Vivid or Livid or Worried.

I have a very vivid memory of me sitting on the kitchen floor trying to smooth out the worry wrinkles in both my father and mother’s foreheads when I was very little. I distinctly remember how troubling it was that when I released my little fingers the worry lines were there right away…(not) Once again. Now I here I am trying to battle those similar lines. With no girl and no boy trying to straighten them out.

What a Scene.

B-man was coming to town the day that I was arriving home, but he and Josh were  playing at Webster hall the next day, so we decided we’d meet up before the show. I found him sitting with some newspapers all alone in the Thai place around the corner looking quite distinguished in a dress shirt, vest, and bow-tie. It was so good to see him. (but) Then Flower and their manager and a girl called Jessie who had been singing with them walked in. So since Flower and I have a 3 year past conversation got a little more performed. Which was unfortunate. I also wasn’t feeling too great. Thankfully Chris was at the show and we drank and watched together. Josh has a new half a side which is a lot more rock-y. I like it. Every time Brandon smiled I got so incredibly happy. I know that when musicians travel and perform a lot it gets tedious and even sour, so catching those smiles on someone like him really meant a lot to me. I was pretty tipsy by the end of the show. I caught some chats with Freddy and he seems so happy and in love with his lady. So wonderful. I originally was going to take Brandon to the winery so he can finally see it and we could finally drink some vino together. But there was an after party around the corner so the lot of us headed there. There was rain outside. Josh was outside against a railing and recognized us all from across the street which was a nice welcoming. I gave him Amber’s hug and took one for myself too. The inside was adorable but very full. Whiskey rounds started quick and went fast. Brandon and Chris are very close, and I think it’s great that B has such a good influence. They say I “get it.” I know what that means, and I agree. Zach was there with a girl called Georgie so there was a lot of joking about females with guy names. I blabbered to her a bit about modeling and her drink choices being influenced by it. I was seriously drunk at a certain point and hope I didn’t say anything offensive to anyone. But I do remember some kisses and standing out huddled under an awning protecting us from the rain.

I also remember one moment when Chris turned to me and said “Max this industry is calling your name, don’t you realize…” It was kind of an oddly distinct minute within a whirlwind of whiskey socializing. He has a point, and that point is what confuses me most in this existence.

Las Vegas

So though there was much speculation by many accounts as to the purity of Shahaf’s invite, I boarded the plane to Vegas after dosing my mocha latte with dewars. And drinking a margarita in flight. Me, my little backpack, and my alcohol arrived safely in Vegas, and Shahaf immediately ordered me to take a cab to the hotel. I was quickly struck by the interesting buildings all over the city as we drove, and the entrance to the Venetian definitely made me gasp. Everything is just lavish and the ultimate of cool.

Shahaf made it quite clear right away, too, that I was not going to spend a penny while I was there. Definitely a relief since I am the ultimate of broke. I got accustom to poker, I loved sitting in the poker room, ordering countless coffee with baileys, (only after he doubled the pile of coins in front of him…because that was when I could finally breathe easily)…and picking up the inklings of the game. He’s really good at it. But since I was there to distract him, we definitely explored the strip too. The first night we walked quite a while down the strip, saw some of the treasure island show until I got claustrophobic and annoyed, and saw the water show at the Bellagio (which we saw a few more times while I was there). We bought tickets to see Love for Monday night. I was also able to clear the air about any “funny business” easily that first night because we were at the poker table and the woman next to us said something about us being a cute couple. I quickly answered how that would be creepy since he was like my brother. I saw him pause for a minute and comment about us being like cousins, but I was able to brush off any possibility of ‘that sort of thing’ happening. Perfect.

Monday was amazing. We played some poker, and went to run some errands at the mall before getting ready to head over to see the show. The show was out of this world. I literally had my mouth gasped opened right at the start of it, and was strung along equally as dumbfoundedly impressed throughout the entire thing. It was such a treat. Tuesday we went to see 2012 across town in XD. I cried about every five or so minutes. It was about the end of the world. It was also the first movie I had seen since New Years Day. We went to Sushisamba later and walked around a bit more. I was already starting to get bummed about returning home. That night as we lay in bed watching TV Rosi’s JC Penney commercial suddenly came on and I freaked out with happiness freaking Shahaf out even more. I was so proud. And then I left early in the morning. At 4 a.m. I shared a cab with a lovely older couple who come every year. And just as I was glowing with satisfaction that I hadn’t spent any money, they told me they lost a lot this trip. Oops. I’m glad Karma didn’t attack me on the flight home. I landed safely back in NY after listening to Regina Spektor on repeat. I feel so lucky. I feel so blessed.

Jack-O-Lanterns

I met Kristin on Monday morning at a nail place to get her keys. I chatted with her for a little while. Love her. Then I went to the gym near Union Square. It was Adam’s birthday so I was thinking it would be cool to hang out with him at some point. I ventured into Barnes and Noble to look at GRE books right around the time we were going to meet. It frightened me to death how many options there were…despite the magnanamous efforts and success Kristin had with her and her friends giving me tips. There is just SO MUCH. And SO MUCH I just need to relearn. Especially in math. So Adam came over there, and I walked with him down to Rockwood. I bought him a vegan birthday cupcake along the way. I found out about a little pumpkin carving party Matt was having later with Sarah, Kendal and Chocky and I couldn’t help but blurt out a self invite right then and there. So it was on.

 

 

Live To Chiv

Thursday I woke up freaking out about how messy and disastrous Mer’s apartment was. So I went into a frenzy starting to organize everything. She called three hours later when I was already thigh deep in clothing and in between boxes…saying she’d be back soon. Two hours later she called with some frantic story. So we had brunch and she was telling me how lofty in love she is. I was happy for her. I tried to explain what I was doing the whole morning and early afternoon because it means so much to me to make my friends feel better about living. I wanted her to feel stable and help her get to one part of that by creating a safe home. So we went back and worked for many  more hours and I felt like a personal organizer/therapist/really good friend. It made my day to see her ‘get it’ and work with me. I wanted to leave early to see the boys play at the living room. I texted J to see if I’d be ok cuz it was supposed to be a badge only event. He told me that Mer had a +3 so I should just use that. That irked me a bit but I tried to keep a rational and realize that he just meant we’d be ok with  numbers. Matthew and his friend Oggy sat with me and I was all happy/teary eyed again. It was especially meaningful to see them play there because that’s where it all started.

I went home that night. Mum was also just arriving home from Aunty Celia’s funeral. I literally went to the gym and left back to the city the next day.

 

Allergies’ Opposite.

Let’s just say I woke up with a stiff hangover. It was so bad that I briefly convinced myself that I was allergic to alcohol. So I met up with Adam L. at Sugar bright & early and drank coffee with him. He gave me keys to his place and then I walked him to physical therapy. I was starvin marvin by that point even though it was barely lunch-time so I walked myself over to Caravan of Dreams which was a cozy darkish place to nurse my drunk wounds. I ate a slow meal and made friends with the server. Small world, NYC. By the time I was feeling a bit better, Meredith had texted me wanting to meet up. So we met at B Cup for a little lovely slice of time and chatted. She needed a nap, and we decided we’d meet up later.

It was a nice day and Greg was also wandering so I met him in Union Square and we did some shopping. It’s fun to shop with guys even though I don’t know much about mens clothing. So much less drama than girl shopping. He decided he’d come with me to see the Boys at Rockwood. We stopped at The Bean for coffee. Phil showed up and even though it took me a minute to realize it was him and go say hi, I told him about the show and he said if his audition finished in time he’d come too. 

The boys made me so happy playing at Rockwood, that I literally teared up. They’ve just come so far. I’m a proud Mama. Greg had a CMJ BMI thing at Crash Mansion so we hung out at (more) coffee and Phil texted wanting to meet up with us to hear his Brit-ness.So we had fun little party in the coffee shop until it was time to walk Greg to his thingy. (I’m going to take this opportunity to say that I love having him live here). The Boys and Mer had gone out because Pete’s parents were in town, So I went and hung out with Amber. She introduced me to Bubble Tea, which was tremendously exciting. And then I went to Bowery Electric to re-meet up with the Boys and Mer. The Madison Square Gardners were playing and I was pleasantly over-surprised to have a kick-ass time. They are SO fun. And it felt like a fairy tale moment. Me, Pete, J, and Mer all hanging out. Brianna was also there which was fun. Mer handed me her keys and left with Pete, which warmed my entire insides because I was so happy to see them ‘like that.’

How can I cry if I’m thirsty?

Shouldn’t a lack of supply refrain another part in the same body from using it? 

I really have no right to be full of self pity. I have been blessed never having to worry about funds for learning…until now. I have been afforded a great private education. But now I finally want to go back to school. I have been spending countless hours researching programs, speaking with the officials, figuring out what I need to do in order to get in and then become a registered dietician. But I didn’t realize how much I want it until today when I was speaking with Mum about G&G and the whole money thing. Nothing is for certain, and she kept saying all these weeks that if they won’t pay for it, we will figure out a way. But I’m DEATHLY scared of student loans. And I never thought that it would come to that. Or that she’d even hint to that. And today that happened and I had to leave her and run to my room so that the tears could flow.

I’m so thirsty for this part of my education that desperation let me cry. How odd is that? And how in the world will I explain to Mum that I cannot ever owe anyone money. Or anything else. There are many complicated layers to this fear, I’m sure. Lots having to do with The Father. Lots having to do with my independent ways.  It is my single greatest fear in this world; being in Debt.

because the Wizard told me to.

falling 

into waves of sound

while the leaves get dressed for their great grand

fall

wrapped in cloaks and scarves of fleeting color

green no longer rules the majestic landscapes of rich

auburns, marigolds, and burnt oranges

kaleidoscopes of gliding, colliding 

scraps of whispering souls

gently hither and drifting 

hushed and engulfing 

the great grand earth

but voices notes and ideologies join force with burning empowerment, and wrapping themselves up around

little great grand me, 

only just

fallen. 

 

You’re so fucking special. I wish I was special.

I’ve decided that music completely trashes sexual orientation stability. 

I also have decided that that’s a good thing. Why do we have to associate with just one label? We don’t. 

I will have my girl crushes on certain female singers proudly.

Without thinking I need to change any labels. 

I can have ‘em all. 

Rosh Hashana 2009

It’s that time of year where beginning is about to start and evaluation of the last chapter is only responsible. I mean it’s a year in a life. Last year, this time, I sensed a prophetic feeling of death encroaching, forcing a new sort of maturity upon me. Ed, Grandpa, and Auntie Miriam have all left this world. Not to mention the celebrity deaths which raged rampant too. Beyond the sadness, difficult humps, and eventual (confessingly) cynical turmoil it threw me through, Death has taught me a lot about valuing life more. This past year instead of finishing classes in January and rushing into a corporate job, I took a part time gig at a music venue/winery to cater to my need to be free. Besides for getting to see incredible music shows, meet incredible people, I have been afforded the possibility to tour with Rosi, go to California and see the coast and shoot her video, not to mention the endless adventures in New York with my musicians. I’ve battled with feeling used come to realizations concerning my place in it all. At the end of the day, I have to be the one on my path, doing what fulfills me, or at least for the time being; searching for those things. But it’s pretty clear to me now that the music scene will always be a great part of me.

I have also been focusing a lot on letting go of my anxiety, letting loose, and overcoming my insecurities. It certainly isn’t easy. But Margaret and Kerrville have changed me. It has made me more aware of what should be my priorities, values, and let some pressure slide. Kerrville is kind of like a neverland where everyone lives freely and happily and does whatever they want. Living for the sake of life itself…if only for a few days (and weeks at Big Folk).

I am struggling a lot lately with Judaism. I don’t think I would ever be able to let go completely of my background. however, I have realized from the past few years that never say never is a crucial reality. Slopes are slippery. I’ve gone against everything I had been taught was wrong when I was young. Besides for Yom Kippur, and I severely hope that remains. I am just honestly confused. I have been introduced to so many people and so many ways of thinking, and what I have realized is that Life really is a journey. Living a life of tradition appeals to me on some level, but rigid rules, and in a lot of ways the whole idea of stamped in place organized religion does not. I wish it were clearer what God really wants from us. What if He juts gave us earth and life to pursue it. In this day and age we’ve come so far in learning, evolution, and history that in a way you would think we have an upper hand on Life, and the world’s secrets. But it just makes my questions more complicated because as teachings (especially Jewish) are supplemented and expanded via human minds, writing, and legislation, it’s obviously from just that; the evolution of humanity and thought. And it’s been so very long since the start of it all that nothing is fluid and clear cut anymore. And I wonder if it ever really was.

This year is the first time since Harova that I won’t be in Israel for Yom Kippur and Sukkot. It frightens me in a way, but in a way I’m thinking it was something I was clinging on to to keep my safe 18 year old self, thoughts, and perhaps even life conclusions near by. But it’s been a complete contradiction to the directions I’ve been going in the rest of the year(s).

Where I am at right now is (though admittedly almost pathetically low scaled and short sighted) just finding ME. Who I am, and the obstacle I know I want to overcome. I want to overcome my anxiety. I want to stop being so fast, judgmental, cynical, and jealous, and selfish. I want the light that people see in me to be pure so that I am not ever feeling two faced or even slightly insincere. I want to let go of my fear of dancing. I want to learn to dance. I want to continue seeking my sexual awareness and overcome the bruises buried deep in due to the events of my childhood as well as the teachings of my background concerning it.

I want to live and let live.

I want to maintain true and uncompromising ties to my family because I believe more than ever after this year how important they are.

I want to take a writing class.

I want to pick up the violin, piano, or guitar with genuine commitment.

I want to make enough money to get to Israel for Pesach, and I think I want to make sure I make it to Big Folk.

I want to read the Old and the New Testament thoroughly. And probably Psalms and the Books  of Solomon as well.

I want to keep writing Grandma’s story wit her.

I want to get seriously into Yoga.

I want to be on a path to health inside and out.

I want to figure out if Nutrition Therapy is the way to go for now.

I will consider moving to Austin for the winter.

These things are all short term, but I’m fairly confident that this is the way I need to approach the life path in front of me.

I can honestly say right now that I see life as a gift. I am gratefully accepting the gift and all its inner workings once again with the renewal of this year.

I choose Life. I carefully vow not to remain stagnant.

Little Folk

“I think this is probably Neverland. Children are growing level- not up. Adults bring themselves back to young. Toys and costumes and Free Love and doing whatever we want to be us. Just be you. I’ll be me, and we’ll love eachother because of it; not despite it. And I can’t wipe the smile off my face because I’m walking around in simple happiness of just living outside of time and outside of worry. Nothing else matters…in the most adorable, happy way.”

“This Counsil Tree is cool and calm and the branches are so gnarly that sitting in it feels like we are in a cloud of air under the ground with the roots.”

“This is definitely Neverland. I met some people- mother and daughter from Dallas, and we were able to speak about the magic that exists here. Virgins feel it right away. All of a sudden we can do things we would never do elsewhere. We must have babbled like silly gossip girls but then Tony, who has been here 1976 took me to a group of people playing songs. Papa Ducktape, Will Shakespeare, Summer, and Tammy (on the flute) were all there. They sang a song by Ryan T. Bridge. I took some photos but I get the feeling that the click of the camera, even without a flash is like a too bright snap in people’s consciousness and I wouldn’t want to startle anyone out of their reality.”

“I am grateful that people respond to my happy glow and smile plastered across my face. I guess sincerity glows after all. Raina said that I am the bubbles in champagne. That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me about me.”

“Matt was an alcoholic and he’s ok now keeping busy so he can stay out of his thoughts. He builds beautiful structures, and he hopes they will inspire a young boy to figure out where it comes from and how it works together. He keeps helping and doing good, but there is a melancholy layer underneath all of it, and that’s where doing good to distract and keep busy becomes just a bit tainted.”

“Tyler has a reputation of sleeping around. But he explained to me that he just loves giving pleasure so much that he is a sex addict. I am still trying to figure this out. I think in a way needing to give pleasure is a need to be wanted and needed, almost to the most extreme, possibly twisted extent. On the other hand I have observed the way he picks up responsibilities all over the place, and interacts with Julie and the kids, and it’s almost like his intentions- his remarkably eager to please, pure hearted intentions- make the vulgar, over the top parts of his personality quite possible to pardon.”

Washing Day

I sat in B cup cafe while rain started falling early in the morning after she had left, and got into a FB msg volley with Adam L. He was up so I drank down my Coffee #1 and met him at a cute little espresso bar a few blocks down.  It was Lester Young’s 100th birthday so the radio was playing pefect Jazz music. The macchiatos came forward presented like true art. 

We spoke about my life and my youthful energetic aspirations for myself. We spoke about love and how he waited 40 years for it, and she was taken away so soon. We spoke about connecting to the spirit and how this world isn’t all there is. We spoke about soul-mates, and soul-sisters, and friends who make this world worth living in. I wiped away two and a half tears off his cheek, and we walked out into the rain under my umbrella. He asked me how I know so much at my age. I told him that age isn’t everything. He proved that by liking my idea of devoting one room in a house to bumper cars. 

And later he wrote to me saying I’m rad. He’s radical with a capital R, a beautiful soul with a capital B, and once again I was lucky enough to move on from being in someone’s presence feeling uplifted and blessed.

Troubled Waters.

After the bridge walk I rushed over to see Meredith. She was getting ready for the past few days for the Emmy’s in LA. Apparently she mixed up her moving out date in her mind. It suddenly arrived a month earlier than expected and she had one day to find an apartment, find movers to move her while she’s in California, and get her apartment packed up. On my way I ran into Sarah, bought a sunflower, and some hard cider. We got to talk about her feelings of like, our thoughts and defense mechanisms for love, and what juices are worth what squeezes. I wish I could have done more, but I hope I gave her some sanity through a sense of calm, and we slept in a storytelling bed for one last night. (or should I say one last series of short moments). 

There is night, and there is morning. And somewhere in between, crisis is sidestepped, it dissolves, and everything becomes OK.

Brooklyn Blurs…and Bridges over

Talk about a constelation of nights deserving to be stars. At the rate I’m going, I am so blessed that I presume my life’s constellation will take up most of the universe with all the brightness. 

Amber & I were supposed to see Edward Scissorhands in the park in Dumbo between the Manhattan & Brooklyn bridges on Thursday night. Alex joined us last minute for we time instead of me time. We got there only to realize that more than full capacity amounts of people had the same idea. Not surprising to such a gorgeous night. So we took in the wondrous sights of the water, the bridges and the lights. We waited with Berger taking photos until we were confident that his friend was OK stuck inside there without us. 

 

We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge which quickly turned into my favorite bridge (& I had just explored the Williamsburg and Manhattan bridges during the few days prior!) It was like a majestic suspension of colossal doorways surrounded by rope-like frames which reminded me of walking between larger than life harps. Twas absolutely lovely & I was thinking to myself about how life can’t get much better. 

Alex told me some sweet words which probably let lots of air into my head. But it’s always nice to hear that I’m wise for my age and that I have a good spirit and that I’m a light. And that I’m self aware. Cuz I am certainly working at it.

Friends Love Friends

But the goodness didn’t stop there. 

Monday I saw La Chapelle and she suggested I take a writing class. I got lost with my bike on my way home and got to explore some cool streets I had never known about. That night Mum Rivka and I had a scrumptious sushi dinner. The next day Rivka made Aliyah. I was planning on going into the city to meet up with Mer and catch up. However she was running late with her dress appointments for the Emmys, and I was not sure I’d make it in to the city. But then she said she’d be able to meet me at Banjo Jim’s and Pete and J were playing with Chris and Rich. So I decided to go into the city after all. By the time I got down there I was a sweaty mess and I needed a minute to cool down and warm-up. Pete and Mer immediately hit it off. The music was fabulous. Chris can play the upright bass for many moments all alone and it feels like an entire show. Well, it is. And Rich. I had no idea he was such a ridiculous guitar player. I had known him as a guest Pedal Steel player. Little did I know that’s a new stint of his. He is an incredible guitar player. When he plays he doesn’t make it look easy- he looks like a mad professor who is kind of possessed. Incredible to watch. I drank beer, and felt a little awkward because I didn’t expect to stay out late and fling myself onto J. Time kept passing via conversation with Adam, Adam L, Sarab’s mom, Morrisey’s brother, and eventually I had to ask J what he thought we should do. We all ended up going back to Mer’s roof where J got stung by a bee. At like three in the morning, no less! WTF. I was exhausted because I hadn’t slept the night before since Rivka and I had smoked our way through her last night home. So J and I decided to leave the new blossoming duo and we went back to his place and crashed fast. I had to leave really early and tired. I decided to introduce myself and my feet to the Manhattan bridge, and though it was quite confusing to get to it; the crossing guards and NYPD didn’t really know the way; I made it and it felt good. 

I slept at home that night after work. It felt just right.

Happy, Hot, & Heavy, Oh My!

I have so much to catch up on!

The night after Good Mystery I was going to go see Hans & Sven at Rockwood until I realized that what Dlo was trying to send through Rosi was an invitation to the dinner party which Adam, Amber, and Alex were all going to. It was HER dinner party. So after work & a nap in the greenroom at the winery, I made my way to the loft in Soho. I purchased beer and then ran into Jenny O on the street. I was tipsy and flustered and at that moment I realized I probably have a girl-crush on her. Great. So we got some beer for her bringing together and went up together. Allie, Billy, Kristen (Ing’s Kristen), and a bunch of other people were already there. Rick Barry is someone I follow on Twitter but met in flesh and blood there. (Always fun when virtual acquaintances materialize). Amber and Adam L and Alex and the other Adam all showed up. As did Rosi and Jeremy. I was suddenly surrounded by quite a clan of talented people. Dlo is one of the most extraordinary cooks I have ever met. She made three different Tacos! My favorite was the Mole, which was kind of spicy. Yum. In between each round of Taco, there were rounds of tunes by all the talented folk. Awestruck was I, obvi. Dlo shares my admiration and blessed feeling for knowing all these musicians. She nicknamed me weeMax that night. 

Adam was planning on heading over to Rockwood when the night started winding down, and while blaming it on the bottles of beer I had consumed, I decided to share a cab with him to go say hi to J. We hung out for a bit at Marshal Stats, and then I ended up in a cab with him back to his place. We had a lovely evening and lots of open conversation. I became under the impression that we were on the same page about the kinda feelings, but not really ready for anything committed. I am also fully aware that he’s just out of a relationship & grabbing his independence as a traveling musician seriously. I am also aware of my ability to get jealous very easily from other girls even if I’m not “head over heels for him.” Such is tricky life. But we both knew it would happen eventually. Over-thinking & lots of buildup makes things hot and heavy. So I fell asleep contently feeling oh so light. 

The morning came with kisses, a mix CD (long overdue), and the light feeling extending right up to and through Jeremy’s going away rooftop (which switched to the loft from the rain) party. More amazing mexican food and beer. More great people. Dave and I had a great talk about me doing what I want to do. I had some great conversation with an adorable young mom. I spoke to Ari about Ireland. I also had lots of fun chats with some of the Australian friends and smokers on the roof. 

 

 

Yep that weekend wrapped like a perfect gift of Time.

A Good Mystery

Yesterday was a perfect day. I woke up early like a little girl too excited for what the day would bring to sleep a decent amount of hours. I came to the city and walked from Port Authority to Williamsburg to Angelhouse. My mission was to help Amber out and catch up. The sweltering sweaty humidity didn’t even slow me down; and with my bitter attitude lately that was saying a lot. Angel house was covered in wooden boxes for Amber’s “Good Mystery” CD project. AKA Arts & Crafts. There was recording going on so we worked and chatted intermitently. It’s amazing how she thinks of all the details to go into her project to case the CDs. I crazy glued, I stamped, and (to me the coolest part) I waxed and sealed loads of packages. We got to catch up, and I came to quite a few realizations over the course of the day. A number of things went… shall we say… not wrong, but not so smoothly. And even still by the time show-time hit, I was no less than happy as a ham.

• I kept burning my fingers and messing up with the wax bit.
• The train got stuck in the tube (meaning I had to take a different train all the way into Queens to transfer my way back to the city).
• The downpour.
• The heavy state of the 500 CDs in that crummy weather, and having to hail a cab with my eyebrows.
• I fell TWICE on the same step skinning my knee during soundcheck. 
• We were putting the boxes together last minute right up until the openers started their set.

The way I’ve been lately (namely this summer), even just one of these things would have pushed me over the edge of keeping it cool. But there’s something about Amber. There’s something about her sincerity that makes me happy to toil with her. It was like we were two mad little girls in a frenzy getting it done. And it was wonderful.

When Amber’s set started, I was immediately thrown into a warm cozy realm of good feeling. I kept seeing people I missed. So many smiles. So many hugs. So many glances. And then the music began, and it was like someone took my heart out of wherever it was hiding down in my stomach for quite a number of weeks, and cradled it with lullabies. I was SO peacefully happy. And proud. 

The way people received her last night, reminded me of the way I have seen her received in other places. New Hampshire, California, etc. But I had never realized that New York can be that audience. It was like a captivating magnetic field with calming electrical currents keeping the focus so dead-set on her every note. Amber has improved so much since I’ve met her. She works so hard, she truly loves what she is doing, she is humble, and she possesses an emotional sensibility which ties her to her audiences and fans in a way I have never witnessed before. It is awe some. Literally. Overwhelming. I wasn’t the only one who got emotional and teared up. The aura in the room the entire time was one of repect and admiration. 

Turns out the show was sold out! There was an Oboe Trio who had opened, and joined Amber for a song. It was amazing. Their sound reminds me of being at a ballet (though I haven’t ever been to one!) and Austin and I were mock ballet dancing behind the curtain backstage. Ha. During the main set, there was a precious moment where I heard a little voice saying “Auntie Amber! Auntie Amber!” And I turned to see Amber’s brother carrying little Jade, who was holding a bundle of flowers. Wow. 

I used to love repeating what one of the reviews said about Amber “that you will leave with a crush on her.” But after last night, I almost feel like she has outgrown that word. It is something so much deeper than a crush. It is a kindred spell. A breath of life. And truly spectacular. 

Alternatively, maybe whatever it is “that thing” shouldn’t even be expressed. Maybe it can’t really be expressed. It might just be a Mystery. Oh, but boy, is it a good one.

Wild and Wonderful

Instead of leaving The Grandparents in Florida, and coming back to New York, I decided to fly to D.C. and join Margaret on a hardcore backpacking/hiking/survival trip in West Virginia for three days. I was coming off fear-of-flying-meds when I got to her house and had some G”J so I was quite tired by the time Brian got off work, picked us up, packed a little, and drove to the edge of West Virginia where their friend Andrew (the hippie) lives. I was bugging more than slightly and kind of told Margaret that I wouldn’t go. I passed out on the couch, woke up in the morning realizing that I absolutely was going. Wow oh wow was that decision crucial.

It’s hard to say that three days can change your life, but they can. I mean, hell, some people hear a speech for a half hour and it changes them. But these three days in the woods; glorious green national forest woods, gave me time to ignore the pain involved in the journey and think and think and think.

We definitely used some substances- pretty much every kind substance imaginable along the way, and that is something I am grateful for because it strung my thoughts out of my brain more than they usually would be able to, I think. Which is saying a lot.

Before I start trying to journalize some of the thoughts and perhaps conclusions I came to on this Trip, I guess I should say who was with me.

So firstly,

• Margaret and
• Brian.

Then there was

• Andrew whos dad I believe died from Aids causing him to go slightly crazy. He went to Padagonia for a while and got very into nature and hiking, and did a whole program at Noles for outdoor survival stuff. Now he lives in West Virginia and goes on survival adventures all the time. Experiments with substances, and is an all around intelligent, hilarious character.
• Andrew II aka “Boss” is a half phillipino, half black chubbyish boy who really just reminds me of a boy. He lives in the world of movies and video games. Has a booming voice. Thought of him as food crazy and selfish until the last few hours of our adventure when I found out that he actually has quite a sad past and is dealing with death’s impact on him= depression. I hope he gets back on track and back to school.
• Steve the “manimal” the only one who didn’t G”J at all, lead the hike, at crazy speeds, and definitely drinks us all under the table. Looks sad when he’s not actually smiling. Grew up in West Virginia and is planning on moving to Alaska (though he’s never been there). He loves hiking.

High Hooks in Hook

We went down to visit The Grandparents in Boca and stayed in the condo. I got the best of both words, having a couple of days with the sibs, and a couple of days with the cousins. It’s hard seeing The Grandparents wither away into old, old, old. But at least we still have them.

We used some ganjah one night and watched Hook. Blame it on the G”J but I ended up with all these insights concerning Peter Pan and Hook, and scrabbled them down on The Gandparents remaining stationary.

Here goes…

• Peter Pan worked so hard to find his happy thought to fly and it ended up being his kids. This is ironic since if he hadn’t left Neverland kids would never in a million years have been the source of the flying power.
• the kid who started the fight seems menicing and ‘the bad guy’ but he was the one who knew Peter Pan’s one everlasting ’soft’ spot to get him revved up enough to imagine again. This soft spot was to get him fired up and fight.
• Hook’s kind of happiness that Pan was back was as if their universe and world would perish if there was a lack of the friction between good and evil. This is very interesting. Maybe this is what keeps the world moving on and on. A struggle between good and bad.
• The guy who gives in to Peter Pan’s return (that same menicing ‘bad guy’) is in a sense getting fucked over. He is willing to become the strong one when Pan leaves, but when Pan returns he’s willing to step aside. He ends up getting stabbed and “dies” (whatever that means in Neverland). This kind of shows that only the strong survive. You can’t be too much of a pushover.
• Peter Pan says “what do you want old man.” Hook replies “I want you.” This to me means that the essence of what older people want is their youth.
• Hook says “you took my hand, you owe me something” when Pan is turning victorious and taking his dignity. I find that interesting because it’s symbolic of youth resenting elders, but at the same time without the elder’s “hand” they’d never be there growing to begin with. It’s almost like a plea from Hook.
• And of course…”Death is the only adventure” is Hook’s attitude toward what’s going on. It is in a sense what we all feel.

The Sky & I.

Even the most self aware cannot always be in control of their entire selves. All I want to do lately is flip the switch back to my normal state of mind and being, but I cannot. As it darkens all around me in this storm, there is powerful sound tumbling above me with such vigor, that I am convinced it is more substantial than just sound waves rippling in the sky. It feels like night. And sometimes even if it’s day, even if it’s life, we all need a good cry. Even the sky.

Moments

There are moments on every date when day and night is blurred into one. So however different they are for the rest of time, there are those glimpses of their similarities. 

Penny Lane & Lady Goodman

It turns out most of the time I am on a merry-go-round of considering people friends, changing my mind who is real and sincere, and who are just friendlettes. Every once in a while I get to stop the merry-go-round and get reacquainted with those that are still there in the standstill. Tonight was like that. Lady texted me to come meet her at the club right when I was finished at the winery; at six o one o clock. My first thought was that Adam Duritz must have showed up. My second thought was that my dresses might have overstayed their welcome in her office. Wrong. In reality, all Lady was doing was telling me to come there because somehow she knew I needed to talk. And listen. She often says we are similar and most of those times I brush it away as a cutesy remark, but the fact is  she reads me like a silly letter book without any trouble at all. She knows so much more about myself and my ride on my roller coaster than I’d ever be able to know as of yet. And she knows all this from a seemingly side-staged, partial view, perspective. She sees me getting taken advantage of. She knows my self image distortion. She understands my decision/commitment making complex. She effing knows the Music World. And she’s a Sister so she gets the whole tradition backdrop. I have no idea how I got this lucky to have someone so astute care so much for me, and want me to be ok. But I do know that I’m lucky to have her.

Even in Death they Do Not Part

Rest In Peace Grandpa Sam. 1917-2009 is a blessed amount of time on this earth, but Grandma is still as in love with you as she was when she first saw you. She told me today that she was sorry that I didn’t get to say goodbye to you. And she told me that she hopes that one day when I get married I have as wonderful a marriage as she had with you. 

The cemetery is oddly beautiful and overwhelmingly full. There were even street signs in various areas of it. I was so worried while they were lowering you down that they’d mishandle the whole situation. I was holding Grandma up and my heart broke when I heard her saying “Don’t do that, don’t do that, don’t do that,” over and over in the most broken hushed voice as they lowered you into the earth. 

Grandma told me that even in your last few days when you knew nothing and noone at all, when you both lay in bed at night he still said “Debbie’la, are you doing alright? I love you. Sleep well.” This amazes me. This shows that true love can surpass any physical and mental limitations our bodies subject us to here. 

I am now learning about your life. I hope you find a way to keep Grandma at peace with the love between you. I know the phrase used in marriages is “Till death do us part,” but you and Grandma have a love that lives undeniably past just this life. And she needs to feel it for her time left remaining on this earth without you.

Dear Death,

You have overstayed your welcome.

I am definitely learning a lot of lessons from you, and in a way it’s ‘nice’ to meet you.

But seriously, this is getting a little too much, a little too fast.

I need some recess. 

Respectfully,

Max

6/25/09 Thoughts to Death

Last night I cried so many tears that I think they could fill a whole set of these larger than life mugs I’m drinking green tea in today.

It started with post-shift drinks with Corie. She and I went to get “cheap” drinks and apps. We wound up at an Italian place in the village and the end of this turned into me spending double the amount that I had come into the city to make. Why? because I have no balls to admit that I didn’t want to buy her dinner. And the real reason I didn’t want to buy her dinner is because I’m broke. So there I was rushing uptown on foot hyperventilating with noisy thoughts of the hole burning in my pocket. 

Michael Jackson died earlier last night too, so everywhere on the streets of NYC I heard snip-its of conversation with his name tucked in them. I walked all the way to Port Authority tearing up every once in a while with loads of thoughts running through my head. I am constantly somehow getting slightly taken advantage of. I have energy, people feed off of it, and I do love that but there always comes a time when I will get left in the dust. I don’t think it’s malicious of anyone I know in the scene, it’s just a byproduct of reality. 

So once I got to PA and found the gate for my bus, The Father was calling on my blackberry. He told me in a poised voice that he was sorry he had to be the bearer of bad news but his father’s condition had turned for the worse and it could be any hour or any day and he thought I should know. I immediately started tearing up and crying and he told me we had to just remain cool. Somehow the conversation turned into ‘about me’ and him trying to psychoanalyze what was troubling me. He understood my traveling bug and said that only good people have that need to soul-search. He said he’d rather me travel to Ireland and Scotland than India and New Zealand. He told me about how he traveled to Scotland and loved it. And I started thinking about how frightening it is that one of the people I think I despise most is actually the blood I might share most in common with.

In the Lap of Contentment

I can close my eyes on our porch and believe I’m in some exotic rainforest with birds chirping all around me. It’s as if all the birds of the world come through here for soundcheck before flying off to their shows. Not that I feel any need to be anywhere else but here right now. This house is lovely. We could spend all day sitting on this porch, allowing whatever weather it decides to be at the time to affect us in a positive way. We can enjoy the rain without getting wet, we can sit and sip cold lemonade while the sun shines down, and we’d even dare it to snow to witness it from here too. I am very content. Today I ran around outside and saw lots of pretty houses. I am trying to break my unhealthy obsession with working out indoors on machines, and get my body moving in a natural zone. Maybe that’s why NYSC doesn’t have a branch close enough to this house to make it worth my while to attend it while living here in Montclair. Funny how things work out…

Fruits of Trees

I’m looking for the apple of my eye. But it won’t do unless I’m the apple of their eye too. If we go with the apple theme for a minute, I’m an apple that has fallen very far from my tree. I wish some days that I was more like my family and that I had been able to just stick with what I was spoon-fed as a child and able to digest the beliefs I was administered with. But nature versus nurture has led me to collections of people, places, ideas, and experiences which have colored and shadowed everything I think about. I’ve been wondering lately if it really matters what makes us have certain opinions about things. People love holding flags and nurturing vendettas for and against some of the funniest subjects. A lot of it is simply the rage and inertia and peer pressure of a group and a community to acquaint oneself with. Yet when someone finds an agenda they are passionate about it can drive their entire life, because it becomes a value they place at the center of their life’s purpose. Regardless of what I believe in terms of religion and God and this world, I do think religion gives people a direction and a comfort path for getting through this life. Since so much is so uncertain and endless it is helpful to have a set of beliefs and directions and people to acquaint oneself with. Organized religion is the greatest example of such a community. But in this day and age it can be anything from being a Vegan, to Human Rights, to Scientology. Just a sense of purpose so drive a group.

So for now I’m just that apple rolling around, possibly getting bruised, chipped, but definitely traveling further from the tree. But the good thing about being a human fruit is that I can pick myself up at any point and direct myself back to a source if I decide. For now I’m just rolling with it, but I’m starting to think more and more that eventually people need to just commit to a set of ideals, and a lifestyle. Even if it’s just for a while.

Mournings lack Sunrises

It’s already June. This has been the hardest, most exhausting week of my life. I have had some little blessing doses intermittently but it has not been at all easy. I got to see Dave Matthews release his new CD in honor of Leroy at Beacons on Monday. This was an extraordinary show, however my emotional sentimentality definitely made appearances because of my grieving mindset. I couldn’t help thinking of my mourning sister during “Sister,” and of course “Funny the way it is,” was also a thud in my heart. DMB is not DMB for no reason though. Wow. The violinist and the drummer specifically struck me. I also think that the new saxophone player who joined them from Bela Fleck is amazing. It must be hard to take the place of someone who meant so much to every aspect of the DMB group.

It’s hard to be a caregiver to so many women grieving their father, brother, son, and husband. These Little Women are not in their right minds (understandably so) and each day the exhaustion was mounted higher and higher making me feel lower and lower. I really do get great satisfaction out of taking care of people but sometimes it’s hard. Like when I feel like people are using me to rag wash the floor of every room in every home in the world. Slight exaggeration perhaps, but seriously I feel like crap by now. I am happy for this intense grieving week to be over.

I am not really looking forward to a weekend of girls in the Hamptons; for some reason large groups of girls make me more apprehensive than most situations in the world, but I am looking forward to a weekend getaway.

I saw the house that Rosi and I will be living in this summer. It is epic, it is romantic, it is peaceful, and it is absolutely lovely. I hope it proves to be as wonderful as I know it can be. People might need to be involved to complete this equation, and I can only hope that the people I am thinking of show up and take their place.

What a Day….What a Life

What a day to be alive.

What a day to stretch out and appreciate not being confined underneath the earth without air. 

What a day to feel. 

What a beautiful Day. In fact…

What a beautiful day to face death. To have to face death. 

What a day for him to be gone with the wind.

What a day to see my big sister look like a little dolly, with her long hair clasped prettily half up in a barret, reaching her small frame up to hug my little brother. Cloaked in grief. 

What a day to finally see a little glimpse of what a man my brother in law really is.

What a day to feel such tense air all around me. 

What a day to escort a van with a casket with a body without life down a sunny road. 

What a day to waive goodbye. 

What a day to realize how little we knew about his life while he was alive. 

What a day for a Salute to a Country Parade.

What a day for a 100th year celebration for a bridge.

What a day for unstoppable tears. 

What a day for one man’s ex-wife to cling to  his new widow, both crying over his new lifelessness. 

What a day to realize that if my father was her stepfather while our mother was married to him…Well then.

What a day to realize that I had a Stepdaddy. 

What a day to realize that. On the day he is not any longer. 

What a Day. What a Life.

Epic

Dear Heart & Mind, quit playing games with each-other.

Maybe I’m not really Penny Lane. I might just be a big talker. I mean look at what’s going on right now. I have no idea where to put my foot to take a next step. I fooled myself over and over again, so by the second over I should have been onto myself, but now everything seems all twisted. I know I am restless; can’t fall into something that stays the same for too long, and I know that I love music. But I don’t love all music, and I don’t act well enough to make loving certain music my job. I don’t want to pretend I don’t play favorites. I totally play favorites, and it’s not even playing. I hate promotions. Blah Blah Blah everyone says everyone needs to stick what they’re working on down people’s throats in order to make it happen but I don’t want to be that girl.

It sucks really loving everything about musician’s and their lives, but not being one. Oh and a few words about beginnings. I think I suffer from a love of beginnings too. I romanticize what people and things and jobs might be, and then I get quickly disappointed by their reality and freak out and try to move on. 

My heart and mind are playing tag with each-other , leaving me out in confusion without plain sight. And when my thoughts are ‘it’ they  go Ring a Round the Rosi, with no resolution and come crashing down with ashes, ashes.

These Little Photographs

…The previous few posts of writing are slightly incoherent, poetic ones. I seem to think that these little photographs taken on my blackberry during the adventure compliment those posts. It is a neat way to wrap up the slightly too artsy to some way of documenting what I’ve been doing. And now I can go on to proper story telling and quality photos…

love In.

Love is pain. But the lack of it is excruciating. I am an expert in it, but have never experienced it. I am teased by tales and hand out advice and watch as love’s threads are woven in and out of all around me. This woven cloak of passion and despair is one I observe while I wait on the outskirts. Shivering and Alone.

Their Majesty

I’d love to be Alice or even one of the lost boys and get to live always in the sort of trees I saw that day. There is no kind of nature I love more, and considering the excruciating beauty I have been so lucky to behold over the past number of days…that’s quite a bold statement. Yet none the falser. There is so much mystery in the walls of the pungent bark. Nostalgia that isn’t even mine haunts me from deep within the wood and crevices. What these trees have witnessed over years and years and time is something I’d like to know. I wish I could sit and Smell and Feel it all in for longer. For then I’d be able to Listen to the whispered secrets these majestic trees might dare to share.

Eerie-tales

My life is an open book, and I did make that decision to fill it up with tales of wonderful life experience. However, sometimes I wonder how the plot lines turn up three degrees away from the foreshadowed themes. I am also very susceptible to the the power of suggestion; even and especially it’s self imposed. I can convince myself of almost anything and sometimes that means opinion-whiplash in hindsight. All of a sudden I see how those compliments were really not just comfort compliments. There is a lot more to them, and that makes me Bug. She thought I was her because I really like him.

Twisted & Twister

I don’t like thinking that everything happens for a reason. The neatly tied up box with a ribbon at the top form of life events is not something that makes a lot of cameos in my life. I asked one hundred times when the last night I could be here was, and I had a clean response of Saturday night. But then she decided to move the break the wall and take out the furniture day to 7 a.m. on Friday. 7 a.m. might have been forgivable somehow if I had not already nodded to houseguests. More people have air mattresses than I would have thought. And I lugged them in the monsoon downpours to the winery for them. (people are sometimes awesome- I’m starting to think these sort of people are what the word friend was intended for). 

The assholes decided to book hotel rooms instead. Rosi and I headed to a diner for an all american grilled cheese sandwich cut in triangles and all just like middle school. This was after she recorded in an all american superstar studio. ‘”I went down on him,” she said.’ and “Let’s go find some assholes.” were just two of the funny things she came up with that evening. 

See, assholes or not we both had anxiety at the same time for our boys in the sky. Our fears and mindsets are constantly colliding. It’s great stuff. 

So we went to find the boys in the west village for some drinks. Because no-one really is sober. And we got to laugh and try on different hats for a while. She kissed him and he kissed me and geometrical shapes are starting to encroach on our lives in the oddest forms.

Clear Channel

The weather refused to predict nothing but rain. However, the Billboard shoot took a few hours of sunshine. Literally and figuratively. I’m not just talking about the abundance of pizza and cupcakes. I am speaking of the absolute thrill I had watching the five cameras collaborating to shoot Rosi with the most beautiful direction. He was definitely insane and a mad scientist of sorts, but it was amazing to watch him at work and I understood what it was all about. The light, the shadows, the swooping, the timing with the music and the unexpected angles had me completely mesmerized. I practically skipped to work (an hour late) like a five year old little boy who had gotten to see the inside of a fire truck. And it turns out the producer was a lady named Chris and she tour managed a bunch of bands like The Strokes and I think even Bright Eyes, and I need to talk to her about it.

 

Bon Iver

Seasons are becoming inconsequential and irrelevant. I definitely got intense thrills from the few absolutely beautiful days we have had our way lately, but going from snow flurries to 90 degrees and then back to 45 degrees and cloudy all in the matter of a week in April is not what you would consider a typical Spring Season. Other things on a more theoretical season changing front are more consistent. People come and go and old tunes resurface to their place as favorites on an eye level shelf. She is dating him?! And he has put down the bottle. I finally got settled and now I have to move again. This is life…if things remained stable for too long I suppose it wouldn’t be nearly as exciting. So even in the blossoming of Spring, whether it’s a season of theoretical or practical proportions, in this day and age, it can still be appropriate to wish you a ‘Good Winter.’

Kitsch

It is definitely not October anymore. People always say that time passes faster and faster as you get older, and I believe whoever those people are. If you’re one of those people that has ever said that- I believe you.

Point is the holiday is over now, and leavened bread is once more the friend of all those who shunned it for eight days. I spent happy days reading nonstop. See, now instead of searching ways to escape the time I spend at home on holidays, I embrace it and do what I never allow myself to do in the normal crazy days of life. I read The Unbearable Lightness of Being and Middlesex. Both books were amazing just as she said they would be. I think it’s interesting that both books managed to speak of psychology, history, and politics all using a novel as the foundation. I also find it interesting that the word Kitsch made cameos more than once in each book. So here’s to Kitsch!

So yea…There is nothing wrong with just sitting and reading. And drinking lots of wine. Of course there is something off about drinking lots of wine if it’s to soothe the anger I felt a few moments for Mumsey. I am amused though by the way she sat not looking upset at all while I downed like 3 glasses in row, without stopping. (It’s definitely wrong to just drink wine down like that without even stopping to  pay the slightest bit of attention to the tastes). I’m officially moving (back) into the apartment with loads of stuff. But not loads and loads. I’ve already learned the lesson of bringing too much there, and I don’t need to learn it again. I can be mindful of what I really think I’ll want there. And I’ll draw the line there for now.

Considering Cleansing

• Lemons (60-100)
• Maple Syrup (grade B)
• Cayenne Pepper
• Herbal Laxatives
• Sea Salt

Take herbal laxative the night before you start. (tablet or tea). Must be taken every night (or the saltwater rinse) of the cleanse. Morning of Day 1 either take the herbal laxative again or use salt water bath. (2 teaspoons of non-iodized sea salt to one quart of warm water). Drink 6-12 glasses of Lemonade a day. 

Lemonade: 

• Place 2 tablespoons of freshly squeezed lemon juice into a glass
• Add 2 tablespoons of maple syrup
• Add 1/8 teaspoon of cayenne powder
• Fill the glass with 8 ounces of water