i want pockets full of firecrackers. i will, however, settle for the sounds of a strummed guitar in the midsummer night air. last week i played with anchoress at local 269, a bar on east houston frequented mostly by jazz groups and rock bands. it was our debut show, and the bunch that stuck around till 11 pm to hear us play were true troopers! it's a bit weird, focusing that late at night, but ultimately we - that is, lisa dowling, bass, charlie rauh, guitar, and me on flute - are about listening. i made it through despite a pounding headache.
i've recently spent some time at the office for which i used to work full time; the pace of the day and the tight-knit community are quite different than the arts world. in a way, creative relationships are founded on an immediate and steadfast respect. in the corporate world, it takes more time to establish those connections, but the strength of the ties is the same.
i've been working towards a two-woman show with lydia love in november; i over-intellectualize everything about my art. i blame my psycho-analyst mother. does that imply a freudian affiliation? mental health professional. so i'm trying to get into a place where i can be true, safe, and vulnerable. does such a place exist for everyone, accessibly?