Hi Everybody!

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

They've already peaked, I think -- the lilacs -- and I miss them already.  

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 :-)

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 "one" year. "What's a "one" year?" 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 "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!

Well, hello...!  It’s been awhile since I’ve been able to sit down and put some thoughts down...it’s so nice to find a moment to reflect on the last year of life, music, and people. It’s been busy here at Chez Maziarz.  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.  She’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’s music album for a new animated kids series called “Crab Cove.”  I’m psyched with how fun it turned out.  I hope those of you who have little kids in your life will check it out (and I hope they’ll rock out!).  I’ll keep you posted on when the DVDs and CD will be released (should be soon this summer).

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.
:-)  

We’re in Santa Fe for a week for a photo workshop of Mark’s…Daisy’s grandparents have met us here, so I’m finding myself with a beautiful open expanse of free time each day. It’s a little weird. I’m kind of freaked out. It’s been so long since I had hours in a ROW to work on anything. The last ten months have trained me well in jumping on the opportunity of a free moment. My productivity has leapt to new heights with the ever-tightening amount of time available to me. So to find myself here with time gorgeously, luxuriously languished upon me, I should be crazily productive, right? Instead, I’m feeling a little…paralyzed.

At home, I find myself writing furiously in the 40 minutes or so that’s free after getting basic life stuff managed and before Daisy wakes from her nap. When she’s awake, I jot down (important! magnificent-feeling!) ideas on scraps of paper while feeding her, finish songs with her sitting on my lap or crawling around my feet, organize projects while she nibbles on puffs in the highchair. But here, in this quiet coffeehouse with the classical music playing and not a soul needing one-damn-thing from me, I’m doing everything but what I thought I’d do, what I really would like to have done by the end of this week. I have a book proposal to finish, meditations and visualizations to finish for a site I’m launching, and an artist cards project to — yep, you got it — finish. All things in the final stretch. Exciting, cool projects that I couldn’t put DOWN a few weeks ago. They kept me up til 1, 2, in the morning as it felt like I channelled information directly from sources much more brilliant than I could hope to ever be.

But what am I doing now, in the land of enchantment and free time? Clearing out my email in-box. Organizing my word docs so that my recipes and songs-in-progress are no longer a big entangled mess. Figuring out what the F keys do on my macbook. Checking to see if Victoria’s Secret website has that mascara I like. Or if there are any great glittery closed-toe gold heels on zappos.com (Yes to both, btw.) I’m obsessive-compulsively checking email about every seven minutes. (So please email me). Oh my God, I just checked it again, because it sounded like a good idea. Nothing exciting, btw. I have done SO much maintenance in the last three days, I feel like my entire digital life is tight as a drum. No stray threads, here. No, sirree.

What’s the resistance about? Some of it is surely task related. I love the big idea part of a project, the thrill of the first big waves of thought, the illumination, the discovery, the yes yes yes chain of momentum that often builds before the (often caffeine-fueled) frenzy dims. I usually find less excitement in the nuts and bolts part of the project. The research, the little obstacles (what!? my brilliant domain name is TAKEN??!!), the actual doing. The little jolts of popping energy come less regularly here for me. It feels a bit more like, umm, work.

I suspect the other piece of the resistance is the bit about fear. As an artistic project nears completion, it will likely be presented to the world. The world, being the opinionated place it is, tends to respond. Response comes in the form of applause, demands, frowns, confusion, even silence…any or all of these may be daunting to the artist.

But what are we supposed to do? Scribble away in obscurity, hoping that some self-starting relative will take it upon himself to publish our stuff after we’re gone? Pretend we don’t care what people think when we release our works? Market ourselves like fiends, self-promoting so that there’s no way we’ll be ignored (if not loved)?

Maybe the job today is just to do SOMETHING. Do the NEXT thing. Relax the focus off the eighteen things that all need to be done yesterday and do what I can, do what sounds GOOD to do right at this moment.

Okay. Off to work on a chapter. Or something. After I check email.

xo
mb

5 Things I’m Thankful for Today:
1. Helpful, loving, generous family members.
2. Daisy’s goofy bedhead smile when she wakes from her nap.
3. Good parking karma
4. The sweet herb-bundle guy who gave me such fragrant sage yesterday.
5. The delicious dinner we had last night at Coyote Cafe.

Lately, Mark’s been sharing a lot of ideas he’s excited about on how to live a better/more efficient/more effective/more pleasant life from a site he discovered called www.lifehacker.com. It’s great stuff — pragmatic approaches, innovative ideas, cool tips. Some of the lifehacker ideas have made me think about the things that work or don’t work in my life.

If I have an idea worth living by lately, it’s the 90 percent rule. It started coming to light when we installed a new built-in closet for me a few weeks ago. As I pulled all the stuff out of my old closet and started organizing everything, I realized how many items were things I really rarely wore — evening gowns, out-of-season pieces, weird sparkly holiday crap, stuff that really should go in some kind of costume box. I asked myself what I accessed the most, and it was stuff like workout clothes, pajamas, well-fitting Gap khakis, a couple great sweaters that feel great everytime I put them on.   Decent jeans.  And the staples, like socks.  Underwear.  (And headbands. I’m growing out my bangs).  It was fascinating to me how buried all my everyday gear was, while there were tons of things on top that had so little to do with my usual life patterns.

I vowed to make a change. I wanted to face the facts. What does the majority of my life require for me to feel good about it? What tools do I need? How do I dress for it? What do I do with my hours? What are the bulk of my food choices? With whom do I spend my time? And toward what end? I looked at the hard truth: I’m living with and holding on to WAY too much stuff for contingencies. I’m storing, managing, maintaining, and moving around all these things that I use incredibly rarely, 10 percent of the time in a very generous assessment. It’s time to break it down to percentages…maximum effectiveness per shelf inch, per hour spent. I am going to pare my life down to the stuff I’m USING, ENJOYING, or ASPIRING TO 90 percent of the time.

Can I really let go of the things I only need once in awhile? After all, most of this stuff didn’t just fall into my life — I bought it, or someone gave it to me, maybe I even made it. If you’re like me, you really think you need everything you have. And then you become more annoyed than comforted by your things, and so you start to think about streamlining. The urge to simplify has probably reached most of us in some way these days, but that nagging sense that “I might need it someday” still causes hesitation for me as I try to clear things out. But the 90 percent rule helps with this. Is this an item I use in my most-of-the-time life? If not, can I borrow it? Rent it? Make it? Trust that I can figure something out when the time comes?

This is trickier than it looks, to start glancing about with a critical eye at all your excess supplies, clothing, tools. It asks you to be realistic about the way you’re really living, and to be honest about how close that is to your ideal life. It made me realize that there are two versions of myself: the one I imagine that I am, and the one I ACTUALLY am. There’s the me that loves the idea of yoga, but not the actual doing of it. (Except for that great part at the end, savasana, where you get to lie down and relax. I love that part.) I love the idea of a beautifully tailored, perfectly made bed everyday, but the reality is that giving our comfy down duvet a good fluff in the morning is about all I’m willing to do. I love giving dinner parties, but with a new baby in the house and time more crunched than ever, I think it’s probably wise to put the fancy china in the back cupboards for awhile.

I sleep a good nine hours a night (which is awesome for a new parent — I appreciate little Daisy's habits more every day!), so my bed, sheets, pajamas, and sleeping companion better all be great. (They are!). I work out a few times a week and tend to do errands in my workout clothes for a few hours afterwards. This makes up the majority of my time in public lately. Are my workout clothes comfortable? Pleasant to wear? Flattering? Well, they weren’t until a week ago. But they are now. (Thank you nice helper girl at Nordstrom.) If I’m going to be living in these clothes for most of my days, I’m not going to wear ratty faded crappy fraying leggings with an ill-fitting top and a fleece with a hole in it. Not anymore I’m not.

Once on Oprah, she had on two guys helping viewers clean out their closets. The guys suggested you ask yourself three questions:
1. Do I love this?
2. Does it fit?
3 Does this support the image I want to present to the world?
That last one really gets me. And fits with my 90 percent approach. It’s not just clothes either. It might be the bike you haven’t ridden in five years, the chip carving set, the rice cooker/juicer/pasta roller machine, the ‘learn to crochet’ dvd, the Anthony Robbins cassettes, the five hammocks in your store room. Even if these things once represented who you were or wanted to be, if they're not current, it’s time to let the go so that new, better, more appropriate items can be beckoned in (OR so the space exists for you to discover what may be next for you!). I find myself asking over and over: is this supportive of the life I am living and want to live? If not, it’s out of here.

I’m now encroaching upon my sacred hours of sleep, so I’ll sign off. But let me know where the 90 percent rule might make sense in your life (if anywhere). It’s helping me in little ways and I’d love to hear about what you think.

Things I’m Thankful For Today:
1. That I figured out how to clear old bookmarks off my mac’s surfing program
2. That Daisy was so cute and sweet on our walk
3. That I made yummy 15 bean soup and zucchini bread today
4. That it smells and feels so perfectly crisp as fall settles in
5. That the BEAR in our yard Saturday morning didn’t hurt us or come to any harm itself ! yikes!

Hi ho, those who tried to come out and enjoy the music last Thursday night in Heber City, UT…the rain and wind got the better of us, and the show got cancelled. We’re so sorry! It was going to be the first band show since Daisy became a member of our gang, and she was ready to rock! We ended up having a nice catch up meal at the Spin Cafe — which was great! Gelato in Heber! — but were disappointed not to get to play. Next time… (or maybe not — a few years back, the same thing happened!)

Artsfest show on Saturday was terrific! Thanks everybody for coming out. It was terrific to see so many familiar faces in the audience — singing along, helping keep me on track with my own lyrics! We did a few songs we hadn’t done in a while — U2’s All I Want is You, for one — and had a blast. Mark and Daisy ran a tight ship over at the CD table, with the help of Cathy King, and our friends Ryan (and Susie and Lia) kept spirits high and the schedule running on time by being a step-in roadie…thanks everybody!

Coming up, we have a show on Wednesday Aug 22nd at Deer Valley (7- 8 p.m.) and a cool show at The Homestead on Saturday, Aug 25th. Both shows — in grand summer tradition — are Free! Sweet! The DV show will feature my Wild Honey band, and the show at the Homestead will be a different set up — lovely — with Violinist Aaron Ashton and percussion by Daniel Day. Hope you’ll be able to join us.

We’re here in Cadiz, Kentucky, for an annual family vacation at Lake Barkley. We’ve been coming here since I was a kid. I remember stages of life taking place here — fishing off the dock when I was a little kid, roller skating loops around the lodge arc and doing arts & crafts with the recreation crew when I was a grade schooler, trying to be cool and going out for boat rides with found friends when I was a teenager. It’s strange to be an adult here. I feel like everything is smaller. I’m not as good at the (same) video games in the Game Room as I used to be. (Galaga, Pole Position — classics!) Different rhythms seem to rule our days, different forms of entertainment guiding the evenings.

It’s a little tough, finding harmony amongst all the different age groups — we now range from 4 months to 67 — we all seem to have different agendas. Getting the deepest tan, finding the perfect buzz, keeping the baby content, relaxing and reading, having meaningful connective conversations with busy family members. Sometimes it’s been easy — we went out on a pontoon boat yesterday afternoon and had a great time, today at the pool Chris and I were playing and singing a little, which was so much fun. (We were resuscitating some old Ray Charles tunes.)

It’s harder than it used to be to have everybody here for the whole time. Work schedules, puppies, weddings — life — makes it more complicated to get together. Dena, Brad, Billy, and Peggy left this morning, Chris has gigs, Laura has work this weekend, Susan is mad because my parents had to put their collective foot down about her friend heading home, keeping it a family vacation. For some reason, she’s decided this is my fault (my “third parent” status as the oldest child probably putting me into the meanie category) and so she’s not speaking to me. Good times. We’ve joked a few times that we’d make an excellent reality show. No producers necessary — just bring the cameras. Plenty of drama, plenty of excitement, plenty of hysterical moments.

It’s hot as hell. With a wall of humidity that hits you with whomping force. Jumping in the pool helps for a moment, but the bathwater-warm pool temperature leaves you more pruny than refreshed. So mostly, we’re hanging here in the suite with the air conditioner cranked, catching up on the news, magazines, and each other.

10 adults and one baby on top of each other on a family vacation. Priceless.  

 …has arrived. She came into our lives early in the morning of April 3, and nothing has been the same since. She’s very sweet, and Mark and I have a hard time not spending all our time just looking at her…best show in town, as any new parent will tell you. It’s crazily fascinating, this little being with her scrunched up face and little sounds and tiny cry, insistent as it is cute.

The first weeks are a blur now…our natural birth left me proud but tired, and recovering is a whole body thing that I never thought about really until my tailbone, neck, head, and even jaw muscles joined the parts you’d expect for a couple weeks of achiness as everything found its way back to normal. Thank God for massage, for chiropractic care, for wonderful family members who kep us fed and tidied and sane as we tried to adjust to interrupted sleep, the new world of nursing, the art of interpreting Daisy’s little cries.

I had read about people who say that they instantly ‘knew’ their infant upon seeing them — having a sense of “oh! it’s YOU!” that overwhelmed them wth familiarity. So I have been surprised at how ‘new’ Daisy feels to me. She is a mystery, a lovely stranger that I’m greatly enjoying getting to know, a baby enigma that is at the moment at the center of our world with her new smiles and basic needs.

I have a new respect for my own mother (of six!), for all mothers, for mothers of multiples and adoptive mothers who may not always get the preparation period inherent in usual gestation. I feel at once like I’m the first and only person who’s experienced all this, and that I’m linked to all the mothers of eternity, all of us in a long linked chain of nurturing and astonishment.

I feel new tenderness for my father, for the power of fatherhood and its intense protectiveness and amazement. For its responsibility, its questions, its concern and sometimes helplessness.

Mark is a wondrous father. He is different with Daisy in a way that I love, a way that balances probably the sheltering nature of a woman’s instinctive care with an adventurous approach, a can-do attitude that fathers bring. He carries her differently, talks to her differently, asks her funny questions and already is teaching her things that I suspect will take at least a year to make sense to her, but it’s great and perfect.

Daisy frowned a lot in her early weeks, looking distressed and worried as we all tried to find our rhythms. I was reminded of a quote by one of the psychics — maybe Sylvia Brown? — who said that we often take on a lot, too much, when we’re on the ‘other side’, planning what we’d like to experience and achieve in this life on earth. And then when we get here, we’re a bit overwhelmed by how actually hard it is. And she added: “look at any infant — doesn’t the expression on their face usually look something like ‘oh shit…I don’t think this was what I imagined.’ ” Daisy had that look a lot early on and it was worrisome (will she be a frowny kid? will she be worried all the time?), but now at over five weeks, she’s relaxed quite a bit and smilesat us from time to time and looks around curiously. We are relieved and finding more fun each day as she responds more to our goofy faces and baby talking.

She was so impervious to sound these first several weeks that I began to think she had a hearing problem. Huge bangs, hammering, dogs barking — nothing would wake her up or startle her. This, too, has changed, and Mark and I have taken to tiptoeing out of her room upon putting her down so as not to wake her.

We are blown away by the generosity of our friends and family who have welcomed Daisy with wonderful gifts, cards, and wishes. From my ‘goddess circle’ women who beckoned her with a ‘Fairy Godmother birth bracelet’ of precious stones to the funny onesies sent by my brothers and sisters to terrific ‘daisy’ themed items — darling towels, robes, washcloths, slippers, dresses, pjs, and a million other things. The most adorable collection of items I’ve ever seen. She’ll be a little fashion icon until she’s two, at this rate. My brother Chris tells me that daisy items have now joined the inexplicably extensive collection of frog-themed stuff at my parents house. Frogs and daisies. …Okay.

Music and songwriting has taken a break from my main attention as we get used to our new life with Daisy. I did have a great opportunity to sing at the wedding of our dear friends Lily and Mark last weekend in Napa Valley. Mark is in Melissa Etheridge’s band, so she was there (which was cool!) and I got to visit with other great songwriter friends, like Beth Thornley and Rob Cairns and Dax Bauser. There seems to be an interesting theme among my songwriter friends lately, a relaxing of that desperation to ‘make it’, whatever that means. A lot of the writers we know have chosen to step back a bit, to take a break from the constant question of ‘what next? who can I send my record to? how can I get the next gig/exposure/connection?’ Which I think is healthy. Maybe we’ve all been working at it too many months (or years) in a row, maybe it’s a natural stage of one’s career when you just need to stop and reflect a bit, but it’s interesting how we each are approaching the process. Having Daisy has given me a natural break in the rhythms of writing, recording, performing…I feel certain that when I return to it full speed I will have found a new energy in the foundation from which to work. Others are choosing to just do an EP instead of a full-length record, to skip a couple music conferences, to write without an endgame for a few months or years. When people ask Dax what he’s doing at the moment, he honestly replies that he’s “figuring that out,” which I love. We all do do do so much. Maybe it’s important to remember to just be for a while, to remember who we are instead of running around trying to get so much done. I don’t know. But I will look forward to hearing the music and having the conversations on the other side of this journey. I think they will be rich and bright.

At the moment, we’re figuring it out too…caring and delighting in little Daisy, finishing our kitchen remodel (please God soon), getting bits more sleep in a row each day. I’m also thinking of walking a marathon, recording some spec pieces for “This American Life”, and working on a chilidren’s album that I’ve had on my mind for a few years now. It seems like the time for all these things. But for the moment, I’m psyched to have had a chance to write here a little bit.

Thanks for coming by. I hope you’re all wonderfully well.
xo
mb

5 Things I’m Thankful For Today:
1. That Daisy slept long enough for me to write this.
2. For the great soups that Lillian made that fill our freezer — delicious!
3. For a beautiful trip to Napa and our fun time at Carneros Valley Inn.
4. That so many people have welcomed Daisy with such enthusiasm and love.
5. Our friends who have been so supportive (and informative) — thanks you guys.

I’m jealous of people who seem to be able to finish things.

Lately my focus is strange…it seems to wander and appear in little puffs, instead of periods of any sustained presence, which is tricky! If I’m not doing something very short-termed and critical (like eating or peeing), or longer and critical (napping or well, more napping), I’m finding myself lacking usual motivation and concentration. Things that used to feel very urgent and important seem less so, but in a non-alarming way, at least. I was feeling so unproductive for a while there that I decided to keep a journal of what I’d actually accomplished each day as evidence that I was at least getting SOMETHING done. But then I decided that even that was a bit too much effort. (!)

As some things recede in importance in the rhythms of my day, other areas have gotten spotlighted in new ways. I suddenly find myself NEEDING to deep-clean the laundry room, or HAVING to get the furniture put together RIGHT NOW, or pitching old canned goods into a donation box with a fervor. I’d always heard about nesting, but actually experiencing it is a trip! We decided we needed to renovate the KITCHEN — right NOW — so we’re currently just hoping the cabinets will predate our other coming arrival and that the floors will go in smoothly, the appliances will arrive on time, etc. I’d always wondered why expectant parents do that — plan big house projects — but it’s a compulsion that’s tough to ignore. The urge to create a peaceful, functional environment before things change is a powerful one. Crazy, yes, but powerful. And hell, now we’ll have cork floors. Cool. !

The shift in how I’m thinking about music has been significant too. I find “the edge” that has always accompanied my ambition feels rounded off, which is a surprise (and positive thing). I imagined that I might feel an additional urgency or pressure with music when we decided to become parents, but it’s been a different experience. Maybe it’s some metaphysical thing — something that the baby him/herself is bringing to the mix — but if anything, I feel more secure, more relaxed that what I’m doing has meaning and relevance in the world, and that it’s all going to be alright. (Could this all be some fab response to new and different hormones? Sure! But still!)

Okay, this is a good example of my attention span (and inability to sit in one position for more than a half hour)…I feel like I have more to share about this, but it’s time to move on to a mid-morning nap. (Seriously — I often take ‘after breakfast naps’!).

Thanks for being here!
xo
mb

5 Things I’m Thankful For Today:
1. One month left until April 9th — our due date!
2. Tivo!
3. My nice lunch with Stephanie on Tuesday.
4. Good fiction books as a break from more ‘critical’ reading.
5. The wonderful women and friends who have helped us celebrate over the last months.

Well, hello hello my dear friends…! I’m so sorry for the long silence…it’s been a fascinating journey over the last several months and I’m afraid it just consumed me in a way I never would have expected. It’s beyond anything I’ve experienced before in both magical and daunting ways.

We’re having a BABY.

I guess part of me hesitated in talking about it here, feeling that many of you aren’t in the stage of life where you’re having kids, or it would be weird and non-musical to discuss it, or just that it might change the way you feel about me in some way (because I know sometimes it’s changed the way I see my friends). But I can’t NOT share about it anymore. It’s too big (and so am I!) to keep under wraps, it’s too fascinating and lovely and I would really love to share some of the thoughts and moments that are coming up throughout the process with you.

One of the more pertinent aspects of this new phase of life is that it’s got me thinking about Children’s Music. I’ve always thought that I might like to do a kids music album someday, and people have asked me about it at concerts in the past. Well, now feels like the perfect time. I’ve begun writing songs for it, and they’re flowing really well. I’m realizing that there is a great opportunity to affect kids and parents through music — remember “Free to be You and Me”?! — and that I may have a unique message to offer. All those hours that you spend in the car…wouldn’t it be cool if parents found themselves not only tolerating the music their kids like, but being moved by it too? Can I do this? I hope so. We’ll see. Hopefully our latest release will be here in early April as planned, and the kids project will start coming to fruition by this summer. I imagine I’ll need to do some playful market testing with my core kids audience…so maybe this year’s summer shows will have a brand new component!

Thank you to all of you who have written in to say hello or to make sure all was well….I also want to apologize for the ridiculous forum problems we’ve had with spam over the past few months. I finally had to pull it for lack of time to moderate the hundreds of non-pertinent messages that were popping up every day. We’ll find another way to communicate and continue the great sense of community and sharing that you’ve all created.

On a final note, I’m now a MAC USER! Whoo hoo! and it’s so cool! I’m currently working on ways to provide photos here, demo songs, a podcast, and other things that always seemed more than a little out of my technical reach. I’m clearly going to be a fixture at the Apple Store (I’ll be the one with the buddha belly) as I learn more about how to do all this cool stuff.

Best wishes, everybody, and again, I’m so sorry for the long quiet period. It feels great to be back!
love,
mb

Hi Everybody! I had big plans of writing in the blog every night, but I think I was sadly mistaken about the energy and focus requirements of playing so many dates in new places every night or two…this has been a blast so far, but also one of the hardest, trickiest things that I’ve ever done. Just making sure that I’m where I need to be, rested enough to put on a (hopefully) great show, organized with materials and promotion, etc….there’s a lot to do! Not the beach days I perhaps expected. But it’s all been great, and it’s been wonderful to see and meet so many of you on the road, and I’m learning more than I ever imagined. Here are some show by show updates…

The Melting Point, Athens GA
I kicked off my tour by speaking to Bruce and Steve’s class at the Music Business Program at the Terry School of Business at UGA on Tuesday, Sept 5. The class was so cool – it focuses on how to do all the things that I had to kind of figure out myself in typical haphazard fashion…how to set up a record label, how to work with investors, how to find promotional support and get your legal entity stuff worked out. Such important info and so well organized and presented. I was really impressed. And jealous that I had to read about 43 books about the music business to get a realistic overview that these students were getting in a year long program with two great instructors.

On Wednesday the 6th I played at The Melting Point with host Ken Will Morton playing a great opening set. WES – you are the MAN on sound…holy crap! We used an SM87 instead of a typical 58 microphone and with Wes’s magic hands on the board, I was really psyched with how everything sounded. It was sounding just like melted butter up there in the monitor…lovely. The Melting Point is a gorgeous listening room venue where you’re sure to to hear many terrific artists over the next several months (including Aimee Mann, Shawn Mullins, other fantabulous songwriters). They’ve just begun an “Uncorked and Unplugged” Music and Wine-deal Series on Wednesday nights that Ken Will Morton is going to host. Please check it out if you’re in the mood for a sophisticated venue where you can hear yourself think (and you’ll probably be thinking: damn, this music is amazing!). I got to meet such nice folks at the gig too, btw…thank you to all the people who came up to say hello, bought cds, or/or gave nice feedback – a special shout out to Mike and Chrystie Dekle, Michelle Roach, my dear friend Bruce Burch, and the students from Bruce’s class who were kind enough to come out. Thanks to The Melting Point, Bruce, Troy, Ben, Wes, and of course, Ken Will, for setting up such a lovely gig and inviting me to be a part of it. (As a sidenote, The Foundry Park Inn was a sweet! place to stay and their restaurant, Hoyt House, had THE BEST BREAKFAST ever. They had these breakfast potatoes that introduced me to Southern Cooking in a BIG way…I think they were mashed potatoes, dusted in flour, coated in cheese and then fried on a GRIDDLE. Are you kidding me? They were unbelievable. My mouth is watering right now as I remember them. Ummm, Hoyt House…)

Show at Eddie’s Attic...
We had a great time on Thursday, September 7th at Eddie’s Attic in Decatur, GA, the other night. John M opened up the night with a rollicking set and songs inspired by current events and family relationships…then I played my set, starting out with Better Than Anyone and grooving it was cozy and mellow throughout, except for when I told some stories about Goin’ On and Deeper Love that got people a little riled up. Special thanks to Shalom for excellently manning the board and keeping the sound crisp and lovely for the good people listening in this great room. After I played, we all got to sit back and chill to Evan McHugh, whose jazz/alt/pop sound reminded me of a guitar-based Rufus Wainwright (one of my favorites) and a bit of John Mayer with a lot of just his own Evan McHugh thing going on. Very cool. Eddie has set up a terrific room for listening – if you love music and prefer not to be shushing the loud people while someone is singing their heart out, this is the venue for you. Please visit them and enjoy the wonderful writers they bring in. And their hummus plate and sweet potato fries. It was my pleasure to play there – thanks to everybody who helped make it happen and who came out for the show…it was a real treat to have such old great friends there…thanks Jori and Jeff, Jay and Hillary, and Mr. Cooper. It was wonderful to see you. Jay and Hilly – it was awesome to spend so much time with you and Sam too… he’s a rock star in the making for sure!

Smith’s Olde Bar, Atlanta GA
Smith’s is one of those great Atlanta institutions that feels like it’s been there forever (and maybe in some form or another, it has). I’d heard about it a lot before ever walking through the doors, since Julie Jones used to work there and the Coops used to talk about it from time to time. It has a lot of character, and the room where I played, “The Atlanta Room” was totally groovy and comfy, with couches and little tables and a great sound system (and a nice waitstaff that whispered under the music when they brought food or drink or settled up a bill, which I found really thoughtful).

Sean did a great job with the sound…I was thinking about trying to get over my problem with live show recordings (it can be loosely described as – “if the show’s being recorded, you can be sure I sound extra nervous and a little sucky”), but as it turns out, the recording gear wasn’t in the house that night, so I was relaxed, happy, and felt totally plugged in and good about the show. It was AWESOME to see so many familiar faces, including Hilly, FredCoop, Sue and Bruce, Julie and John Paul, Julia and Colleen…you guys were so great to have in the HOUSE, thanks!

A great guy named Rudy Vaughn opened the night…I liked his stuff a lot. Very rhythmic and rootsy – kind of “jamiriquai meets John Mayer”…great grooves and good songs. I invited him to come check out the Durango Songwriter’s Expo in Park City in October…I hope he comes. If you’re a songwriter reading this and want to get some industry responses to your stuff (and a possible opportunity to showcase, etc), please check it out too. It’s going to be great. www.durango-songwriters-expo.com

The LOW POINT to the night, unfortunately, was when just after my set, my dear friend Jen came rushing in with her friend Joslyn, both of them incredulous that they had missed the show. They’d been upstairs the whole time, for an hour and a half! waiting for me to come on in a different music room. So the signage for the Atlanta room could probably be a bit better…but Jen’s making the trek to the show in Charlotte, so thankfully we’ll get the chance to hang out at a gig after all. Which rocks!

The HIGH POINT was meeting new friends Theresa and Tiffany, who’d come all the way from Thomasville, Georgia, which is 5 HOURS AWAY to come to the show. What cool girls…Theresa said she’d first become a fan in ’99 I think, and had heard about the show through the mailing list. I was so touched. They were heading back to Thomasville afterwards…I hope it was an easy trip and that the miles flew by. Thanks for your devotion to the music, T&T. I’m honored.

SIDETRIPS…
After fantastic Atlanta field trips to: Whole Fields, the video store for Entourage — Season One, La Tavola in Virginia Highlands (oh my gosh, the semolina lemon cake was unbelievable), the Cooper couches for a Dane Cook “Vicious Circle” marathon, Jori and Jeff’s terrific new house in Roswell (and Dreamland, lordy!), and the Krispy Kreme store at 11 p.m. one night, we finally headed out on the road for more shows and new territories. So we set out for Savannah, GA for a show at The Sentient Bean on September 11th. On the way, we decided to stop in Macon, GA, for lunch. We decided to get in touch with our Americana vibe and check out the official Visitor Center. Well, Mary Ann took EXCELLENT care of us, and filled us in on all the activities happening in the happenin’ town of Macon. Mark noticed Shawn Mullins’ photo on a poster and remarked that there seemed to be a karmic connection with him on this tour. (And there does…!  Everywhere I’m playing, there are posters of Shawn Mullins there too, saying he’s just played or is playing in a day or two, etc.) So I looked a little more closely at the poster, and it turned out that he was playing THAT DAY for a lunchtime concert that began in a HALF HOUR!! So we grabbed a lunch, got the last two seats in the big outdoor tent, and settled in for a great free show. Shawn’s opener and sideman was a terrific artist named Clay Cook (who co-wrote “No Such Thing as the Real World” for John Mayer – wow – amongst other great songs), and then Shawn came on and played a killer set. Mark and I noticed that it’s an especially fortunate thing when you have three hit songs or more…one at the beginning (his current radio song, “Beautiful Wreck”), one in the middle (“Shimmer”) and one at the end (his monster hit “Lullaby”). What a cool thing to stumble across…there were funny moments throughout, when the longest trains in GA came barreling through behind the stage, but the show was really fun and we felt so lucky to have found ourselves in the right place at the right time.

The Sentient Bean, Savannah GA
This gig was a quiet one, on September 11th, and there was definitely a subdued sense on the day. It seemed that every piece on the radio, on tv, even on the internet news pages referenced the attacks on New York five years ago. It’s an additional anniversary for my family, as it was just a week or two later that our family home burned down that year. But as life-changing and draining as that experience was for us personally, it also brought a totally different opportunity to experience compassion and support from the people around us, which I so hope is one of the lasting elements that resonates with the people most affected by 9-11.

When we got to TSB, there was a great group of “Grannies for Peace” there, singing songs about peace and protest. They graciously yielded the floor to me when it was time to start, and with my white chocolate latte in hand, I started playing for the small but focused crowd. By the end of the night, we’d gotten very cozy and conversational, and the lingerers all gave me special gifts that they had on their person, including a tiny box from El Salvador, an offer of a place to stay in Copenhagen, a demo of a cd in progress, and (the funniest), a used pamphlet guide to the nearby factory outlet stores. Excellent creativity, guys – and I’d expect that from a group of design students like you. Thanks to all the good people who came out and shared the evening with me.

After enjoying the afternoon in beautiful weathered wooden deck chairs on the beach in Hilton Head, SC, it was time to hit the road again. We stopped for lunch in Savannah on the way out at “The Lady and Sons” – Paula Deen’s restaurant (you might have seen Paula making delectable goodies on her show on the food channel). I naively imagined that we’d get a picture with Paula and send it to my sister Susan, who’s also a big fan and great cook and baker. But, umm, as it turns out, this would not so much be the case. In fact, the case would be much more like putting in our names to two harried hostesses for a time to come back an hour and fifteen minutes later for a table. Along with hundreds of other hungry people. We explored the riverwalk area and several cool interior design stores, and made it back in time for our slot. It was WORTH the wait. It all turns into a blur or comfort-food-carbs after the mint lemonade began washing down the “hoe cakes” – griddle fried corncakes that tasted the way every pancake should but never does. And the cheddar biscuits. Oh lord. I’ll stop now. But it was killer. And I especially got a kick out of the t-shirts for sale in the little shop at the exit: “Body by Lady and Sons”. Amen, sister.

Juggling Gypsy in Wilmington NC
Well…the Juggling Gypsy is what it says it is…a creative, free-form space, where artists and members of the community can gather for music, poetry, or whatever else they’d like to express. But it was kind of a weird gig. And the expression didn’t really extend to much music appreciation. But the hookah pipes seemed popular, and the tea was good. I shared the evening with a musician from Orlando named Chris Bell. Sweet guy. It was cool being in Wilmington again…the last time we were there I was in town to be an on-air guest on “Dawson’s Creek” and it was a magical experience. What Mark remembered most from the last trip was the pizza, of all things. So we went out after the gig and found an open pizza place (because prayers as fervent as his apparently get answered) and this morning, dodging seriously torrential rain, we found more pizza. Mark was very happy. 

We arrived in Durham tonight and are psyched to check out this area and explore tomorrow before the gig at the Broad Street Café, where I’ll be opening for local faves the “Bull City Band”. Hope to see you there!

TOMORROW: Playing the Evening Muse in Charlotte, NC, one of my very favorite cities in the South.  I love it there! Hope to see you tomorrow! Thanks! 

Surprise Me…

We were at a dinner the other night with some new people, and when the hostess asked what one gentleman wished to drink as an aperatif, he replied saucily, “Oh I don’t know...surprise me….” His tone was neutral, but his manner a little weary. I found myself wondering what possible drink might be the perfect one for him, and felt glad not to be the hostess who was in the kitchen mixing up something for him to taste and critique.

It occurred to me that we often ask the universe/God/lifeforce to respond to our needs this way. Instead of declaring this is what I want and this is when I’d like it please, we mope around, feeling vaguely unhappy. We ask the universe to bring change or blessings or something — God! anything!, but offer no guidance or parameters for what we wish to experience. “Surprise me,” we say unconsciously. “Choose for me.”

Maybe the thought of being responsible for all our choices is too daunting. I know that there have certainly been times I’ve chosen things that appeared to bring me more challenges than joy in the long run. I’ve chosen experiences that brought me pain or disappointment or frustration (rather than the delight, status, and comfort that I imagined). Maybe we get a couple of these in a row and start feeling like our judgment is off, that we should “leave the driving” to somebody else. And so we do. And we become reactive to our lives instead of active, passive and sleepy as we go through the motions of a life we’re living but somehow never really decided on.

What the upside of asking the universe to “surprise me…”? Well, you might get something more fabulous than you can even imagine, right? What if our hostess knows of an elixir more lovely than any you’ve ever tasted, and now you’re drinking it! There’s that, although I suspect that happens much less often than the “hmm, this is okay, but not really satisfying” response. There’s also the ability to place blame for your unthrilled state of affairs on someone else….so it’s not your fault when everything, well, sucks. And then there’s the big upside: it seems easier. There’s no effort, just a passive drifting along, without intention or direction. No need to examine our course, no need to create tension to help steer us in a firm direction. We get to just drift, which is sometimes all we feel capable of doing. Which is okay — it happens — except when it’s such a habit that our muscles become slack and weak, uncapable of supporting us when we decide we’re ready to start striding purposefully again.

I don’t do it perfectly myself. I try to plan and use intention and action to demonstrate what I wish to bring into (and send out of) my life, but I still struggle, stumble from time to time. But if I’ve learned one thing about the process so far through personal experience, it’s to USE YOUR DESIRE. I explore the concept in my song “Circle of Desire” in the bridge: “So much to do/ so much to find/ but with each choice, so many left behind/ what is desire but a guide….to where we’re supposed to be.” What if desire is our greatest gift? What if it’s the indicator of where we’re to direct ourselves in order to learn what we wish to learn in this life, to find the delights of this earth, to find the blessings that will balance out the challenges of a given experience? Isn’t this evidenced by how tenacious our desires are…? We sometimes bury them, deny them, redirect them, delay them, and dance around them for decades, but the big ones stay with us until we engage with them and give them some loving attention.

Today I ask for the strength of conviction and courage, so that I might do better than to ask the universe to Surprise Me.

*********

5 Things I’m Thankful For Today:
1. The amazing and generous opportunities that have come to me this month (opening for Etta James, playing for M.F.’s event)
2. The amazing and generous women in my life, especially Steph, Pam, and Nancy the other night, and Susan so very often.
3. The amazing and generous care of my honey, Mark, who supports and loves me so beautifully
4. The amazing and generous enthusiasm of Utahns for my music…I am so thankful for the smiles, applause, cd purchases, and kind words.
5. The amazing and generous ability of the body to do what it does — to heal, to manage itself, to wisely do things we barely understand…I’m thankful for good health, energy, and the ability of my body to do what I ask of it.