Musaic Musings http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm Wed, 11 May 2011 00:00:00 GMT http://bandzoogle.com Lost in "LOST" http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=962042 In August of last year, my husband Mark and I pulled the first season of the TV show “Lost” off our DVD shelf. It had entered our lives via Ashley  --  a sweet, but unreliable babysitter we’d had a few summers ago  --  who thought we might like it and had brought it over for us to check out.   The set of DVDs became marooned on our media bookcase when she inexplicably stopped coming (and answering texts) one day. So, with our three-year-old asleep (and both of us surprisingly still awake and alert one late summer night), we launched into the world of Lost.  (Let me note for the record here that, yes, I know we are behind the times and most of the world was into Lost for the last several years.   We were apparently TiVoblivious; before starting to watch it, Mark and I both were under the impression that Lost was some kind of reality show.) We’d heard it was a well-done series, but had no idea it would be as engrossing and addictive as it turned out to be.  The characters and their world came to life as we devoured each episode, often two or three at a time.   I found myself thinking about the show as I went about my daily tasks, wondering at the wackier supernatural aspects of the plot and trying to weave together clues from different episodes in order to guess what was really going on with the ever more-complex plotlines.   We found ourselves keeping our obsession with the show private.   It was too risky to mention socially, lest someone spoil the ending for us and wreck our delicious evening ritual. The end came, as it does.  We watched the final episode last week, and though it was fairly satisfying, I feel empty, as if part of me is missing. And this is why stories matter. When we allow ourselves to be drawn into a good story, there’s a type of surrender that takes place.   Like falling asleep or falling in love, we suspend practical concerns and fall into another world, where different things happen and different characters ask us to understand new points of view.    When stories drift into the fantastic or a medium is limited, there’s a term -- suspension of disbelief -- for the leap that we’re asked to take in order to fully immerse ourselves in a narrative experience. I believe it’s this suspension of disbelief that moves us to write and read and lose ourselves in great stories. Children are champs at losing themselves in fantasy.  They play-act all the time -- pretending and imagining are a natural part of their daily reality.   I listen to our daughter Daisy as she plays with her mermaid Barbies and beloved stuffed “froggies,” hearing echoes of our real life interwoven with increasingly fantastic plots and dialogues.   She’ll circle around the same topic a number of times when trying to understand a new concept or work something out. Teens are often admonished for forays into fantasy.  We’re pulled -- kicking and screaming -- from the rich, dramatic narratives of music, complex video games, gossip, and young love.  Instead, we’re ordered to get our heads out of the clouds, return to earth, buckle down and get serious.   Most of us heed this sensible advice eventually, and in the process, discard one of our most instinctual methods of sorting out life’s puzzle pieces. And so by the time most of us reach adulthood, our fantasy/imaginative lives have been stripped to exercises of the ego or libido.  We look for drama in our friendships and marriages -- sometimes finding it when it isn’t even there -- and create narratives about the rhythms in our workplace or neighborhood stops. But the lucky ones among us regularly find rich escape each time we allow ourselves to suspend belief and fall into a story.   We travel across time and place, we meet new people, we inhabit the minds of animals or inanimate objects. We see ourselves in characters, we recognize similar dynamics in their lives, we note the paths they take in trying to resolve conflict and find love and fortune.  Story serves as the surrogate for the playful parts of imagination that drift from us as we get older and ‘wiser.’ Today I reach out across the worlds of all the characters with whom I have laughed and cried, winced and willed great things.   For those I’ve been lucky enough to have loved, and grieved in this odd way, I thank all the authors and the inspiration and the discipline and energy that brings them to life.   I am forever grateful to you for the hours of escape, excitement, and adventure. Here’s to getting Lost, over and over again.
So, with our three-year-old asleep (and both of us surprisingly still awake and alert one late summer night), we launched into the world of Lost.  (Let me note for the record here that, yes, I know we are behind the times and most of the world was into Lost for the last several years.   We were apparently TiVoblivious; before starting to watch it, Mark and I both were under the impression that Lost was some kind of reality show.)

We’d heard it was a well-done series, but had no idea it would be as engrossing and addictive as it turned out to be.  The characters and their world came to life as we devoured each episode, often two or three at a time.   I found myself thinking about the show as I went about my daily tasks, wondering at the wackier supernatural aspects of the plot and trying to weave together clues from different episodes in order to guess what was really going on with the ever more-complex plotlines.
 
We found ourselves keeping our obsession with the show private.   It was too risky to mention socially, lest someone spoil the ending for us and wreck our delicious evening ritual.

The end came, as it does.  We watched the final episode last week, and though it was fairly satisfying, I feel empty, as if part of me is missing.

And this is why stories matter.

When we allow ourselves to be drawn into a good story, there’s a type of surrender that takes place.   Like falling asleep or falling in love, we suspend practical concerns and fall into another world, where different things happen and different characters ask us to understand new points of view.    When stories drift into the fantastic or a medium is limited, there’s a term -- suspension of disbelief -- for the leap that we’re asked to take in order to fully immerse ourselves in a narrative experience.

I believe it’s this suspension of disbelief that moves us to write and read and lose ourselves in great stories.

Children are champs at losing themselves in fantasy.  They play-act all the time -- pretending and imagining are a natural part of their daily reality.   I listen to our daughter Daisy as she plays with her mermaid Barbies and beloved stuffed “froggies,” hearing echoes of our real life interwoven with increasingly fantastic plots and dialogues.   She’ll circle around the same topic a number of times when trying to understand a new concept or work something out.

Teens are often admonished for forays into fantasy.  We’re pulled -- kicking and screaming -- from the rich, dramatic narratives of music, complex video games, gossip, and young love.  Instead, we’re ordered to get our heads out of the clouds, return to earth, buckle down and get serious.   Most of us heed this sensible advice eventually, and in the process, discard one of our most instinctual methods of sorting out life’s puzzle pieces.

And so by the time most of us reach adulthood, our fantasy/imaginative lives have been stripped to exercises of the ego or libido.  We look for drama in our friendships and marriages -- sometimes finding it when it isn’t even there -- and create narratives about the rhythms in our workplace or neighborhood stops.

But the lucky ones among us regularly find rich escape each time we allow ourselves to suspend belief and fall into a story.   We travel across time and place, we meet new people, we inhabit the minds of animals or inanimate objects. We see ourselves in characters, we recognize similar dynamics in their lives, we note the paths they take in trying to resolve conflict and find love and fortune.  Story serves as the surrogate for the playful parts of imagination that drift from us as we get older and ‘wiser.’

Today I reach out across the worlds of all the characters with whom I have laughed and cried, winced and willed great things.   For those I’ve been lucky enough to have loved, and grieved in this odd way, I thank all the authors and the inspiration and the discipline and energy that brings them to life.   I am forever grateful to you for the hours of escape, excitement, and adventure.

Here’s to getting Lost, over and over again.]]> Wed, 11 May 2011 00:00:00 GMT 43926E6EA0C5D963E70709422811FFF3 The Agony and Ecstasy of Durable Creating http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=836135 Daisy and I have been drawing pictures on the iPad before she goes to bed at night. She loves to turn off all the lights and set the background to black on the Fingerpaint app, so the bright lines of our drawings are the only illumination in the room. My mind wanders as we make our digital fingerpaintings. Isn’t this amazing? Isn’t it wild, how the tips of our fingers can create an image as they glide across the sensitive screen? Could we have imagined even a few years ago how easily we might save, send, or manipulate our work with a click of a setting or a single touch? And then it goes further. How is this technological ease changing art? How might it be changing the process of creating? *** *** *** When I first experienced the magic of ProTools and Finale (popular musical recording and notation software) in a music studio, I became inspired by the idea of how prolific the old musical masters might have been with the speed and ease of our modern recording tools. How many more symphonies might have been composed? How many more sonatas created, if the time- and labor-intensive process of painstakingly hand-written notation could have been circumvented with these incredible programs? I extrapolated. Not to suggest that I’m in the same category as the musical masters or anything, but if I had use of these at home, surely I’d be much more productive, too, right? How fortunate I am to live in an era where I can go buy, say, a Fostex 8-track recorder, or an MBox, or a laptop computer with GarageBand on it, and get right down to crankin’ out music to the best of my ability, right? Oh wait. Oh yeah. I did buy all those things. And I barely figured out how to use any of them. They didn’t make it easier or faster to write great music. If anything, they sat perched on the gear bench near my piano with a vaguely accusatory energy, making me feel like a loser that I wasn’t using them to write more often. And when a song did appear, it tended NOT to arrive when I was poised and ready, perfectly plugged in at the keyboard. It came while I was driving. Or working out. Or folding laundry. Inspiration has a persistent habit of showing up whenever it damn well pleases. And for whatever reason – maybe it’s a test of will, dedication – it seems to come at markedly inconvenient times. *** *** *** Several times I’ve come across an interesting suggestion as to the distinction between spiritual and physical creating. It asserts that in the spiritual realm, things can be created instantaneously, effortlessly, but they don’t last. . . like cloud forms or sand drawings, creations dissipate almost as quickly as they are conjured up. The earthly realm, in contrast, is a much harder and slower place to make things, but here they last a very long time. So before and after our lives, as we float in whatever existence that may be, we are teased by the possibility of durable creating. It’s this desire for lasting effect that then inspires us to be born into these artist bodies and to create things. It’s this faint, vague memory of our mission that drives us forward through the difficult moments. I think about this too, in our iPad drawing sessions. Technology has made it easy to capture compelling images on our phones, to record songs in our bedrooms, to sculpt in SketchUp. In many ways, technology has allowed our reach to exceed the grasp of our skills or forethought. We are able to avoid investing money and time into the supplies and services that used to be required – the film, darkroom chemicals, recording engineer, materials – to merely try something. So, with less risk, we fling things around and see what sticks. We play – and in our play, sometimes come up with great stuff. The hows of process fade as we are able to skip to the final product more quickly and independently. We may create a kick-ass work, but have little idea of how we got it that way. I like the joy, the serendipity of creating without boundaries (perhaps with flashbacks to some spiritual type of creating), but it’s made me impatient. Crafting a song with care and thought feels harder, slower, lately. I find myself wondering how I might produce it with certain rhythm loops or backing vocals to gear it toward a specific music market, before the song is even finished. If a song doesn’t feel like it’s coming together right away, I feel more willing to abandon it. I’m working on shifting. When everything feels like an effort, I’m trying to remember to ask:  What feels easy? What sounds good? Where might my desire be leading me to something better, if I’d only let it? *** *** *** Notes to myself: 1. Remember that there is a value in the fruits of struggle as much as in the swift, easy gifts of grace.  Even if you don’t know yet what it is. 2. Have fun with the toys, but don’t put off creating because you don’t have a certain one yet.   It may not make a big difference in your process.  Or a tiny little difference. 3. Consider that the plodding, hardest, slowest part of a project might be the part that ensures it will endure. 4. Be happy when you get lucky. (And be brave and persistent if you decide to figure out why.) 5. There is no substitute, no technological shortcut, for solid skillful work, for technique, for pure muscle-memory saving your ass when everything else falls apart.   In an opportune moment, your years of practice and discipline will show up for you in ways for which you will be incredibly thankful. Daisy and I have been drawing pictures on the iPad before she goes to bed at night. She loves to turn off all the lights and set the background to black on the Fingerpaint app, so the bright lines of our drawings are the only illumination in the room. My mind wanders as we make our digital fingerpaintings. Isn’t this amazing? Isn’t it wild, how the tips of our fingers can create an image as they glide across the sensitive screen? Could we have imagined even a few years ago how easily we might save, send, or manipulate our work with a click of a setting or a single touch?

And then it goes further. How is this technological ease changing art? How might it be changing the process of creating?

*** *** ***
When I first experienced the magic of ProTools and Finale (popular musical recording and notation software) in a music studio, I became inspired by the idea of how prolific the old musical masters might have been with the speed and ease of our modern recording tools. How many more symphonies might have been composed? How many more sonatas created, if the time- and labor-intensive process of painstakingly hand-written notation could have been circumvented with these incredible programs?

I extrapolated. Not to suggest that I’m in the same category as the musical masters or anything, but if I had use of these at home, surely I’d be much more productive, too, right? How fortunate I am to live in an era where I can go buy, say, a Fostex 8-track recorder, or an MBox, or a laptop computer with GarageBand on it, and get right down to crankin’ out music to the best of my ability, right?

Oh wait. Oh yeah. I did buy all those things. And I barely figured out how to use any of them. They didn’t make it easier or faster to write great music. If anything, they sat perched on the gear bench near my piano with a vaguely accusatory energy, making me feel like a loser that I wasn’t using them to write more often. And when a song did appear, it tended NOT to arrive when I was poised and ready, perfectly plugged in at the keyboard. It came while I was driving. Or working out. Or folding laundry. Inspiration has a persistent habit of showing up whenever it damn well pleases. And for whatever reason – maybe it’s a test of will, dedication – it seems to come at markedly inconvenient times.
*** *** ***

Several times I’ve come across an interesting suggestion as to the distinction between spiritual and physical creating. It asserts that in the spiritual realm, things can be created instantaneously, effortlessly, but they don’t last. . . like cloud forms or sand drawings, creations dissipate almost as quickly as they are conjured up. The earthly realm, in contrast, is a much harder and slower place to make things, but here they last a very long time. So before and after our lives, as we float in whatever existence that may be, we are teased by the possibility of durable creating. It’s this desire for lasting effect that then inspires us to be born into these artist bodies and to create things. It’s this faint, vague memory of our mission that drives us forward through the difficult moments.

I think about this too, in our iPad drawing sessions. Technology has made it easy to capture compelling images on our phones, to record songs in our bedrooms, to sculpt in SketchUp. In many ways, technology has allowed our reach to exceed the grasp of our skills or forethought. We are able to avoid investing money and time into the supplies and services that used to be required – the film, darkroom chemicals, recording engineer, materials – to merely try something. So, with less risk, we fling things around and see what sticks. We play – and in our play, sometimes come up with great stuff. The hows of process fade as we are able to skip to the final product more quickly and independently. We may create a kick-ass work, but have little idea of how we got it that way.

I like the joy, the serendipity of creating without boundaries (perhaps with flashbacks to some spiritual type of creating), but it’s made me impatient. Crafting a song with care and thought feels harder, slower, lately. I find myself wondering how I might produce it with certain rhythm loops or backing vocals to gear it toward a specific music market, before the song is even finished. If a song doesn’t feel like it’s coming together right away, I feel more willing to abandon it.

I’m working on shifting. When everything feels like an effort, I’m trying to remember to ask:  What feels easy? What sounds good? Where might my desire be leading me to something better, if I’d only let it?

*** *** ***

Notes to myself:

1. Remember that there is a value in the fruits of struggle as much as in the swift, easy gifts of grace.  Even if you don’t know yet what it is.

2. Have fun with the toys, but don’t put off creating because you don’t have a certain one yet.   It may not make a big difference in your process.  Or a tiny little difference.

3. Consider that the plodding, hardest, slowest part of a project might be the part that ensures it will endure.

4. Be happy when you get lucky. (And be brave and persistent if you decide to figure out why.)

5. There is no substitute, no technological shortcut, for solid skillful work, for technique, for pure muscle-memory saving your ass when everything else falls apart.   In an opportune moment, your years of practice and discipline will show up for you in ways for which you will be incredibly thankful.]]> Wed, 16 Mar 2011 21:15:00 GMT 86AE5764082AEEE5E20252F799F8DD62 Confession: CHAOS http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=696698 My life is a mess.   Okay.  I've said it.   Is a music/creativity blog the right place to let this spill out?  I'm not sure.  But the theme here is "Art, Passion, and Purpose," all of which are being heavily affected by the current tornado-like state of my life.   Ohhh honey.  There's a big old mess going on.   Environmentally, mentally, emotionally, physically. . . everywhere I look, there is STUFF needing action, consideration, resolution.  It's like a paper monster has thrown up all over my life, leaving an angry trail of notes, receipts, crumpled-up kleenexes, grocery lists, prescriptions, Sundance tickets.  And then a machine akin to a tennis ball shooter follows right behind, haphazardly tossing toddler toys, plastic containers for recycling, stray potpourri pinecones, damp mittens, and half-coiled chargers for our many personal electronics.  I feel like I can't think straight;  even ideas and thoughts feel half-done, fragmented.  My digital life is neglected. . . I haven't posted on this blog in a ridiculously long time.  I'm tired, but can't sleep because of the backup of concerns, tasks, and ideas lined up in my head like planes on a runway.  I've had a cold for months, which has lately morphed into a post-nasal drip stage that tickles me into nightly coughing fits and begs me to keep my breathing shallow.   In a fairly miraculous twist, relationships seem good.  I think.  Maybe they'd be even better after a major clearing and streamlining.   I know I'd be able to give them more thoughtful, undivided attention.  I'm certainly not doing that now.  'Cause the rest of my life feels like it's gone through a blender.   What. The. Hell. Is. Going. ON?? Why is there so much CHAOS?   Like Elizabeth Gilbert in "Eat  Pray Love," I wonder (paraphrasing here) if it's all stemming from a certain influence.   Is it hormonal?   Thyroidal?   Economic?  Chemical? Astrological?  Barometric?? Does this have something to do with my purpose in life, my path?  Am I transforming in some way?  Shedding a skin (all over the place, apparently)?  Preparing for a change or destiny I just can't see yet?  Could I be careening toward some kind of blessed rock-bottom of chaos, a place so hoard-tastic that NOT changing will feel even more uncomfortable than making difficult longterm changes?    In a brief (wonderful) foray into talk therapy a few years ago, I learned that when an issue is heightened in one area of your life, it's usually present in other areas of your life, too.  And so here we are. Yes, indeed. I see it -- chaos, disarray, clutter -- everywhere. So what does it mean? I can still see a glint of humor in the situation, which I guess is something.  Some alternate ideas for defining C.H.A.O.S. occur to me:      -- "Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome"        (thanks Marla Cilley, "The FlyLady,"  for this one)  -- "Cardiac Hell At Overseeing Stuff"  -- "Can Happiness Apply to Overworked Stiffs?"   -- "Creative Help At Once, Sister!" But no.  Seriously though.   Wait!  Maybe this is all totally normal.  Is "life disheveled" just a reality of trying to live a multi-faceted life with a three-and-a-half year old little explorer (or a few of them) in your midst?  Most of our parent friends seem to share our struggle.  At dinner parties, we nod vehemently to each other's New Year's resolutions to declutter.  We share reviews of the best books about paring down.  (My big recommendation lately:  "The Joy of Less" by Francine Jay.  It's great.)  I guess it's possible that it's just par for the course --  keeping order with young children around is a lost cause. Phyllis Diller said, "Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing."  Well said, Phyllis.  But isn't is also POSSIBLE to find a way to crawl out of the constant feeling of being rushed and buried by stuff and tasks?   All you Virgos seem to manage to do it!   (Dammit.)   And to be really honest, none of these issues are new.  As a kid, my mom begged/bugged/bribed me to try to keep my room clean.  My habits caused riffs with college (and post-college) roommates.  Yes, I'm a little ADD, yes I'm busy, yes I'm thinking about a cool creative project that is more interesting than emptying the dishwasher.  But aren't we all? What I want:  clean, clear, energized, complete, peaceful, warm, open to possibility.  A sanctuary.  A celebration of family, creativity, love and laughter.  To be calm, focused, lighthearted.   I'm done with:  packed, heavy, crowded, tired, chaotic, old, overwhelmed.  Feeling like we're living in a storage unit.  A never-ending list of tasks, catching up, and putting off fun until later.  Feeling like my moods are running away with me.  Missing moments as I rush around.    *                      *                      * There are some good deals in real estate in Park City right now, and we've talked about moving.  And then we've talked about how we'd need to make major changes in the habits and rhythms of our lives in order to really enjoy a new home and keep it beautiful and clear.  It's awful to think about finally having wonderfully generous space and storage, and still not being able to maintain our lives in a semblance of order.  'Cause of course it's not the lack of closets or whatever that is keeping us from the environment we want to experience everyday.  It's us.  (Maybe just me. Ouch!) There was one period in my life when I instituted a system of keeping things orderly -- and it ACTUALLY WORKED!  It was inspired by a dynamo/site called www.flylady.net. The system focuses on a series of daily maintenance tasks, plus attention to one dedicated zone per day, with an extra focus area for the week.  I found myself cheerfully creating a "Control Journal" for our home in which both daily maintenance and  occasional or seasonal tasks like "organize CD collection" and "put up outdoor curtains on deck" were planned and scheduled, not completed in a frantic freak-out in the fifteen minutes right before people arrived for dinner.   Check out flylady.net for more info;  I find the site hard to navigate, but I sense that it's because a bunch of other right-brained people designed it, probably in a flurry of non-linear creative enthusiasm.  In any case, it's worth the time exploring --  there's a ton of great information there, and lots of support.   In any case, I'm going to resurrect the system.  I'm pulling out the Control Journal.  I'll share the journey back to sanity with you, including a downloadable copy of my binder pages, in case the lists I created for our life might apply to yours too.  Always one to enjoy the chart making / formatting / buying-of-the-containers more than the actual DOING of the organizing job at hand, my lists are extensive, detailed, and awesome (if I do say so myself).   There have been times when I've been able to make some cool music, dive deeply into writing, and enjoy some great creative adventures, but at the moment, getting my house (and life) in order is where I'm focused.  Maybe you're a music-lover or artist or parent or delightful human being out there feeling the same kinds of pressures in YOUR life.   If so, join me.  Let's do this.  I know I've probably spent too much energy over the years trying to appear 'together.'   It's time to make some changes so that appearing gets bumped by BEING.  Here's where I'm going to start tomorrow: 1) Drink water when I wake up and take vitamins.  (physical) 2) Calm down by breathing/sitting silently for ten minutes.  (emotional) 3) Put away every strewn shred of laundry. (environmental) 4) Keep a notepad with me to jot down everything I'm worried about forgetting or not getting done. (mental) [Lifecoaches would say to include "Tolerations" around me.  Might just do that.] And for good measure, here are some things I'm thankful for today: --That Nordstrom's no-problem return policy is so easy and classy --That Daisy had a great time skiing today --That Felice is feeling good and Baby B is rockin' --That my book is finally available on Kindle  --For the great messages left as comments on my last blog.      Sheila, thanks again. --For an unfaltering wifi signal here at Coffee Connection on State St. --For wonderful warm evenings with friends lately --For how hard Mark laughs at www.damnyouautocorrect.com Thanks for reading.  See you soon! Art, Passion, and Purpose," all of which are being heavily affected by the current tornado-like state of my life.   Ohhh honey.  There's a big old mess going on.  

Environmentally, mentally, emotionally, physically. . . everywhere I look, there is STUFF needing action, consideration, resolution.  It's like a paper monster has thrown up all over my life, leaving an angry trail of notes, receipts, crumpled-up kleenexes, grocery lists, prescriptions, Sundance tickets.  And then a machine akin to a tennis ball shooter follows right behind, haphazardly tossing toddler toys, plastic containers for recycling, stray potpourri pinecones, damp mittens, and half-coiled chargers for our many personal electronics.  I feel like I can't think straight;  even ideas and thoughts feel half-done, fragmented.  My digital life is neglected. . . I haven't posted on this blog in a ridiculously long time.  I'm tired, but can't sleep because of the backup of concerns, tasks, and ideas lined up in my head like planes on a runway.  I've had a cold for months, which has lately morphed into a post-nasal drip stage that tickles me into nightly coughing fits and begs me to keep my breathing shallow.  

In a fairly miraculous twist, relationships seem good.  I think.  Maybe they'd be even better after a major clearing and streamlining.   I know I'd be able to give them more thoughtful, undivided attention.  I'm certainly not doing that now.  'Cause the rest of my life feels like it's gone through a blender.   What. The. Hell. Is. Going. ON??

Why is there so much CHAOS?   Like Elizabeth Gilbert in "Eat  Pray Love," I wonder (paraphrasing here) if it's all stemming from a certain influence.   Is it hormonal?   Thyroidal?   Economic?  Chemical? Astrological?  Barometric??

Does this have something to do with my purpose in life, my path?  Am I transforming in some way?  Shedding a skin (all over the place, apparently)?  Preparing for a change or destiny I just can't see yet?  Could I be careening toward some kind of blessed rock-bottom of chaos, a place so hoard-tastic that NOT changing will feel even more uncomfortable than making difficult longterm changes?   

In a brief (wonderful) foray into talk therapy a few years ago, I learned that when an issue is heightened in one area of your life, it's usually present in other areas of your life, too.  And so here we are. Yes, indeed. I see it -- chaos, disarray, clutter -- everywhere. So what does it mean?

I can still see a glint of humor in the situation, which I guess is something.  Some alternate ideas for defining C.H.A.O.S. occur to me:    
 -- "Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome"  
     (thanks Marla Cilley, "The FlyLady,"  for this one)
 -- "Cardiac Hell At Overseeing Stuff"
 -- "Can Happiness Apply to Overworked Stiffs?" 
 -- "Creative Help At Once, Sister!"

But no.  Seriously though.  

Wait!  Maybe this is all totally normal.  Is "life disheveled" just a reality of trying to live a multi-faceted life with a three-and-a-half year old little explorer (or a few of them) in your midst?  Most of our parent friends seem to share our struggle.  At dinner parties, we nod vehemently to each other's New Year's resolutions to declutter.  We share reviews of the best books about paring down.  (My big recommendation lately:  "The Joy of Less" by Francine Jay.  It's great.)  I guess it's possible that it's just par for the course --  keeping order with young children around is a lost cause. Phyllis Diller said, "Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing."  Well said, Phyllis.  But isn't is also POSSIBLE to find a way to crawl out of the constant feeling of being rushed and buried by stuff and tasks?   All you Virgos seem to manage to do it!   (Dammit.)  

And to be really honest, none of these issues are new.  As a kid, my mom begged/bugged/bribed me to try to keep my room clean.  My habits caused riffs with college (and post-college) roommates.  Yes, I'm a little ADD, yes I'm busy, yes I'm thinking about a cool creative project that is more interesting than emptying the dishwasher.  But aren't we all?

What I want:  clean, clear, energized, complete, peaceful, warm, open to possibility.  A sanctuary.  A celebration of family, creativity, love and laughter.  To be calm, focused, lighthearted.  

I'm done with:  packed, heavy, crowded, tired, chaotic, old, overwhelmed.  Feeling like we're living in a storage unit.  A never-ending list of tasks, catching up, and putting off fun until later.  Feeling like my moods are running away with me.  Missing moments as I rush around.

   *                      *                      *

There are some good deals in real estate in Park City right now, and we've talked about moving.  And then we've talked about how we'd need to make major changes in the habits and rhythms of our lives in order to really enjoy a new home and keep it beautiful and clear.  It's awful to think about finally having wonderfully generous space and storage, and still not being able to maintain our lives in a semblance of order.  'Cause of course it's not the lack of closets or whatever that is keeping us from the environment we want to experience everyday.  It's us.  (Maybe just me. Ouch!)

There was one period in my life when I instituted a system of keeping things orderly -- and it ACTUALLY WORKED!  It was inspired by a dynamo/site called www.flylady.net. The system focuses on a series of daily maintenance tasks, plus attention to one dedicated zone per day, with an extra focus area for the week.  I found myself cheerfully creating a "Control Journal" for our home in which both daily maintenance and  occasional or seasonal tasks like "organize CD collection" and "put up outdoor curtains on deck" were planned and scheduled, not completed in a frantic freak-out in the fifteen minutes right before people arrived for dinner.   Check out flylady.net for more info;  I find the site hard to navigate, but I sense that it's because a bunch of other right-brained people designed it, probably in a flurry of non-linear creative enthusiasm.  In any case, it's worth the time exploring --  there's a ton of great information there, and lots of support.  

In any case, I'm going to resurrect the system.  I'm pulling out the Control Journal.  I'll share the journey back to sanity with you, including a downloadable copy of my binder pages, in case the lists I created for our life might apply to yours too.  Always one to enjoy the chart making / formatting / buying-of-the-containers more than the actual DOING of the organizing job at hand, my lists are extensive, detailed, and awesome (if I do say so myself).  

There have been times when I've been able to make some cool music, dive deeply into writing, and enjoy some great creative adventures, but at the moment, getting my house (and life) in order is where I'm focused.  Maybe you're a music-lover or artist or parent or delightful human being out there feeling the same kinds of pressures in YOUR life.   If so, join me.  Let's do this.  I know I've probably spent too much energy over the years trying to appear 'together.'   It's time to make some changes so that appearing gets bumped by BEING. 

Here's where I'm going to start tomorrow:
1) Drink water when I wake up and take vitamins.  (physical)
2) Calm down by breathing/sitting silently for ten minutes.  (emotional)
3) Put away every strewn shred of laundry. (environmental)
4) Keep a notepad with me to jot down everything I'm worried about forgetting or not getting done. (mental) [Lifecoaches would say to include "Tolerations" around me.  Might just do that.]


And for good measure, here are some things I'm thankful for today:
--That Nordstrom's no-problem return policy is so easy and classy
--That Daisy had a great time skiing today
--That Felice is feeling good and Baby B is rockin'
--That my book is finally available on Kindle 
--For the great messages left as comments on my last blog.  
   Sheila, thanks again.
--For an unfaltering wifi signal here at Coffee Connection on State St.
--For wonderful warm evenings with friends lately
--For how hard Mark laughs at www.damnyouautocorrect.com

Thanks for reading.  See you soon!


















]]> Thu, 13 Jan 2011 06:15:00 GMT 79CAE6974E6097E0F5BBACD61B7B4060 Making the Hard Stuff Look Easy, and the Easy Stuff Hard http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=414422 I saw singer/songwriter guitarist <a target="_new" href="http://www.michaelkelsey.com">Michael Kelsey play at the Egyptian Theatre in Park City a few weeks ago, and the experience is still resonating with me. We went on a last-minute whim, invited by friends who had extra tickets. Front row tickets, as it turned out! -- Thanks M &amp; K! If you're not familiar with Michael Kelsey's music -- or should I say, The Michael Kelsey Experience? -- he's a force majeure. With incredibly skillful guitar-playing, percussive popping/slapping/tapping on the guitar, mic, or anything else that might make a cool sound, and strong songwriting and singing, he's a one-man-band of the most expressive kind. I kept having 'deep thoughts' throughout the performance (so much so, that I had to root around in my purse for a piece of paper to write them down. Which I did. The piece of paper I wrote all over turned out to be a prescription I needed to fill. Crap.) &nbsp; Kelsey&rsquo;s playing reminded me of something Janis Ian said in a master class I attended at the Folks Fest Song School in Lyons, CO, years ago. She said, &quot;to captivate your audience, you need to make the hard stuff look easy, and the easy stuff look hard.&quot; I think of this quote a lot when I see performers that are particularly engaging. Where are they straddling the line between ease and showmanship? Which parts are the ones they could do in their sleep? What did they need to practice over and over to appear so flowing and graceful? Then the wondering: &nbsp;where is that line for me? &nbsp;Where am I flash or substance? &nbsp;Where is it work and where is it instinct? My thoughts reached back to an article I wrote about compelling stage performances . . . my conclusion was that we become fascinated with a performer when they do something out of our perceived realm of possibility &ndash; when they easily do something we don&rsquo;t secretly believe we could do ourselves with the right amount of time or effort. I am quite sure that Michael Kelsey&rsquo;s guitar-playing talent is something beyond my &ldquo;perceived realm of possibility.&rdquo; (At least for the moment. ?) Another revelation from the back-of-the-prescription notes: &ldquo;Some performers make you want to practice harder. Others make you want to throw away your instrument, because, really. . . what&rsquo;s the point!?&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;Craig saw Prince in concert a few years ago and said it almost made him want to quit playing; &nbsp;Prince was so insanely talented -- at his non-primary instruments, too, like bass and drums -- that it was almost disheartening, even to someone I see as a magically gifted player like Craig. After a while, my ego started fighting with my enjoyment, asking me to rank my own skills in relation to Michael&rsquo;s. &ldquo;All this percussive action, it&rsquo;s just a gimmick,&rdquo; my ego suggested. &ldquo;The electronic looping and layering, unnecessary and too much going on.&rdquo; &nbsp;I gave these two thoughts a wide berth, letting them run their course, and decided that, &ldquo;Umm, Yeah, NO.&rdquo;&nbsp;&nbsp;He&rsquo;s got skills that I don&rsquo;t have, gifts I don&rsquo;t know if I&rsquo;m even interested in developing. &nbsp;So, sorry Ego. &nbsp;You lose this round. There is room up there for everybody, in a wildly fluctuating continuum of talent and skill and innovation and inspiration that moves among all of us who create and experience art. &nbsp;I&rsquo;ve had some amazing moments; I hopefully will have more. &nbsp;Michael can have his too. In the meantime, I&rsquo;ll work on making the hard stuff look easy. (Making the easy stuff look hard isn&rsquo;t too challenging at the moment!) Five Things I&rsquo;m Thankful For Today: 1. That Daisy is going back to school on Monday for more Montessori fun&nbsp; 2. For good workouts that leave me energized and full of endorphins! 3. For nice walks and neighborly drinks 4. For our full bounty from the farmer&rsquo;s market yesterday 5. For the great visit home over the last few weeks Michael Kelsey play at the Egyptian Theatre in Park City a few weeks ago, and the experience is still resonating with me. We went on a last-minute whim, invited by friends who had extra tickets. Front row tickets, as it turned out! -- Thanks M & K!

If you're not familiar with Michael Kelsey's music -- or should I say, The Michael Kelsey Experience? -- he's a force majeure. With incredibly skillful guitar-playing, percussive popping/slapping/tapping on the guitar, mic, or anything else that might make a cool sound, and strong songwriting and singing, he's a one-man-band of the most expressive kind.

I kept having 'deep thoughts' throughout the performance (so much so, that I had to root around in my purse for a piece of paper to write them down. Which I did. The piece of paper I wrote all over turned out to be a prescription I needed to fill. Crap.)   Kelsey’s playing reminded me of something Janis Ian said in a master class I attended at the Folks Fest Song School in Lyons, CO, years ago. She said, "to captivate your audience, you need to make the hard stuff look easy, and the easy stuff look hard."

I think of this quote a lot when I see performers that are particularly engaging. Where are they straddling the line between ease and showmanship? Which parts are the ones they could do in their sleep? What did they need to practice over and over to appear so flowing and graceful?

Then the wondering:  where is that line for me?  Where am I flash or substance?  Where is it work and where is it instinct?

My thoughts reached back to an article I wrote about compelling stage performances . . . my conclusion was that we become fascinated with a performer when they do something out of our perceived realm of possibility – when they easily do something we don’t secretly believe we could do ourselves with the right amount of time or effort. I am quite sure that Michael Kelsey’s guitar-playing talent is something beyond my “perceived realm of possibility.” (At least for the moment. ?)

Another revelation from the back-of-the-prescription notes: “Some performers make you want to practice harder. Others make you want to throw away your instrument, because, really. . . what’s the point!?”  Craig saw Prince in concert a few years ago and said it almost made him want to quit playing;  Prince was so insanely talented -- at his non-primary instruments, too, like bass and drums -- that it was almost disheartening, even to someone I see as a magically gifted player like Craig.

After a while, my ego started fighting with my enjoyment, asking me to rank my own skills in relation to Michael’s. “All this percussive action, it’s just a gimmick,” my ego suggested. “The electronic looping and layering, unnecessary and too much going on.”  I gave these two thoughts a wide berth, letting them run their course, and decided that, “Umm, Yeah, NO.”  He’s got skills that I don’t have, gifts I don’t know if I’m even interested in developing.  So, sorry Ego.  You lose this round. There is room up there for everybody, in a wildly fluctuating continuum of talent and skill and innovation and inspiration that moves among all of us who create and experience art.  I’ve had some amazing moments; I hopefully will have more.  Michael can have his too.

In the meantime, I’ll work on making the hard stuff look easy. (Making the easy stuff look hard isn’t too challenging at the moment!)


Five Things I’m Thankful For Today:
1. That Daisy is going back to school on Monday for more Montessori fun 
2. For good workouts that leave me energized and full of endorphins!
3. For nice walks and neighborly drinks
4. For our full bounty from the farmer’s market yesterday
5. For the great visit home over the last few weeks



]]> Thu, 26 Aug 2010 21:25:00 GMT D7C41E13B0B416A833514173E26CB903 Summer shows, letting it flow. . . http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=337940 I'm practicing up for the summer shows that start on Saturday night at The Homestead in Midway, thinking about how much my hands and voice retain in muscle memory, how much I need the work and polish that practice brings. . .&nbsp; I miss my old piano friend -- I haven't been playing very much lately. &nbsp;Daisy seems to sense the importance of the piano in my life and respond accordingly to the attention which shifts away from her when I practice. &nbsp;She'll usually immediately ask that I play her a song that she can do a dance to, or that I stop playing altogether. &nbsp;I know it's temporary, which makes it bearable. &nbsp;She's three. &nbsp;She'll be in school for whole days before we know it, and I'll have all the time in the world to play, but it's still tricky. &nbsp;I find myself journaling more, trying to keep up with the bottlenecks of emotion and complex thoughts that used to get worked out through the music. &nbsp;It helps, but as those of you who play or write music know, there's a special quality to the songs that soothes like nothing else. &nbsp;At times I feel like I don't know myself very well lately; &nbsp;I'm certain it's because of music's missing piece in my life.&nbsp; We're awash in verdant lushness in Summit Park. &nbsp;First the daffodils, then tulips, then the wave of bluebells taking over the wooded walkway. &nbsp;Now we're seeing allium and the start of the ground cover that has those purple flowers on it -- it's like floating through a fairy forest, getting to our front door! &nbsp; The work on the book over the last year and a half has been an interesting pause in my music life. . . it's helped remove the pressure to produce musically if I'm not inclined, to step back and listen to the music out there without the awareness and curiousity about how my current work measures up. &nbsp;There's something brewing -- it's been stirring inside for a while -- but the writing, release, and promotion of &quot;Kick-Ass Creativity&quot; has been a healthy place for me to spend my time. &nbsp;Working with thousands of words instead of hundreds has reignited my love of language and ideas. Thinking deeply about process and creativity has shined a light on the customs that I want to nurture or discard. &nbsp;I'm taking my own advice, and it feels good. &nbsp;Taking time to be quiet, to do the things that I really want to do in a given moment instead of always deferring to the 'shoulds.' &nbsp; I'm excited to play these shows this summer, as much for my own mental health and pleasure as for the fun that we'll have together. &nbsp;I can't wait to see you all. &nbsp;In case you're not on the mailing list, here's the <a target="_new" href="./calendar.cfm">link to the summer calendar. &nbsp;: )&nbsp; Best wishes,&nbsp; mb Five Things I'm Thankful For Today: 1. &nbsp;That Ellie had Daisy fast asleep when we got home on Saturday. &nbsp;Super-sitter. &nbsp;Love her.&nbsp; 2. &nbsp;That my slow start work day ramped up into high-productivity sometime around 12:30. &nbsp;Thank you, white mocha. &nbsp; 3. &nbsp;Fun with Ryan &amp; co this weekend on the most beautiful night.&nbsp; 4. &nbsp;Enough time to do what I really needed to do today.&nbsp; 5. &nbsp;That we'll get to see A and L when they're here in July. &nbsp; I'm practicing up for the summer shows that start on Saturday night at The Homestead in Midway, thinking about how much my hands and voice retain in muscle memory, how much I need the work and polish that practice brings. . . 

I miss my old piano friend -- I haven't been playing very much lately.  Daisy seems to sense the importance of the piano in my life and respond accordingly to the attention which shifts away from her when I practice.  She'll usually immediately ask that I play her a song that she can do a dance to, or that I stop playing altogether.  I know it's temporary, which makes it bearable.  She's three.  She'll be in school for whole days before we know it, and I'll have all the time in the world to play, but it's still tricky.  I find myself journaling more, trying to keep up with the bottlenecks of emotion and complex thoughts that used to get worked out through the music.  It helps, but as those of you who play or write music know, there's a special quality to the songs that soothes like nothing else.  At times I feel like I don't know myself very well lately;  I'm certain it's because of music's missing piece in my life. 

We're awash in verdant lushness in Summit Park.  First the daffodils, then tulips, then the wave of bluebells taking over the wooded walkway.  Now we're seeing allium and the start of the ground cover that has those purple flowers on it -- it's like floating through a fairy forest, getting to our front door!  

The work on the book over the last year and a half has been an interesting pause in my music life. . . it's helped remove the pressure to produce musically if I'm not inclined, to step back and listen to the music out there without the awareness and curiousity about how my current work measures up.  There's something brewing -- it's been stirring inside for a while -- but the writing, release, and promotion of "Kick-Ass Creativity" has been a healthy place for me to spend my time.  Working with thousands of words instead of hundreds has reignited my love of language and ideas. Thinking deeply about process and creativity has shined a light on the customs that I want to nurture or discard.  I'm taking my own advice, and it feels good.  Taking time to be quiet, to do the things that I really want to do in a given moment instead of always deferring to the 'shoulds.'  

I'm excited to play these shows this summer, as much for my own mental health and pleasure as for the fun that we'll have together.  I can't wait to see you all.  In case you're not on the mailing list, here's the link to the summer calendar.  : ) 

Best wishes, 
mb

Five Things I'm Thankful For Today:
1.  That Ellie had Daisy fast asleep when we got home on Saturday.  Super-sitter.  Love her. 
2.  That my slow start work day ramped up into high-productivity sometime around 12:30.  Thank you, white mocha.  
3.  Fun with Ryan & co this weekend on the most beautiful night. 
4.  Enough time to do what I really needed to do today. 
5.  That we'll get to see A and L when they're here in July.  




]]> Tue, 29 Jun 2010 04:22:40 GMT 9D5219C885F305B7F7FC67F562281D73 Movin' and Shakin' http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=203744 At the &quot;Movers and Shakers&quot; workshop in San Francisco with Cheryl Richardson and Reid Tracy. . .so much info to think about. &nbsp;Nice people! &nbsp;I've met such nice, fascinating movahs and shakahs so far. &nbsp; Great to meet you Erin, Maggie, Maureen (Reeny), Joy, Carol, and Michelle. &nbsp; I got the book cover from Greg for &quot;Kick-Ass Creativity&quot; last night -- so exciting! &nbsp;It looks great! &nbsp;I'm carrying it around in my purse like a nerd, pulling it out to show anyone who looks even possibly interested in it. &nbsp;I'm pretty sure the barista at Peet's coffee was really into it. &nbsp; So tired. &nbsp;And damnit! &nbsp;Daylight savings taking an hour out of my sleep. . . ! Today I'm thankful for:&nbsp; 1. &nbsp;The fact that someone moved the floral arrangement on stage so that the birds of paradise in it no longer appear to be poising to devour Reid and Cheryl. 2. &nbsp;The nice sunshine on our breaks.&nbsp; 3. &nbsp;The fact that Louise Hay has been part of our group the last few days. She's a full on living legend as far as I'm concerned. 4. &nbsp;Daylight savings. &nbsp;Just kidding...daylight savings sucks when you're on vacation. &nbsp;Even a business one. 5. &nbsp;That Daisy is having a great time with her grandparents. &nbsp;It's truly hard to tell who's having more fun.&nbsp; hope you're all well, enjoying the Brides of March (or whatever signs of spring taking place in your neighborhood), and digging the occasional rays of sunlight peeking through! xoxo mb
I got the book cover from Greg for "Kick-Ass Creativity" last night -- so exciting!  It looks great!  I'm carrying it around in my purse like a nerd, pulling it out to show anyone who looks even possibly interested in it.  I'm pretty sure the barista at Peet's coffee was really into it.  

So tired.  And damnit!  Daylight savings taking an hour out of my sleep. . . !

Today I'm thankful for: 
1.  The fact that someone moved the floral arrangement on stage so that the birds of paradise in it no longer appear to be poising to devour Reid and Cheryl.
2.  The nice sunshine on our breaks. 
3.  The fact that Louise Hay has been part of our group the last few days. She's a full on living legend as far as I'm concerned.
4.  Daylight savings.  Just kidding...daylight savings sucks when you're on vacation.  Even a business one.
5.  That Daisy is having a great time with her grandparents.  It's truly hard to tell who's having more fun. 

hope you're all well, enjoying the Brides of March (or whatever signs of spring taking place in your neighborhood), and digging the occasional rays of sunlight peeking through!

xoxo
mb
]]> Sun, 14 Mar 2010 11:53:30 GMT 4B09EC7527B1A196F1962EA71D059D24 girl without her piano! http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=160300 Getting ready for tomorrow night's ArtTalk with the Kimball Art Center. &nbsp;It's funny how different this feels than when I prepare for a show. &nbsp;I've been putting together setlists and players and gear checklists for so long that it's second nature. &nbsp;This feels a lot harder! Mark's experiences with Toastmasters has made me really sensitive to things like how many times I use 'umm' or 'uhh' in between real words. &nbsp;And Tim Koegel's (great) book on presenting that I read awhile back is making me wonder if I will revert to the 'fig leaf', 'T-Rex,' or 'hands in a steeple' poses that people tend to when they're in front of an audience. &nbsp;I sense that the T-Rex could be a problem. &nbsp; And what to wear? &nbsp;Businesssy presenting suit? &nbsp;Creative artsy flowy fabulousness? &nbsp;Park City jeans and a sweater? (insert Marge Simpson quiet grumble here.) The good part is that when my stress starts rising, I find myself literally turning to some of the tools that we're going to talk about tomorrow. &nbsp;Jumping to the Finale -- the end result feeling of relief, delight, and gratitude. Remembering that there's a significant purpose I'm drawn to doing this; &nbsp;it has a ready gift in it that will unfold. Appreciating the power of a little deadline -- I needed to get these thoughts organized for this kind of thing anyway for when the book comes out. &nbsp;Might as well take the opportunity now. &nbsp;And then there's the fun bonus. . . I'll get to see people I haven't seen in ages from my hermit-like writing life of the last year. &nbsp; So I'll keep getting ready. &nbsp;And getting excited. &nbsp;And hopefully at 9 p.m. tomorrow night, I'll have some great stories to share about how well it all went! Five Things I'm Thankful For Today: 1. &nbsp;That people are coming tomorrow night! &nbsp; The only thing worse that being nervous about something is finding out later that you were nervous for NOTHING. 2. &nbsp;That the radio interviews went well with Randy last night and Leslie Thatcher this morning.&nbsp; 3. &nbsp;Yummy white mocha here at Alpine Internet Cafe. &nbsp;And that amazing smelling bagel in the toaster. &nbsp;Might have to get one. 4. &nbsp;The nice conversation I had with my brother Billy yesterday. 5. &nbsp;Daisy snuggling with us so sweetly this morning. &nbsp;
Mark's experiences with Toastmasters has made me really sensitive to things like how many times I use 'umm' or 'uhh' in between real words.  And Tim Koegel's (great) book on presenting that I read awhile back is making me wonder if I will revert to the 'fig leaf', 'T-Rex,' or 'hands in a steeple' poses that people tend to when they're in front of an audience.  I sense that the T-Rex could be a problem.  

And what to wear?  Businesssy presenting suit?  Creative artsy flowy fabulousness?  Park City jeans and a sweater? (insert Marge Simpson quiet grumble here.)

The good part is that when my stress starts rising, I find myself literally turning to some of the tools that we're going to talk about tomorrow.  Jumping to the Finale -- the end result feeling of relief, delight, and gratitude. Remembering that there's a significant purpose I'm drawn to doing this;  it has a ready gift in it that will unfold. Appreciating the power of a little deadline -- I needed to get these thoughts organized for this kind of thing anyway for when the book comes out.  Might as well take the opportunity now.  And then there's the fun bonus. . . I'll get to see people I haven't seen in ages from my hermit-like writing life of the last year.  

So I'll keep getting ready.  And getting excited.  And hopefully at 9 p.m. tomorrow night, I'll have some great stories to share about how well it all went!

Five Things I'm Thankful For Today:

1.  That people are coming tomorrow night!   The only thing worse that being nervous about something is finding out later that you were nervous for NOTHING.
2.  That the radio interviews went well with Randy last night and Leslie Thatcher this morning. 
3.  Yummy white mocha here at Alpine Internet Cafe.  And that amazing smelling bagel in the toaster.  Might have to get one.
4.  The nice conversation I had with my brother Billy yesterday.
5.  Daisy snuggling with us so sweetly this morning.  






]]> Wed, 13 Jan 2010 22:55:00 GMT 6F89256FF961BB4C512415E0DAEA351A ArtTalk next week! http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=156683 I'm pretty excited to be speaking at the Kimball's Art Talk series next Thursday night. &nbsp;It's only supposed to last about 1 to 1.5 hours, so I have some serious compressing to do in order to cover what I'd like to do. &nbsp; Turned in the final galley edits to my book today. &nbsp;It looks amazing. &nbsp;Not too many last minute changes, which will make a whole multitude of people in the production editing office happy, I think. &nbsp;It's tough, though, letting go of your babies . . . sending them off on their ways to become what they're meant to become. &nbsp; Lots of deep thoughts lately, no time whatsoever to get them down. &nbsp;More later! Thanks for coming by,&nbsp; mb
Turned in the final galley edits to my book today.  It looks amazing.  Not too many last minute changes, which will make a whole multitude of people in the production editing office happy, I think.  It's tough, though, letting go of your babies . . . sending them off on their ways to become what they're meant to become.  

Lots of deep thoughts lately, no time whatsoever to get them down.  More later!

Thanks for coming by, 
mb
]]> Sat, 09 Jan 2010 07:10:00 GMT 862C8A92021EF02832693CEF22E2884F Mad Men and New Moons http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=101009 For a new moon Sunday, I can't say things kicked off to a stellar start. Lillian kicked my butt at Scrabble. &nbsp;Three games won, she spared me more trouncing by packing up the board and calling it a night.&nbsp;Meant to get over to Ulta to check out the latest step-up-from-the-drugstore cosmetics, but fell asleep during meditation instead and slept for two and a half hours. &nbsp;In jeans. &nbsp;(But it was a nice nap!) &nbsp;Daisy's calling me right now -- sweetly, but loudly -- &nbsp;&quot;Mommmmmy.....Mommmmmmy....&quot; &nbsp; I remember when she said DaDa all the time and never called me -- her primary caregiver -- by name. &nbsp;She seems to have the hang of it these days. &nbsp; I usually take a few moments and write out my intentions for the next month when the new moon comes around. &nbsp;It's always a good time to reflect and make a few decisions, but today the feeling just wasn't there. &nbsp;(Again, the nap just seemed more pressing.) &nbsp;I don't know what the official theme of this month is, but I can tell you our theme around chez Maziarz is going to be &quot;Get the crap out of the house and get ready for a cozy, beautiful, creative winter.&quot; &nbsp;Or something like that... &nbsp;: ) Ah, Mad Men. &nbsp;The respite of 1963, right here in our own remote controlled, Tivo-ed living rooms. &nbsp;I'm fairly sure Mark and I are going to be Don and Betty Draper for Halloween if Mark can find a studly enough suit. &nbsp;Me? &nbsp;I got Betty Draper any night of the week in my closet. I love the vintage vibe.&nbsp; I'm not sure if the era of the early sixties is more simple or more complicated that the one we live in now. &nbsp;Civil rights, women's liberation, sexual mores, workplace politics...is it really really better, or is modern culture better at hiding the inconsistencies, the problems? &nbsp;Are we just keeping different things under the rug than the stuff that used to be there? &nbsp;I don't know. &nbsp;I'm really asking.&nbsp; Lillian asked the other day -- rhetorically, but also really, I think -- if anyone is really happy. &nbsp;I keep thinking about it. &nbsp; At dinner the other night, everyone discussed the antidepressants they've tried or are taking. &nbsp;Grandparents, kids, dogs...is there anyone who isn't on something? &nbsp;Or should I say, is anyone who's not on something happy? &nbsp;In my cynical moments, I'm not sure. &nbsp;Utah has the highest percentage of women on antidepressants in the country. &nbsp;And we've got mountains, skiing, hiking, red rock canyons, fresh air, healthy industry -- what else could we want? &nbsp;[Well, I guess the freedom to speak your truth. &nbsp;In some Utah cultures, that one doesn't necessarily fly.] In a recent O Magazine, Martha Beck writes about 'culprit issues' -- the ones we like to believe are the real root of our sadness or problems -- and how it's usually an illusion. &nbsp;We're fat -- but if we weren't fat, everything would be perfect, right? &nbsp;Our families make us nuts. &nbsp;If we'd only been born to a more functional, normal family, we'd be able to handle everything that comes our way. &nbsp;I guess it can be whatever. &nbsp;So now I'm looking around me, listening carefully to both my own words and those of others, sorting out whether there are actually culprit issues at work all over the place. &nbsp;Are they chronic? &nbsp;Do we all take on serial issues from time to time? &nbsp;Is this just life -- not reducible to a psychological life-coachy theory? &nbsp;I'm not sure yet. &nbsp;But as usual, Martha hits so close to home that I can barely dive in to the article at first flip through the magazine. &nbsp; Sometimes I suspect that the time and energy freed by modern conveniences has backfired on us a little. &nbsp;Innovators imagined that humanity would do what? &nbsp;The goal was never to make life so easy that we just sit around all day, was it? &nbsp;Perhaps the hope was for people to think deeper thoughts, help others more, relieve suffering....surely we're meant to do something great with the extra hours and efforts saved by things like dishwashers and computers and cars. &nbsp;Do we? &nbsp;Maybe the key is to make sure that the way we spend the time and energy available to us is worthy of our best selves. &nbsp;We must remember that we are not removed from the need for effort and time itself. &nbsp;It feels good when we work out; &nbsp;our bodies are happy to know what they can do. &nbsp;When we cultivate a garden, we find more pleasure and pride in it than in the perhaps more aesthetically perfect work of professional landscapers. &nbsp;We must find good work that we like to do. &nbsp;Right livelihood. &nbsp;We must sweat. &nbsp;We must play on the floor with our kids. &nbsp;We must make things with our hands that matter to somebody, even if that somebody is only us. &nbsp; Okay, so I guess I have an intention after all for this new moon. &nbsp;I want to emerge from the world of my head and to engage in the world of the body, the heart, the hands more everyday. &nbsp;And I want to notice when I'm happy, just as often as I note the times I'm not. Today I'm Thankful For: 1. &nbsp;New flavors at Starbucks. &nbsp;Harvest Spice White Mocha and Toasted Marshmallow Latte, I can barely WAIT to try you. &nbsp;(Though I do wonder if Starby's read my Tweets. &nbsp;I've been having the baristas mix pumpkin spice and white chocolate for my lattes since September and freely commenting about it online.) 2. &nbsp;Cool artists like Jeffery Lautenslager, whom Mark and I met in Encinitas after sending him an email about one of his amazing kinetic sculptures that we saw from the beach. &nbsp; 3. &nbsp;The internet. &nbsp;That allowed us to find out the artist of that sculpture in about two minutes of Googling. 4. &nbsp;To be going home tomorrow after a nice trip. &nbsp;It always feels good to be home. &nbsp; 5. &nbsp;For my sweet nephew Quinn. &nbsp;
Lillian kicked my butt at Scrabble.  Three games won, she spared me more trouncing by packing up the board and calling it a night. Meant to get over to Ulta to check out the latest step-up-from-the-drugstore cosmetics, but fell asleep during meditation instead and slept for two and a half hours.  In jeans.  (But it was a nice nap!)  Daisy's calling me right now -- sweetly, but loudly --  "Mommmmmy.....Mommmmmmy...."   I remember when she said DaDa all the time and never called me -- her primary caregiver -- by name.  She seems to have the hang of it these days.  

I usually take a few moments and write out my intentions for the next month when the new moon comes around.  It's always a good time to reflect and make a few decisions, but today the feeling just wasn't there.  (Again, the nap just seemed more pressing.)  I don't know what the official theme of this month is, but I can tell you our theme around chez Maziarz is going to be "Get the crap out of the house and get ready for a cozy, beautiful, creative winter."  Or something like that...  : )

Ah, Mad Men.  The respite of 1963, right here in our own remote controlled, Tivo-ed living rooms.  I'm fairly sure Mark and I are going to be Don and Betty Draper for Halloween if Mark can find a studly enough suit.  Me?  I got Betty Draper any night of the week in my closet. I love the vintage vibe. 

I'm not sure if the era of the early sixties is more simple or more complicated that the one we live in now.  Civil rights, women's liberation, sexual mores, workplace politics...is it really really better, or is modern culture better at hiding the inconsistencies, the problems?  Are we just keeping different things under the rug than the stuff that used to be there?  I don't know.  I'm really asking. 

Lillian asked the other day -- rhetorically, but also really, I think -- if anyone is really happy.  I keep thinking about it.   At dinner the other night, everyone discussed the antidepressants they've tried or are taking.  Grandparents, kids, dogs...is there anyone who isn't on something?  Or should I say, is anyone who's not on something happy?  In my cynical moments, I'm not sure.  Utah has the highest percentage of women on antidepressants in the country.  And we've got mountains, skiing, hiking, red rock canyons, fresh air, healthy industry -- what else could we want?  [Well, I guess the freedom to speak your truth.  In some Utah cultures, that one doesn't necessarily fly.]

In a recent O Magazine, Martha Beck writes about 'culprit issues' -- the ones we like to believe are the real root of our sadness or problems -- and how it's usually an illusion.  We're fat -- but if we weren't fat, everything would be perfect, right?  Our families make us nuts.  If we'd only been born to a more functional, normal family, we'd be able to handle everything that comes our way.  I guess it can be whatever.  So now I'm looking around me, listening carefully to both my own words and those of others, sorting out whether there are actually culprit issues at work all over the place.  Are they chronic?  Do we all take on serial issues from time to time?  Is this just life -- not reducible to a psychological life-coachy theory?  I'm not sure yet.  But as usual, Martha hits so close to home that I can barely dive in to the article at first flip through the magazine.  

Sometimes I suspect that the time and energy freed by modern conveniences has backfired on us a little.  Innovators imagined that humanity would do what?  The goal was never to make life so easy that we just sit around all day, was it?  Perhaps the hope was for people to think deeper thoughts, help others more, relieve suffering....surely we're meant to do something great with the extra hours and efforts saved by things like dishwashers and computers and cars.  Do we?  Maybe the key is to make sure that the way we spend the time and energy available to us is worthy of our best selves.  We must remember that we are not removed from the need for effort and time itself.  It feels good when we work out;  our bodies are happy to know what they can do.  When we cultivate a garden, we find more pleasure and pride in it than in the perhaps more aesthetically perfect work of professional landscapers.  We must find good work that we like to do.  Right livelihood.  We must sweat.  We must play on the floor with our kids.  We must make things with our hands that matter to somebody, even if that somebody is only us.  

Okay, so I guess I have an intention after all for this new moon.  I want to emerge from the world of my head and to engage in the world of the body, the heart, the hands more everyday.  And I want to notice when I'm happy, just as often as I note the times I'm not.

Today I'm Thankful For:
1.  New flavors at Starbucks.  Harvest Spice White Mocha and Toasted Marshmallow Latte, I can barely WAIT to try you.  (Though I do wonder if Starby's read my Tweets.  I've been having the baristas mix pumpkin spice and white chocolate for my lattes since September and freely commenting about it online.)
2.  Cool artists like Jeffery Lautenslager, whom Mark and I met in Encinitas after sending him an email about one of his amazing kinetic sculptures that we saw from the beach.  
3.  The internet.  That allowed us to find out the artist of that sculpture in about two minutes of Googling.
4.  To be going home tomorrow after a nice trip.  It always feels good to be home.  
5.  For my sweet nephew Quinn.  







]]> Mon, 19 Oct 2009 08:25:00 GMT B062572C7ED7A7835EB9A7FBF3D34252 Why Blog? How often to Blog? Blah Blah Blog?? http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=100103 Mark and I were talking on the way down in the car yesterday about blogging, and where it shakes out in the big picture of stuff to do and ways to connect with people. &nbsp;I've decided that I might do better to write more often with less fanfare, less wring-the-depths-out-of-my-spirit about the whole thing. &nbsp;So that's the new plan.&nbsp; Sometimes I read too many blogs/tweets/facebook posts in a row that have no apparent cultural or newsworthy value, and I start wondering why why why? are all these people feeling that it's interesting or important for others to know that the writer is standing in line somewhere, or not liking some celebrity's hair, or thinking about the changes in the weather. &nbsp;It makes me worry that I am more self-indulgent in my posts than is savory. &nbsp;I don't want to be a jerk, or to look like the self-involved person that at some level, we all are. &nbsp; &nbsp;But I want to communicate to those seeking contact and content. &nbsp;I want to remark when there's something to say, to add a voice to the chorus, whether aligned or dissenting. &nbsp;When there might be something to share that could help someone, or save somebody a frustration I experienced, or help light a fire of excitement that spreads wonderfully within someone's life. &nbsp;Maybe I've been too concerned with having a specific point of view -- trying too hard to connect my 'deep thoughts' to creativity or music or writing, whatever. &nbsp;Well, you might be hearing more stories about Daisy (now 2 and a half) or food or getting the clutter out! or the other things that occupy my daily life so much. &nbsp;Hope that's alright with y'all. I also want to find some models of great blogs with rich, helpful content. &nbsp;Can you guys turn me on to some of your favorites? &nbsp; What's the right amount to blog? &nbsp;Multiple times a day? &nbsp;Daily? &nbsp;Weekly? &nbsp; Please comment and share with me how often your favorite bloggers post. &nbsp;There are usually rhythms to these things, and I am perfectly happy to learn from those who've found great ones already.&nbsp; Okay, so that's it for today. &nbsp;I'll wrap it up with my thankful things, starting with a thank you to you! Today I'm thankful for: 1. &nbsp;The chance to have a good talk with my sister. 2. &nbsp;That Daisy's teeth are feeling better after she knocked them IN the other day -- yikes! 3. &nbsp;Reconnecting with great old friends! 4. &nbsp;Wonderful grandparents. &nbsp;:)&nbsp; 5. &nbsp;Naps during those great midwestern rains. &nbsp; &nbsp; <!--EndFragment--> Mark and I were talking on the way down in the car yesterday about blogging, and where it shakes out in the big picture of stuff to do and ways to connect with people.  I've decided that I might do better to write more often with less fanfare, less wring-the-depths-out-of-my-spirit about the whole thing.  So that's the new plan. 

Sometimes I read too many blogs/tweets/facebook posts in a row that have no apparent cultural or newsworthy value, and I start wondering why why why? are all these people feeling that it's interesting or important for others to know that the writer is standing in line somewhere, or not liking some celebrity's hair, or thinking about the changes in the weather.  It makes me worry that I am more self-indulgent in my posts than is savory.  I don't want to be a jerk, or to look like the self-involved person that at some level, we all are.  

 But I want to communicate to those seeking contact and content.  I want to remark when there's something to say, to add a voice to the chorus, whether aligned or dissenting.  When there might be something to share that could help someone, or save somebody a frustration I experienced, or help light a fire of excitement that spreads wonderfully within someone's life.  Maybe I've been too concerned with having a specific point of view -- trying too hard to connect my 'deep thoughts' to creativity or music or writing, whatever.  Well, you might be hearing more stories about Daisy (now 2 and a half) or food or getting the clutter out! or the other things that occupy my daily life so much.  Hope that's alright with y'all.

I also want to find some models of great blogs with rich, helpful content.  Can you guys turn me on to some of your favorites?  

What's the right amount to blog?  Multiple times a day?  Daily?  Weekly?   Please comment and share with me how often your favorite bloggers post.  There are usually rhythms to these things, and I am perfectly happy to learn from those who've found great ones already. 

Okay, so that's it for today.  I'll wrap it up with my thankful things, starting with a thank you to you!

Today I'm thankful for:

1.  The chance to have a good talk with my sister.

2.  That Daisy's teeth are feeling better after she knocked them IN the other day -- yikes!

3.  Reconnecting with great old friends!

4.  Wonderful grandparents.  :) 

5.  Naps during those great midwestern rains.  

 

]]> Sat, 17 Oct 2009 19:10:00 GMT 5B07FF74C192E8BAB0B544628BF5B5DB The Creative Flood http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=84430 Hi Everybody... I haven't been blogging much at all lately -- I'm sorry for the silence. &nbsp;Even getting an occasional &quot;tweet&quot; out seems challenging sometimes. &nbsp;I have a theory though, that in these modern times, we reach out to our virtual communities and hubs when we feel a need to be heard, to find witness. &nbsp;So either I haven't felt that I've had much to say (except for the dozen tweets and FB entries tonight while hopped up on a white mocha here at Coffee Garden), or that I feel witnessed enough in my daily life that I have been content there lately. &nbsp;Okay, there's the third option of just facing the fact that having a two-and-a-half year old in your life pretty much draws every spare extra second out of it. &nbsp;(And replaces them with laughter and sweet insider glances with your honey). &nbsp;Maybe it's a melange of the three elements.... I've seemed to notice an interesting phenomena about ideas lately -- how they come in an all-encompassing, engulfing flood and then seem to recede all at once too. &nbsp;I feel so surrounded by possibility that I'm almost drowning, so full of realized visions that I don't want to stop at one. &nbsp;And other times, the emptiness, the vacuum in me feels as if it's just as complete. &nbsp;Focus and incentive ebbs and flows in screwed up inverse proportion to time and energy available for exploring a project. &nbsp;A few times in the past month, I've found myself with a couple hours open unexpectedly, and instead of diving in to something cool and creative and fun and ready to get rolling, I've been unable to catch the spark of intention and excitement &nbsp;that typically sends me down a specific project path. &nbsp;Maybe there's a deep &quot;resting of the fields&quot; going on, maybe I need the insistent pressure of a deadline to get all the neurons firing -- I don't know. &nbsp;Maybe I'm just not very good at forcing myself to do anything. &nbsp; I'm thinking a lot about right livelihood, in the Buddhist sense. &nbsp;What is the purpose and value of my work? &nbsp;Of anyone's? &nbsp;What is the right direction of our time and efforts? &nbsp;Is there a better way than the one I've chosen? &nbsp; Sometimes I wipe down the counter and realize it's the fifth time I've done it in a day. &nbsp;And I find myself extrapolating how many times my mom (and her mom, and hers) did these necessary, repetitive tasks. &nbsp;I think it's all good -- that we think in different rhythms, sometimes needing the idling time that menial tasks provide in order to work things out -- but still, the over-and-over of it does get to you. &nbsp;I know I'm not alone. &nbsp;How many times has Mark watered trees, sorted photos, snow-blown the driveway? &nbsp;How many patients' eyes has my Dad checked with repetitious precision? &nbsp;How many gigs have my friends played? &nbsp; I'm thinking about space, too. &nbsp;What does it mean -- the spaces you create around you? &nbsp;What do they say about us? &nbsp;How quickly do they reflect what's going on within us? &nbsp;As houses foreclose around us in the Utah market -- both those of wealthy speculators and working people who got in over their heads -- I'm conflicted, feeling pulled by opportunity and compassion, possibility and warning. . . wondering if it's bad karma to want one of these suddenly more affordable (well, kind of) homes, or a sign to find more contentment in exactly the place I am, to release the sense of striving that is so celebrated in American culture. &nbsp; Maybe it's the fall, enhancing a touch of meloncholy. &nbsp;I know the changing seasons always bring up a sense of accountability for me. &nbsp;Another autumn here. &nbsp;The hillsides changing again. &nbsp;What was I doing last year? &nbsp;What did I hope to have done by this year? &nbsp;I had a teacher in high school, Bill Sinon, who once suggested that people who live in four-season climates are more motivated and action-oriented than those in climates with only one general season. &nbsp;In Hawaii, he said, if you don't do something today, you can do it tomorrow. &nbsp;You're as likely to have another sunny, comfortable, lovely day as not. &nbsp;In the midwest, we're pushed along by the seasons, always knowing that winter -- and spring, and summer, and fall -- is just around the corner. &nbsp;So we move forward, creating deadlines, noting progress. &nbsp; There are so many projects in my life that are done and out of my hands -- the Crab Cove kids music cd, my book -- that I guess I'm feeling a little all over the place, wanting to control that which is no longer mine to control. &nbsp; 5 Things I'm Thankful For Today: 1. &nbsp;Faith.&nbsp; 2. &nbsp;Laptops. 3. &nbsp;my favorite new (to me) novelist, Harlan Coben 4. &nbsp;Possibility 5. &nbsp;Contentment. Love to you. &nbsp;: ) mb
I haven't been blogging much at all lately -- I'm sorry for the silence.  Even getting an occasional "tweet" out seems challenging sometimes.  I have a theory though, that in these modern times, we reach out to our virtual communities and hubs when we feel a need to be heard, to find witness.  So either I haven't felt that I've had much to say (except for the dozen tweets and FB entries tonight while hopped up on a white mocha here at Coffee Garden), or that I feel witnessed enough in my daily life that I have been content there lately.  Okay, there's the third option of just facing the fact that having a two-and-a-half year old in your life pretty much draws every spare extra second out of it.  (And replaces them with laughter and sweet insider glances with your honey).  Maybe it's a melange of the three elements....

I've seemed to notice an interesting phenomena about ideas lately -- how they come in an all-encompassing, engulfing flood and then seem to recede all at once too.  I feel so surrounded by possibility that I'm almost drowning, so full of realized visions that I don't want to stop at one.  And other times, the emptiness, the vacuum in me feels as if it's just as complete.  Focus and incentive ebbs and flows in screwed up inverse proportion to time and energy available for exploring a project.  A few times in the past month, I've found myself with a couple hours open unexpectedly, and instead of diving in to something cool and creative and fun and ready to get rolling, I've been unable to catch the spark of intention and excitement  that typically sends me down a specific project path.  Maybe there's a deep "resting of the fields" going on, maybe I need the insistent pressure of a deadline to get all the neurons firing -- I don't know.  Maybe I'm just not very good at forcing myself to do anything.  

I'm thinking a lot about right livelihood, in the Buddhist sense.  What is the purpose and value of my work?  Of anyone's?  What is the right direction of our time and efforts?  Is there a better way than the one I've chosen?  

Sometimes I wipe down the counter and realize it's the fifth time I've done it in a day.  And I find myself extrapolating how many times my mom (and her mom, and hers) did these necessary, repetitive tasks.  I think it's all good -- that we think in different rhythms, sometimes needing the idling time that menial tasks provide in order to work things out -- but still, the over-and-over of it does get to you.  I know I'm not alone.  How many times has Mark watered trees, sorted photos, snow-blown the driveway?  How many patients' eyes has my Dad checked with repetitious precision?  How many gigs have my friends played?  

I'm thinking about space, too.  What does it mean -- the spaces you create around you?  What do they say about us?  How quickly do they reflect what's going on within us?  As houses foreclose around us in the Utah market -- both those of wealthy speculators and working people who got in over their heads -- I'm conflicted, feeling pulled by opportunity and compassion, possibility and warning. . . wondering if it's bad karma to want one of these suddenly more affordable (well, kind of) homes, or a sign to find more contentment in exactly the place I am, to release the sense of striving that is so celebrated in American culture.  

Maybe it's the fall, enhancing a touch of meloncholy.  I know the changing seasons always bring up a sense of accountability for me.  Another autumn here.  The hillsides changing again.  What was I doing last year?  What did I hope to have done by this year?  I had a teacher in high school, Bill Sinon, who once suggested that people who live in four-season climates are more motivated and action-oriented than those in climates with only one general season.  In Hawaii, he said, if you don't do something today, you can do it tomorrow.  You're as likely to have another sunny, comfortable, lovely day as not.  In the midwest, we're pushed along by the seasons, always knowing that winter -- and spring, and summer, and fall -- is just around the corner.  So we move forward, creating deadlines, noting progress.   There are so many projects in my life that are done and out of my hands -- the Crab Cove kids music cd, my book -- that I guess I'm feeling a little all over the place, wanting to control that which is no longer mine to control.  

5 Things I'm Thankful For Today:
1.  Faith. 
2.  Laptops.
3.  my favorite new (to me) novelist, Harlan Coben
4.  Possibility
5.  Contentment.

Love to you.  : )
mb








]]> Thu, 24 Sep 2009 09:00:00 GMT CB8986B2AF6E12925F8B090FA5E0C12E A Few Notes on Motherhood for You, Dena... http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=44894 To My Sister, On the Eve of Your Becoming a First-Time Mother By Mary Beth Maziarz You&rsquo;re just a breath away from this baby arriving. &nbsp;You feel like you have lots of time, but it'll go by in a snap, just like that. &nbsp; *!* I can&rsquo;t know what motherhood will be like for you. &nbsp;Some of us struggle against it as if we&rsquo;ve been suddenly caught in a binding net; some slip into it like a warm, soft sweatshirt that feels finally perfect and easy. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll find your own way. &nbsp;But I&rsquo;m your big sister. &nbsp;And as usual, I&rsquo;ve learned a couple things that I wanted to share. Giving birth hurts, whether traditionally or by c-section, epidural or not. &nbsp;But you&rsquo;ll get over it &ndash; truly, you will. &nbsp;It&rsquo;s weird and chaotic and natural and focused and unbelievable. &nbsp;It&rsquo;s an exhilarating, thrilling rush. &nbsp;It&rsquo;s also exhausting &ndash; some say the most intensely physical experience of a woman&rsquo;s life. &nbsp;In any case, the feeling of that new baby against your skin, that warm, wet, little wriggling pink crying thing, will be worth your incredible efforts, bringing a sense of reward and arrival unlike anything you&rsquo;ve ever felt. You will soon see your husband in new ways, loving him with a deeper connection (and dependence) than you have in the past. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll be touched by his awkwardness at first, perhaps, and when his confidence grows, his pride. You&rsquo;ll love him more than you ever thought possible. &nbsp;You will also discover that he is capable of being far more clueless, insensitive, and LOUD, than you ever imagined. &nbsp;Help bring him in when he feels left out. &nbsp;Try really hard not to criticize his childcare efforts if they're clumsy or just different from yours. &nbsp;It's good to have the balance of &nbsp;both of you, the yin and yang. &nbsp;And remember that he&rsquo;s in a new life, too. &nbsp;His new responsibilities feel different from yours, but they&rsquo;re just as deeply instinctive and just as real. Your friends will offer to do things for you. &nbsp;Let them. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll think that you need to do everything yourself for a while, and this is okay, but eventually the adrenaline and novelty will wear off and those friends who offer to bring you a meal or stop by the store for you will seem like true angels. &nbsp;They are. &nbsp;Accept their generosity and help in the same spirit that you&rsquo;ve given it yourself in the past. Be prepared for your friends without kids to drift a little. &nbsp;This, too, is okay. &nbsp;They care about you, and they will eventually find your child completely charming, but they may not find the gory details of birth, breastfeeding, hemorrhoids, or baby-poop color as riveting as some of your other Mom friends will. &nbsp;If you stay selective with photos, stories, and updates, and they&rsquo;ll be more interested in staying in the loop. Alternately, be prepared to feel a new kinship with other Moms, experienced or new. &nbsp;You&rsquo;re in the club now. You get it. &nbsp;You won&rsquo;t all agree on everything, and you&rsquo;ll discover that there are lots of different approaches to child-rearing, but you&rsquo;ll share a devotion that binds you to other women in a new, almost primal, way. Get ready to see Mom and Dad with completely new respect and admiration. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll find yourself astonished at all the things they made look so easy for so many years. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll understand why they&rsquo;re a little nuts. &nbsp;And why they look tired. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll find yourself especially thankful for Mom and her help when the baby arrives (more than you can even fathom right now). Trust that things will return to normal. &nbsp;Well, a new normal. &nbsp;Your house will come back into order. &nbsp;(Mostly.) &nbsp;The seemingly never-ending, gargantuan laundry piles will recede. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll have time to shower regularly, allowing you to once again smell nice and look presentable. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll eventually be able to run to the grocery store or Starbucks without it being a grand production. &nbsp; You'll someday read a magazine again.&nbsp; Your body will return to its familiar self. &nbsp;(You&rsquo;ll both miss the boobs). &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll sleep. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll have sex. &nbsp;(Okay, probably less, but you will have it.) &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll remember who you are. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll contribute to society beyond fulfilling the needs of this demanding little bundle. You&rsquo;ll work harder at this than you ever have in your life at anything. &nbsp;It will seem impossible at times, ridiculous and beyond comprehension. &nbsp;You will seriously ponder how the world moves forward, how people choose to have new children all the time, how whole families live in tiny two-bedroom apartments in New York. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll wonder how idiots do this, how people ever consider having more than one child, how parents of multiples possibly manage (which you once thought sounded like fun). It&rsquo;ll also feel more natural and instinctive than you know. &nbsp;And your baby&rsquo;s face will be the best show in town. You&rsquo;ll find yourself looking at him or her with distractingly absorbing fascination. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll watch the child sleep, cry, wiggle, eat, and every moment will be full of emotion and a love different from the love you&rsquo;ve known until now. &nbsp;It will feel like your privilege to make sure this child is warm and fed and clean and kicking with delight. &nbsp;You will feel gratitude and attachment, and sometimes even fear, or fierce protectiveness, that is shocking at times in its intensity. &nbsp;You will love this kid like nobody's business. &nbsp;And the child will love you back. &nbsp;Little arms reaching out to you will be like coming home. &nbsp;You'll wish that he or she would sleep on your chest forever in this warm little content &nbsp;bundle. &nbsp;You'll feel both powerful and small at once. &nbsp; You'll want to do everything right. &nbsp;You'll want to be a better person, so that you can raise a better person in this little one. &nbsp;You'll suddenly care a lot more about recycling, hormones in the milk, clean water, and other stuff affecting the state of the planet. &nbsp;You'll find yourself wanting to make the earth a beautiful, safe place for your child and all other children for a long time, not just your stay here. &nbsp; Motherhood has a way of getting both easier and more demanding by the day. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll sometimes look back with nostalgia and longing for the stages just passed, suddenly realizing that there were elements you should have savored while you could. &nbsp;You&rsquo;ll mean to write things down or take more pictures or movies or remember, remember, dammit! but it&rsquo;s hard to do it all. &nbsp;Do the best you can. Actually, that&rsquo;s a good policy for all of it. &nbsp; Just do the best you can. You&rsquo;re going to be great. Good luck, babe. The fun is just beginning. To My Sister, On the Eve of Your Becoming a First-Time Mother By Mary Beth Maziarz

You’re just a breath away from this baby arriving.  You feel like you have lots of time, but it'll go by in a snap, just like that.   *!*

I can’t know what motherhood will be like for you.  Some of us struggle against it as if we’ve been suddenly caught in a binding net; some slip into it like a warm, soft sweatshirt that feels finally perfect and easy.  You’ll find your own way.  But I’m your big sister.  And as usual, I’ve learned a couple things that I wanted to share.

Giving birth hurts, whether traditionally or by c-section, epidural or not.  But you’ll get over it – truly, you will.  It’s weird and chaotic and natural and focused and unbelievable.  It’s an exhilarating, thrilling rush.  It’s also exhausting – some say the most intensely physical experience of a woman’s life.  In any case, the feeling of that new baby against your skin, that warm, wet, little wriggling pink crying thing, will be worth your incredible efforts, bringing a sense of reward and arrival unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

You will soon see your husband in new ways, loving him with a deeper connection (and dependence) than you have in the past.  You’ll be touched by his awkwardness at first, perhaps, and when his confidence grows, his pride. You’ll love him more than you ever thought possible.  You will also discover that he is capable of being far more clueless, insensitive, and LOUD, than you ever imagined.  Help bring him in when he feels left out.  Try really hard not to criticize his childcare efforts if they're clumsy or just different from yours.  It's good to have the balance of  both of you, the yin and yang.  And remember that he’s in a new life, too.  His new responsibilities feel different from yours, but they’re just as deeply instinctive and just as real.

Your friends will offer to do things for you.  Let them.  You’ll think that you need to do everything yourself for a while, and this is okay, but eventually the adrenaline and novelty will wear off and those friends who offer to bring you a meal or stop by the store for you will seem like true angels.  They are.  Accept their generosity and help in the same spirit that you’ve given it yourself in the past.

Be prepared for your friends without kids to drift a little.  This, too, is okay.  They care about you, and they will eventually find your child completely charming, but they may not find the gory details of birth, breastfeeding, hemorrhoids, or baby-poop color as riveting as some of your other Mom friends will.  If you stay selective with photos, stories, and updates, and they’ll be more interested in staying in the loop.

Alternately, be prepared to feel a new kinship with other Moms, experienced or new.  You’re in the club now. You get it.  You won’t all agree on everything, and you’ll discover that there are lots of different approaches to child-rearing, but you’ll share a devotion that binds you to other women in a new, almost primal, way.

Get ready to see Mom and Dad with completely new respect and admiration.  You’ll find yourself astonished at all the things they made look so easy for so many years.  You’ll understand why they’re a little nuts.  And why they look tired.  You’ll find yourself especially thankful for Mom and her help when the baby arrives (more than you can even fathom right now).

Trust that things will return to normal.  Well, a new normal.  Your house will come back into order.  (Mostly.)  The seemingly never-ending, gargantuan laundry piles will recede.  You’ll have time to shower regularly, allowing you to once again smell nice and look presentable.  You’ll eventually be able to run to the grocery store or Starbucks without it being a grand production.   You'll someday read a magazine again. 

Your body will return to its familiar self.  (You’ll both miss the boobs).  You’ll sleep.  You’ll have sex.  (Okay, probably less, but you will have it.)  You’ll remember who you are.  You’ll contribute to society beyond fulfilling the needs of this demanding little bundle.

You’ll work harder at this than you ever have in your life at anything.  It will seem impossible at times, ridiculous and beyond comprehension.  You will seriously ponder how the world moves forward, how people choose to have new children all the time, how whole families live in tiny two-bedroom apartments in New York.  You’ll wonder how idiots do this, how people ever consider having more than one child, how parents of multiples possibly manage (which you once thought sounded like fun).

It’ll also feel more natural and instinctive than you know.  And your baby’s face will be the best show in town. You’ll find yourself looking at him or her with distractingly absorbing fascination.  You’ll watch the child sleep, cry, wiggle, eat, and every moment will be full of emotion and a love different from the love you’ve known until now.  It will feel like your privilege to make sure this child is warm and fed and clean and kicking with delight.  You will feel gratitude and attachment, and sometimes even fear, or fierce protectiveness, that is shocking at times in its intensity.  You will love this kid like nobody's business.  And the child will love you back.  Little arms reaching out to you will be like coming home.  You'll wish that he or she would sleep on your chest forever in this warm little content  bundle.  You'll feel both powerful and small at once.  

You'll want to do everything right.  You'll want to be a better person, so that you can raise a better person in this little one.  You'll suddenly care a lot more about recycling, hormones in the milk, clean water, and other stuff affecting the state of the planet.  You'll find yourself wanting to make the earth a beautiful, safe place for your child and all other children for a long time, not just your stay here.  

Motherhood has a way of getting both easier and more demanding by the day.  You’ll sometimes look back with nostalgia and longing for the stages just passed, suddenly realizing that there were elements you should have savored while you could.  You’ll mean to write things down or take more pictures or movies or remember, remember, dammit! but it’s hard to do it all.  Do the best you can.

Actually, that’s a good policy for all of it.   Just do the best you can.

You’re going to be great.
Good luck, babe. The fun is just beginning.









]]> Mon, 08 Jun 2009 14:20:00 GMT 9B0B726D1B583D9FD74211B32E8A39D2 Girl's Search for Meaning http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=32973 I am wondering what it all means. I am working on my book, trying to weave together so many thoughts and concepts and stories into something that I very much hope makes sense and will help others in some significant way. &nbsp; I am thinking about Christmastime and family, fullness, the difference between childhood magic and the adult kind. &nbsp;I'm thinking about the winter Solstice that happened on such a blizzardous day last month and the intentions that I wasn't able to make/share that day, and haven't been sure about making or sharing since. &nbsp; My days are full. &nbsp;I&nbsp;rush around tidying the house as Daisy naps, trying to complete basic business tasks and household maintenance before I wind down like a clock in the early evening. &nbsp;I visit with good friends, delight in Daisy's daily new words and discoveries and abilities, nuzzle with Mark, watch the snow fall. &nbsp;I use the internet as a portal to things I might acquire, learn about, investigate, confirm. &nbsp;It's a nice window to other worlds. &nbsp;I play the piano for stolen moments -- Daisy dances or edges me out of my bench seat so that she, the rightful player, can take her spot and tap the big piano keys with her tiny fingers. &nbsp; I keep in touch with family members as well as I can, laughing and sharing when I can, trying to keep the edge of impatience out of my voice if they call at an inconvenient time or with a tone in their voice that feels like it will soon expand into something too heavy for me to carry. &nbsp; I try to keep up with myself, what I'm thinking, where I'm going, what I want, what I can give, how I can serve. &nbsp;I hope I'm self-aware, but like anyone, how can I really know? &nbsp;It's so much easier to see the (supposedly) faulty trajectories or missing pieces in others than in myself. &nbsp;I am certain I am denser than I know sometimes. &nbsp;I pray that I will see the fuller story in the situations around me. &nbsp; I am noticing how much of my life is driven by some sort of ego-payoff. . . how much energy have I spent (wasted?) on activities or things or titles to make me feel that I matter, that what I do or am or contribute has value? &nbsp;How would my being or actions or contributions change without this concern or awareness? &nbsp; Does music really mean anything? &nbsp;Does writing? &nbsp; Do the benefits of wealth really give one anything of value?&nbsp; Does a beautiful surrounding or body or eyeshadow change one's life? I believe in love. &nbsp;Is love really all there is? &nbsp;Is the rest flavoring? &nbsp;&nbsp; I think working on my creativity book in such detail and focus is making me a little bit nuts, which is okay. &nbsp;Quite a few of my most admired creative spirits lean into the out-there realm from time to time for sure. &nbsp;I wonder if this existential funk/curiosity I'm in is a result of trying to detach from the inevitable result of whatever the response to the book will be. &nbsp;Huge, delightful impact? &nbsp;Nobody giving a damn at all? &nbsp;Somewhere in the middle? &nbsp;Maybe I am nervous and telling myself that nothing matters feels better than admitting that this (perhaps silly) thing matters quite a lot to me. &nbsp; I hope you are all out there enjoying the crest of the new year. &nbsp; If YOU have it figured out, please do tell. &nbsp; I sense there are answers, there is meaning. &nbsp;I just am less and less sure of what it is.... xo, mb
I am working on my book, trying to weave together so many thoughts and concepts and stories into something that I very much hope makes sense and will help others in some significant way.   I am thinking about Christmastime and family, fullness, the difference between childhood magic and the adult kind.  I'm thinking about the winter Solstice that happened on such a blizzardous day last month and the intentions that I wasn't able to make/share that day, and haven't been sure about making or sharing since.  

My days are full.  I rush around tidying the house as Daisy naps, trying to complete basic business tasks and household maintenance before I wind down like a clock in the early evening.  I visit with good friends, delight in Daisy's daily new words and discoveries and abilities, nuzzle with Mark, watch the snow fall.  I use the internet as a portal to things I might acquire, learn about, investigate, confirm.  It's a nice window to other worlds.  I play the piano for stolen moments -- Daisy dances or edges me out of my bench seat so that she, the rightful player, can take her spot and tap the big piano keys with her tiny fingers.  

I keep in touch with family members as well as I can, laughing and sharing when I can, trying to keep the edge of impatience out of my voice if they call at an inconvenient time or with a tone in their voice that feels like it will soon expand into something too heavy for me to carry.  

I try to keep up with myself, what I'm thinking, where I'm going, what I want, what I can give, how I can serve.  I hope I'm self-aware, but like anyone, how can I really know?  It's so much easier to see the (supposedly) faulty trajectories or missing pieces in others than in myself.  I am certain I am denser than I know sometimes.  I pray that I will see the fuller story in the situations around me.  

I am noticing how much of my life is driven by some sort of ego-payoff. . . how much energy have I spent (wasted?) on activities or things or titles to make me feel that I matter, that what I do or am or contribute has value?  How would my being or actions or contributions change without this concern or awareness?  

Does music really mean anything?  Does writing?  
Do the benefits of wealth really give one anything of value? 
Does a beautiful surrounding or body or eyeshadow change one's life?
I believe in love.  Is love really all there is?  Is the rest flavoring?   

I think working on my creativity book in such detail and focus is making me a little bit nuts, which is okay.  Quite a few of my most admired creative spirits lean into the out-there realm from time to time for sure.  I wonder if this existential funk/curiosity I'm in is a result of trying to detach from the inevitable result of whatever the response to the book will be.  Huge, delightful impact?  Nobody giving a damn at all?  Somewhere in the middle?  Maybe I am nervous and telling myself that nothing matters feels better than admitting that this (perhaps silly) thing matters quite a lot to me.  

I hope you are all out there enjoying the crest of the new year.   If YOU have it figured out, please do tell.   I sense there are answers, there is meaning.  I just am less and less sure of what it is....

xo,
mb]]> Thu, 08 Jan 2009 07:20:00 GMT FF45AEEBB0A6EE725B1A7FD9AF2D54E1 More Good Things http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=32021 One of the chapters I'm working on for my upcoming book highlights the power of gratitude and good-vibe lists as a tool for increasing your creative flow and pulling out of resistance, funks. &nbsp; I believe the lists we keep define us in some way or another. &nbsp; Here's mine from today. &nbsp; Good things: &nbsp; Wordle's Word Cloud program that arranges text in graphic, cool ways Time Balm concealer from Sephora Jill's exciting writing project for Moms Gincy's GrandDad's eggnog (and...Christmas parties that supply babysitters in the basement) Dena's sweet package of darling outfits for Daisy The Mission soundtrack The as-seen-on-TV Tobi steamer -- it works! Flannel sheets&nbsp; Whisky class at Coopers on Friday -- turns out I'm not the single malt girl I imagined. &nbsp;And Scotch can taste like ash. My Amazon Kindle and the forty-some book samples I have on it at the moment Jason's new project (Shrek - The Musical) that opened this weekend on Broadway Fun iPhone apps that make the camera better A full 'House M.D.' folder on Tivo Being in touch with old friends through Facebook, some I haven't seen since h.s. graduation Sparkly diamond earrings (okay... &quot;diamonique&quot;) Feeling inspired to write a (sad) song about Christmas Kilts! White chocolate lattes February getaway plans Very nice parents and in-laws Recovering stock prices (I can imagine good things, as well as experience them) Daisy's exploding verbal skills, today: &nbsp;purse! &nbsp;bat-tub! &nbsp;pee-low! &nbsp;socks! &nbsp;bock-ly! &nbsp;stawby! &nbsp;owside! &nbsp; Great Thai food Feeling like there's plenty of everything -- money, time, energy, delight, inspiration Excellent snow tires Progress on the house -- getting things done! &nbsp;yay! An unexpected day to write Hotel-like new drapes that block out the morning sun Caring counsel from my professional colleagues Mom friends who admit they'd like to take a holiday ride on &quot;The Vodka Express&quot; The visual thesaurus website/program Amy Poehler on SNL. &nbsp;We'll miss you, Amy. Being all caught up. &nbsp; with anything. LipFusion lipgloss in Blush Seeing Sarah the other night so healthy and happy Cool delicious water when I'm thirsty Seat warmers in the Outback Darkness when I'm tired Brightness when I seek clarity Quiet when I'm overwhelmed Flow when I can put it into form Connection when I'm lonely Opportunity when I'm ready Generosity when I need it, or can give it Perspective when I'm distraught Peace, wherever I can find it, every day Thank you for the Good Things you all bring to me, share with me. &nbsp; xo mb
Here's mine from today.  

Good things:  
Wordle's Word Cloud program that arranges text in graphic, cool ways
Time Balm concealer from Sephora
Jill's exciting writing project for Moms
Gincy's GrandDad's eggnog
(and...Christmas parties that supply babysitters in the basement)
Dena's sweet package of darling outfits for Daisy
The Mission soundtrack
The as-seen-on-TV Tobi steamer -- it works!
Flannel sheets 
Whisky class at Coopers on Friday -- turns out I'm not the single malt girl I imagined.  And Scotch can taste like ash.
My Amazon Kindle and the forty-some book samples I have on it at the moment
Jason's new project (Shrek - The Musical) that opened this weekend on Broadway
Fun iPhone apps that make the camera better
A full 'House M.D.' folder on Tivo
Being in touch with old friends through Facebook, some I haven't seen since h.s. graduation
Sparkly diamond earrings (okay... "diamonique")
Feeling inspired to write a (sad) song about Christmas
Kilts!
White chocolate lattes
February getaway plans
Very nice parents and in-laws
Recovering stock prices (I can imagine good things, as well as experience them)
Daisy's exploding verbal skills, today:  purse!  bat-tub!  pee-low!  socks!  bock-ly!  stawby!  owside!  
Great Thai food
Feeling like there's plenty of everything -- money, time, energy, delight, inspiration
Excellent snow tires
Progress on the house -- getting things done!  yay!
An unexpected day to write
Hotel-like new drapes that block out the morning sun
Caring counsel from my professional colleagues
Mom friends who admit they'd like to take a holiday ride on "The Vodka Express"
The visual thesaurus website/program
Amy Poehler on SNL.  We'll miss you, Amy.
Being all caught up.   with anything.
LipFusion lipgloss in Blush
Seeing Sarah the other night so healthy and happy
Cool delicious water when I'm thirsty
Seat warmers in the Outback

Darkness when I'm tired
Brightness when I seek clarity
Quiet when I'm overwhelmed
Flow when I can put it into form
Connection when I'm lonely
Opportunity when I'm ready
Generosity when I need it, or can give it
Perspective when I'm distraught
Peace, wherever I can find it, every day

Thank you for the Good Things you all bring to me, share with me.  

xo
mb
















]]> Mon, 15 Dec 2008 11:05:00 GMT 22DB0647438B1C58F9EE0CF650DC1558 Looking for stories for my book... http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=31320 Hello there, creative folks and artists -- I've been working on a book for a while now about creativity and the Law of Attraction. &nbsp;It's been a lot of fun and very exciting, but fairly solitary (except for the nice people who work in the coffee places or libraries where I tend to write). &nbsp;I'd love to have you, my community, become involved if you're interested. &nbsp; If you have a story about how you successfully applied the Law of Attraction to a facet of your creative work, I'd love to consider it for an artist profile in the book. &nbsp;The most helpful way to break it down would be to briefly share: 1) what wasn't working 2) what you did / what approaches you specifically used 3) what happened That's all there is to it. &nbsp;If it feels like it might be a good fit for the project, I'll be in touch for some more details. &nbsp; OR, if you saw &quot;The Secret&quot; or have read some of the other Law of Attraction materials out there, maybe you've tried to apply some LOA techniques and not had the results you hoped for. &nbsp;In this case, please send me your questions about your specific situation, and I'll see I can work it into the Q&amp;A section of the book. Thanks everybody -- I'm already looking forward to hearing your stories! Best wishes,&nbsp; mb ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Five Things I'm Thankful For Today: 1) Mark's Mom and Dad being so wonderfully helpful with Daisy.&nbsp; 2) The Daly house feeling so warm and snuggly. 3) Our penne-with-vodka-sauce dinner that is going to be awesome, I think 4) My cute, cozy new black turtleneck&nbsp; 5) The sweet movies we took of Daisy on Thanksgiving 6) That Mark's movie will premiere at the Local's Short Film Festival at the Jim Santy on Wednesday night. &nbsp;It's free! &nbsp;
I've been working on a book for a while now about creativity and the Law of Attraction.  It's been a lot of fun and very exciting, but fairly solitary (except for the nice people who work in the coffee places or libraries where I tend to write).  I'd love to have you, my community, become involved if you're interested.  

If you have a story about how you successfully applied the Law of Attraction to a facet of your creative work, I'd love to consider it for an artist profile in the book.  The most helpful way to break it down would be to briefly share:

1) what wasn't working
2) what you did / what approaches you specifically used
3) what happened

That's all there is to it.  If it feels like it might be a good fit for the project, I'll be in touch for some more details.  

OR, if you saw "The Secret" or have read some of the other Law of Attraction materials out there, maybe you've tried to apply some LOA techniques and not had the results you hoped for.  In this case, please send me your questions about your specific situation, and I'll see I can work it into the Q&A section of the book.

Thanks everybody -- I'm already looking forward to hearing your stories!
Best wishes, 
mb

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five Things I'm Thankful For Today:

1) Mark's Mom and Dad being so wonderfully helpful with Daisy. 
2) The Daly house feeling so warm and snuggly.
3) Our penne-with-vodka-sauce dinner that is going to be awesome, I think
4) My cute, cozy new black turtleneck 
5) The sweet movies we took of Daisy on Thanksgiving
6) That Mark's movie will premiere at the Local's Short Film Festival at the Jim Santy on Wednesday night.  It's free!
 ]]> Mon, 01 Dec 2008 05:15:14 GMT BA0A295A8961FD29124FD1BC9D215667 "The Time-change of Motherhood" http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=30575 [I got a last-minute email from my friend, artist and writer Kindra Fehr, awhile back, asking other Moms if they would help with a column she was writing about the meanings/interpretations of parenthood. &nbsp;This was my reply. &nbsp;It appeared in Catalyst Magazine. &nbsp;I know it doesn't exactly fit into the typical vibe of this blog, but having and raising children is inherently creative, and it is on my mind so much, so I hope you will indulge me. &nbsp;Thanks!] * * *&nbsp; I feel a distinct compression of time these days...time I used to spend languidly sleeping or wandering the aisles at Wild Oats or Barnes and Noble is now punctuated by my awareness of this tiny person. Sometimes she needs me; sometimes I just find myself less able to float in my own world because I now have this little moon in my life. It also means experiencing that time compression in her growth. As Lowen &amp; Navarro said in one of their songs, &ldquo;the days go by so slowly, but the years go by so fast.&rdquo; It&rsquo;s like that. She&rsquo;s suddenly 18 months old and all those long stretches between the end of her afternoon nap and putting her down to bed have crunched right down to a year and a half that&rsquo;s flashed by in what feels like a minute. My life experiences have become mp3s instead of records. I&rsquo;m more aware of lifespan and energy (the get-out-of-bed kind, not the law-of-attraction/reiki kind, though I think about that too). &nbsp;Will my parents know Daisy as a young woman? &nbsp;Will Mark and I be as energetic and enthusiastic and passionate about life as we feel now when she is beginning her adult journey? &nbsp;Will we look old and wrinkly and not cool (or God forbid, old people trying to be too cool)? &nbsp;Will she make it through all the bizarre choices we make as children and teenagers to a healthy grown-up life? &nbsp;Hope doesn&rsquo;t even come close to describing what I feel here. I think about how I spend the time I have with Daisy. &nbsp;Am I teaching her enough or the right things? &nbsp;I hope I am making the most of our hours and moments with her at this young age. &nbsp;I hope I will be able to grow with her and offer her the best parts of my Mom&rsquo;s mothering of me as her birthright. &nbsp;I hope I will somehow avoid the weirdness between mothers and daughters that comes at adolescence, but still remain her parent and protector. &nbsp;I think 50 times a day about how she might be at age 3 or 7 or 10 or 30. I wonder if I passed away today if she would remember me at all. &nbsp;I wonder at what she may teach me someday. Being a mother means surrendering to the changing face of time. Catalyst Magazine.  I know it doesn't exactly fit into the typical vibe of this blog, but having and raising children is inherently creative, and it is on my mind so much, so I hope you will indulge me.  Thanks!]

* * * 

I feel a distinct compression of time these days...time I used to spend languidly sleeping or wandering the aisles at Wild Oats or Barnes and Noble is now punctuated by my awareness of this tiny person. Sometimes she needs me; sometimes I just find myself less able to float in my own world because I now have this little moon in my life.

It also means experiencing that time compression in her growth. As Lowen & Navarro said in one of their songs, “the days go by so slowly, but the years go by so fast.” It’s like that. She’s suddenly 18 months old and all those long stretches between the end of her afternoon nap and putting her down to bed have crunched right down to a year and a half that’s flashed by in what feels like a minute. My life experiences have become mp3s instead of records.

I’m more aware of lifespan and energy (the get-out-of-bed kind, not the law-of-attraction/reiki kind, though I think about that too).  Will my parents know Daisy as a young woman?  Will Mark and I be as energetic and enthusiastic and passionate about life as we feel now when she is beginning her adult journey?  Will we look old and wrinkly and not cool (or God forbid, old people trying to be too cool)?  Will she make it through all the bizarre choices we make as children and teenagers to a healthy grown-up life?  Hope doesn’t even come close to describing what I feel here.

I think about how I spend the time I have with Daisy.  Am I teaching her enough or the right things?  I hope I am making the most of our hours and moments with her at this young age.  I hope I will be able to grow with her and offer her the best parts of my Mom’s mothering of me as her birthright.  I hope I will somehow avoid the weirdness between mothers and daughters that comes at adolescence, but still remain her parent and protector.  I think 50 times a day about how she might be at age 3 or 7 or 10 or 30.

I wonder if I passed away today if she would remember me at all.  I wonder at what she may teach me someday.

Being a mother means surrendering to the changing face of time.


]]> Fri, 03 Oct 2008 22:05:00 GMT D63F431A712F3E199CCFEDAF3DF21875 Yesterday's show at Miner's Park http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=25429 &nbsp;Hi Everybody! Thanks for the great turnout yesterday at the Miner's Park show in Park City. &nbsp;It was the first show of the season for me and seeing so many familiar and new faces really made me feel great. &nbsp; Tres Wilson played an early set... loved his Weezer/Cake vibe and low-intensity delivery. For more info on Tres, check out his myspace site: &nbsp;<a target="_new" href="http://www.myspace.com/treswilson">www.myspace.com/treswilson. &nbsp; Now that several of our friends have kids, it's like we're charting time by their growth (and acoutrements). &nbsp;Last summer's shows were decorated with strollers and nursing apron things and little squeals or squeaks from the babies. &nbsp;This year we're all wrangling toddlers and quieting full-on wails when these little beings have needs to be met. &nbsp;Daisy took her rightful place on stage yesterday for a brief turn; &nbsp;our little Aries couldn't resist climbing right up to be part of the action up front. &nbsp;I sense we'll be a 'family act' before we know it. &nbsp;(Not really -- although my sisters and I REALLY wanted to be the VonTrapps when we were kids.) Here's a list of the songs I played yesterday -- (btw, &nbsp;if I missed any, please write and let me know): My Deep Blue Love For You, Two Satellites, Better Than Anyone, Deeper Love, Long Long Time (By Gary White), Better, &nbsp;Lonesome in Love, Goin' On, Circle of Desire, 'Til Then, This Too Shall Pass (not yet recorded), Hold On, Someone Still Believes in You, Simpatico, Daydream Believer (by John Stewart), This Is Our Life Big thank yous to all the people who bought CDs and signed up for the mailing list (or have already stopped by to visit the new site here). &nbsp;I really &quot;appreciate you!&quot; as is said here in Utah. &nbsp; Next Show: &nbsp;Saturday, July 19th at The Homestead Resort in Midway, UT. &nbsp;(Free, picnics and drinks allowed). &nbsp; &nbsp;More info on our <a target="_new" href="./calendar.cfm">calendar. &nbsp;Hope to see you there! &nbsp; (Oh! As well as the possibility of staying at The Homestead itself, &nbsp;rumor has it that there are some good rates running at the beautiful Zermatt Resort across the road for those who might want to make a little overnight out of it. &nbsp;Good idea. &nbsp;We might have to do that.) See pix from yesterday in our <a target="_new" href="./pixgalleries.cfm">gallery. &nbsp;Maybe you'll see your gorgeous self! Thanks and best wishes! mb
Thanks for the great turnout yesterday at the Miner's Park show in Park City.  It was the first show of the season for me and seeing so many familiar and new faces really made me feel great.  

Tres Wilson played an early set... loved his Weezer/Cake vibe and low-intensity delivery. For more info on Tres, check out his myspace site:  www.myspace.com/treswilson.  

Now that several of our friends have kids, it's like we're charting time by their growth (and acoutrements).  Last summer's shows were decorated with strollers and nursing apron things and little squeals or squeaks from the babies.  This year we're all wrangling toddlers and quieting full-on wails when these little beings have needs to be met.  Daisy took her rightful place on stage yesterday for a brief turn;  our little Aries couldn't resist climbing right up to be part of the action up front.  I sense we'll be a 'family act' before we know it.  (Not really -- although my sisters and I REALLY wanted to be the VonTrapps when we were kids.)

Here's a list of the songs I played yesterday --
(btw,  if I missed any, please write and let me know):
My Deep Blue Love For You, Two Satellites, Better Than Anyone, Deeper Love, Long Long Time (By Gary White), Better,  Lonesome in Love, Goin' On, Circle of Desire, 'Til Then, This Too Shall Pass (not yet recorded), Hold On, Someone Still Believes in You, Simpatico, Daydream Believer (by John Stewart), This Is Our Life

Big thank yous to all the people who bought CDs and signed up for the mailing list (or have already stopped by to visit the new site here).  I really "appreciate you!" as is said here in Utah.  

Next Show:  Saturday, July 19th at The Homestead Resort in Midway, UT.  (Free, picnics and drinks allowed).    More info on our calendar.  Hope to see you there!   (Oh! As well as the possibility of staying at The Homestead itself,  rumor has it that there are some good rates running at the beautiful Zermatt Resort across the road for those who might want to make a little overnight out of it.  Good idea.  We might have to do that.)

See pix from yesterday in our gallery.  Maybe you'll see your gorgeous self!

Thanks and best wishes!
mb]]> Mon, 07 Jul 2008 22:25:06 GMT 7B96CA093DC596B2397B7E7E6B35D189 Lilac Season http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=25108 They've already peaked, I think -- the lilacs -- and I miss them already. &nbsp; Scent holds such a special ability to jog us back to other places, other times, doesn't it? For me it feels almost like a shortcut to other selves. &nbsp;The smell of Molding Mud hair stuff makes me think of when my hair was short and Mark and I had just met and the summer was full of new love and possibility. Chlorine and popsicles bring me back to Molly's pool in the summer, her brown as a bear, me freckled and pink, diving and swimming until we were beyond tired. &nbsp;Lilies of the valley remind me of the little street near Jodie Hoffman's house where they grew crazily, tripping over each other with their perfect little intoxicating droplet flowers...we had big dreams, Jodie and I, ready to make our millions by sewing up gifts to sell at craft bazaars. &nbsp;(We made exactly two before busting her mom's sewing machine). &nbsp; And lilacs make me think of riding the bus to school in the springtime, with other kids -- those lucky ones with lilac bushes in their yards! -- bringing lilac cuttings for the teachers...big gorgeous bunches, wrapped in wet paper towels and aluminum foil to keep the flowers happy until we got to St. Columba. &nbsp; &nbsp; Here in Utah, lilac season is short. &nbsp; It starts late, probably due to our tendency for early summer snow snaps, and ends early, probably due to the super dry climate. &nbsp;One year we went back to Chicago for a long visit -- well, a couple weeks -- and returned and we'd missed it. &nbsp;The lilac season had come and gone without a whiff. &nbsp;I lurked around the neighbors' withering bushes, deeply inhaling, hoping for lingering bit of the magic lilac smell, but it wasn't the same. &nbsp;The moment had gone. &nbsp; People know of my love for lilacs, and several good hearts have planted me lilacs over the years (mostly to keep me from furtively stealing lilacs from wherever I could reach them and get away clean). &nbsp;My sister Laura planted two sweet bushes outside our rental house after living with me for a summer when she was 14. &nbsp;It ached me to leave them and their aromatic potential when I moved six months later. &nbsp;Mark planted one up at the cabin, sheltering it with bricks to protect it from the harsh elements on the windy, dusty hillside. &nbsp;Several years old now, that little-lilac-that-could is still under a foot tall. &nbsp;But it's alive, which is more than we'd hoped at one point. &nbsp;Now we have a spindly (but productive) one on our deck, and there's a big bushy tree outside our house in old town. &nbsp;I can't help but notice that the blooms on the lower bushes seem to have gone missing more by the day. &nbsp;I imagine young girls passing by, helpless to the sweet scent, helping themselves. &nbsp;I am sure I'm experiencing floral karma. &nbsp; I think about why lilacs feel so special to me. &nbsp;(Surely it's not just those heady busrides.) &nbsp;I sense it's more about brevity and opportunity. &nbsp;Each day of late spring, I find myself watching the lilac bushes. &nbsp;Is today the day? &nbsp;I wonder. &nbsp;Are they blooming yet? &nbsp;Are they fully fragrant? &nbsp;Can I cut some for the house? Should I? &nbsp;Does that hurt the tree or help it? &nbsp;Should I wait another day? &nbsp; For a brief period I understand what my Dad and Mark and Lillian must experience as they tend to the multitude of plants under their care...there is a running awareness under the busyness of my daily tasks asking that I pay attention to what's happening in this little piece of nature. &nbsp;(Ruined by a poorly planned and executed &quot;morning glory&quot; experiment as an 11-year-old and a number of desperate-looking houseplants in my twenties, &nbsp;I have come to believe that I'm not meant to steward green things. &nbsp;But perhaps this is my small shaft of light in the direction of progress.)&nbsp; So what does this all possibly have to do with music, and art, and meaning? Maybe it's about being present and watchful for when inspiration begins to bloom. Perhaps we need to be vigilant when the sweet wafts of freshness drift into our lives, more ready than we are to take the moment and drop everything else and do it! &nbsp;Cut the gorgeous ideas loose from the bunches of other bouncing ideas and bring them into our houses. &nbsp;Allow them to open and change our environment and mood. &nbsp; Perhaps it's about trusting that the timing is right enough, not always waiting until a moment has passed in order to recognize its perfection. &nbsp; And, if we realize that we've missed it -- a window of opportunity or inspiration has somehow now suddenly closed on us -- maybe the lesson is to believe that there will be another chance next season. &nbsp; Maybe, like lilacs, great/beautiful/amazing ideas can be brief, intoxicating, captivating; and the bunches on our neighbors' bush can look so much more abundant and gorgeous than our own. &nbsp; Our job is to notice them, cut them when we (and they) are ready, and enjoy them for all they have to offer. &nbsp;And maybe share some with the neighbors or our teachers.&nbsp; ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 5 Things I'm Thankful For Today: 1. &nbsp;That Chet and Lillian are here and Daisy's having so much fun. 2. &nbsp;Beautiful pinot gris from Oregon 3. &nbsp;The community of people who loved Krys so much and so well 4. &nbsp;The Law and Order marathon that's been running on USA all week 5. &nbsp;That the Crab Cove project is getting close! to release :-)
Scent holds such a special ability to jog us back to other places, other times, doesn't it? For me it feels almost like a shortcut to other selves.  The smell of Molding Mud hair stuff makes me think of when my hair was short and Mark and I had just met and the summer was full of new love and possibility. Chlorine and popsicles bring me back to Molly's pool in the summer, her brown as a bear, me freckled and pink, diving and swimming until we were beyond tired.  Lilies of the valley remind me of the little street near Jodie Hoffman's house where they grew crazily, tripping over each other with their perfect little intoxicating droplet flowers...we had big dreams, Jodie and I, ready to make our millions by sewing up gifts to sell at craft bazaars.  (We made exactly two before busting her mom's sewing machine).   And lilacs make me think of riding the bus to school in the springtime, with other kids -- those lucky ones with lilac bushes in their yards! -- bringing lilac cuttings for the teachers...big gorgeous bunches, wrapped in wet paper towels and aluminum foil to keep the flowers happy until we got to St. Columba.    

Here in Utah, lilac season is short.   It starts late, probably due to our tendency for early summer snow snaps, and ends early, probably due to the super dry climate.  One year we went back to Chicago for a long visit -- well, a couple weeks -- and returned and we'd missed it.  The lilac season had come and gone without a whiff.  I lurked around the neighbors' withering bushes, deeply inhaling, hoping for lingering bit of the magic lilac smell, but it wasn't the same.  The moment had gone.  

People know of my love for lilacs, and several good hearts have planted me lilacs over the years (mostly to keep me from furtively stealing lilacs from wherever I could reach them and get away clean).  My sister Laura planted two sweet bushes outside our rental house after living with me for a summer when she was 14.  It ached me to leave them and their aromatic potential when I moved six months later.  Mark planted one up at the cabin, sheltering it with bricks to protect it from the harsh elements on the windy, dusty hillside.  Several years old now, that little-lilac-that-could is still under a foot tall.  But it's alive, which is more than we'd hoped at one point.  Now we have a spindly (but productive) one on our deck, and there's a big bushy tree outside our house in old town.  I can't help but notice that the blooms on the lower bushes seem to have gone missing more by the day.  I imagine young girls passing by, helpless to the sweet scent, helping themselves.  I am sure I'm experiencing floral karma.  

I think about why lilacs feel so special to me.  (Surely it's not just those heady busrides.)  I sense it's more about brevity and opportunity.  Each day of late spring, I find myself watching the lilac bushes.  Is today the day?  I wonder.  Are they blooming yet?  Are they fully fragrant?  Can I cut some for the house? Should I?  Does that hurt the tree or help it?  Should I wait another day?  

For a brief period I understand what my Dad and Mark and Lillian must experience as they tend to the multitude of plants under their care...there is a running awareness under the busyness of my daily tasks asking that I pay attention to what's happening in this little piece of nature.  (Ruined by a poorly planned and executed "morning glory" experiment as an 11-year-old and a number of desperate-looking houseplants in my twenties,  I have come to believe that I'm not meant to steward green things.  But perhaps this is my small shaft of light in the direction of progress.) 

So what does this all possibly have to do with music, and art, and meaning?

Maybe it's about being present and watchful for when inspiration begins to bloom. Perhaps we need to be vigilant when the sweet wafts of freshness drift into our lives, more ready than we are to take the moment and drop everything else and do it!  Cut the gorgeous ideas loose from the bunches of other bouncing ideas and bring them into our houses.  Allow them to open and change our environment and mood.  

Perhaps it's about trusting that the timing is right enough, not always waiting until a moment has passed in order to recognize its perfection.  

And, if we realize that we've missed it -- a window of opportunity or inspiration has somehow now suddenly closed on us -- maybe the lesson is to believe that there will be another chance next season.  

Maybe, like lilacs, great/beautiful/amazing ideas can be brief, intoxicating, captivating; and the bunches on our neighbors' bush can look so much more abundant and gorgeous than our own.  

Our job is to notice them, cut them when we (and they) are ready, and enjoy them for all they have to offer.  And maybe share some with the neighbors or our teachers. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 Things I'm Thankful For Today:
1.  That Chet and Lillian are here and Daisy's having so much fun.
2.  Beautiful pinot gris from Oregon
3.  The community of people who loved Krys so much and so well
4.  The Law and Order marathon that's been running on USA all week
5.  That the Crab Cove project is getting close! to release :-)]]> Thu, 26 Jun 2008 09:35:00 GMT BBB456701AB698CD5EEFADEAC8A229A5 In a "One" year... http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=24311 I have a friend, S., who's gifted (and makes a living) at the esoteric arts -- palmistry, tarot, numerology -- and I always find her insights to be interesting filters for viewing my current adventures and challenges. She recently did my numbers and informed me that I'm in a &quot;one&quot; year. &quot;What's a &quot;one&quot; year?&quot; I asked, and discovered that, as you might guess, it's all about beginnings. Seems our lives run in thematic cycles, with the any of a number of themes emerging more prominently during certain years. We might find ourselves inundated with beginnings, or enmired in development and details, maybe we're fascinated with a renewed spiritual awareness, or feeling a sense of mourning permeating our days and work, or finding our projects and relationships dominated by natural endings, a sense of conclusion. Whatever it might be, it's certainly an interesting way to go about our lives -- seeing the cycles in not just one area of life, say work or schooling, but as a color in all the areas we experience. I learned from a great therapist that most of us think our lives are compartmentalized -- we believe each part is its own situation or problem or progress -- but in fact this is rarely the case. The same issues come up all over our lives, as if someone spilled a jar of marbles (titled &quot;fear&quot; or &quot;rescue me&quot; or even positive things like &quot;I can do it!&quot;) that roll willy-nilly into every crack and crevice of our experience. Our bodies, our mental health, our jobs, our relationships -- no area is exempt from the &quot;big themes&quot; we might encounter. At first thought, it's easy to think, &quot;oooh, baby! I want to be in a &quot;nine&quot; year -- I want to be experiencing completion, reward, acknowledgment, conclusion -- but you might be forgetting about the other side of conclusions, like friendships that may have run their course and be ready to end, or jobs that were once fulfilling and fun that you're now needing to leave. There's a full spectrum to every theme, I imagine. It's how life remains interesting and probably part of the force that asks us to evolve as people. So this apparently is my &quot;one&quot; year, and boy, can I ever tell. &nbsp; I've never experienced so many projects on my plate. Daisy is over a year old now and walking, talking, signing, singing, and excitedly tasting anything that can fit into her little mouth. The Crab Cove kids album is ready to launch, I'm writing a book, am facilitating two terrific workshops with Karen Ely this fall. &nbsp;I've been taking steps to rejuvenate my health, playing with diet and changes in exercise habits (for instance, signing up to do the Portland Marathon in October -- a kind of daunting first for me) and just for extra spice, we're renovating our house, letting go of things we've wanted to change for years and bringing in the new, more representative vibe of our current life. In fact, everywhere I look it seems there is a pile of items to make decisions on or a list of things to do for one project or another. I recently compiled BOB, the &quot;big orange binder,&quot; to help me manage all the things I'm trying to do. (It's helping a lot, btw.) When I look at all the tasks I want to get done, it makes me tired. But the actual work of each project is exciting. And there is nothing better than excitement and anticipation to keep your energy up. Finally, completing and posting this new website has been a big project that I'm SO excited about, so glad to have finished (well, it's in progress, so it's almost finished I guess), and so thrilled to share with all of you who have kept up with the music and adventures even when you had to muck through my old rough site for far too long. Thank you for your amazing support. I hope the thematic year in which you find yourself feels good, right for where you are, and full of wisdom and gifts for the greater journey. xo mb Five Things I'm Thankful For Today: 1. That Daisy finally went down for a good nap. She's teething and isn't herself. 2. The delicious fresh cherries we just gobbled up. 3. That Mark figured out how to fix my computer power cord (so I could do this!!) 4. That my dear friend Felice is headed to the most wonderful place on earth (Las Ventanas al Paraiso) for her honeymoon! 5. That we're going to see the new Indiana Jones movie tonight. Looks like fun! Blog note: &nbsp;Many of you may notice that the hundreds of comments that accompanied the blog entries in the past are no longer attached here...I'm so sorry, but it was not possible to move them over with the entries when we shifted to the new site and blog engine. Your comments mean the world to me, and I have been so inspired and uplifted by them over the years. Please come comment like crazy here on the new site so that your ideas can reach new people in a new time. Thank you again, and I look forward to your forthcoming remarks!
I learned from a great therapist that most of us think our lives are compartmentalized -- we believe each part is its own situation or problem or progress -- but in fact this is rarely the case. The same issues come up all over our lives, as if someone spilled a jar of marbles (titled "fear" or "rescue me" or even positive things like "I can do it!") that roll willy-nilly into every crack and crevice of our experience. Our bodies, our mental health, our jobs, our relationships -- no area is exempt from the "big themes" we might encounter.

At first thought, it's easy to think, "oooh, baby! I want to be in a "nine" year -- I want to be experiencing completion, reward, acknowledgment, conclusion -- but you might be forgetting about the other side of conclusions, like friendships that may have run their course and be ready to end, or jobs that were once fulfilling and fun that you're now needing to leave. There's a full spectrum to every theme, I imagine. It's how life remains interesting and probably part of the force that asks us to evolve as people.

So this apparently is my "one" year, and boy, can I ever tell.   I've never experienced so many projects on my plate. Daisy is over a year old now and walking, talking, signing, singing, and excitedly tasting anything that can fit into her little mouth. The Crab Cove kids album is ready to launch, I'm writing a book, am facilitating two terrific workshops with Karen Ely this fall.  I've been taking steps to rejuvenate my health, playing with diet and changes in exercise habits (for instance, signing up to do the Portland Marathon in October -- a kind of daunting first for me) and just for extra spice, we're renovating our house, letting go of things we've wanted to change for years and bringing in the new, more representative vibe of our current life. In fact, everywhere I look it seems there is a pile of items to make decisions on or a list of things to do for one project or another. I recently compiled BOB, the "big orange binder," to help me manage all the things I'm trying to do. (It's helping a lot, btw.) When I look at all the tasks I want to get done, it makes me tired. But the actual work of each project is exciting. And there is nothing better than excitement and anticipation to keep your energy up.

Finally, completing and posting this new website has been a big project that I'm SO excited about, so glad to have finished (well, it's in progress, so it's almost finished I guess), and so thrilled to share with all of you who have kept up with the music and adventures even when you had to muck through my old rough site for far too long. Thank you for your amazing support. I hope the thematic year in which you find yourself feels good, right for where you are, and full of wisdom and gifts for the greater journey.

xo
mb


Five Things I'm Thankful For Today:

1. That Daisy finally went down for a good nap. She's teething and isn't herself.
2. The delicious fresh cherries we just gobbled up.
3. That Mark figured out how to fix my computer power cord (so I could do this!!)
4. That my dear friend Felice is headed to the most wonderful place on earth (Las Ventanas al Paraiso) for her honeymoon!
5. That we're going to see the new Indiana Jones movie tonight. Looks like fun!


Blog note:  Many of you may notice that the hundreds of comments that accompanied the blog entries in the past are no longer attached here...I'm so sorry, but it was not possible to move them over with the entries when we shifted to the new site and blog engine. Your comments mean the world to me, and I have been so inspired and uplifted by them over the years. Please come comment like crazy here on the new site so that your ideas can reach new people in a new time. Thank you again, and I look forward to your forthcoming remarks!
]]> Sun, 01 Jun 2008 00:15:00 GMT 9FC92BC79A850BF443E56A92D20D647C Back In the Saddle... http://marybethmusic.com/marybethsblog.cfm?feature=278895&postid=23724 Well, hello...! &nbsp;It&rsquo;s been awhile since I&rsquo;ve been able to sit down and put some thoughts down...it&rsquo;s so nice to find a moment to reflect on the last year of life, music, and people. It&rsquo;s been busy here at Chez Maziarz. &nbsp;Lots of photos, music, and friends, as usual, but more strikingly, Daisy entered our lives last spring in a flurry of excitement, fascination, and change. &nbsp;She&rsquo;s darling and hilarious and brought with her a flood of creative energy. While her little four-month-old self learned to roll over, sit up, and play, I wrote my first children&rsquo;s music album for a new animated kids series called &ldquo;Crab Cove.&rdquo; &nbsp;I&rsquo;m psyched with how fun it turned out. &nbsp;I hope those of you who have little kids in your life will check it out (and I hope they&rsquo;ll rock out!). &nbsp;I&rsquo;ll keep you posted on when the DVDs and CD will be released (should be soon this summer). You&rsquo;ll also notice my new site. &nbsp;The old one -- bless it&rsquo;s heart, as Bruce would say -- limped along sadly for far too long without the love and care it needed. &nbsp;My forum became overgrown with p*rn, Rx ads, and who knows what else, the links got dusty and occasionally broken, and I just never seemed able to keep up with making sure shows, blogs, and photos were regularly updated. &nbsp;Well the good news is that I&rsquo;m now working on a Mac (back to my creative computing ROOTS!) and I feel a lot more able to pop on and be in touch. &nbsp;Thank you to all of you who have written. It&rsquo;s my pleasure to be back. :-) &nbsp; Blog note: &nbsp;Many of you may notice that the hundreds of comments that accompanied the blog entries in the past are no longer attached here...I'm so sorry, but it was not possible to move them over with the entries when we shifted to the new site and blog engine. &nbsp;Your comments mean the world to me, and I have been so inspired and uplifted by them over the years. &nbsp;Please come comment like crazy here on the new site so that your ideas can reach new people in a new time. &nbsp;Thank you again, and I look forward to your forthcoming remarks!
You’ll also notice my new site.  The old one -- bless it’s heart, as Bruce would say -- limped along sadly for far too long without the love and care it needed.  My forum became overgrown with p*rn, Rx ads, and who knows what else, the links got dusty and occasionally broken, and I just never seemed able to keep up with making sure shows, blogs, and photos were regularly updated.  Well the good news is that I’m now working on a Mac (back to my creative computing ROOTS!) and I feel a lot more able to pop on and be in touch.  Thank you to all of you who have written. It’s my pleasure to be back.
:-)  

Blog note:  Many of you may notice that the hundreds of comments that accompanied the blog entries in the past are no longer attached here...I'm so sorry, but it was not possible to move them over with the entries when we shifted to the new site and blog engine.  Your comments mean the world to me, and I have been so inspired and uplifted by them over the years.  Please come comment like crazy here on the new site so that your ideas can reach new people in a new time.  Thank you again, and I look forward to your forthcoming remarks!
]]> Tue, 13 May 2008 07:45:00 GMT 6FA8F81EF29E4BC4197C9FB9FC8B64CA