the homeless folks that live at the park by my house- at least the ones I have given food or talked to- are mentally ill. I don't know Russell yet. I don't know if he would even like me writing about him on FB yet, because, well, I've never asked any of my other folks if they'd mind or not. Anyway....
The third time round, which was to be my final round on this bright morning, he was waiting for me, at the same bend, standing tall and proud as any warrior in victory. He beamed when he saw me. He stood, his eyes in a wide V, rooting deep into the ground, two tree trunks joining in the center of his hero's chest, his hands at his hips in strength and courage. He looked right into my eyes, and I looked right into his. As I do for all people I see, I said a quick prayer for wholeness, healing, and peace. He smiled. I smiled. He nodded his head, a quick bow of recognition and motioned his right hand. "Let her pass."
As for every other moment of his life, i cannot say. But in this moment, he was clear and pure joy.
Amazing.
So, thanks, Russell!
You made my day.
An eventful morning during my run at the park: I met a new friend there.
As many of you know, I am friendly with many of the homeless folks who live at the park near my home in Los Angeles. Today there was a new gentleman. I call him "Russell" after Russell Crowe in Gladiator, because at our first meeting, he became a champion!
There is a pathway that weaves around the park at about .8 miles. I run that pathway between 3 and 6 times every day, depending upon my mood and time commitments.At the southern bend of the trail, I first saw Russell. He wore his hair like a Knight, short bangs cut straight across and around, but with slightly longer hair in back. It was dark dark brown with tints of grey, and he wore a full beard. His skin was dark and leathery from the southern California sun. But his eyes were bright, a deep, deep hazel, with a light that shone from behind them.
He saw me looking at him and looked right at me. I smiled a small smile as I ran toward him, the Trumpet Voluntary (The Prince of Denmark's March) played. "Russell" looked right at me, nodded, and nodded at the foe that stood between us (which, for me, I could see was a sprinkler watering the grounds, but who knew what it was for him.) He proceeded to MARCH RIGHT THROUGH THE SPRINKLER as I passed him.
I kept running.
As I curved around the southern bend the second time, his back was to me, but I saw him waiting in his long, dark green trench coat. As I approached him, Jeff Buckley singing in French in my IPod this time around, I saw Russell stiffen. In that way that I KNEW he was seeing some foe between us on the first approach, so I knew he sensed me sensing him as I approached him this time. I felt a fear and a quickening, and kept running.
After all, I don't know this fellow. Most of the homeless folks that live at the park by my house- at least the ones I have given food or talked to- are mentally ill. I don't know Russell yet. I don't know if he would even like me writing about him on FB yet, because, well, I've never asked any of my other folks if they'd mind or not. Anyway....
The third time round, which was to be my final round on this bright morning, he was waiting for me, at the same bend, standing tall and proud as any warrior in victory. He beamed when he saw me. He stood, his eyes in a wide V, rooting deep into the ground, two tree trunks joining in the center of his hero's chest, his hands at his hips in strength and courage. He looked right into my eyes, and I looked right into his. As I do for all people I see, I said a quick prayer for wholeness, healing, and peace. He smiled. I smiled. He nodded his head, a quick bow of recognition and motioned his right hand. "Let her pass."
As for every other moment of his life, i cannot say. But in this moment, he was clear and pure joy.
Amazing.
So, thanks, Russell!
You made my day.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
In Honor of ...
August 21st, 2010
In Honor of Scarlett
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged- I just finished a big ghost writing/ editing project for someone else and it took everything in me, in terms of writing time.
And in the meantime, so much has been happening! I’ve got a video coming out September 16th, I’ve got a novel coming out soon and a slew of great cabaret performances coming up… and meanwhile, life is beautiful here on my little street in my City of Angels! The sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, my upstairs neighbor is still doing construction on his kitchen, (three years later, god bless my sweet lug of a Liverpoolian neighbor) and I am IN JOY.
For me, so much of blogging feels very much like I’m writing a letter to a dear, dear friend… and so I want to update you, dear friend, (I suppose, much like Anne Frank’s “Kitty”) but I also have something I want to ruminate about and through in this space.
Today is my niece’s 4th birthday. She is the apple of my eye, and my favorite little bean. And not just because she looks like the blonde baby version of me (ahaha!) (right down to her energy and drama.) (Which has mellowed out in me now that I’m a grown-up…) And I want very much for her to have joy, and peace, and presence, and the ability to be in life on life’s terms… and I want that because I DESPERATELY want her to AVOID the trials and tribulations I put myself and my family through as a teenager and during my early 20s. And… from which I pray every day to stay delivered from…. and with which I offer myself up to help others if they want it….
I know that life happens as it happens, whether we want it to or not, but at least, I am grateful that each generation gets, in some ways, smarter than the last. But we who have read books and history and watched the skies and heard the breeze through the trees… we know that, la plus ça change, la plus c’est la meme chose! Each generation is, in fact, smarter than the last, and each wave of technology brings new trials and new stupidities, and in the end, we are all equaled by nature.
So… what I ant to write about today is possibility in the face of such strange dangers.
I like to be honest about my life experience, my dealings with eating disorders, addiction, depression, and more importantly, my recovery and my growth, because I’m proud of my commitment to health, and because there is nothing to be ashamed about when it comes to the communion of human experience. We all have our issues. And I figure, if I can help even one person have faith in the possibility of health, and the release of suffering, then my life is not in VAIN!
God forbid my life should be in vain, but then again, I’ve already given my-SELF the gift of faith. Because I am LIVING PROOF that LIFE is possible, whether that means self-love, self-esteem, overcoming illness and disease, any of it. All of it. I want to help anyone who asks, as best I can…. whether you’re my homeless friend who hangs out at the Fairfax Library, my songwriting student I’m mentoring, or just some stranger off in some strange corner of the universe, reading this on your laptop…. So. I write this for you, and I write this for me, and I write this for Scarlett, and I write this for all the girls that were in my rehab for eating disorders, depression and suicide- wherever all of you are! I love you, and I hope whether you’re in heaven or on earth, in the earth or on top of the world… I hope you found peace. I hope you find peace. And I know: You Are Peace.
COMMERCIAL BREAK: “As I walk along, I wonder, a-what went wrong with our love, a love that was so strong…” Del Shannon flipped on, randomly, on my iPod, just now. This song was one of my Dad’s favorites growing up. He loved all his “oldies.” And I used to sing this song and a feeling would grow in me that was so deep and sorrowful… ah, drama. Leave it to the Piscean child to hook into the misery of the world and then offer that at the potluck (haha!) (I laugh because I know now, it isn’t real. Someone go back and tell 8 year old me that!)
So what spurned this blog, in addition to my little niecey’s birthday?
This article my mother sent me:
http://www.twincities.com/ci_15759298?source=email&nclick_check=1
She was beautiful, outgoing and too young to die.
That's what friends of Arianna Tatum, 20, said as they gathered on the White Bear Avenue bridge over Interstate 94 in St. Paul on Thursday.
Tatum, of St. Paul, reportedly kicked off her sandals, crawled over a fence on the overpass and leapt onto the eastbound side of the interstate Wednesday afternoon, said Lt. Eric Roeske, Minnesota State Patrol spokesman.
Three or four passing vehicles struck Tatum about 2:25 p.m. Wednesday, the State Patrol said. She died at the scene.
"It's very tragic, very devastating, very unexpected," said Jackie Steele, Tatum's aunt. "Arianna was very well-loved by her family, and whenever she would go through different things, she would call someone and
Family and friends of Arianna Tatum have left balloons, flowers, stuffed animals and notes on the White Bear Avenue overpass where she jumped to her death. (Mara Gottfried | Pioneer Press)
talk. So for her to get to the point when she didn't talk to any of us, I don't know."
Family and friends left stuffed animals, flowers, balloons and notes on the overpass.
"She would do anything for her friends," said Janeen Roy, who met Tatum in ninth grade at Como Park Senior High School. "She was generous, had a big heart and could sing like an angel."
Tatum's mother, who could not be reached for comment, wrote on her Facebook page that she had lost her first-born daughter, "my best friend, my world. If you are hurting TELL SOMEONE & LET THEM HELP."
My mother loves to send me these kinds of emails, and I always respond with emails that say: Prayers sent, and I’m great.
Why? Because I was this girl.
Let’s pray for this girl, and teach everyone we know, all our Ophelias, all our Erins, to take responsibility for telling the truth and giving commitment to joy.
Double lives, man, they’ll kill you. Literally. Okay, so I’m not saying this girl led a double life. I couldn’t presume to know her version of the Ophelia story (I’m referring to that book, “Reviving Ophelia,” that came out around the 90s, in the ebb and tide of other issues I lived through during the 90s, the generation of Grunge, of Kurt and Courtney, of waifs and Sassy, of Lilith Fair… and THAT is a reference to, of course, Hamlet’s Ophelia, who kills herself over the loss of love and support from not only her love, Hamlet, but from her father and her brother….) (and on and on. Lack of belief in herself, no place in the world, no ability to tell the truth of life.)
But I know my version. And I was her then… and so I have a feeling about things, such as I do… that she felt so ashamed of her secrets (and they may have been as grand or as miniscule as any others, but to her, they were obviously overwhelming.) I never met this girl specifically, but I have met her again and again and I pray for the day when THIS tragic ending… ends….
Like I said, I was her. When I was her age… rather, a bit younger…. 20 was, well, like her, at 20 I was in the middle of my fuck-its, but I was still SORT of trying to hold it together, kind of. Old habits die hard. But in high school? I was, on the outside, kind of. … perfect. I mean, I hate to use that word because I’m not trying to say I was. I was soooooo far from. And we all know perfect is an unattainable concept. It’ll keep you distracted and chasing as long as you believe it exists. But I was all those good girl things: first in my class, musically gifted, published in journals for my poetry and short stories at the age of 16, awarded scholarships to every college I applied to… I was lean and healthy (so I PRETENDED) and BLAH BLAH BLAH ON AND ON AND ON. Just call me the Little Miss Goody Two Shoes CLICHÉ, ‘cause I was!
But I was also leading this double life full of dating older men, having eating disorders, and later, other addictions, you know. The whole deal.
And I kept it all to myself. I think I started telling people…. my sister… a trusted girlfriend who kept my secrets for me…. until there were so many secrets I stopped knowing what, if anything, I could talk about, and so I stopped talking….
And then I did the next cliché. I got the fuck-its. Real bad. All this keeping it together. All this pressure. All this “gotta get somewhere” “can’t screw up” “can’t lose my man” “can’t talk about my man” “now there’s two men” “can’t gain weight” “can’t eat” “can’t not eat” “must write great American novel by age 21” “college is really in the way of my fucking novel writing” “can’t eat this package of Fig Newtons and go sing opera here at semi-prestigious but not too prestigious so as to not piss off my peers and family music school” “can’t not eat this package of Fig Newtwons” “oh shit I just went from anorexic to bulimic in a heartbeat” “well there goes my singing career” “can’t be perfect? I’m worthless, might as well die” thoughts just got the better of me.
Thank god for drama, really. Because I have friends and clients who let those thought patterns go on for years and years and years. But I was lucky. I got out and went to massage school and forged my own path. I took the road less taken and got real public about my life so that I could get real healthy. Whew!
Hahahahaha! It only took me ten (or fifteen!) (depending on how far back we want to look) more years, eight therapists, a bad-ass boyfriend who taught me how to have TOO much fun, moving around 27 times back and forth across the globe, a few more dramas in the love department, several trips to India, (just call me Liz Gilbert) (THANK GOD FOR HER!!!!), some health wake up calls, a few embarrassing nights in a bar with a guy I really liked, a teacher who wouldn’t put up with my bullshit, and a deep love for my sister, my niece, and my other niece, a series of profound spiritual/ mystical/ love/ god awakenings… a commitment to meditation, health, sobriety, and love…... And here I am!
Whew! Let’s hope I’m committed to health tomorrow afternoon, too, because, well, double lives are EXHAUSTING.
But what about that Ariana? It’s no coincidence to me that the lead character in one of my plays, based on me, “My Life as a Phone Psychic,” is named Arianna. (Yup, that’s the novel coming out soon.) “Arianna Moore,” from my play, is a pretty obvious nom for Erin Muir. What about our dear friend to the world, Ariana Tatum, only 20 years, loved by all who knew her? All, that is, but for herself? Why couldn’t she have made it, too?
I am so grateful I made it. And I want desperately for her family to know that I almost didn’t. And not just once or twice but many, many times. MANY nights I almost didn’t make it, and you know what? If I hadn’t made it? It would never have been the fault of my mother and father, or my aunts and extended family, or my friends and teachers who loved me. It was no one person’s fault with Ariana (even hers, because she was doing the VERY best she could.) I made it through to the other side,for now and in this moment, because of course, life happens…. But for her family, and for families struggling with the same stories, I want you to know, YOU CAN MAKE IT. And for Ariana’s family, I want you to know, IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT.
But what can we do now?
What we MUST do. We have to try and help the Erins and the Arianas.
WE HAVE TO START TELLING THE TRUTH.
Why did it take me so long to get help, and to believe and trust that help?
Partially, because we do not yet live in a culture that encourages telling “the” “our” “my” “truth.” I grew up in a culture where we- girls, boys, just people in general- were/ are supposed to be successful, and do what we’re supposed to do, and look a certain way, and behave a certain way, and if we have problems, we’re not (STILL!) supposed to have them. Problems are embarrassing. Problems are shoved under the rug. OR then you get to be like me, or like “Girl, Interrupted,” and then you’re the crazy girl.
Guess what? I’m not crazy. Oh, sure, I’m a bit different. I mean, I’m from small town Minnesota, a town full of lovely folks for whom, I’m sure, I’m a bit, “different.” I know I am, because growing up, I was told so. I don’t mind and I don’t blame. And guess what? Everywhere I have gone and everywhere I go, I’m… “different.” Here in Los Angeles, in Dusseldorf, Germany, in Naples, Florida…. even in New York City…. even in San Francisco…. among the weirdoes, the bohemians, the artists, the punks… I’m still different. Because we ALL are. And that’s our BEAUTY. And we’re all the freaking same. And that’s our beauty. You and me! Me and Ariana! Me and Liz Gilbert.
And as for all of that? I’m actually, in my very grateful and humble opinion, very very healthy. I love and respect myself, and when I find out I haven’t been (loving or respecting myself, whether with chocolate or working too much or etc), because I still have my cycles and circles of non-belief, of dis-ease, then I ASAP go back to love and peace and balance. And ask for help.
Intellectually we understand this. But to LIVE and BREATHE this and be okay with it?
That’s next.
To help all the Erins out there, and all the Opehlias, and all the girls I was in rehab with in between college and massage school in my early 20s:
WE HAVE TO START EMBRACING ALL OF LIFE.
Really.
AND THAT MEANS US AND ME AND YOU AND MYSELF AND YOURSELF AND THEM AND THOSE PEOPLE OVER THERE AND ALL OF IT because…. we’re life, too. They’re life, too.
Oh, I go on, and I go on.
And the sad violin plays and suddenly it’s a fiddle and then it’s joyful and then we’re dancing until were laughing and crying all at the same time and life. is.
And that’s it. Life. Is. Life is life is life is. If you’re reading this, you’re one of the eggs that made it. You’ve succeeded. You are.
You are you are you are!
So….
In honor of Ariana Tatum….
Part three of my little “I want to live” manifesto it:
LOSE YOUR FEAR
Not easy to do, but then again, it is, if you keep breathing.
I can only imagine how much harder it must have been for young Ariana than it was for me. To me, our culture seems to have gotten more fear-based while getting even more success-presentation oriented. Womanhood is, in shadows and silks and corners and hints, FINALLY re-beginning to become exalted, but there is so much un-healthy, un-likely- un-truthful presentation of life going on in this universe right now. Expectations will kill ya. Goals are a joke, The world is not safe. Never has been.
As for what is real… or at least here? You know what is? You are. If you are reading this? You’re here and you’re heart is beating and so joy is possible. I vote for THAT candidate.
I don’t know. I really don’t. But I love. I love deeply. And I have learned, and am learning… to feel my feelings, to let them pass through me… not to be swallowed up by fear or lies or masks or problems… to be human and to be proud of it… to embrace my womanhood…. to love men and women for who they are… to be available to healing…. and on. And on. I go on.
And as for Eliot’s mermaids…. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each….and when I pulled back and saw the reflection in the water, one of those mermaids was me… I was calling to my lost heart…. and now, I get the gift of me.
Today, will you please find an Ariana, or an Erin- if it’s you- if it’s your sister- if it’s your homeless friend- and just offer him or her the biggest gift you can- your heart- as a reflection of their heart? All you need to do is send a text message or a little voicemail saying hi. No proselytizing, no preaching… just hi.
That’s what saved me. Hell, honestly, that’s what saves me. I could wax melancholic on life and write sad songs and I will again and I will have hard times and I will survive and I will thrive. I don’t know what love means, but I know what love means. What you can’t get from this blog is that the first time I wrote that, I was also pointing to my head, and the second time, I was pointing to my heart. Soul is. Love is. God/ nature/ divine mother/ my heart/ whatever you wanna call it is fine with me/ deep love from the cosmos… God keeps saying “hi” to me, in any way I can hear it. Sometimes, when I was lost in the idea of drowning in my grief, it was a phone call from my mother, and sometimes it was a note from an old friend… and sometimes, when minding my own business, the “hi” is a magical coincidence like Del Shannon’s song coming on just as I began writing this, and in general, in life, sometimes it’s cancer and sometimes it’s losing a job and sometimes it’s winning the lottery.
God keeps whispering to us. Listen.
In Honor of Scarlett
It’s been a while since I’ve blogged- I just finished a big ghost writing/ editing project for someone else and it took everything in me, in terms of writing time.
And in the meantime, so much has been happening! I’ve got a video coming out September 16th, I’ve got a novel coming out soon and a slew of great cabaret performances coming up… and meanwhile, life is beautiful here on my little street in my City of Angels! The sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, my upstairs neighbor is still doing construction on his kitchen, (three years later, god bless my sweet lug of a Liverpoolian neighbor) and I am IN JOY.
For me, so much of blogging feels very much like I’m writing a letter to a dear, dear friend… and so I want to update you, dear friend, (I suppose, much like Anne Frank’s “Kitty”) but I also have something I want to ruminate about and through in this space.
Today is my niece’s 4th birthday. She is the apple of my eye, and my favorite little bean. And not just because she looks like the blonde baby version of me (ahaha!) (right down to her energy and drama.) (Which has mellowed out in me now that I’m a grown-up…) And I want very much for her to have joy, and peace, and presence, and the ability to be in life on life’s terms… and I want that because I DESPERATELY want her to AVOID the trials and tribulations I put myself and my family through as a teenager and during my early 20s. And… from which I pray every day to stay delivered from…. and with which I offer myself up to help others if they want it….
I know that life happens as it happens, whether we want it to or not, but at least, I am grateful that each generation gets, in some ways, smarter than the last. But we who have read books and history and watched the skies and heard the breeze through the trees… we know that, la plus ça change, la plus c’est la meme chose! Each generation is, in fact, smarter than the last, and each wave of technology brings new trials and new stupidities, and in the end, we are all equaled by nature.
So… what I ant to write about today is possibility in the face of such strange dangers.
I like to be honest about my life experience, my dealings with eating disorders, addiction, depression, and more importantly, my recovery and my growth, because I’m proud of my commitment to health, and because there is nothing to be ashamed about when it comes to the communion of human experience. We all have our issues. And I figure, if I can help even one person have faith in the possibility of health, and the release of suffering, then my life is not in VAIN!
God forbid my life should be in vain, but then again, I’ve already given my-SELF the gift of faith. Because I am LIVING PROOF that LIFE is possible, whether that means self-love, self-esteem, overcoming illness and disease, any of it. All of it. I want to help anyone who asks, as best I can…. whether you’re my homeless friend who hangs out at the Fairfax Library, my songwriting student I’m mentoring, or just some stranger off in some strange corner of the universe, reading this on your laptop…. So. I write this for you, and I write this for me, and I write this for Scarlett, and I write this for all the girls that were in my rehab for eating disorders, depression and suicide- wherever all of you are! I love you, and I hope whether you’re in heaven or on earth, in the earth or on top of the world… I hope you found peace. I hope you find peace. And I know: You Are Peace.
COMMERCIAL BREAK: “As I walk along, I wonder, a-what went wrong with our love, a love that was so strong…” Del Shannon flipped on, randomly, on my iPod, just now. This song was one of my Dad’s favorites growing up. He loved all his “oldies.” And I used to sing this song and a feeling would grow in me that was so deep and sorrowful… ah, drama. Leave it to the Piscean child to hook into the misery of the world and then offer that at the potluck (haha!) (I laugh because I know now, it isn’t real. Someone go back and tell 8 year old me that!)
So what spurned this blog, in addition to my little niecey’s birthday?
This article my mother sent me:
http://www.twincities.com/ci_15759298?source=email&nclick_check=1
She was beautiful, outgoing and too young to die.
That's what friends of Arianna Tatum, 20, said as they gathered on the White Bear Avenue bridge over Interstate 94 in St. Paul on Thursday.
Tatum, of St. Paul, reportedly kicked off her sandals, crawled over a fence on the overpass and leapt onto the eastbound side of the interstate Wednesday afternoon, said Lt. Eric Roeske, Minnesota State Patrol spokesman.
Three or four passing vehicles struck Tatum about 2:25 p.m. Wednesday, the State Patrol said. She died at the scene.
"It's very tragic, very devastating, very unexpected," said Jackie Steele, Tatum's aunt. "Arianna was very well-loved by her family, and whenever she would go through different things, she would call someone and
Family and friends of Arianna Tatum have left balloons, flowers, stuffed animals and notes on the White Bear Avenue overpass where she jumped to her death. (Mara Gottfried | Pioneer Press)
talk. So for her to get to the point when she didn't talk to any of us, I don't know."
Family and friends left stuffed animals, flowers, balloons and notes on the overpass.
"She would do anything for her friends," said Janeen Roy, who met Tatum in ninth grade at Como Park Senior High School. "She was generous, had a big heart and could sing like an angel."
Tatum's mother, who could not be reached for comment, wrote on her Facebook page that she had lost her first-born daughter, "my best friend, my world. If you are hurting TELL SOMEONE & LET THEM HELP."
My mother loves to send me these kinds of emails, and I always respond with emails that say: Prayers sent, and I’m great.
Why? Because I was this girl.
Let’s pray for this girl, and teach everyone we know, all our Ophelias, all our Erins, to take responsibility for telling the truth and giving commitment to joy.
Double lives, man, they’ll kill you. Literally. Okay, so I’m not saying this girl led a double life. I couldn’t presume to know her version of the Ophelia story (I’m referring to that book, “Reviving Ophelia,” that came out around the 90s, in the ebb and tide of other issues I lived through during the 90s, the generation of Grunge, of Kurt and Courtney, of waifs and Sassy, of Lilith Fair… and THAT is a reference to, of course, Hamlet’s Ophelia, who kills herself over the loss of love and support from not only her love, Hamlet, but from her father and her brother….) (and on and on. Lack of belief in herself, no place in the world, no ability to tell the truth of life.)
But I know my version. And I was her then… and so I have a feeling about things, such as I do… that she felt so ashamed of her secrets (and they may have been as grand or as miniscule as any others, but to her, they were obviously overwhelming.) I never met this girl specifically, but I have met her again and again and I pray for the day when THIS tragic ending… ends….
Like I said, I was her. When I was her age… rather, a bit younger…. 20 was, well, like her, at 20 I was in the middle of my fuck-its, but I was still SORT of trying to hold it together, kind of. Old habits die hard. But in high school? I was, on the outside, kind of. … perfect. I mean, I hate to use that word because I’m not trying to say I was. I was soooooo far from. And we all know perfect is an unattainable concept. It’ll keep you distracted and chasing as long as you believe it exists. But I was all those good girl things: first in my class, musically gifted, published in journals for my poetry and short stories at the age of 16, awarded scholarships to every college I applied to… I was lean and healthy (so I PRETENDED) and BLAH BLAH BLAH ON AND ON AND ON. Just call me the Little Miss Goody Two Shoes CLICHÉ, ‘cause I was!
But I was also leading this double life full of dating older men, having eating disorders, and later, other addictions, you know. The whole deal.
And I kept it all to myself. I think I started telling people…. my sister… a trusted girlfriend who kept my secrets for me…. until there were so many secrets I stopped knowing what, if anything, I could talk about, and so I stopped talking….
And then I did the next cliché. I got the fuck-its. Real bad. All this keeping it together. All this pressure. All this “gotta get somewhere” “can’t screw up” “can’t lose my man” “can’t talk about my man” “now there’s two men” “can’t gain weight” “can’t eat” “can’t not eat” “must write great American novel by age 21” “college is really in the way of my fucking novel writing” “can’t eat this package of Fig Newtons and go sing opera here at semi-prestigious but not too prestigious so as to not piss off my peers and family music school” “can’t not eat this package of Fig Newtwons” “oh shit I just went from anorexic to bulimic in a heartbeat” “well there goes my singing career” “can’t be perfect? I’m worthless, might as well die” thoughts just got the better of me.
Thank god for drama, really. Because I have friends and clients who let those thought patterns go on for years and years and years. But I was lucky. I got out and went to massage school and forged my own path. I took the road less taken and got real public about my life so that I could get real healthy. Whew!
Hahahahaha! It only took me ten (or fifteen!) (depending on how far back we want to look) more years, eight therapists, a bad-ass boyfriend who taught me how to have TOO much fun, moving around 27 times back and forth across the globe, a few more dramas in the love department, several trips to India, (just call me Liz Gilbert) (THANK GOD FOR HER!!!!), some health wake up calls, a few embarrassing nights in a bar with a guy I really liked, a teacher who wouldn’t put up with my bullshit, and a deep love for my sister, my niece, and my other niece, a series of profound spiritual/ mystical/ love/ god awakenings… a commitment to meditation, health, sobriety, and love…... And here I am!
Whew! Let’s hope I’m committed to health tomorrow afternoon, too, because, well, double lives are EXHAUSTING.
But what about that Ariana? It’s no coincidence to me that the lead character in one of my plays, based on me, “My Life as a Phone Psychic,” is named Arianna. (Yup, that’s the novel coming out soon.) “Arianna Moore,” from my play, is a pretty obvious nom for Erin Muir. What about our dear friend to the world, Ariana Tatum, only 20 years, loved by all who knew her? All, that is, but for herself? Why couldn’t she have made it, too?
I am so grateful I made it. And I want desperately for her family to know that I almost didn’t. And not just once or twice but many, many times. MANY nights I almost didn’t make it, and you know what? If I hadn’t made it? It would never have been the fault of my mother and father, or my aunts and extended family, or my friends and teachers who loved me. It was no one person’s fault with Ariana (even hers, because she was doing the VERY best she could.) I made it through to the other side,for now and in this moment, because of course, life happens…. But for her family, and for families struggling with the same stories, I want you to know, YOU CAN MAKE IT. And for Ariana’s family, I want you to know, IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT.
But what can we do now?
What we MUST do. We have to try and help the Erins and the Arianas.
WE HAVE TO START TELLING THE TRUTH.
Why did it take me so long to get help, and to believe and trust that help?
Partially, because we do not yet live in a culture that encourages telling “the” “our” “my” “truth.” I grew up in a culture where we- girls, boys, just people in general- were/ are supposed to be successful, and do what we’re supposed to do, and look a certain way, and behave a certain way, and if we have problems, we’re not (STILL!) supposed to have them. Problems are embarrassing. Problems are shoved under the rug. OR then you get to be like me, or like “Girl, Interrupted,” and then you’re the crazy girl.
Guess what? I’m not crazy. Oh, sure, I’m a bit different. I mean, I’m from small town Minnesota, a town full of lovely folks for whom, I’m sure, I’m a bit, “different.” I know I am, because growing up, I was told so. I don’t mind and I don’t blame. And guess what? Everywhere I have gone and everywhere I go, I’m… “different.” Here in Los Angeles, in Dusseldorf, Germany, in Naples, Florida…. even in New York City…. even in San Francisco…. among the weirdoes, the bohemians, the artists, the punks… I’m still different. Because we ALL are. And that’s our BEAUTY. And we’re all the freaking same. And that’s our beauty. You and me! Me and Ariana! Me and Liz Gilbert.
And as for all of that? I’m actually, in my very grateful and humble opinion, very very healthy. I love and respect myself, and when I find out I haven’t been (loving or respecting myself, whether with chocolate or working too much or etc), because I still have my cycles and circles of non-belief, of dis-ease, then I ASAP go back to love and peace and balance. And ask for help.
Intellectually we understand this. But to LIVE and BREATHE this and be okay with it?
That’s next.
To help all the Erins out there, and all the Opehlias, and all the girls I was in rehab with in between college and massage school in my early 20s:
WE HAVE TO START EMBRACING ALL OF LIFE.
Really.
AND THAT MEANS US AND ME AND YOU AND MYSELF AND YOURSELF AND THEM AND THOSE PEOPLE OVER THERE AND ALL OF IT because…. we’re life, too. They’re life, too.
Oh, I go on, and I go on.
And the sad violin plays and suddenly it’s a fiddle and then it’s joyful and then we’re dancing until were laughing and crying all at the same time and life. is.
And that’s it. Life. Is. Life is life is life is. If you’re reading this, you’re one of the eggs that made it. You’ve succeeded. You are.
You are you are you are!
So….
In honor of Ariana Tatum….
Part three of my little “I want to live” manifesto it:
LOSE YOUR FEAR
Not easy to do, but then again, it is, if you keep breathing.
I can only imagine how much harder it must have been for young Ariana than it was for me. To me, our culture seems to have gotten more fear-based while getting even more success-presentation oriented. Womanhood is, in shadows and silks and corners and hints, FINALLY re-beginning to become exalted, but there is so much un-healthy, un-likely- un-truthful presentation of life going on in this universe right now. Expectations will kill ya. Goals are a joke, The world is not safe. Never has been.
As for what is real… or at least here? You know what is? You are. If you are reading this? You’re here and you’re heart is beating and so joy is possible. I vote for THAT candidate.
I don’t know. I really don’t. But I love. I love deeply. And I have learned, and am learning… to feel my feelings, to let them pass through me… not to be swallowed up by fear or lies or masks or problems… to be human and to be proud of it… to embrace my womanhood…. to love men and women for who they are… to be available to healing…. and on. And on. I go on.
And as for Eliot’s mermaids…. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each….and when I pulled back and saw the reflection in the water, one of those mermaids was me… I was calling to my lost heart…. and now, I get the gift of me.
Today, will you please find an Ariana, or an Erin- if it’s you- if it’s your sister- if it’s your homeless friend- and just offer him or her the biggest gift you can- your heart- as a reflection of their heart? All you need to do is send a text message or a little voicemail saying hi. No proselytizing, no preaching… just hi.
That’s what saved me. Hell, honestly, that’s what saves me. I could wax melancholic on life and write sad songs and I will again and I will have hard times and I will survive and I will thrive. I don’t know what love means, but I know what love means. What you can’t get from this blog is that the first time I wrote that, I was also pointing to my head, and the second time, I was pointing to my heart. Soul is. Love is. God/ nature/ divine mother/ my heart/ whatever you wanna call it is fine with me/ deep love from the cosmos… God keeps saying “hi” to me, in any way I can hear it. Sometimes, when I was lost in the idea of drowning in my grief, it was a phone call from my mother, and sometimes it was a note from an old friend… and sometimes, when minding my own business, the “hi” is a magical coincidence like Del Shannon’s song coming on just as I began writing this, and in general, in life, sometimes it’s cancer and sometimes it’s losing a job and sometimes it’s winning the lottery.
God keeps whispering to us. Listen.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Here In Life's Bloom
Here In Life's Bloom
Waves roll in, we learn the language of the sea.
Night sky falls, we learn the language of the stars.
Let me gaze upon you and learn to sing in the language of your dreams.
In your eyes there is a light-
quick!
Find in me your sanctuary as I find in you my heart.
by Erin Elizabeth Muir
Waves roll in, we learn the language of the sea.
Night sky falls, we learn the language of the stars.
Let me gaze upon you and learn to sing in the language of your dreams.
In your eyes there is a light-
quick!
Find in me your sanctuary as I find in you my heart.
by Erin Elizabeth Muir
Monday, July 12, 2010
July, 2010....
http://mim.io/081b4
July, 2010....
HELLO, everyone!
Well, it's high summer by the calendar, one of my favorite times of year! Although it's been a wee bit gloomy here in the City of Angels, I have had so much fun these last few weeks that I have barely had time to notice the foggy marine layer!
First of all, thanks so much to all of you who helped contribute to our video shoot! Your premiums are coming soon.... and I am so grateful to you all! We had an amazing time... and we couldn't have done it without you!
We shot a video for the song "Too Much" on location at El Mirage Dry Lake Bed. I'll be posting updates about the video, which is being edited *right now.* We'll also be announcing an official Video Release soon!
I'd like to thank my amazing cast and crew:
Jacob Sodergren, director
Petra Lansky, cinematographer
Ashley Phillips, producer
Joelle Martinec, choreographer
Eva Woodby, hair and makeup
and Marko Germar, dancer
Oh, just wait 'til you see!
In the meantime, I made a sweet short film about *my* new love:
SUPER LOVE
You can still download the free song from my performance at Genghis Cohen last month... for a few more weeks! until I put up a new song! So check out:
Sometimes I'm a Giant, and Sometimes I'm Invisible
You can also buy tee shirts, tote bags, coffee mugs (very important to me, personally, haha!) and baseball caps featuring artwork from the cover of "Poet's Lovely Daughter."
ERIN MUIR STORE
If you're in southern California, I'll be performing in Hollywood and in Laguna Beach soon.
July 29th, 2010: 8:30 pm: all ages show at the Voodoo Lounge at the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip, West Hollywood: $10 or $7 with a can of food for the LA Food Shelf.... with Russ Foreman on guitar!
August 2nd, 2010: 10:00 pm: performing at the Sandpiper in Laguna Beach! Chris Justice goes on at 9:30 pm, I go on at 10:00 pm, and the Nautics (from Oregon) go on at 11:00 pm! 1183 South Coast Highway, Laguna Beach.
Thanks again, everyone, for being in my life. I appreciate that- I get to let the beauty of what I love be what I do... thanks to you!
(with regards to Rumi on that quote!)
Please drop a note to say hi. I always love to share with all of you wonderful creative dynamic people in my life!
Erin
www.erinmuir.com
July, 2010....
HELLO, everyone!
Well, it's high summer by the calendar, one of my favorite times of year! Although it's been a wee bit gloomy here in the City of Angels, I have had so much fun these last few weeks that I have barely had time to notice the foggy marine layer!
First of all, thanks so much to all of you who helped contribute to our video shoot! Your premiums are coming soon.... and I am so grateful to you all! We had an amazing time... and we couldn't have done it without you!
We shot a video for the song "Too Much" on location at El Mirage Dry Lake Bed. I'll be posting updates about the video, which is being edited *right now.* We'll also be announcing an official Video Release soon!
I'd like to thank my amazing cast and crew:
Jacob Sodergren, director
Petra Lansky, cinematographer
Ashley Phillips, producer
Joelle Martinec, choreographer
Eva Woodby, hair and makeup
and Marko Germar, dancer
Oh, just wait 'til you see!
In the meantime, I made a sweet short film about *my* new love:
SUPER LOVE
You can still download the free song from my performance at Genghis Cohen last month... for a few more weeks! until I put up a new song! So check out:
Sometimes I'm a Giant, and Sometimes I'm Invisible
You can also buy tee shirts, tote bags, coffee mugs (very important to me, personally, haha!) and baseball caps featuring artwork from the cover of "Poet's Lovely Daughter."
ERIN MUIR STORE
If you're in southern California, I'll be performing in Hollywood and in Laguna Beach soon.
July 29th, 2010: 8:30 pm: all ages show at the Voodoo Lounge at the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip, West Hollywood: $10 or $7 with a can of food for the LA Food Shelf.... with Russ Foreman on guitar!
August 2nd, 2010: 10:00 pm: performing at the Sandpiper in Laguna Beach! Chris Justice goes on at 9:30 pm, I go on at 10:00 pm, and the Nautics (from Oregon) go on at 11:00 pm! 1183 South Coast Highway, Laguna Beach.
Thanks again, everyone, for being in my life. I appreciate that- I get to let the beauty of what I love be what I do... thanks to you!
(with regards to Rumi on that quote!)
Please drop a note to say hi. I always love to share with all of you wonderful creative dynamic people in my life!
Erin
www.erinmuir.com
Monday, June 7, 2010
June 2010 Music News
Hello, everyone!
This is Erin Muir! This is your OFFICIAL June, 2010 Newsletter!
This has been a very exciting year for me so far! Performing at Red Gorilla during the SXSW Festival, winning Rockwired's "Best Female Artist of the Year" award, getting to know some really great people while on the road, singing my heart out.... I feel so grateful to live this beautiful life and I feel so honored that each of you are a part of it!
Now.
I have some exciting news!
Since the release of "Poet's Lovely Daughter" last fall, many people have asked me to make a music video. Well, this June, it's happening. I am so thrilled to announce that I have an amazing production team and cast assembled to shoot a fun, sexy, passionate video about taking chances on love for the song "TOO MUCH."
Check out the "Teaser" video:
Too Much Video! The Teaser!
This is where you come in.
We are raising money to make this video the absolute best it can be, and we need your help.
We're offering fun gifts, auctions, and some very special opportunities. Every little bit helps, so check out
The Donation Page for all the info on how to follow, donate, and be a part of this project. We are offering some really fun big prizes, but seriously, every donation, be it ten dollars or a thousand dollars, helps!
We'll soon have more pics, blogs, and video content about the "Making Of" the video so be sure to check back often for updates!
Thanks so much for your support!
Meanwhile, I performed in Los Angeles last weekend with two amazing musicians: Jeremy Weinglass and Russel Foreman. You'll be able to hear and see that performance very soon! In the meantime, to thank you for being a listener, please feel free to download a brand new composition, entitled "Sometimes I'm a Giant, and Sometimes I'm Invisible." It's free!
http://www.4shared.com/audio/IcBRrUZF/04_Sometimes_Im_a_Giant_Someti.html
Finally, if you're in LA this Saturday June 12th, come on down to the Aqua Lounge around 11:30 pm. I'll be performing my interpretation of Darling Nikki by one of my musical icons, Prince! Aqua Lounge is at 424 N Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills, CA, 90210.
Yours truly,
Erin Elizabeth Muir
This is Erin Muir! This is your OFFICIAL June, 2010 Newsletter!
This has been a very exciting year for me so far! Performing at Red Gorilla during the SXSW Festival, winning Rockwired's "Best Female Artist of the Year" award, getting to know some really great people while on the road, singing my heart out.... I feel so grateful to live this beautiful life and I feel so honored that each of you are a part of it!
Now.
I have some exciting news!
Since the release of "Poet's Lovely Daughter" last fall, many people have asked me to make a music video. Well, this June, it's happening. I am so thrilled to announce that I have an amazing production team and cast assembled to shoot a fun, sexy, passionate video about taking chances on love for the song "TOO MUCH."
Check out the "Teaser" video:
Too Much Video! The Teaser!
This is where you come in.
We are raising money to make this video the absolute best it can be, and we need your help.
We're offering fun gifts, auctions, and some very special opportunities. Every little bit helps, so check out
The Donation Page for all the info on how to follow, donate, and be a part of this project. We are offering some really fun big prizes, but seriously, every donation, be it ten dollars or a thousand dollars, helps!
We'll soon have more pics, blogs, and video content about the "Making Of" the video so be sure to check back often for updates!
Thanks so much for your support!
Meanwhile, I performed in Los Angeles last weekend with two amazing musicians: Jeremy Weinglass and Russel Foreman. You'll be able to hear and see that performance very soon! In the meantime, to thank you for being a listener, please feel free to download a brand new composition, entitled "Sometimes I'm a Giant, and Sometimes I'm Invisible." It's free!
http://www.4shared.com/audio/IcBRrUZF/04_Sometimes_Im_a_Giant_Someti.html
Finally, if you're in LA this Saturday June 12th, come on down to the Aqua Lounge around 11:30 pm. I'll be performing my interpretation of Darling Nikki by one of my musical icons, Prince! Aqua Lounge is at 424 N Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills, CA, 90210.
Yours truly,
Erin Elizabeth Muir
Friday, May 28, 2010
Love in the time of Cynicism
Love in the time of Cynicism
May 28th, 2010
So, I’m shooting a music video next month for one of the tracks off “Poet’s Lovely Daughter,” called TOO MUCH. It’s the dance-y track, and one of my favorites. (Which is silly, because they’re all like my children. Some are A students and some are baseball players and some are drug addicts and some are preachers and some are sadus and some are bank tellers and some are superstars and they are all each and everyone something unique to me and unto itself!)
I have this wonderful group of people who have come together to make this video happen- all donating their brilliance, expertise, time, talent… a producer, a DP, a director, a co-star/ choreographer…. more keep coming as we near the shoot date, (just one month away!) and we have been creating the narrative and the production plan and the look and the feel and the dance for a project that is taking on a life of its own. It’s no longer “Erin’s music video.” It is now Erin, Emeka, Ashley, Jacob and Petra’s music video. It’s a group of people all coming together to throw themselves into the mix to create a child that has its own life- something greater than the individual. And that’s AMAZING. And a gift.
It is most definitely a low budget affair. I’m fund raising to shoot the video beginning this weekend, and the entire production staff is helping me do this. This is something very rare and unique in this instance, because no one thinks they will make money back from this project. Each person involved in this project could very well be putting his or her time and attention elsewhere for cash or prestige, but they are not. They are donating of their time, sweat, blood, tears, heart, love, soul…. and I believe…. it’s because we ALL have come together for a reason beyond our own devising!
I won’t gush any more about my amazing crew but I would like to share a brief, beautiful story about this project in process.
We’ve been having weekly production meetings. Sometimes these meetings are about budget, sometimes they are location scouting, sometimes everything under the sun and then some. Lately we’ve held these at my house, because my home is pretty much smack dab in the middle of where everyone lives and works!
For one of these meetings, I decided to walk two blocks to the Starbucks near me and pick up some coffee for everyone. I had run out of coffee myself and thought it would be fun to go get one of those big containers of coffee for the group.
So before our meeting, I walked over to Starbucks, and checked in with Phoenix, the barista, and placed my order. Then I walked to one of the side counters (it’s a big Starbucks), the side where people are NOT waiting for their drinks but where, if people place big coffee orders or food orders, that is where they wait.
There was another gentleman standing near me. I could tell he was pretending to look at the pastries in an effort to look at me. I don’t mean to say it was a pick up or that I’m so fascinating or anything like that, but you know, sometimes we do that. We go look at the magazines in the drug store to have an excuse to furtively check out that weird looking lady or that hot guy or that celebrity or whomever. So here was a guy- late 40s, maybe, and he was just FASCINATED by the croissants and banana breads but sneaking glances at me.
As Phoenix filled up my coffee to go container, he said, “So, what have you got going on today?”
“Oh,” I began, “We’re shooting a music video in a month and we’re having a production meeting and I’m just getting coffee for everyone.”
“Oh,” said Phoenix, “Are you the PA? [for those not in the business, PA is a production assistant.]”
“Nope,” I laughed, “I’m the artist.”
“Wow,” piped up the pastry-watching gentleman, “That’s a low budget shoot when the art department is the PA!”
“It’s even lower than that,” I said, “I’m not the art department. I’m the artist. I’m the singer. It’s a video for me!”
Phoenix blushed. I smiled.
“Oh,” said the gentleman, surprised. “That’s nice of you to get coffee.”
“Oh, it’s my honor,” I said, “I have the best crew in the world. I’m an independent artist, and I’m paying for all this… Do you know I have one of the most talented up and coming DPs I’ve ever met? And I have such an amazing director and an amazing producer, and they are all helping me fundraise to shoot this video, and are deferring their OWN salaries until we raise the funds?”
Pastry watcher snorted.
“They probably need the demo reels,” he said.
I looked at him very closely. He had grey hair, and not many wrinkles, and he was attractive. He was wearing shorts and looked like a neighborhood fellow. I wasn’t sure if I had seen him or met him before, but I saw how angry he was in that one small observation. I felt such pity for him. To live with such anger…
“You’re so cynical,” I said, softly, pitying him.
He blinked. His demeanor changed and he grew defensive, just a wee bit, like a boy that just got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar and is explaining why he really had to do it.
“Well, it’s just that, I’ve been in the business a long time, and I know that it’s all about money. I’ve worked on…” and he started explaining to me “how the business really works.”
“Maybe they do need demo reels,” I said, “But maybe they’re involved because this is a project that is about something greater than the needs of each of us individually. Maybe they’re doing this because they’re passionate, and they want to extend that passion through their love of music and videos and filmmaking. Maybe they want to be a part of something beautiful. Not crass.”
I waited.
Now he was looking at me with a mixture of pity (poor, stupid girl) and awe (who is this girl and what the f*** is she talking about? Could it be?)
“Where are you from?” Phoenix asked.
“Oh, you guys are gonna laugh. I’m from Minnesota.”
They smiled. On the coast, people seem to think that Midwesterners are all naïve and un-informed. I think it’s a bit too easy to get lulled into this idea that the intellect of the west or east coast is superior to, well, anywhere else but the “city in which IIIIIiii live.”
“And I’ve lived here four years and I certainly know what you’re talking about,” I said to the pastry-watcher. “I’ve certainly had many run-ins with sharks.”
“Sharks?” He was confused.
“Everyone in the music industry, according to your opinion of it,” I explained.
He smiled.
“Ah, sharks.”
Then he paused.
“Do you know Holly Cole?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, thoughtfully, “I do.” I don’t know much about her but one of my best friends is a HUGE Holly Cole fan.
And then, Mr. Pastry Cynical started going on and on about Holly Cole, and how she was an indie, and how she got started and what her inspirations were…. and he stopped playing Mr. Cynical and suddenly, he was involved, invested, maybe even in love. He started remembering something that, to him, was beautiful. And he shared that with me.
It was time for me to go. He gave me a few album suggestions, for my inspiration, and I gave him a postcard for my upcoming show.
“Always ready for self-promotion,” I said.
“Well, it is LA,” he said. I let that one go. Who the hell am I to constantly preach an anti-cynical world-view?
I smiled.
“Come to my show, if you like,” I said.
“Good luck with the video,” he said. And he meant it.
http://www.erinmuir.com/web/?page_id=216
May 28th, 2010
So, I’m shooting a music video next month for one of the tracks off “Poet’s Lovely Daughter,” called TOO MUCH. It’s the dance-y track, and one of my favorites. (Which is silly, because they’re all like my children. Some are A students and some are baseball players and some are drug addicts and some are preachers and some are sadus and some are bank tellers and some are superstars and they are all each and everyone something unique to me and unto itself!)
I have this wonderful group of people who have come together to make this video happen- all donating their brilliance, expertise, time, talent… a producer, a DP, a director, a co-star/ choreographer…. more keep coming as we near the shoot date, (just one month away!) and we have been creating the narrative and the production plan and the look and the feel and the dance for a project that is taking on a life of its own. It’s no longer “Erin’s music video.” It is now Erin, Emeka, Ashley, Jacob and Petra’s music video. It’s a group of people all coming together to throw themselves into the mix to create a child that has its own life- something greater than the individual. And that’s AMAZING. And a gift.
It is most definitely a low budget affair. I’m fund raising to shoot the video beginning this weekend, and the entire production staff is helping me do this. This is something very rare and unique in this instance, because no one thinks they will make money back from this project. Each person involved in this project could very well be putting his or her time and attention elsewhere for cash or prestige, but they are not. They are donating of their time, sweat, blood, tears, heart, love, soul…. and I believe…. it’s because we ALL have come together for a reason beyond our own devising!
I won’t gush any more about my amazing crew but I would like to share a brief, beautiful story about this project in process.
We’ve been having weekly production meetings. Sometimes these meetings are about budget, sometimes they are location scouting, sometimes everything under the sun and then some. Lately we’ve held these at my house, because my home is pretty much smack dab in the middle of where everyone lives and works!
For one of these meetings, I decided to walk two blocks to the Starbucks near me and pick up some coffee for everyone. I had run out of coffee myself and thought it would be fun to go get one of those big containers of coffee for the group.
So before our meeting, I walked over to Starbucks, and checked in with Phoenix, the barista, and placed my order. Then I walked to one of the side counters (it’s a big Starbucks), the side where people are NOT waiting for their drinks but where, if people place big coffee orders or food orders, that is where they wait.
There was another gentleman standing near me. I could tell he was pretending to look at the pastries in an effort to look at me. I don’t mean to say it was a pick up or that I’m so fascinating or anything like that, but you know, sometimes we do that. We go look at the magazines in the drug store to have an excuse to furtively check out that weird looking lady or that hot guy or that celebrity or whomever. So here was a guy- late 40s, maybe, and he was just FASCINATED by the croissants and banana breads but sneaking glances at me.
As Phoenix filled up my coffee to go container, he said, “So, what have you got going on today?”
“Oh,” I began, “We’re shooting a music video in a month and we’re having a production meeting and I’m just getting coffee for everyone.”
“Oh,” said Phoenix, “Are you the PA? [for those not in the business, PA is a production assistant.]”
“Nope,” I laughed, “I’m the artist.”
“Wow,” piped up the pastry-watching gentleman, “That’s a low budget shoot when the art department is the PA!”
“It’s even lower than that,” I said, “I’m not the art department. I’m the artist. I’m the singer. It’s a video for me!”
Phoenix blushed. I smiled.
“Oh,” said the gentleman, surprised. “That’s nice of you to get coffee.”
“Oh, it’s my honor,” I said, “I have the best crew in the world. I’m an independent artist, and I’m paying for all this… Do you know I have one of the most talented up and coming DPs I’ve ever met? And I have such an amazing director and an amazing producer, and they are all helping me fundraise to shoot this video, and are deferring their OWN salaries until we raise the funds?”
Pastry watcher snorted.
“They probably need the demo reels,” he said.
I looked at him very closely. He had grey hair, and not many wrinkles, and he was attractive. He was wearing shorts and looked like a neighborhood fellow. I wasn’t sure if I had seen him or met him before, but I saw how angry he was in that one small observation. I felt such pity for him. To live with such anger…
“You’re so cynical,” I said, softly, pitying him.
He blinked. His demeanor changed and he grew defensive, just a wee bit, like a boy that just got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar and is explaining why he really had to do it.
“Well, it’s just that, I’ve been in the business a long time, and I know that it’s all about money. I’ve worked on…” and he started explaining to me “how the business really works.”
“Maybe they do need demo reels,” I said, “But maybe they’re involved because this is a project that is about something greater than the needs of each of us individually. Maybe they’re doing this because they’re passionate, and they want to extend that passion through their love of music and videos and filmmaking. Maybe they want to be a part of something beautiful. Not crass.”
I waited.
Now he was looking at me with a mixture of pity (poor, stupid girl) and awe (who is this girl and what the f*** is she talking about? Could it be?)
“Where are you from?” Phoenix asked.
“Oh, you guys are gonna laugh. I’m from Minnesota.”
They smiled. On the coast, people seem to think that Midwesterners are all naïve and un-informed. I think it’s a bit too easy to get lulled into this idea that the intellect of the west or east coast is superior to, well, anywhere else but the “city in which IIIIIiii live.”
“And I’ve lived here four years and I certainly know what you’re talking about,” I said to the pastry-watcher. “I’ve certainly had many run-ins with sharks.”
“Sharks?” He was confused.
“Everyone in the music industry, according to your opinion of it,” I explained.
He smiled.
“Ah, sharks.”
Then he paused.
“Do you know Holly Cole?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, thoughtfully, “I do.” I don’t know much about her but one of my best friends is a HUGE Holly Cole fan.
And then, Mr. Pastry Cynical started going on and on about Holly Cole, and how she was an indie, and how she got started and what her inspirations were…. and he stopped playing Mr. Cynical and suddenly, he was involved, invested, maybe even in love. He started remembering something that, to him, was beautiful. And he shared that with me.
It was time for me to go. He gave me a few album suggestions, for my inspiration, and I gave him a postcard for my upcoming show.
“Always ready for self-promotion,” I said.
“Well, it is LA,” he said. I let that one go. Who the hell am I to constantly preach an anti-cynical world-view?
I smiled.
“Come to my show, if you like,” I said.
“Good luck with the video,” he said. And he meant it.
http://www.erinmuir.com/web/?page_id=216
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Wing Young Huie
Wow! The biggest honor- one of my songs, "Heart Given," has been chosen
to take part in this AMAZING SIX MILE PUBLIC GALLERY AND MUSIC
INSTALLATION in Saint Paul, Minnesota, by Wing Young Huie! It begins May
1st... http://www.theuniversityavenueproject.com/
to take part in this AMAZING SIX MILE PUBLIC GALLERY AND MUSIC
INSTALLATION in Saint Paul, Minnesota, by Wing Young Huie! It begins May
1st... http://www.theuniversityavenueproject.com/
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Santa Fe and South By
SANTA FE AND SOUTH BY
THE DREAM that WAS REALITY:
I awoke in a sensual confusion of snow on the trees and the eaves, white linens wrapped all around me, the heater blasting in my room… I was confused at the snow on the trees. Where was I? Santa Fe… the blizzard on the way up… parched, I needed water. I pushed aside the soft white of the bed and stumbled into the other room of the suite. Water. Water. Here was a bottle of water, half consumed from the night before. What time was it? I consulted my laptop. It said what time it was, something like 8:00 am, but it made no sense to me. I felt it could have been noon or five am or five pm. I looked again and again at the day and time on the top right hand corner of the screening, desperate to figure out some sense of space and time, but nothing made sense.
I went back to bed and watched the snow sit heavy on the branches for a while. A while became a long while and I fell asleep.
I awoke… it felt like hours, maybe even days… I got up to look at the time. 8:30? Now it made less sense. Was it the next day? No… Monday 8:30 am. Monday? It was Monday?
I gave up and went back to bed. I stared at the ceiling, listened to the quiet. Then there were children in the hallway; then there were not.
Some time later I rose. I spoke to someone on the phone, I did yoga. I put on a sweater and went to some art galleries. I went to see the painting, “Love” by Lynden St. Victor. I had no sense of time or place. The snow was melting and it was growing warm. I walked for hours and hours in the old town part of Santa Fe, but kept ending up at my hotel. Finally, I got to a Whole Foods Market and realized I needed something to eat.
The day was confusing, and terribly beautiful.
I got back to my hotel room. I realized I hadn’t watched TV in months and turned it on to see what was happening… and who should be on Larry King but Sean Astin, and then Jesse Ventura, former governor of my home state and father to my good friend, and Michele Bachman, also of Minnesota. I laughed out loud. Doesn’t matter my state of confusion or poetry, I’m always everywhere I go.
A few days passed, and a million years passed.
And the dream ended and I woke up in Austin, TX, just in time for the Red Gorilla Music Festival and the SXSW film and music festival!
AUSTIN:
So, I had never been to Austin before. My friend Josh moved there a year or so ago and he is totally in love with the city. And I see why. Generally great weather, tons of great restaurants and places to go, lots of fun outdoors activities, and…. the people. I mean, really. It was remarkable. Austinites seem… um… happy. Or… um… the word is… friendly. Like… there were hipsters but they could look at something besides their own navels. They were not too cool for school, which is the quality that has always sort of… well, I hate to admit it, but… annoyed me about the hipster element in most cities I’ve lived in. I have never been too cool for school. In fact, I had to learn how to not raise my hand ALL THE TIME in this extended metaphor for city living. And all sorts of people seemed to have all sorts of room for each other. And… yeah. Great people. Amazing.
I stayed with Josh at his fancy resort style apartment village. It was really a lot of fun- Josh is one of my favorite people in the world. We never run out of things to laugh about, or talk about, or dream about. We laughed while working out at the gym. We laughed while eating veggie burgers at the diner. We laughed and laughed and laughed at his two French Bulldog puppies and their love of farting. I mean, I know I’m supposed to be erudite and all that, but there are some things that are just fartastically hilarious. Like Molly and Gigi. They literally woke me from a dead sleep with the incredible odiferous power of their gas.
My very dear friend from childhood, also named Erin, and so called Erin C, flew in on the same day that I went to go meet another buddy of mine, the never ceasing to amaze me Mark. Mark and his band Ruby Isle were playing Wednesday night and rumor had it they were going to be performing Appetite For Destruction in its entirety. Um, one of my favorite albums of all time? Check. One of my favorite performers? Check. Heck yes.
Quick review of Mark’s band. It’s hard not to love them, because, well, each member is so wonderful on his own, and together they rock. But I think they should not cover Appetite. I think they should cover something a little more non sequitor…. because, even though they are not G’N’R and all that, it’s still a little too close. Just my opinion, but I’d love to see Ruby Isle do their own take on something like…. Like…. Like a Prayer, my favorite Madonna Album…. THAT would be something. Or… oh my god. A weird choice could be “Fumbling Toward Ecstasy.” I would actually love to hear Mallman cover Sarah McLachlan. Hm.
Anyway, it was still a fun show, although they only played a few songs from AFD. And for me, that was actually better, because I really wanted to hear their original works as well.
The next day was all about Josh and Erin C and me. We just had a blast bumming around and being lazy. We were really quite the Motley Crew in Minneapolis, but we have not all been together in about five years. I love old friends, though. It’s like we just picked right up as if we had seen each other last Saturday… It was also fun for me because I have really mellowed out as a person. Ahem. I used to be, uh, let’s use the phrase, high strung. That’s the nice way of putting it. And Erin C? She has known me alllll my life. So either she has great compassion for humanity or a heck of a lot of self-hatred because I have not always been positive or pleasant to be around. I’m speaking in hyperbole, sort of. I mean, Erin C DOES have a lot of compassion for people, and she loves me and I love her. She has been an amazing friend to me my whole life long and I am so grateful. It also makes me feel a lot better about myself during times where I’ve really struggled in life, because it makes me think, well, if someone as wonderful as Erin C is still my friend… I’m not so bad!
Seriously, though, I have really mellowed out. I mean, in the past, if the three of us were together, I would have been not just having coffee with them, I also would have been texting, calling, emailing, facebooking, myspacing, hitting on the guy at the table next to us, brokering a deal for my next gig and giving an interview. I would not have been fully present for any of that and I would have felt miserable and stuffed my face with a cookie and then not have eaten dinner because I forsook it for the damned Snickerdoodle.
I know, not so unreasonable what I just said, right? I mean, we all have to multitask and all that, and life is busy and so are we.
But guess what?
This is elementary for many, I’m sure, but for me, it’s HUGE:
I did not multitask. I was completely present to Josh and Erin C and what was occurring at our coffee date. (I did flirt with the guy that ferried us in the golf cart from the parking lot across the street to the coffee shop on the Lake, but that was called for. He was cute.) Later, I gave an interview via the internet, and I updated a few facebook things, and had my meetings, and checked in as an artist to my festival, and met my sound man, and sussed out my venue, and did my business. But nothing was missing, anywhere, in any part of my life. And… I had fun… and… I relaxed… and… so did they. And I didn’t stuff a cookie in my face out of frustration and feeling the lack of joy because I had to WORK SO HARD ALL THE TIME. I just stuffed the cookie in my face because it was freakin’ delicious.
I’m blogging about this, very publicly, because I think my conscious choice last fall to change my lifestyle from “busy” to “lazy” was really important. My life is just as successful or not successful as it has ever been. And I’m certainly not lazy, really, as much as I’m just relaxed. It’s just that I refuse to get all caught up in a tizzy because of my ideas about the way the world does or doesn’t work. I want to enjoy my life while I’m alive, you know? And before, when I was such a workaholic and always multitasking a million things, I wasn’t happy, or relaxed, or even really getting the juice out of the lemon. And the only thing that has really changed is me, my perception. And yet. Everything has changed.
THERE WERE NEVER SUCH DEVOTED SISTERS
So, the next day, my sister flew in from the Midwest. Now, anyone who knows me knows I LOVE my sister. She is my favorite person in the world. Maybe she competes with a few people. But if there were a top ten of favorite people, I was currently about to be with three of them!
Also, anyone who really knows me, knows that my Bettie Page meets Jessica Rabbit demeanor belies a HUGE GOOFBALL NERD HEART. So I got this really brilliant idea that, when we went to pick Laura up from the airport, we should carry balloons and signs welcoming her to Texas.
None of us are from Texas. We are all from Minnesota.
Don’t Mess with Texas? Don’t… uh… Don’t not get a load a Minnesota?
Don’t… be a foe ta Minnesota?
Eeeek.
Don’t misquote-a Minnesota-(n?)
Oh it’s just getting worse. One more.
Don’t bring a ho to Minnesota!?
(‘cause she’ll be underdressed. Damn. It’s cold there!)
Ok. I officially apologize. At least for that last one.
So anyway.
I convinced/ coerced/ cajoled Erin and Josh in to helping me make these big beautiful signs with tagboard form Walgreen’s and ribbons and magic markers and glitter and glue. They read things like:
“LAURA IS THE YELLOW ROSE OF TEXAS!”
(I know.)
“TEXAS IS HOOTIN’ AND HOLLERIN’ OVER LAURA!”
(I know, I know.)
AND I got some really pretty Mylar balloons.
So imagine my sister’s surprise when she came down that escalator to baggage claim after a ten-hour travel day! She actually blushed and the lady in front of her was like, “That’s for you?” Because Erin and Josh and I were cheering and clapping and really truly hootin’ and hollerin’. It was maybe the MOST fun I have ever had at an airport.
And I got to be with three of my all time favorite people in all the world. Sometimes, life is just soooooo sweet.
SMOKEY ROBINSON
So, Smokey gave the opening speech and I saw the interview he gave. I remember when I was little, my mom and dad used to play Smokey records and my brother and I would act out little dramas to go with the songs. My Dad loves loves LOVES Motown, and R&B, and blues and jazz. I often get Smokey (and Percy Sledge, and Diana Ross) stuck in my head. Tracks of my Tears was about the saddest song in the universe to me, and along with Brandy, by Looking Glass, was this song that I just loved to cry over.
Anyway, what struck me most about what he had to say was that he was talking about gratitude. He was talking about how he has been in entertainment for fifty years and every day he hears no, no, no, and every day he keeps finding ways to be an optimist, and to never give up, and to be so thankful for every break he has ever had and continues to get. I really liked what he had to say… because, for my money, it doesn’t matter if a person “makes” it the way they think they are supposed to or not. What matters is giving your all, and being in love, and continuing to grow, and be in gratitude for each moment, shiny or dull. And I loved that he was saying, “be grateful.” And that here was an ICON who still faced rejection every day. I mean. Come on… You just don’t know what the deal is until you’re going through it and even then, you don’t really know. So be grateful and extend that hand of gratitude to the next.
Well, I like that philosophy. It certainly has worked a lot better for me than the method of backstabbing and ladder climbing that I have never been very good at… that method of going about the music business is VERY unattractive and soul killing. In. My. Opinion. I mean, I will admit that I have certainly played those games, sometimes unconsciously, sometimes because I thought I had to, and sometimes just to see what would happen. And you know what? No good could come from any of it, because I knew in my heart what I was doing. I’m not saying you don’t go swimming with the sharks. I’m just saying, I don’t wanna be one of the sharks myself.
And I like gratitude. Even for the seemingly awful things in life. Even the awful tragedies of life bring some healing, some beauty, some growth… if you stick around long enough to see it…. if you don’t shut down before it arrives….
SHARON JONES
Sharon Jones. Dap Kings. I mean. Come on. ‘Nuff said. We all know that girl is outrageous. Let her sing on forever ‘cause she’s truly truly truly outrageous. This feeling’s contagious!
THE STATE OF THE INDUSTRY
The state is disbanding.
Some folks are choosing nostalgia. Others are choosing fear. I am choosing a combination of adventure, lunacy, and Taoism.
No worries. I happen to have my black steed and my silver star right here… I’ll just aim for that big ‘ol full moon and never worry ‘bout the rest.
MY PERFORMANCE:
I was nervous, admittedly, about my performance. It was the first day during the Austin Days that I was not relaxed. I meditated a bit to get myself into a state of presence, but I saw very clearly that my persona as a singer at this particular moment in space and time at this particular set of music festivals was not laconic. I am a passionate, fiery woman… and a passionate, fiery singer! So I COULDN’T be little Miss Zen Princess Erin. I had to reach into that SPANISH LADY ERIN because? She was coming out to sing! Watch out, wild hearts!
THE OUTFIT:
I wore my sister’s Grecian v-neck grayish silver tunic dress, which gathered just below my décolletage. I wore my thigh high pirate boots, but folded them over to the knees, and then I wore a bright red toreador jacket over the whole ensemble. It sounds strange but it worked, somehow. I wore a red feather flower in my hair. I wore my Hand of God bracelet, which is a red string with a clasp on either end connecting to a blue Hand of God. I wore diamond droplet earrings.
THE SET LIST:
Never, Never, Never (Shirley Bassey/ Mina)
Sober (a new song)
Too Much (on piano)
the rest of the tracks I performed also with the sampled tracks from the record:
Black Butterfly
Faith
Heart Given
Poet’s Lovely Daughter
K-15
Shadow and Silt
Super Natural
City Behind the Sky
THE SOUND GUY:
Sean was super cool and a Pisces. I asked him why Austin is such a great city- why the people were so happy. He said, “It’s just such a great place to live, and it has such great music, and it’s the kind of place where you can do music full time and own a house. Why wouldn’t we be happy? Austin’s special.”
Indeed.
THE CLUB:
Was good. The owner was a cool guy. He was really supportive to the performers! He came up to me before AND after and offered me beverages. One thing… it was funny to me… because we were mostly acoustic acts/ broken down acts at this club…. as I was the first three songs of my set, until I added in the full track samples for the end of my set…. the stage was right next to the front door, where people were coming in and out, and so I could hear the heavy rock band, which was playing in the club next door to me, during my entire set. It makes perfect sense that I could hear them since they were about fifteen feet away from me… LOL…. Only I could hear that… later, I watched the video, as Josh taped the performance for me to see/ hear/ learn, and there was no sign in any way that I was singing not only to me accompaniment and tracks, but to a hair band as well.
It almost made sense to me, on stage. My philosophy about performing is: ride the energy as it is, and fall in love with the wave. That’s what I did, hair band and all.
The place was packed and people were streaming in and out. The crowd was amazing. Some of my fans got there early and were super supportive, getting really into it and even dancing during some of it. There is almost nothing more gratifying then people dancing to Supernatural, or to an acoustic piano version of La Vie En Rose. Really. It really means a lot to me when people show support and enjoy the music. It makes me want to give you everything I’ve got plus ten thousand. So, guys, thank you so much for being there! It makes all the difference in the world! And I love you back. And let’s hang out again sometime soon. I’ll bring my guitar.
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