back from the dead

Photo by the ridiculously talented Carrie Thomas

I feel like I have risen from some sort of zombie state. There has been a lot going on that has weighed me down and put my in a place where I feel sort of vacant and disconnected from reality.

I didn't go home for Christmas this year, partially as a protest. If my parents didn't want both me and my boyfriend then they could have Christmas without me. I don't know how my decision would have been made had I realized that this would be the last family Christmas in the way that I have known them for so long.

My parents now live in separate houses. One would think that this would be a traumatic situation for an 8 year old and more easily handled by an adult, but it doesn't seem that way to me.

I spoke recently with the extremely talented Carrie Thomas, and she told me that she felt sorry for the children who thought their families were normal and then realized later that it had all been an illusion. She, having accepted that her family might not be up to par at a young age, felt it to be a softer blow.

I have never really had illusions that my family was perfect, but I guess I didn't really understand how fractured it was. My mother shielded me from a lot. She acted as a sort of ambassador for my father. He could not tell me that he loved me, so she would tell me that he did. She would tell me that he was proud of me. She balanced him in this amazing way.

My father is in a wheelchair. My mother is in a house by herself. There is so much pain, so much loss.

I cannot focus on this. Though I am doing my best to be supportive, I cannot let this swallow me. I have enough problems already with CNN telling me that the world is collapsing into sub-prime rubble. I can quite easily created my own private apocalypse without the help of others.

I choose however at this point in my life to watch the flowers bloom from the ashes, for the grass to grow where the mine fields once marred the landscape.

I believe in positive thinking to some extent. Perhaps I have forgotten to practice what I preach at times, but I do know this... There is so much beauty in this world, so much hope. I am surrounded by amazing people who I am blessed to have in this world. I have to choose every day when I wake up whether I want to focus on the dark underside of the clouds or the rays of sun shining through the breaks in them.

Yes, feel free to put me before a firing squad and shoot me for being guilty of cheesiness. I bare my chest for you.

Typhoid Mary would like to retract her statement

Last week, after a meal of Empanada's at the newly opened location for Empanada Joe's on 22nd street, I became very ill with what I thought for sure was food poisoning. I have discovered over the course of the last few days as those around me have fallen ill , condemned to a similar fate of toilet hugging, that I was too quick to conclude food poisoning to be the source of my harrowing experience.

It is rare that I remove a post from this blog. However, in this case, I feel it is necessary to prevent any unfair criticism of Empanada Joes. I afterall did enjoy the food that I had there and it was reasonably priced. It is important to be able to admit when one has made a mistake, and in this case I have concluded that I was wrong.
I whole heartedly apologize to the folks over at Empanada Joes and wish them all the best with their new location.

That being said, Please everyone be aware that there is a highly contagious virus that can be spread with very little physical contact. (see here) I rode the train with poor Carrie Thomas on Thursday and on Friday night, she found herself bowing to the porcelain god.

On Saturday evening, Konstantine also fell to his knees and bowed his head in the confessional known as Jason and Simon's bathroom.

I sign this post typhoid Mary, admittedly wrong...but ultimately just happy to eat solid food again.

Open Wide::Coney Island Film Festival

It is my pleasure to announce that the music video for Open Wide has been chosen as an official selection of The Coney Island Film Festival.

Thank you to Rob Martin, everyone at Bizarre F.A.R.M., The Gender Offenders, Brian Maschka, Marc Carpentier, Kim Levering, Carrie Thomas, and Laura Oltman.


The festival is September 28th-30th.
More details to come..

This Just In

Photo by my Thursday Platonic date? Carrie Thomas

Carrie Thomas is neither long nor lost.
However, she was last seen with this hot man.
Long? possibly, we've never asked.
Lost? in the embrace of Carrie Thomas perhaps.

On a side note, Carrie sends her hopes and prayers for poor Amy Winehouse, who many of you know left rehab to hit the pub and claw her man's face to a bloody pulp.

For Carrie Thomas

Last night I had the pleasure of spending some quality time with the lovely Ms Carrie Thomas, master photographer, writer and general renaissance woman. I had a healthy helping of bacon, one of the ten random things make me happy while she ate her usual buffalo wings. Oh, we are such creatures of habit.

Well, as per our conversation, Carrie, Here you go.

UPCOMING SHOWS!!!

My Water Just Broke

I have finished recording the album!!!

I feel proud of myself having written, performed, produced, and financed every track on the album. It really does feel like a piece of me and an accomplishment.

There were times when I didn't know what to do with songs, whether to keep them, rework them, or scrap them altogether. There are songs that didn't make the album. Something like 20 tracks were recorded in various forms in the process. B-Sides?

What I found most interesting when going through the tracks was that 4 of them including the title track hadn't even been written when I started recording the album.

(Sirens of Brooklyn, Follow Me Home, Fishnet Sailor and Before You go)

It felt so strange running the final mixes, to be commiting to something so final. I don't ever really consider anything final. It can always be reworked, improved, expanded or condensed.

Next up...mastering and artwork....
I've chosen photos from a selection of shots taken by the very talented Carrie Thomas.

Graphic design is being done by the Joe Velasquez who I worked with on the website.

I've been warned of post-pardom depression. I must keep myself busy and tend to the baby when it comes.

Now, I can feel the contractions taking over my body like convulsions...back to giving birth.

Photo Credit- Carrie Thomas

Return to Coney Island

I don't know what it is, but I can't seem to stay away from Coney Island. It holds so much magic and mystery.

Recently, Carrie and I returned to our beloved island to take some more pictures for the album as deadlines loom.

We paid a visit to our good mermaid friend and found a few new mermaids who were kind enough to lets us capture their images on film. Carrie sent me off to look for a pirate because the one I found was not handsome enough while she snapped shots of the horses on the carousel.

We walked out onto the piers and watched the men fishing, the fish flapping madly on the wooden planks begging to be thrown back into the water, gasping their last breaths of very dry air.

We both saw the rocks and the sirens called us towards them. Unfortunately we were greeted by a sign telling us that the rocks were off limits. I decided that this could not be, so I went to the lifeguard stand and spoke to the three lifeguards there asking them very kindly to let me use the rocks. They had no problem, but for some reason told me that I needed to take my clothes off if I wanted to have my picture taken there.

I did remove my tie and button down and sported my wife-beater(please don't be offended by this term used to describe a tank top style undershirt) If you've seen the show cops, then you know the origin of the phrase.

As carrie snapped shots, I noticed a woman sitting in the sand under a black umbrella. I had to have it, if only for a moment. As we took pictures, the lifeguards were yelling that I needed to remove another layer. There was no one swimming so their boredom had turned a bit pervie it seemed.

Carrie went over to ask the woman if we could steel some alone time with her umbrella and to our delight she obliged, though she told us that it was broken. Carrie worked her pixie fingers across the handle and the umbrella was miraculously repaired. She does have magic hands....ooh, John you are a lucky boy. haha :)

All in all, the Sirens of Brooklyn were with us today.

I made my prayers in the water fountain and made amends with an old friend.

Thank you Coney Island for giving us your kisses carried by the salty air.

Image used with the kind permission of photographer,Carrie Thomas

The Coney Island Tragedy

A cold wind blowing through Brooklyn today carried with it the smell of hotdogs.
If you listened hard enough you would also find that it carried the sounds of the craziest wooden rollercoaster ever.
The rollercoaster, in case you don't know, is called 'The Cyclone.'

At first site you wouldn't think it could scare your socks off, let alone your pants. Let me just say that it will take your shirt, your loose change, and quite possibly your soul.

I set out to ride this beast today with the lovely Carrie Thomas in tow. She brought her camera and we were also determined to take some glamour shots down on the pier. Unfortunately her camera battery suddenly went low and she couldn't continue shooting.

We went to two different stores in search of 3 volt batteries. I've never even seen a 3 volt battery, and I'm not quite convinced that they exist. The shopkeepers looked at us bewildered when we enquired about them. They too seemed not to have heard of these special batteries.

We decided to give up and head back to the boardwalk. I looked over at the cyclone to take in a voyeuristic glimpse at the people screaming and flailing. What I saw was quite shocking. Oh my god, quite shocking indeed. The coaster was stuck at the top of the first big climb and they were evacuating people and walking them down the tracks.

Carrie and I ran to get a closer look until we were standing under the great white beast gazing up as one by one the passengers of this doomed coaster ride were carefully taken down the tracks to safety. We are afterall ambulance chasers by nature. Carrie fussed with her camera trying to get a shot. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to get a picture of the woman in the hot pink jump suit that was two sizes too small, uneasily wobbling her way down, gravity and the crowd below just begging for a mis-step.

So, the tragedy at Coney Island is this.

We went to take photos. It didn't happen.
We went to ride the cyclone. It didn't happen.
The biggest tragedy of all is that it was Carrie's first time on the Island of Coney and she didn't get to have a hotdog. Instead she had to settle for a sad piece of pepperoni that the wind whipped into her face, covering her in grease and cheese. The even sadder part is that when I said goodbye to her, I think there was still a bit of sauce on her forehead and I didn't say anything.

Apparently I'm going to burn in hell.

Well, I often display a photo from the lovely Carrie Thomas, but this blog will remain without photo in memory of those who lost their ride on the cyclone.

SoHo, Chinatown, Brooklyn, Today

SOHO-Last evening I had drinks in SOHO with the lovely miss Kim Levering. It was such a beautiful evening so, we sat outside next to chattering French girls. Apparently we chose the intersection I now will think of as hotdog cart highway. Somewhere in the ballpark of ten hotdog carts passed by as we sat enjoying the perfect weather and disconnected conversation.
As we were sitting, we were approached by a small boy holding a piece of paper, followed by his father who was pushing a stroller. The very cute little boy handed the paper to kim who began to read... "I have 6 children to feed..."

Kim: You have 6 kids to feed? You're a little young to have 6 kids.

She reached into her pocketbook and pulled out a fistfull of change and handed it to the boy as the father looked on. It broke my heart to look at this little boy with his big brown eyes. I found myself filled with anger that I wanted to direct at the father. He was using his child to beg for him. He did not have the balls to beg himself. This poor child with his innocence, exploited by his father.

The little boy skipped over to the father, handed him the change, and then moved on to the next group of people on the street. The father followed, pushing the stroller. Coming down the block was a woman holding a child and pushing a stroller followed by twin girls wearing kicky red matching outfits. The twins like the boy were approaching people on the street with a similar note. The two scenes merged and there they were together, the two parents and the 6 children...strolling off into the sunset.

CHINATOWN-After our SoHo drinks, Kim and I walked down to chinatown, our hunger doing the steering. We passed the fishy smelling shops with unidentifiable sea creatures crawling around in their tanks and the crazy fruit carts parked outside with all kinds of fruit that look much like they were picked on mars and brought back to our planet for their exotic appeal. We settled at a Malaysian restaurant on Baxter street and shared a noodle dish.

Along comes a woman who looks about 80 wearing an outfit that can only be described as a Vietnamese rice picking uniform, hat and all. She is balancing bags on a broomstick over her back, which she is using to separate the different types of recyclables. Pure brilliance, she was. She looked as though she had worked hard all her life and that it would take a strong wind to ruffle her feathers. I don't know her, but I respect her. I also can't do this scene justice because it was more surreal than I can properly explain.

BROOKLYN

I ended my evening,hanging out with a group of friends, some of whom I haven't seen in quite a while. All in all it was a great day...gotta love New York :)

TODAY
This morning I chatted with my mother about everything and nothing including the fact that my grandmother is turning 85 this weekend.

I spoke with Carrie (Carrie Thomas, not my sister)about our weekend plans. She just updated her photos on her flickr site and I'm in love with this picture of the New York Skyline taken from a cab.

The lovely Carrie Thomas is a fellow Brooklynite and additionally she is a very talented writer, photographer, and Jacqueline of all trades. I think her photography really captures New York and the soul of her subjects and yet always has a sense of humor.

ooh... I was excited to discover this morning that Logo Online wrote a little snippet about the single. Yay! :)

Alone with 8 million

From time to time, generally though not exclusively with the changing of seasons, I feel blue and alone. There has been this weight in my chest for about a month now. It is the weight of undeniable and monumental loneliness.

During these "blue periods" I step back for a second and laugh. How is it that one can be sifting through a city crammed to the gills with people, 8.1 million to be fairly exact, and feel alone? I ride subway cars, sardined with business types in their finely pressed and starched suits, rushing to the important jobs that make the world keep on turning and churning. These people make the decisions to buy and sell and play chess with companies and people. If you make under $100,000 a year, consider yourself a pawn.

One thing about New York is that things are constantly shifting and changing. My favorite place to get a sandwich in NOLITA before it was even really called NOLITA by anyone other than realtors, bread and butter, is now a Cuban restaurant. My favorite German Pastry shop is god only knows what. I just know it closed. My very first gig was at a bar called "the rising", which is now a Mexican restaurant. My very first open mic was at a bar which is now a clothing store.

This change also applies to people. I think New York is a really hard city to forge and maintain lasting friendships. Someone can be your best friend one day and then the next day, they move to another neighborhood, still in the same city mind you, and you never hear from them again. I think of Astoria, well queens in general... It's like a foreign country to me. I never go there and I have no reason to do so.
Friends have moved to queens and have never been heard from again.

I guess at times I wish there were something I could hold onto like a rock, but although New York is built on Bedrock, it feels more like sand. The tide comes and goes and sweeps people away and brings them back or they get caught in the current and are lost forever.

I was having a beer with my friend, Carrie, the other day and ran into a group of friends. One of these friends has just acted weird towards me for almost a year now. This occasion was no different. I can't fully explain in words, but I had confronted him about how hurtful he was being. He is someone who I have valued so deeply. Well, all of the group said goodbye to me when they left, except for this friend. He went outside and acted as if I didn't exist. It cut me to the core. God, I am a stupid sensitive little creature.

I think this experience sent me face first into a puddle of blue. The one good thing I can say is that I do have a remedy for the seasonal blue periods. It's my guitar, black Swan. Last night we had a really in-depth conversation about the end of the summer and I ate Ecuadorian chicken and rice and contemplated buying a ford escort. So, I am not alone after-all with 8 million. I have black swan and fatty chicken and in the end, who could ask for anything more?



photo credit- Carrie Thomas