night rainbow

a feeling takes form when you give it a name. I have been feeling many feelings lately, and in the state of feeling so much feeling, I have contemplated what it is to feel. I have explored the multi-colored rooms of sensation and emotion. I have noticed how you can feel seemingly contradictory things within the same emotion-- the pleasure of longing, the pain of laughing too hard, the fear of getting what you want. we are complicated creatures. thank the heavens for music. in this time of intense feeling, I find music is like a warm hug of belonging on cold lonely nights.

two nights ago I found a name for a feeling: night rainbow. I am currently sequestered up north in a cabin in the sawtooth mountains. I am here to face my fears. I am hiding up here so that I may finally learn how to stop hiding. I am here to make music, and then to share that music and hope that it serves as a warm hug of belonging for someone else. I am here with my friend and collaborator, jaffe zinn, and so far so awesome. I am enjoying the ride of elation to frustration within minutes of each other. we work well together, and that comes as a big relief to both of us. it's not an easy thing to find. collaboration at its finest, pulling out the best of each part, making something wholly better than you could have alone.

the other night at the end of a long day, we stepped outside into the darkness to discover what I could only name a night rainbow. glowing around the moon, a rainbow of light. it seemed too perfect for how we were feeling and what we were doing. finding the colors in the dark. and so the name was formed for our collaboration. and now, a little peak of our night rainbow.



much love,
b

10 things I learned last night

feeling lost? wanna find yourself? I suggest you head out into the desert alone in the middle of the night with no cell reception and drive with only your headlights guiding you through a torrential hail and lighting storm. that's what I did last night. here are a few things I learned:

1. fear is a temporary feeling you can push through
2. you can never really see what's ahead, it's good to practice getting comfortable with that
3. you are braver than you let yourself be most of the time
4. music is like medicine on dark lonely nights (and pretty much all other times too)
5. lightning is beautiful at a distance and terrifying up close, but it's still the same lightning
6. your mind will tell you to stop long before you need to
7. the consequence of doing what scares you, is that you become aware of your power
8. it's good to remember yourself before there were cellphones
9. it's perfectly ok to give yourself a pep talk, out loud
10. we are only as lonely as we let ourselves be

help me!

I am awake

I am awake. it is dark outside. I want so badly to pick up the phone and call someone right now, but I am giving them the space they need. so I let the space spread like an inky blot, I surround myself with its blackness. what doesn't kill you...

we love, we love hard. sometimes that love takes form as the perfect and pure thing it was intended. sometimes it gets distorted, filtered through fear and doubt and selfishness. the intention alone is not enough. we must watch that love like a hawk. we must constantly take stock, is my love being expressed as love, or has it been cleverly disguised as disappointment or judgement? is my fear of loss turning my love into a hard ball instead of a soft hug? it's easy to become very convinced that what we are doing is right, in response to so much wrong done upon us. but then sometimes a gift, in the disguise of a gut punch, forces you to realize you might be the one to blame for all your dissatisfaction. maybe the love you'd been missing was there all along and it was you that was shutting it out, calling it by another name. maybe you were too busy sinking into the vicious pit of self pity to notice that what you were wanting was right in front of you all along. ah to be a victim, it can feel so juicy, so victorious in its twisted way. but how is the world to respond to someone who feels so unjustly treated? all the blessings bestowed upon your head, tossed aside and dismissed as one more example of how you just have it so much rougher than you should. I am trying to stay with the fact that remains, I am lucky to be here. I am lucky to love, even when loving leaves you sick to your stomach in the middle of the night.

here is something I have been sitting with these past few days: strength is the softest thing you will find. strength is softer than a bunnies tail. strength is not hard like I have been thinking for too long now. I want to soften. I want to open wide and say aaaaaaah. I want to let it all in and have faith that it won't destroy me. I want to trust. I want to let down these walls that I've convinced myself were protecting me, when it is clear now, all they have done is keep me away from the one thing I am wanting--love.

here's to staying soft and open and loving like you mean it.

perhaps this will make sense to someone?

yesterday on the phone with my friend jamie, while engaging in one of our usual meaning-of-life-weight-of-the-universe conversations, I said, "life is just a series of days. are we enjoying each one?" she told me to write it down, maybe even share it. this is me writing it down. this is me sharing it.

and it's true, life in all the things it is, is just a series of days. and so I ask myself, am I doing my part to enjoy each one? and yes, there it is, the cliché that can only be so because it is dripping with pertinence, with truth and necessity. (how strange that we dismiss something because it is said too much-- perhaps it is said with frequency for a reason?!) it is when I forget the importance of taking it day by day, step by step (ooh baby), that I start to suffer. it is when I blow it all up into this grotesque form, too large to face, too heavy to carry, that I feel like I can't "take it". life is so many things we can't know or understand. why spend all our glorious time here floating in the abyss when we could be splashing in the waves-- the place where the infinite meets land? sometimes it feels right to float, but is it also good to have something solid beneath your feet. and we're back where we (or at least I) started, keeping it simple (another invaluable "cliché") . taking a walk, being glad you are able. enjoying the sky in all its endless incarnations (it never fails to amaze me, a sky! above my head!), eating a piece of fruit that came from a tree, I repeat, eating a sweet and delicious treat that grows on trees! (how have we ceased to marvel at such things?!), talking to someone, perhaps familiar or strange, showing them the kindness that is always coursing through your heart.

I have been nervous lately, people seem tense, waiting to burst, to yell or shoot someone in the face. I want the world to sing the lullaby that always hums in the quiet spaces-- the spaces in between the wanting and the having. I want to sing it for others, when they have lost the ability to hear it themselves, when it seems the world has become a cruel place designed for their personal torment. I know how it feels to see it that way. I also know what it feels like to be completely and utterly helpless to the wonder that is getting to be here. (said slowly) we...get...to...be...here! why? we don't know. but, we are here! and while we are here, we get days to play with. we get measurements of time to spend growing or shrinking as much as we please (or don't please). we get seasons to change and challenge the nature of what is possible. we have so much and never enough. we get to ask, and not know the answer. yes, that seems like a lot for a human to handle, but we've been handling it for so long and despite how awful the news reports are, I would like to believe that we are more good than evil, that we hope more than we despair, that we are more interested in sharing than possessing. I choose to believe that, because that's the world I want to live in. as long as I am here, I want to try my hardest to enjoy it.

icky sticky

unsticking yourself can be sticky when you're feeling stuck. I feel stuck. there it is. the first step taken with my bubble gum soul. it's hard to move through this feeling. I see the other side. there is a cool breeze blowing, whispering a welcome to me, "come to the other side, you'd feel better once you got here". but here I stand, eyes gazing, mouth agape, stuck. what it is exactly? this feeling. the desire to move mashed up against the overwhelming feeling that I can't. I have a reoccurring dream that I need to run but my legs will only move in slow motion as impending doom races towards me. a failure to survive. a failure to thrive. all I want to do is thrive. to jive walk my way into a room full of awesome. to shine like a light that's been waiting for years to do its thing. building building building...burning bright. I feel like a light bulb left in the dark.

I am my own worst enemy. no one is to blame. chew on that one young lady.

I want the freedom that comes with movement. movement away from the bullshit I've been believing for too long. movement towards the truth that is always humming in my head but is drown out by the cacophony of lies I surround myself with. I need to be able to find peace and quiet inside, even in the middle of a busy street. I need to quit finding excuses, quit laying blame, quit being lame. I want to feel different, be different, act different, live different. I want to do the things I say and say the things I do. I want I want I need I need me me me KABOOOOM!!! destruction. ashes. a seed. some sunlight. some rain. some oxygen... me, still here, still growing, still trying. that's all I can do.

what's a captain without a crew?

I'm pretty good at giving; I learned that from my mom. one thing that I am not so good at is receiving; I think I learned that from my dad. I left home at 18. I remember the first time I got the flu away from home, never had having a mother seemed so valuable as when I was puking alone. being on your own hardens you, it makes you tough. growing up, my father held the aura of a man who had survived alone in the woods for years--I wanted to be that man. so when it was time, I went out into my own woods, I fed and clothed and sheltered myself. I kept myself company many lonely nights, trying to ignore the scary sounds that hide in the dark.

and here I am, over a decade since I had my mom to feed and comfort me or my dad to keep me safe. I have taken care of myself, for that I am proud. but I am starting to think I may have over-corrected. tonight it struck me how alone I still feel, even though I have a loving boyfriend and family and many incredible friends. while making my bed tonight I was overwhelmed with how many times I have completed that act in the silence of an empty apartment. something about it saddened me so deeply. something made me long for another person to help me fluff the comforter like I know my mother would have.

there is tremendous strength in giving. I enjoy giving to others. I like knowing that in my own way I can help others with the unavoidable difficulty of life. but then, when I am in need of such comfort, I find I don't ask for it, or allow for it to enter into my space. in all my desire to be tough, I have forgotten the incredible grace that lies in softening. to be self-reliant is commendable, but to be open to other's care takes even more strength. there is a vulnerability to letting yourself depend on someone that takes a lot of courage. I think I have proven that if I had to, I could survive on my own. it's good to know that. I needed to know that. but, I am not on my own, and it's nice to have someone help you when you're tired of helping yourself.

mad dancers

be willing to risk that the world may not hear the music to which you dance--you may appear as a crazy person, but that's no reason to stop dancing. as long as you hear music, dance.

how to pack for a mystery

it is raining outside and my heater is broken and I am happy as can be. I am camping out on my bed. I am wearing a warm hat, wool socks, sweatpants and a big sweater my boyfriend gave me. with me on this quilted island I have everything I could possibly need: books, a journal, my guitar and a cup of tea. I'm not leaving until I have a story to tell.

lately I have been craving adventure. the other day I ran into my friend john, he was wearing a marvelous new hat. he said "hello" and then warned that he might smell weird - he had literally just returned from an 8 day journey and was as yet unshowered. he smelled fine. when I asked the nature of his trip, he told me a wonderful tale. a friend of his had told him to be at the airport at 7am and to bring a passport, no other details were given. so when john's alarm went off at 5:15am, he gathered his things completely unaware of what laid ahead.

how does one pack for a mystery?

he settled on the clothes he was wearing, a pair of pants, a pair of shorts, two t-shirts, two pairs of underwear, flip flops, echinacea, toothpaste, a toothbrush, chapstick, a murakami novel, a journal, sunglasses, and one packet of space ice cream (just in case). upon arriving at the airport, he was told by his friend that they would be flying to buenos aires. and so they did, and they had an awe-inspiring time ripe with rooftop sunsets and intoxicated bus rides and hot norwegian girls.

while listening to him, I couldn't help but notice the pulling in my gut for such an experience. why didn't I have a friend buying me a ticket to buenos aires? why didn't I just arrive from an exciting place with these stories to tell? and then it hit me, running into john that day was my adventure. I don't have to go somewhere to experience life. yes, traveling can pry open otherwise sleepy eyes, but I can just as easily force them open with my awareness. I can board a plane or stay in bed, it doesn't matter, as long as I give whatever I am doing my full attention. my life, wherever I am, is the adventure, all I need do is live it.

without you, there'd be no sundae

he left again this morning. you would think that it had little effect on me anymore, but no matter how many times (and oh there have been many) that I have kissed him goodbye and said "come home soon", the soon feels so far away, like some impossible goal. he is going to japan this time, and australia. I am going to be here, like usual, keeping our apartment anchored to the earth. while he flies, I will do my best to stay grounded. yesterday he was telling a friend on the phone how lately life for him has felt like one cherry after another is falling on top of his sundae. it's scary almost, just when you think it couldn't get better, a fatter and juicier cherry flops on the sundae. I told him this morning when the alarm went off, myself already awake in the dark, that I felt like I was once the biggest cherry on that sundae, but it was hard now to compete with all the excitement that was swirling around like caramel in his sweet life. he got still and I could feel him thinking, and then he wrapped me in his arms and said, "no, you're the bowl, without you, there'd be no sundae."

he(art)

don't use art to get love. don't use your tits or your pouty wet lips either. don't use your eyes and their slow blinking lashes. don't use tired eyes for that matter. don't use lies or excuses, or half-arsed proclamations you may mean at one moment but won't in another. don't use anything but your red banging drum of a heart. let that be the one and only thing you use to get love. then you can use art to talk about that love or the loss of that love or the longing for that love or the crippling strangling fear of that love. only then can you call it art.

dear future me

yesterday I wrote my future self an email. it ended with "I am proud of you in advance. love, b"

my hope is that when future me receives this email sent by present me, she is happy. that is really all. whatever that means-- rich, poor, famous, forgotten, I just hope she's happy. in the email I talked about her obnoxious laugh, how it's really too loud for most people, and how I hope she still has it. I hope that if nothing else, I go down as the girl who laughed a little too loudly for other people's comfort. I am not here to make things comfortable. I am here to make things better. there is a difference. I hope I am doing the latter. I could always be doing more. but I think I am doing a pretty good job.

it's such a struggle, to stay here, with present me, to not fall for future me and all that she has finally figured out. but under the strain of learning, I hope my face scrunched up would appear as a smile to a passerby. I am trying to find the joy in the toiling. sometimes I even manage to forget how difficult that can be.

outside my window

outside my window, someone is beating an egg. I brush my teeth and wonder if they will be eating their breakfast alone. we live in solitary stacks. late at night I hear the clicking of typewriter keys. I am impressed. it pushes me to stay a little longer at my piano keys. we live side by side alone. who are these people sharing my water pipes? who is hiding behind these walls? perhaps I will go knocking...

and again the question forms in my quiet thoughts, are we supposed to go it alone? the valor of a solo flight vs. the pleasure of a party boat. I suppose as with everything, there is a point somewhere in the middle worth finding. I can't blame anyone else for my failings, but I can thank many for their help along the way. sometimes it's as simple as knowing they are there to make you a sandwich on the days things don't go so great. but ultimately, I need to take comfort in knowing I am the only fan I need. the only co-pilot on this flight is my faith in myself, everything else is just cocktails and peanuts. oh I know I've said these things before, but just as soon as I've forgotten them.

*originally written 7/26/2010

we are here!

I'm glad I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, I really believe that once I "figure it out" I will turn to star dust and return to the endless sky. I'm here to wonder. to not know what the f word is going on half the time. to get frustrated and sad and confused and angry, and then, to stick it out because I know what it feels like to laugh.

oh what a joy, to feel! and what is a feeling but a friendly reminder that we are here. WE ARE HERE! wha?!

I'm just gonna keep on feeling, and you know what else? I'm gonna talk about all those feelings! I'm gonna spell it out for anyone willing to listen. I'm going to put on a show on the street corner. I'm gonna say what's really going on when asked, "how ya doin?"

I love you world. I want to be close to you. I want to give you a key to my secret garden, who am I to keep it hidden?

throw down your heart, pick up a banjo

this makes me want to live harder and play more. watch it and smile.

I look up squinting

it seems lately that my posts (few that they may be) all start with some quip about how I haven't been writing enough. but that my friends, is a lie. I am constantly writing. what I am not writing is blog posts, what I am writing is songs. so many of them dancing about, bouncing off my skull, snuggling in the squishy bits of my brain. I am loving it. I am so deeply caught up in what I really want, that I have forgotten to think of any of the things I might be lacking. there are always things lacking. my fridge is lacking in vegetables, my bed is lacking in companionship, my bank is lacking in funds, blah blah blah.

my heart is so darn full.

my head is bursting with ideas. I am dwelling in possibility. I am too busy playing with the idea of what it is that truly makes me happy, to find time to be sad. oh I know how fragile this state is, how temperamental, how quickly it can turn into an inability to get out of bed. but I hold on to it like an angel hair tied to a big bright balloon backlit by the sun. and I just stand there, holding on, and I look up squinting.

white rhodes is the new black

I don't believe I have ever wanted (needed) anything so badly. oh you gorgeous white rhodes mark 7 73, you hold all the songs I haven't yet written. come to me. my apartment is waiting for you and me to fill its silence.

last night

it is 4:04am and I am still awake. calmly I sit in a state of longing. I do not judge it or will it away. I let it tap gently at the gates. a flood awaits.

eventually my lids will tire, but my mind will not--I will let sleep work through the tangles. in the morning I will awake to the gift of one more day. I am better today than the day before and tomorrow I will be better still--but I was enough yesterday. and today? today I have already succeeded--I am here.

I like this

18 rules for living by the dalai lama

1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
2. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.
3. Follow the three Rs:
   1. Respect for self
   2. Respect for others
   3. Responsibility for all your actions.
4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
5. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.
6. Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
7. When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
8. Spend some time alone every day.
9. Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.
10. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
11. Live a good, honourable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time.
12. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.
13. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.
14. Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality.
15. Be gentle with the earth.
16. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.
17. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
18. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

our planetary hearts

my super hero heart
your kryptonite eyes
let's create a world together and save it
let's fly away from what we've known
let's pull our minds from the burning buildings of doubt
fall into me as I fall into you and physics will keep us afloat
take off your pants and show me your tights
let's use our powers to return to the stars
we forget too much in the blaze of these city lights
let's remember that night
let's remember that night
I believe in that night
your laser beam gaze
my super human strength
I know we can make a world worth saving
no distance is too great for the speed of light
let's fly away from what we've known
let's pull our minds from the burning buildings of doubt
fall into me as I fall into you and faith will keep us afloat
I will believe in you like the earth believes in its orbit
I won't fight the pull of our planetary hearts