THE PARIS SHOW - ONCE IN A LIFETIME

I played a show in Paris a few weeks ago at an art installation on a footbridge over the Seine River. I haven’t really had a chance to assimilate the experience until now because I had 2 art exhibitions opening right after I got back. It wasn’t easy, but I got everything finished. The paintings are all hanging on walls now and I’m proud of what came out. The LA Brewery Artwalk show went amazing last weekend, and I’m looking forward to my opening at The Frame Gallery in Agoura next Saturday night.

And now here I am. And there I was. Paris.

I started this entry a couple times but ran out of words before I could do the experience any justice. It just doesn’t translate well to language. But I really want to share the experience with you, so I’m trying again.

When I got offered the gig, I was told there was no budget so they couldn’t pay for me or any expenses, but if I could get myself there they would love to have me. I didn’t commit right away while I wrestled with whether or not I “should” go due to the sad state of my finances and the fact that I had just had a vacation. Plus, I knew there was a distinct possibility I could wind up playing for 3 people. From a rational  perspective, it really made no sense.

But there was something inside me that just wouldn’t let me say no. I knew I HAD to do it. I was helpless. I knew it the moment Adrian and Ruth first offered it to me. I heard a voice say, “It’s Paris. This is once in a lifetime. Go.”

Just because something doesn’t “make sense”, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a bad idea. “Sense” is overrated. My best decisions usually fly in the face of reason. So I listened to my gut and finally hit “send” on the email committing myself to go.

Woo hoo! Was quickly followed by…Eek! What am I going to play? I’ve performed at countless clubs over the years and some of my art openings, but never an installation like this. Somehow my “regular” set just didn’t feel appropriate. When I imagined myself on that bridge playing, I knew I had to do something different. Something new.

STEP UP 48"x36"
The steps at the St. Michel Station in Paris

The thing is, I feel a kinship with Paris. The first time I went there was in 2008. I spent a week there alone that altered me for life. I remember walking up the steps at the St. Michel station in the Latin Quarter after riding the train in from London, taking one look around, and feeling something I’d never felt before...comfortable. Comfortable in a way I never even knew existed until that moment.

It was beautiful. Yes. I was happy. YES! Ecstatic in fact. It was noisy, chaotic and strange. Absolutely. But the best word to describe the feeling I had is comfortable. It’s odd. And it struck me as odd at the time. There’s no other way to explain it. It was like unbeknownst to me, I’d been holding my breath my whole life until that moment when a silent, spiritual, gutteral sigh came over me...and then...everything was different.

It still is.

So when I got offered this gig, it was personal. I almost teared up when I imagined sound waves of my music floating, bouncing around and being absorbed by the city. This was a chance to give an offering of myself to a place that has given me so much.

I wanted whatever I did to make sense with the concept of the installation, which involved a connection between 2 things….people, cities, nations or lives (hence, the bridge). I stayed up nights for weeks concocting together a musical experience which I felt mapped the emotional terrain involved in moving from one place in life to another. I tried to throw away everything I thought I knew about music. I just pictured myself standing there playing….what feels right? Drums? Ok. A string section? Sure. I refused to worry about logistics. If it sounded beautiful or right, it went in. I worked until the last second getting on the plane. 

In the end I don’t know exactly what I wound up with, but i liked it. It would require me to play live with prerecorded backing tracks on my computer which I had mixed feelings about, but nothing else seemed majestic enough. So I went with it. 

I was fine until the day before. Then the doubts came. “What have I done? I would’ve been better off with etheric sound effects than a concert. They’re going to hate it. It’s an art installation, not a rock show.”

I was a basket case. I promptly blew the electricity in the apartment where we were staying because I didn’t use a transformer with my old reverb unit. I couldn’t get my head screwed on right. My girlfriend who joined me on the trip tried to talk me off the cliff but I was struggling.

Later that night we went to dinner with our friend who flew in from Italy for the weekend, and finally I relaxed. Trust, right? The whole concept of my show. “Nothing I can do now. I did this for me. As recently as yesterday, I thought it sounded good, so I need to roll with it. It is what it is.”

So I wake up the next day feeling good. We see a few sights in the morning and take the train to the bridge in the afternoon. It’s a beautiful day.

When we get to the bridge, I set up, plug in, and Adrian turns up the PA loud. Loud is good. We hang out for a little while, and then it’s time. I start with my light intro music and build up from there. The concept of the set opens with this naïve bravado kind of space, ultimately ending in a humble determination to continue forward. I turn my head to the left as the sun sets over the Seine. Sound my from guitar is everywhere. I can feel the bridge vibrate under my feet. I’m in Paris. Everyone is watching. Good crowd. I've never sounded quite like this.

It’s not often in life I can say I’ve had an actual and completely new experience. This was one of those times. Everyone was so nice and appreciative that I came so far and put so much into it. And this is where words fail me. As I profusely thanked everyone after my first set via Adrian who translated for me, I felt tears welling up so I stopped talking before it got ugly. Or beautiful. However you want to see it.

Two days later, we went to visit a suburb where I had another profound experience in 2009 and it’s as special and incredible as I remember. And this time I got to share it with my beautiful girlfriend.

The once in a lifetime experience I was hoping to have, I did, in fact have.

Today I feel different. Again. I’ve been changed. Again. And I can’t help but to see the irony in going to Paris to perform a concert about bridging the gap between 2 chapters of a man’s life, coming home to realize that the experience itself has carried me across the void to a new chapter in my own life. Art leading life. Or is it art reflecting life? Or is it the other way around?

Funny how things are. And all I had to do was say yes. Sort of. 

DEADLINES, TRUST AND 6 FOOT FLOOR LAMPS

It's been another long gap on here because I've been pouring my thoughts into my next round of artwork for a new show in LA in October, and some new songs I’m preparing for a special performance coming up in Paris. Deadlines are motivating, but they can also be stressful.  I don’t mind working a lot. I’m used to that. It’s not the hours. It’s knowing that I need inspired ideas to pull it off. Where will they come from? And how can I create the space for them to happen and still get all the associated work done? This is where I feel the pressure. And this is where trust comes into play.

I decided to use it as the topic of both shows. This idea of trust. Not so much trusting another person (although it applies here too. I don’t think we can truly trust someone else unless we trust ourselves at some level), but trusting that “the idea” will come. Trusting that things will work out. Trusting that little voice in my head that says “fix this bit over here,” or “perfect. Move on.” I grew up not listening to that voice. I’d listen to everyone else. Do you think it’s ok? If you do, then so do I. I defined myself by it, and I defined my success by it. It’s an idea I worked on for years, but the decision to change it was overnight. Some things really can be simple.

As an experiment, I stopped complaining recently. I stopped trying to troubleshoot situations. I stopped trying to give advice, especially when it wasn’t asked for. I realized how many of my conversations with friends, family and strangers centered around finding solutions to what was wrong. Wrong in the world. Wrong in a given situation. I’ve never seen myself as a “negative” person, but I didn’t realize how much evergy I was spending overcoming obstacles. Or helping someone else to do it.

What if it’s all fine? Not that I don’t look for solutions as I need them. I’m currently trying to figure out how to make 6 foot floor lamps with heads and bodies and ship them to Paris for my show. A solution I haven’t found yet and have about 3 more days to do it. But that’s far more interesting to me than wrestling with how I feel about my work situation or worrying if the money is going to run out. 

Now I feel boring. It’s totally hilarious. Conversations are shorter and I don’t have a whole lot to say. But I’m getting more done. And I’m happier. Whatever gets done for these shows gets done. Then I’ll go to the next thing.

I’m grateful for the opportunities I have and the beautiful people I have in my life (this includes you if you’re reading this).  Thank you for all the kind notes about my health. I continue to improve and think about it as little as possible. 

Here’s a painting I did for my current show in LA at Slash Salon. They're having an opening reception this Monday the 10^th. Please come and hang out. The night is free. Details here. 

SOMETIMES IT'S GOOD TO BE WRONG

I haven’t posted in awhile. I just haven’t had a whole lot to say. 

A lot has happened, but nothing has changed. Yet somehow everything is different. 

The right people keep saying the right things to me. I love it when I get into this kind of zone. I’m open. It can be hard to route water into a new direction when it’s eroded itself a nice, deep, comfortable trench. Rocks only pick up speed rolling downhill. Math tells us it takes an active force to change the course of any mass. Since no outside force in my life has come in to make a change, I decided I need to be that force. 

I have a good life by most units of measurement, but stress took its toll on me physically and emotionally. I was doing the “right things” in order to have a better tomorrow, “sucking it up” until this temporary situation passed. Basically, throwing away today. The thing about tomorrow is, it never really comes. I learned this from my travels. But evidently I refiled it in my brain. I forgot. 

My friend Michael said to me the other day, “do you really even know what you want? What if everything you wanted to happen when you were younger, actually did? Who would you be today?”  

He had a good point. Do I really know what I want? 

I thought I knew, but I wasn’t happy back then. Or fulfilled. One tiny avenue of creativity opened for me and I hoped that I would have enough “success” someday to branch out. But would that perhaps have made it worse? What if I actually made money and millions of people viewed me a certain way? Would the prison have been even more difficult to break out of? Probably.

I never would’ve been fulfilled creatively in my old bands. There was a whole other side to me I wasn’t exploring, didn’t even consider exploring, and didn’t believe in. Just a dull burn somewhere in my gut waiting for its day. 

It’s easy to look back and say “what if?” But what if this really is the better path and I lucked out? I remember wanting more spotlight. It was never enough. When the interview was over, I felt like I had just started. Sure, partly because I was young and just wanted the attention. But it was also deeper. I wasn’t getting “it” out. I had more to say and more to give. 

I feel differently today. All avenues are open and I’m grateful to be where I’m at. And I’m aware now that I’ve barely taken two steps down the path I’m now on. I’m reevaluating everything. What are the parts of me I’m afraid to show you? To let you hear? Where am I afraid to fail? That’s where I want to go. 

MY LIFE IS UNFINISHED

Last Saturday I wound up in the Emergency Room for chest pain. It wasn’t my idea. An urgent care doctor made me go. The pain wasn’t terrible, but a little scary. I thought I was dehydrated from overwork and lack of fluids. I’d been working 12-14 hour days without getting up from my desk. Too many hours without movement. Not enough water. Seemed simple enough….

So the doc runs an EKG to make sure my heart is ok. After a few minutes, he comes back in and says I have an electrical blockage of some kind. Instead of rehydration, he gives me a nitro glycerin tablet and tells me that legally he needs to call an ambulance…unless I want to waive that right. The pain isn’t THAT bad. I’m dumbfounded. What’s happening right now? I tell him I’ll drive myself.

Emergency Rooms are good places to stay out of. Especially when you’re the patient. It turns out that chest pain is the fast track in the ER because they don’t want people keeling over on the waiting room floor. Who knew? So I get called in quick. They put me in a little isolated curtain, but I can hear everything. People moaning, kids crying, and some poor woman vomiting in the bathroom. Another guy across the way is explaining to the nurse how much he’s been drinking. A fifth of vodka before work, etc.  

You have to be a saint to work in a place like this. I don’t know how they do it. Everyone was really nice. The nurse puts me on a monitor, asks a bunch of questions and the ER doc takes tests. And then nothing. I wait. Staring at my feet, with my shoes still on, in a gown on a gurney. Some quality time alone. 

Then the questions come. Am I having a heart attack? What have I done to myself? Will I have to spend the night here? What if I need emergency surgery? I don’t know what’s wrong, but I know the culprit. Stress. Over the past couple years I met a beautiful girl. I started painting. There has been a lot of great stuff. But I also stopped traveling because the money ran out. I’ve neglected my music. I slipped into survival mode out of “necessity.” I’m selling more and more of my life just to pay bills. I’m barely breaking even. The canyon between what I love to do and what I have to do has grown. All this effort. And my reward is this gurney.

As I get older I understand the choices people make more deeply. I have more compassion. When I was a kid, I thought I had a lot of things figured out. It turns out, I didn’t see the whole picture. It’s easier to wind up here than I thought.

The questions continue. What if this is some drastically life changing event? Or worse? How do I feel about my life so far? 

One word comes to mind. Unfinished. My life is unfinished. For whatever reason, I’ve always had this sense that I’m here for a reason. There’s something that I’m supposed to do. I don’t know what that is exactly, but I do know that if I died or became incapacitated today, I’d feel like I didn’t get it done. It’s not a good feeling.

All the songs I’ve been toying with. Unfinished. All the paintings. My book. Unfinished. Great ideas are gifts. And I’ve been wasting them. 

So after 2 rounds of tests and a chest X-ray, the doc comes in and tells me he’s letting me go. The blood test says I’m not having a heart attack, and perhaps my chest pains are from muscular inflammation in my chest cavity. “If it gets worse, come back. If not, go see an internist first thing next week.” And that’s it. I walk out to my car, put the keys in the ignition and just sit there. What just happened?

Since then I’ve had various tests. All inconclusive. Like most things in life, it’s all landing in a grey area. I still hurt but it’s not awful. I’m trying to take it easy. I work for a couple hours at a time and then stretch. I’m drinking a ton of water.  

My rent isn’t going away. My responsibilities aren’t going away. But I already knew it was time to make some changes. I don’t do well in one place. I never have. I like to wander. I like to create. I’m not doing enough of any of that and my body decided to speak up.

Message received. It’s hard to go against inertia. To change the current tide. But I have to do it. I will do it. I have good “reasons” for winding up here. We always do. Everything always makes sense in our little brains, no matter how ludicrous it may sound to everybody else.  

HOPE IS EVERYTHING

I think hope is everything. 

We don’t have to be successful. We don’t have to achieve our goals. We don’t have to find the one true love of our lives. We just have to have hope that tomorrow can be as good or better than today. That's all it takes to keep going.

Suicide touched my life twice yesterday. I woke up to not only the news that Don Cornelius from “Soul Train” shot himself, but  a good friend of mine had taken his own life as well. I watched “Soul Train” when I was a kid, but bombs feel bigger when they land close to home. 

My friend lived in Chicago. I met him on tour in the 90’s. We knew each other for more than twenty years. After losing touch for awhile, we reconnected via the internet. We emailed regulalry. He would come to LA on business once a year and we would have dinner. I looked forward to it every year. We vacationed in Florida together a few years ago with another close friend. I introduced him to the pecan pie at House of Pies in East Hollywood. If he’d lived closer to House of Pies maybe things could’ve been different. Not just for the pie, but he would’ve been further away from his situation at home. 

I've wanted to die during 2 periods of my life. I considered suicide seriously during one of those times (if you’re concerned, it was a long time ago :) The circumstances are different for everyone. For me, my dreams came crashing down after I felt so close to achieving them, and then the love of my life left. I thought I had nothing. I was broke. She was gone. It turned out to be one of the most profound and incredible periods of my life. The only real reason I didn’t follow through with it was because I figured, while it could make me feel better (or not at all which would still be better), I also had this concern, what if it didn’t? What if there is more, and it doesn’t fix it? If I wind up some miserable disembodied spirit floating around I’d be pissed. I didn’t want to be the ghost on a reality show. That would be worse. 

So I told God to go to hell. I wrote miserable songs about feeling miserable. I was a cliche. I felt like I had nothing to lose and it set me free. I started talking to people I used to be too shy to talk to. Girls responded to my new headspace and I got dates. I started singing. All because I just didn’t care anymore. Then I realized I’d been caring about the wrong things. It wasn't God, the Universe or even bad luck. I was too concerned about what you thought, and what I thought was “right.” None of which really mattered. In adjusting myself to who I thought you wanted me to be, I lost myself. I learned more in that period of my life than any time before that. It was a breakthrough. 

My friend also lost everything he felt made his life worth living. And with nothing left to lose, he was starting to feel better. He asked me about a song he wrote last week that now I’ll never hear. He seemed to be feeling better. I’m not sure exactly what happened that made him turnabout and make the other choice. And I don’t know where it all would’ve led for him, but I wish he could’ve had the opportunity to experience what I did. I hope I was a good friend. I tried to be. Wherever you are my friend, I will miss you. I forgive you. Walk forward in peace. 

Don Cornelius had all the best musical acts on Soul Train and I wanted to see them. I wasn’t aware of all the cultural barriers he was breaking or how much of a brave visionary he was. I just liked the show. I don’t know what happened with him either. I know nothing about Don or his life. But if he did in fact do this by his own hand, i’d guess that for whatever reason he lost hope. The possibility of tomorrow wasn’t worth enduring the pain of today. I wish you all the best, Don Cornelius. Thank you for making my weekends better and introducing me to so many great acts when I was so young. I hope tomorrow looks better from wherever you are. 

It's always the "great guy" or "great girl." It's rare that I get news that some miserable bastard took his own life. Maybe it's not newsworthy because in those cases no one truly cares. But it’s a crowded planet. More often than not I think there is more love out there for us than we know. We might reject it because it's not the love we're looking for, but it's there. As alone as we sometimes feel, we touch more people’s lives than we think. Famous or not. 

I GOT SICK. THANK GOD.

I got sick this week. Normally when I feel it coming on, I get bummed out. It puts a wrinkle in my plans. I get behind in work. This time however, it turned out to be a gift. It forced me to take a nap. I took some time off work. I watched a couple of art movies i’ve been wanting to see which were both totally inspiring, and I learned some things. I started recording a song I’ve been putting off because i was too busy (I can record in my pajamas at my desk. Actually pretty relaxing). 

We even watched “I Am” last night. It’s a documentary by Tom Shadyac (director, Ace Ventura and a ton of other huge comedies) who had a life changing fall and rethought his life. The movie was much more scientific in nature than I expected. I thought it would be a touchy feely thing about how our priorities are all screwed up. And how love will conquer all. In the end, it sort of was about all that. But from a scientific perspective. How we are hard wired not for wars, greed, competition and loneliness, but for community. He basically says that our “me first” society goes against nature and will ultimately be our civilization’s demise if we don’t change it. They point to all kinds of examples in nature. it was fascinating. 

When it was over and we popped on some regular tv, It was hard to watch. The headspace that he talked about in the movie is visible on almost every channel. The news, stupid shows and the onslaught of promotion which usually only gives me mild nausea became unwatchable. 

Now that my cold is in its final stages, the trick is to stay in this head space. To not allow myself to get sucked back down by all my obligations and responsibilities. They are piled up, there is no doubt. The thing is, I don’t really need to think about it. It’s all there. i know it’s there. i know what is on the list. I don’t have to constantly look at it and think about it. My priorities have landed back on the things that matter most to me, which is a place i struggled to get to on my own. I am finally in a flow, chipping away at all my projects. 

So thank God for those tiny little microbes i picked up from someone at a party or the market. If you’re feeling overwhelmed like I was, at the next party you go to, i highly recommend spending some quality time with a runny nosed kid. 

GROUNDHOG DAY. Sayonara 2011!

I couldn’t sleep last night. I had too much on my mind. I flipped through the guide channel to find something mindless to watch, noticing that most of my favorite late night shows were still on holiday. I happened to see “Groundhog Day” in the listings. I love that movie, and haven’t watched it for a long time so I figured I’d put it on for a few minutes.

The brilliance of this movie still blows me away. For some cosmic reason Bill Murray wakes up in the same day every day. Most of us have felt this way at some point. Days can sometimes look frighteningly similar. It’s a clever concept, but it’s the emotional arc he travels through in this movie that is genius and real to me.

He wants the girl. He tries to manipulate her. He learns everything about her to please her and win her over. He does all the “right” things. It almost works but he blows it. He’s not genuine and she winds up seeing through the act.

He then realizes he can’t “make it happen” and there is no way out. He loses it. He stops caring all together because it’s useless. He even tries to kill himself. Many times. Still doesn’t work. He finally surrenders to his situation and gets honest with himself and everyone. He becomes more humble through the tragedy of his experiences. You think this is the end, but it’s not. He has a nice day with her, but it still doesn’t set him free.

With all other options exhausted, he decides to make the most of it. He takes piano lessons. Learns to sculpt ice. He tries to make everybody’s day better. She’s intrigued and finally falls for him. A new him. And he’s free. It’s a new day.

I’ve gone through all of this in my life at various times in various ways. I want what I want. Whether it’s the girl, the money, the fame, whatever. Things don’t go my way. I get frustrated. I try to stick it out, but still nothing happens. I then give up and stop caring because it all seems useless.

A mentor of mine once said that when we make a decision to change something in our lives, the universe tests our resolve. I don’t know if it’s true, but it seems like it sometimes. And if it is true, then my resolve was tested this year.

I won’t miss 2011. I was a tough year. It’s hard to keep my sights set on the things I want when I’m exhausted at the end of the day. 2012 will be interesting. I’m determined to make changes. I’m proud of some of the things I’ve done, but I know my life isn’t being lived exactly right. And I need to change that. I tried to do the “right” things. Didn’t work. I gave up. That didn’t work either. It’s time now for me to make the most of it.

I wish you a “most of it” 2012 J