Meredith Monk- Churchyard Entertainment

I was recently at the apartment of Mr. Carpentier discussing all manner of things when he mentioned this woman, Meredith Monk whose work he had seen performed at Jacob's Pillow in the Berkshires. I have a fondness for the Berkshires, having visited there at the age of 13. Coming from Kansas at the time, it was like a cultural treasure chest.

Anyhoo, Meredith Monk is a musician, filmaker, dancer, choreographer, etc. etc.
I think there is such an amazing humor reflected in the piece below. It reminds me a bit of Monty Python, but is brilliant in its own right.

I present to you Churchyard Entertainment from Book of Days.



To explore Meredith's work further, you can visit her website:
meredithmonk.org

Expressing through art

I am by no means an artist in the aesthetic sense.
I draw stick figures and have horrible handwriting.
On Sunday K & I went over to Marc's to watch a marathon of Six Feet Under.
Claire, played by Lauren Ambrose was trying to draw a perfect circle as one
of her assignments for art school but ended up blowing off her work to bone
a slutty tattooed musician who she meets at a crematorium while delivering a person's ashes. Lauren frequents the restaurant where K works, so he has probably seen her more times in person than on television. I am told she is very sweet. Back to art. I was over at Beverly's listening to old vinyl on the record player. Her collection is amazing, some of it going back to the 1930's. Laura was there and had begun drawing on one side of a coffee mug with chalk. I felt compelled to pick up the chalk and release what I was feeling. This is the result. As, I said, I am not an artist. (excluding music)

Music Video Magic!

I stayed up late last night with Mr. Carpentier and K to watch the Premiere of Open Wide on Logo.
I stated in a previous blog that I don't usually get too excited about accomplishments. It helps me to avoid
a crash and burn following the sugar rush.

Well, Last night, sipping on champagne and watching the video air on national TV, broke through my calm unaffected status and turned me into a squeeling kid, running around with my hands above my head.

If you missed the video last night, I recommend you check it out at the most random location one could imagine my video being posted....
CMT's Website. Your eyes are not deceiving you. That does indeed stand for Country Music Television.

If CMT is not quite your taste,
VH1's website is always a viable option.

The world is full of magical possibilities and choices! Oooh, so the 2nd album is almost done. I go back into the studio on Tuesday for my last session before the studio closes its doors.

My thoughts are with Mr. Carpentier.
Today is the closing of a chapter and the beginning of another.
It is the cliched beauty of life.
Time for life #21. I will enjoy swinging along side you.

Taxi Fried Chicken, Fireworks, Ashes & Dust

Photo by Carrie Thomas

I am at my nature a juggler. I don't know that my form is enjoyable to watch. I don't have a fancy polka dot costume. None the less, I am constantly spinning plates on sticks while throwing fiery batons over my head.

The one thing I consistently drop in this constant juggling act, is adequate sleep. It is the first thing that is sacrificed for the greater good. Perhaps it is the reason for my sloppy form.

On Saturday I decided to fully embrace the world of slumber, sleeping into the early afternoon. Oddly the act of doing nothing makes me extremely hungry, so I decided to call up Mr. Carpentier for a bit of brunch. After brunch we went to the playground to swing on the swingsets of course, but the children were in full command. God forbid the children use the swings and deprive us of one of our few life pleasures. How selfish. We eventually did get to swing.

We were later joined by K and enjoyed a few beers. K had to rush to the city and Mr. C had to rush home to greet his visiting sister. My mind was fixated on fried chicken. They decided to share a cab and convinced me to go along for the ride with promises of friend chicken in my future. We were riding in the cab when we saw the heavenly lights of KFC in distance.

The next thing I know we are in a cab going through the KFC drivethrough. It was such a perfect ridiculous moment fit for my Hello Kitty Scented Diary. In case you have any curiousity, I ordered 6 legs extra Crispy. K was yelling at the crackly speaker. Of course they didn't understand him so they initially handed me wings and then finally gave me legs original recipe. I somehow managed to eat the legs despite the trauma.

K headed into the city and I hung out with Mr. C for a while watching a backlog of television shows he had DVR'd for us. Eventually, I left the warm bossom of Casa Carpentier and headed home.

I had ambitious plans of getting up super early to work on "Lullabye" which was to be recorded in the studio on Sunday. Instead I overslept, shoved free samples of pumpkin soup and crostini down my gullet as I wearily stumbled through an art fair that had set up camp on my block. I grabbed some coffee and trudged through the park. About halfway to the studio something started filling my head, a new song. By the time I got to the studio I had scrapped all plans of working on lullaby and began laying down the tracks for this mystery song that popped into my head. The working title is Ashes and Dust. It has a very spiritual quality to it and really sounds great and much more developed than such new songs generally do. I wasn't planning on giving birth while crossing the gowanus canal, but stranger things have happened.

After the studio, I headed to Mr Carpentier's for some more backlog of DVR'd television shows as I have been a delinquent social caller and he had been in Italy for a spell.

We were later joined by K and ordered Italian food. As soon as marc put down the phone there arose a clatter outside like none I've heard. I was sure that it was happening. The bombs were falling. Retribution had come. Our arrogant American asses were under attack. I started getting frantic until Marc said that it had to be fireworks. K was on my side saying the sound was too close and too loud to be fireworks. We did the smartest thing possible, which is to run outside and run toward the sound. It was indeed fireworks, being shot from a barge east of lower manhattan down by the seaport. The fireworks were amazing. I cannot properly describe them with words. It was the best fireworks show I've ever seen in my life, beautiful gold ripples and streams across the sky. There were blossoming flowers, starfish, willow trees. They were so close that it was like they were coming right at us and reflecting off the buildings of manhattan, the perfect backdrop. Why the hell were they shooting fireworks on October 14th? Is there some new holliday of which I'm unaware?

All I found on Wikipedia were the following, and none seem firework worthy.

* RC Saints - Pope Callistus I, Angadrisma
* Teachers' Day, or National Education Day in Poland
* French Republican Calendar - Navet (Turnip) Day, twenty-third day in the Month of Vendémiaire
* Chişinău's (Republic of Moldova's capital) - national holiday (known as "Hramul Oraşului" by locals).

Mr. Carpentier-Live

Missing K

Picture taken in Delaware while vacationing with Mr. Carpentier

Our schedules are so out of Wack that I feel like I barely see K anymore, and when I do I am at that place where I am fighting the urge to sleep, not because K isn't interesting but rather the fact that it is past midnight. There are rumors that this state of affairs is temporary, so I will cling to hope like a fatty clinging to her last strip of bacon....mmm...Bacon. There is a full package in the fridge. I can't wait to eat it.

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..

A little bit about Mr. Carpentier

Yesterday, I posted the lyrics to Mr. Carpentier.
Mr. Carpentier is a new song to be released on the unplug single in the fall.


When I released Sirens of Brooklyn, I felt extraordinarily empty. Instead of feeling this great sense of accomplishment or empowerment, I felt defeated and drained. I had been functioning for a year with very little sleep, which continued for a year after that. It is only recently that I have slowed down a little to regain my grounding.

During this period, just after the release of my album, there is one person who was a huge support for me. He is my best friend in this world and an incredible individual full of compassion, love and respect for humanity, art and nature on a level that I have never encountered.

Marc Carpentier has been one of the most selfless people in my life. He has unconditionally loved and supported me. For a while I lived on his sofa. He didn't ask me for anything. He didn't pressure me to leave. He opened his home to me with no conditions, allowing me to pursue my art.

I am not sure that I would be here today, if it were not for this incredible man, and I can't wait to share this song with you all.

Mr. Carpentier-Lyrics

Mr. Carpentier, guru extraordinaire
open your heart to the masses.
You have lived 20 lives.
I could be satisfied
watching the world through your glasses.
Mr. Carpentier, I have so much to learn.
why don't you come here and teach me.
needless to say, I've been slipping away
to a place where nobody can reach me.

Cuz I don't know if I was made for this world.
They point and they stare.
Am I dressed like a 12 year old girl?
You smile like a child and I'm just squirming in my own skin.
You take me through the soccerfield to the swingsets once again.

We go through the motions like fish in the oceans
and paint the town red with the blood of the dead
We're all pretending the world isn't ending
and everything's fine as we shop and we dine
but we're fat and we're free
and we're taking up space
drive our SUV's while we're stuffing our faces.
Our children are spoiled and addicted to oil
and they buy lots of plastic
and they throw it away.

I don't know if I can make it through this day.
The ocean's too high
and the sky is too gray.
It's the weight of the world
and gravity's finally sinking in.
Take me through the soccerfield to the swing-set's once again.

Well, I drink like a fish and I hit like a girl
and I'm scared of myself and I hide from the world
but your heart's like a whale
and you're built like a tank
and you keep me alive
and I'd like to thank you cuz

There were times I couldn't make it through my day
when I lost my shit and they shoulda carted me away
but you're always there
you care
and you believe in what I do

take me through the soccerfield to the swingsets
just me and you

Let's swing high
Let's swing high
so high we touch the sky

(available fall 2007- Unplug(single))

From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much to everyone who has been requesting Fishnet Sailor.

A very special thanks goes out to Mr. Carpentier.

"Your heart's like a whale
and you're built like a tank.
You keep me alive, and I'd like to thank you.
cuz there were times I couldn't make it through my day
when I lost my shit and they should have carted me away,
but you're always there, you care and you believe in what I do.
I wanna go through the soccer field to the swingsets, just me and you.

Let's swing high.
Let's swing high
Let's swing high
so high we touch the sky."

-excerpt from the song, Mr. Carpentier (coming soon...)

70% Shot, 30% Done

I only have 2 hands, when I really need 20.
My nerves are about 70% shot. I am only one person trying to do the work of 10 people and not lose my mind. I feel lied to and cheated of my money. What little money I make goes back into my music. It is like a child that never stops crying to be fed. I am a sleepless parent, pacing with bloodshot eyes wondering when this baby will tire itself out and go to sleep. When will I tire myself out and fall asleep? Will I just suddenly collapse, the result of months without sleeping? I am restless. I am stretched thin. I am lonely and loveless. I am overwhelmed by the state of the world, the state of my room and the statements that dripple out of my mouth like inappropriate spittle.

I went into the studio this weekend and worked on two songs, Mr. Carpentier and Flapjacks.
Mr. Carpentier is very very close to being done. At this point, it is nit picking. Flapjacks still has a bit of work, but should be close to completion soon. I would say that the album is about 30% done.

In other news, my first music video will be filming in the next couple of weeks.

This album,this video, this world is bigger than me, and it may just crush me.

Connecticut and other Near Death Experiences

Saturday I did a show in Connecticut at a sweet little space called Jitters. I addictively sipped peppermint tea throughout the night and did two sets followed by a third short set. If you notice on the setlist, I played flapjacks twice, breaking a sacred rule of not repeating the same song in the same venue on the same night. However, to defend myself, Flapjacks was such a big hit with the people of Jitters...and when people start throwing their panties and screaming for flapjacks, I heat up the griddle like any good cook in the kitchen. It was also the owner of the venue, a sweet woman named Shirley who requested the song. Now how could I refuse? Thank You Shirley for having us. Thank you, Mr. Carpentier for driving me to the show and as always for being the best friend I could ever ask for.

I tip the biggest of hats To Mr McWiggens Chesteraurther III(Chris) for coming all the way down from Vermont to do the pyrotechnics(sound). Once again, to the woman in the red dress. I am really sorry for setting your poodle on fire during the Acoustic Black Sabath tribute.

After the show, we decided to drop by a local bar for a post performance drink. Though the loud hiphop and unfriendly stares initially had me on edge, I thought I would try to just blend in and relax as best I could. I am very white, by the way. I'm like one step away from being an albino.

I hadn't even taken 3 sips when a bar brawl broke out. You know it's bad news when there is a girl on her back on the floor and there are fists flying. I thought people were going to pull out guns. The fight kept shifting around the bar so that we couldn't find a clear path to the exit. I wondered if this was really it? "Oh Jesus, please please please. don't let them pop a cap in my ass."
Would I die in Connecticut? Luckily, we were able to escape.

It is rather funny that people perceive New York as being a dangerous place. The perception of Connecticut is that of someplace more wooded and quiet with chirping birds and cute little farms. Oh Connecticut, with your underbelly of violence, I applaud you for flashing my life before my eyes. Who knew I would one day breath easy arriving in the safety of Brooklyn?

French Saturday, Chinese Sunday

Photo by Carrie Thomas

For some odd reason, my weekend was very thematic as though a sorority girl had planned out a list of activities. Maybe tonight is hula night and tomorrow is a 50's themed poodle skirt mixer. Who knows at this point?

Saturday was my French themed adventure with the lovely Mr. Carpentier. We started the evening by dropping my Chez Brigitte for some homecooked French comfort food just like grandma used to make, or at least Mr. M's grandma. My grandma is more of a batter-it-and-fry-it kind of a girl.

The food hit the spot and I give this hidden dining gem 41/2 stars or two thumbs up, depending on your choice of rating system.

After our din din, we scooted uptown to see Hannibal Rising at a theater on 34th street. Interestingly enough, the majority of the movie was set in Paris. We were joined by mister Jimminy Cricket, as my ex-roomate, the Finnish Wonder used to call him. We decided to have a post movie drink at Barracuda, but it was too crowded, so we decided to visit Xes. Once again, the strange French theme continued as they were showing the making of some calendar with French Rugby players on the video screen. I was both horrified and transfixed.

Livers saturated, We all hopped in a cab back to Mr. M's lovely abode, where we decided to watch The Triplets of Belleville, one of my favorite movies of all time, animated or otherwise. I had brought it over for Mr. M to watch and had forgotten it in his DVD player. Coincidence, or just another part of French Saturday, pre-ordained by fate and the mysterious workings of the universe?
I fell asleep watching the triplets and woke to the sound of my phone alarm playing this horribly annoying Chinese Song and kicking off Chinese Sunday. I had a bus to catch.

I was running behind and running through Chinatown as chinese new year seemed to be exploding all around me. The ground was cold and littered with confetti. Small children were throwing small fireworks with small hands. A general jovial jubilation was sweeping through chinatown as I shoved and inched my way ever closer to the Fung Wah Bus. This bus, for those of you that don't know is a $15 each way bat out of hell ride between Boston and New York.

You clench your clawed hand to the railing and watch the space time continuum being bent like a prezel and just pray you make it to your destination in one piece.

For some reason, the Fung Wah bus was not what I had pictured in my head. I had imagined live chickens in cages. In fact there were no chickens, and I was quite disappointed.

I got to Boston in one piece, meeting up with Ryan, Erika's Bass player. We navigated the train system to cambrige and dropped all our gear at All-Asia before leaving to grab a cup of coffee. It was good to have a bit of downtime before the show and it gave me a chance to try and fix my bed-hed which was at its all-time cracked-out high thanks to the Fung Wah trip and having rushed to the bus without time to shower.

Sunday evening, I performed at All-Asia Cafe in Cambridge Mass. The show went very well despite a late start due to some sound issues we had to work out. Once we got the show on the road, though, the evening was a delight.
I want to give a very big and warm thank you to George who brought boyfriend and girl friend in tow.
It was a pleasure to meet all three of you and to hang out after the show. Thank you for the beer and the food and the cab back to the bus.
All of your words and genuine enthusiasm for my music mean a great deal to me.

It has been difficult for me lately as I trudge forward with a strong sense of purpose and and an ever-growing weariness. You made me smile and realize that though things have been feeling a bit daunting and up-hill, I am doing what I need to be doing and there are kind, warm people listening. Thank You.

I caught the 11:30 Fung Wah bus back to NYC, arriving at 3:30 in the morning, exhausted but ultimately really happy, feeling that the trip to Cambridge had been a good show and a much needed though temporary escape from the city.

For those of you who weren't able to make it, below is the set list.



Set List for All Asia in Cambridge
(almost in the order played)

1. Walking Song
2. Sirens of Brooklyn
3. Lemon Scented
4. God in the Telephone Book(unreleased)
5. Follow
6. Follow me Home
7. Mr. Carpentier(unreleased)
8. Life Was Simple(unreleased)
9. Before You Go
10. Flapjacks(unreleased)
11. This 2 Shall Pass

Due to a late start and my incessant banter, Marlboro Man, Down So Low(unreleased), Throw That Box(unreleased), and the Siren(unreleased) were intended to be played but cut from the list.

Swing High

Saturday was marked by record breaking January temperatures in the 70's. As people wandered the streets lapping up ice cream cones and strolling the avenues in shorts and tanktops, I rushed to the train station bound for battery park city to meet the amazing Mr. Carpentier.

We after-all had a date with a swingset. You are never too old to plop your ass down on a rubber seat, grab hold of the chains and reach for the sky. The feeling of the air rushing against my face as we swung higher and higher, let me know that I am still alive. Sometimes, I become too bogged down in the mechanical aspects of my existence to really just enjoy the fact that my heart beats and my lungs push the air in and out. I worry too much. I fret. I overthink and overboil my blood in a firey kettle of self-induced neurotic hell-fire.

The sunset on the water was a feast for the eyes. The children laughing and playing took me back to a time when the world made so much more sense, something it lacks for me these days. I enjoyed the unseasonably warm winter's day able to forget for a moment that a chunk of the arctic ice shelf the size of 11,000 football fields broke loose and is drifting south....able to forget that the gulf stream is slowing and that Europe is bracing for the coming ice age. It's all happening faster than we think.

Sometimes, it nice to just close your eyes and feel the wind on your face and swing high.....so high we touch the sky.

Mr. Carpentier

I am pleased to announce that instead of going into a post-turkey coma, I finished a new song, Mr. Carpentier.
I am super excited about this little tune as it is inspired by an amazing friend.

I will be introducing it to the world at my next show on Dec. 7th.

Lightning and Unicycles

Last night I had trouble falling asleep.

I was restless.


I decided to climb up onto the roof with my guitar and watch the lightning. Yes, I know, this doesn't sound like the brightest idea. I made an assessment of surrounding building heights and decided that the risk was acceptable.

There's something serene for me about Brooklyn rooftops after midnight. There is a peace that I can't explain. I am able to look out over the city and take in all of my thoughts with a clarity that I can't seem to find on the street level, with my feet planted on the ground and the daylight punishing my concentration.

I had my moleskine notebook with me in case some flash of lyrical inspiration struck before the lighting had a chance. Remember when we wrote things on paper? Before you became an addict of the digital world, I think you felt more fulfilled.
Text messages, email, phone calls, myspace, instant messenger...
Now that you have all these ways to get in touch with everyone, Do you feel more connected? If you stick your finger in a USB port, will you explode with the tingle of love?

Enough digital age philosophy...

So, My bicycle, oh god. I had it chained up in front of my friend Marc's apartment. I went by to say hi and he proudly boasted "I've been keeping an eye on your bicycle for you."

He pointed to a bike in front of us that I had never seen in my life. I said "well, Thanks a lot, but that's my bicycle." I turned around to point my finger at a bicycle with a missing back tire that looked like it had been the victim of a hate crime. I burst into laughter. It was too funny. I suppose I should have been devastated, but hey, what could I really do about it at that point? I must find the time this week to buy a new back tire. ugh.

Photo Credit--Carrie Thomas