My pieces are scattered.
I am all over the place.
Emotionally. Practically.
Creatively stunted. Lost. This past week
all of the pieces of my life twisted and bruised and frayed. Overwhelmed, I was accused of
uncharacteristic behaviour, I was hurt, I was angered, felt strained and fell
into a few days of sickness that were lost to misery and sleep. It could have been I caught something on my
travels but if I know my body and my heart like I do, I am guessing I wore
down, broke down and succumbed to the struggles. It happens.
I know I am not alone there.
I am doing my best, my very best. I am trying to keep my chin up, muddle
through the worry and to honour what is asked of me and expected. It is a difficult task when you feel adrift
and you have no idea how to reach the shore.
Safely. Without capsizing.
I am feeling better today. I got outside, bought some stationary, bought
tea, bought trinkets for Halloween. It
helped. More than I can mention. I even wrote a sappy little poem while eating
tomato soup with crackers, listening to Matt Epp records. I thumbed through my worn dictionary, took
time to appreciate words and the solitude of it all. It felt good, like home, like healing. Sort of.
This was the result of spending time alone:
The Sequestered
‘what will survive of us is love’ – Philip Larkin
the moment you wake up
in the middle of the night
quietly hopeful talking in bed
a snare of soft supple syllables
you place your kiss on my face
charming and tender and civil
in the blue hour of morning
the moment you find sleep
your throat humming low
slowly alerting me awake
just an ordinary woman
just an ordinary gentleman
the sequestered
the harmonious
two
blending
imperfect is a passive paradise
when true romance is vanquished
**
Speaking of Matt Epp, he's releasing a six song EP called 'Luma' in a few days. 20% of his CD sales world wide will be going to Save The Children. He was inspired by the efforts of Alicia Keys and is following suit. He is such a good human. Make sure you go take a listen and support.
Like yesterday’s sun, I was conquered. Conquered by a little big show at The Marquee
Ballroom on Gottingen Street. Gord
Downie, The Sadies & The Conquering Sun completed their summer tour in
Halifax. I had been looking forward to
this show for MONTHS. Gord, of course,
is my poet love and hero. I have so much
appreciation and respect for him and his art, his performances, his ideals and
approach to music and the world. As I
mentioned before, I’ve seen the Tragically Hip a lot but I’ve always watched from
a fair distance. Last night, I was
fortunate to be right in the front and prior to them taking the stage
butterflies swirled around like caged animals in my tummy. Nerdy as it may be, it was a big deal for me
to be that close to the stage, to experience Gord. The whole damn thing altered my insides,
shuffled my pieces around. I haven’t
felt that way since my Leonard Cohen show in 2013.
He looked like a rogue angel in white, wide-brimmed hat
and all. He was incendiary right down to the tips of his black pointed budget shoes. He toyed endlessly with his microphone stand,
toyed with the audience that were just as rapt as I was. I am in complete awe
of the man, his antics, his facial expressions, his inventiveness and his command
of the English language, he knows how to manipulate words to make wonder. And really, what other man do you know who
would insert the word ‘odious’ into audience banter? He is the polar opposite
of anything extremely unpleasant, repulsive.
He is a Supreme Being. My heart grew six sizes to Sunday, I thought it
might burst in my chest.
So close, so damn close.
Holy snappin' bananas, so close. So cool.
I was nervous that with all of my family goings-on, I’d
be hard pressed to find it in me to fully enjoy the moment and be present. For the minutes he was obliterating the
stage, everything melted away. I was in
my moment that I had been anticipating all these months. I am grateful for the time that I spent
outside of my head and my worries; fully engaged in music, euphoric and weightless. Gord looked down into my little old soul,
literally. He stood over me, looked into my face as he sang, full frontal eye
contact. All at once, it was soothing
and overwhelming, so much so I had to momentarily look away. Too much power for
my tender heart but I will savour that feeling for the rest of my small
literary life. At the end of the show, he reached down with his warm hand and squeezed
mine (my bud’s too) and said, ‘Thank you for being in front.’ I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.
Mind was blown.
In addition to the music from their ‘Conquering Sun’
record they were touring in support of, they also pulled out three stellar
covers, ‘So Sad About Us’ by The Who and in their encore they pulled out Guided
By Voices’ ‘I Am A Scientist’ and then obliterated us with ‘I Got A Right’ by
Iggy & The Stooges. Musically, it
was a perfect show. What am I saying, it
was a perfect show in every single aspect.
And what about The Sadies! Holy snappin’ bananas they are
increddddible. They are an opulent and
cohesive unit. They melted my face.
Miraculous. I was just as enthralled by their musical offerings as I was with
Gord’s. And together, they are a mighty
mighty force. When The Sadies get back to Haliax, I will be there. No question.
I should also note that the Adam Baldwin Band opened with
a killer set and primed the room with his exceptional songs. He tweeted yesterday (and I am paraphrasing)
that The Sadies are an institution, Gord Downie was a legend and he was just a
skid opening for them. I, in my nerdy fashion, being the music geek I am
replied and told him he is OUR institution.
I am pleased to see him doing so well with his EP, he was nominated for
SIX Music Nova Scotia music awards this year.
He’s loved and rightly so. Skid no more in my opinion, not that he ever
was one. The kid can PLAY. And his band
is top shelf. Hometown pride right
there. And all of this happened with my
good buds alongside me. There’s nothing
better than having your friends next to you for the important things. I sure do love them.
Adam Baldwin Band KILLING it as per usual.
Last night’s show and Leonard Cohen at the Halifax Metro
Center in 2013 are the two most important music moments of my life. And Duran Duran in Montreal, seeing the O5,
as it brought my childhood full circle.
I’m still reeling from the whole crazy thing this
morning. I’m appreciative to have a
vacation day to unwind and process it all before I return to my 9 to 5 and my
family. I can honestly say that the smile on my face is a genuine one. I haven't had cause to smile for a little bit now but when he waltzed across that stage, my face hurt from happiness. This moment will always be a bright spot in a large sadness. I'll never forget it.
Grateful, grateful, grateful. For music, for my heroes who are also my friends and for Gord Downie, my poet love.
I’ve been pecking at this poem for over a week. It’s been a long worrisome one, dealing with
a family matter that stopped my creativity that had just re-emerged. This past week has been a blur, it’s been
like floating in a dream, being on the outside watching myself. It’s tough to watch someone you love weaken
and move closer to their end. It’s so
important to be present and loving and open with your people. It’s so important to communicate and laugh
and share your life and in turn share in theirs. Be kind and tell those you love that you
truly do. Before it’s too late,
everything truly is temporary in this life which makes time extraordinarily
precious. Use it wisely, don’t waste
it. I’ve been doing just that even more
so this past week.
I managed to spend some time this weekend out with my
buds, decompressing. Friday night I
attended the first birthday party for my favorite Halifax radio station, Radio
965. I was bone tired but loved the
festive red carpet, the fun in the photo-booth and great performances by The
Brood, Soho Ghetto, Dylan Gythro and Adam Baldwin. I kept close watch on my phone in case of
emergency and swallowed the guilt of being out. There are people who would be
extremely judgemental of me for stepping out during this tentative time in my
family but I was instructed by a wise man to pay no mind to that nonsense and
do what eases and fulfills me. The music
was soothing, I won’t lie.
The same thing happened last night. My bud yanked me out of the house and spent
her extra ticket on me to go see former Guns n Roses guitarist play at The
Seahorse. Cape Breton got Slash and
Aerosmith but I got to see Gilby Clarke.
It was an excellent rock show. I
was disappointed in this city that there were so few people in the bar. Maybe 50 or so. He deserved better. And what a great human. He stopped us on the sidewalk in the pouring
rain while lugging his own gear and thanked us for coming. He recognized us from being inside. Zero pretension. I was glad I decided to get out in the world
and experience something instead of hiding away.
Gilby Clarke rockin' @ The Seahorse, September 13th, 2014
Tonight is the night I’ve been waiting on for
MONTHS. I scooped up tickets for my poet
love Gord Downie and The Sadies right away because they are playing The Marquee
and that means an intimate show compared to the several Tragically Hip shows in
large arenas and open air fields. I’m
still riddled with guilt and am truly trying to maintain my excitement for this
show. The thought of being THAT close to
a stage he’ll grace, gives me goose-bumps.
He’s an absolute hero of mine, I admire and respect his writing, and
he’s an incredible performer. His poetry
book, ‘Coke Machine Glow’ is one of my most coveted volumes, like ever. A massive fire broke out this morning in a commercial
building just behind the venue, I hope it doesn’t have any impact on the
show. If it does, I hope the contingency
plan is a good one. The Adam Baldwin
Band is opening tonight too so that will make it a good night all around.
While I putter and lounge a little, I’m also attempting
to break in my shoes for a wedding next weekend. A family wedding. My nephew is marrying his love and it will be
so nice to witness that and have a night where my family are all in one place
together. I am hoping Dad is well enough
to attend. I know how badly he wants to
be there. Prayers are welcome.
As for the above poem, I did write it with a specific
human in mind. Exactly who it is I will
never tell. Hee.
I maintain that music sustains me, it is my form of
prayer, how I measure time and place, music is oxygen, music is life and love
and longevity. It inspires me to write,
rocks my core, brings me to tears and raises me up to religious heights. For someone who can’t play an instrument and
his highly uncoordinated, I am a slave to every note, every pulsing beat,
taking each waltz to the edge of everywhere; music is everything. Music solves the sunset, muses the
moonlight. It’s hard to not wax poetic
about the most beautiful and unifying language on the planet.
I have attended a plethora of shows this year, discovered
new and exciting artists and value each experience for the energy and stimulus
I garnered.
Here’s a loose list of many of 2014’s musical highlights:
Matt Mays – NYE @ Casino NS w/ Carmen Townsend, Big Red Festival in PEI and at
The Shore Club in Hubbards, NS.
Blue Rodeo - Halifax Metro Center
Adam Baldwin CD release party with Sam Cash & The
Romantic Dogs - Seahorse Tavern
Wintersleep/USS/The Trews – The Marquee
Matt Epp – The Carleton
Royal Wood – St Matthew’s Church
City and Colour – Halifax Metro Center
The Stanfields (acoustic) – The Carleton
July Talk – Alderney Landing for Canada Day, Big Red
Festival in PEI
Sam Roberts – Alderney Landing for Canada Day
Ben Caplan, Alderney Landing for Canada Day
Drive By Truckers – Big Red Festival in PEI
Platinum Blonde – Casino NS
Brian Byrne – The Carleton
Gloryhound CD release w/ The Motorleague – Seahorse Tavern
Dave Marsh & True Love Rules, The Navy Brats – Jacob’s
Lounge & The Carleton for HUFF
The Killers – Big Red Festival in PEI
Nashville Pussy w/ Fifth on the Floor – Seahorse Tavern
Dropkick Murphys – Cunard Center
Ashley MacIsaac – The Carleton
Dylan Guthro & Mo Kenney – Casino NS
Dwight Twilley (soundcheck) – The Carleton for HUFF w/ an
honourable mentionable hug from Garland Jeffreys
Adam Cohen – The Carleton
My list is missing bits and bobs I am sure, things like remarkable
Saturday nights at The Carleton with The Carletones etc etc but what I really
want to discuss is the last entry on my list, Adam Cohen.
For those of you born under a rock, Adam Cohen is the
song of Leonard Cohen but stands beautifully on his own two feet as a
singer/songwriter/performer. While he
acutely resembles his father and has the same awe-inspiring voice, his songs
are all his own. It’s true, there is
homage present to the music he was born into but there is a definite tone of
originality and songs that express what he so deeply wishes to share with his
audience.
I’m not sure I have attended a show at The Carleton with
such palpable energy, a loving energy that boasted a sheer veil of faith and
hope, creativity and grace. Adam took
the stage with his outstanding band and straight out of the gate, just from the
ambiance of humanity circulating through the room, from person to person, a
tiny and constant tear streamed from my left eye. I tried very hard to stop it but an
overwhelming wash of emotion was too powerful to defeat.
His stories of his family and his father, his sweet sense
of humour and his songs made for a beautiful evening. He speaks like a poet, performs like a rock
star and accepts his accolades with a humble heart. When he played a new song from his new record
called ‘Love Is’ he had the whole bar singing it with him and those as you know
are moments I live for; harmony among humans, unity in one voice. It fills me up and it pours out of my silly
face. He continued to overthrow my heart
when he finished with Dad Cohen’s ‘So Long Marianne’. If I was permitted and it wouldn’t made me
look like a complete wiener I’d have let the tears come like Niagara Falls. It was really hard to sing along without my
eyes bursting and then my concert company would have clocked me for
crying. Thankfully her back was to me
for the duration of the show. I was singing
‘Now so long Marianne, it’s time that we began to laugh and cry and cry and
laugh about it all again …’ but not at the top of my lungs like I wanted
because it would have come out in sobs.
This is how I know that the time he shared with his last night will
resonate for a long time to come. After
the encore I made a mad dash for a mascara check and to catch my breath.
I had the opportunity to shake his hand, compliment his
artist and offer my gratitude for making my Saturday perfect. He spoke very highly about his father’s
command of the English language and his elegance. I told Adam Cohen I loved the words he spoke
about Leonard but they truly mirror back at him in his own right. His handshake was firm and warm and
appreciative. It was an honour to look a
Poet in the eye and speak about words and music and for it to have
meaning. It was a small but mighty exchange
but I can’t tell you what it meant to me.
For me, Adam Cohen, who sold out every single seat for
three nights straight, was the BEST show I’ve seen to date at The
Carleton. It runs dangerously close to
every Matt Epp show I’ve seen there because his shows and music and artistic
intention moves me in the very same way.
I am compelled to spend today writing, musing, thinking
creatively, counting blessings and filling my ears with beautiful music.
I am desperate to write. My story outline sits stagnant,
waiting for me to pay attention, the characters are off to the side, and their are arms folded impatiently waiting for me to get my poop in a group. I am still stifled by the 9 to 5 but maybe
now I’m using that as an excuse because my lofty procrastination has turned into
another painful bout of writer’s block.
It is entirely my fault for not
writing. I should be writing. And trust
me, I am trying.
The good news is, I am reading a lot and taking in live
music shows to keep me breathing. I did
manage to get a lovely weekend away from the grind but I maintain I still
require a retreat. Absolute solitude, no
technology, no distractions. If I didn't
require a steady paycheck I’d be gone in a heartbeat.
I just want to be artful.
And, in the spirit of wanting to be artful on the last day of the long weekend and since I didn't post a single thing in the month of August, I set a goal for myself to write a poem
today.
This was the result:
Sharp Tender Shock
You, in the brazen sun
a concept easily quoted
a sharp critical engagement
an event among philosophers.
You, fixed in a delicious swirl
throwing a tender muted gaze
speaking an intoxicating language
an unprecedented artful arrangement.
You, safe in the comforts of metaphor
a stimulating shock of necessary illusion
a threshold to the fall of cinnamon rain
a font of deeply decorous translations.
I invited you to the end of this poem
to reference the sharp tender shock I am
in from the tenacity of your turgid heart
where I am permitted to mention a thing
so vulgar as love.
**
Phew. It's icky but it is writing, right? Right.
You'd think that after watching Dwight Twilley's soundcheck yesterday, getting a hug from Garland Jeffreys and sitting in on a songwriter's workshop by Brian Potvin (Northern Pikes) and David Pirner (Soul Asylum) I'd have more to say. But in all honesty, I'm still in awe of my day. of those artists. I did soak up some mojo though. Maybe this week I will set small attainable goals for writing. Even a page an evening. I think I can handle that. Maybe I need to revisit the concept of writing prompts again. Ugh.
the harlequin inside of you cannot soften things that
have hard edges
your pointed collar, your puffed chest, your servant
character unable
to dull the ends even with one hundred inclinations of
body language
things that have sharp edges are not as eager to
entertain as you are
they don’t let you fall in love handsome faces or dance around
in time
things that have sharp edges strain you into odd shapes
headlong into
distilled regret burnished by bad hands, drunk
processions, sad enemies
improbable is a gracious response from the things that
have sharp edges
the things that leave you hungry for details and for the greatest
escape
the heart inside of you cannot ease the disorder of my trenchant
story
the things that have sharp edges are deceptively casual
and cut in deep
the singular purpose of my long inner monologue is to not
accept the truth
things that have sharp edges are revelatory
even the
unspecified parts of you recognize
**
Trying to keep my noodle working by writing poetry. I tweaked this while loading my iPod, doing laundry ans nursing a beer, relief from the muggy weather. I was given a writing prompt, make a list of things that have sharp edges. I didn't feel like making a list so I did what I usually do when I break the rules, I write a poem.
I was listening to Serena Ryder but switched to my favorite Canadian band, July Talk. Check them out below if you don't know them yet. They are AMAZING live.
of profound sadness and the lightness of contentment
I cannot seem to find the trajectory of my dented pattern
the impatience of having to wait for someone to endow
the impaired notions of memorizing romantic proverbs
for luck
why can I not enjoy the pleasant feeling of oneness, harmony
why can I not put this particular melancholy into wistful
words
and accrue eager detractors with the lure of
licentiousness
but we all know extravagances wane quickly in the glint
of morning
I am sojourned in limbo waiting for a sovereign man
I am abided by minted annulment anticipating love
**
I had some time to play with words today. I finished this little mess of a poem. I would reveal my inspiration but then it might ruin your interpretation. It comes from a deeply personal place and for some reason I had reservations about sharing it. Sometimes, what goes into a poem can make me feel insecure when it should be empowering. It does empower and help to release the stress of a dilemma once I let it go and share it, put it into the ether. So, that's what I've set to do today.
I am still working relentlessly on a pile of notes for my short story. I cannot seem to get my act together, get out of my own way long enough to get anything done. Perhaps once the renos at home are complete and my writing space is my own again and not cluttered with the downstairs mess I will be able to focus and carry on.
Fingers crossed.
Until then, one day left of the work week and I can cap the week off with a show at The Marquee with my buds. Deertick, Adam Baldwin and Jessie Brown. I'm looking forward to a little rock to relax me.
