Coming clean, so to speak.

Well, it is now well more than a month since I last posted. True, I was on tour for two weeks (which, p.s., was brilliant!), but still, that's a long time to go when you're really trying to be good about keeping up with a blog. I stand by my decisions, though. After all, if you read the little section to the right, I clearly and honestly stated that I don't like blogging, and here I will add the caveat: "even when I have something to blog about."

I am the first to admit that I may have bitten off more than I can chew with this task. It's great in theory, but in practice, it's really quite difficult. With music stuff, contract jobs that come in, and other day-to-day things, keeping up a schedule of routine, daily cleaning is almost an impossibility. Well, if I were Superman, I'm sure I could make it all work, but alas, the Man of Steel I am not.

Sigh.

Am I giving up? No. Am I amending the blog? Yes.

I'll clean regularly but not beat up on myself for not being perfect, and I'll blog when I feel like it. How 'bout them apples?

Martha Wept.

Well, Martha would weep if she walked up in here.

OK, it's not that bad, but I have been very lax in my attempts to keep up with the housework, the blog, and any number of other things. Not that I'm making excuses for myself, people, but I have been busy.

Much of my time has been taken up with house guests, as well as the sad-song writing contest I organized and hosted, the Amanda Cup. It was a ton of fun, and the work was all worth it. If you missed it, worry not. We'll be having another such event in about six months, and then the 2nd annual Amanda Cup will take place next March. Fun to follow, folks!

I've also been sick, but I'm feeling better, thankyouverymuch.

This post will be very short, as there is a house to clean, and practice to do (seeing as Julia and I head out on tour next week!).

So, here endeth the post.

Forgive me Martha, for I have sinned.

Another week down, and what a week it was, folks.

I can't give you a list of what cleaning got finished, except to say that things were definitely cleaned, but nothing special managed to get handled. I was simply holding down the fort. You see, what I've noticed about the cleaning calendar is (if you want to do it perfectly, that is) you have to devote yourself to it with matrimonial zeal, otherwise, it simply will not work. It demands that you have nothing else to do.

A middle road is being sought and built. I'll maintain everything, and do the every now and again things as often and as soon as possible. With that in mind, I will not be beating myself up if the metal door knobs don't get polished.

The music conference was...well...I don't know how to put it. I suppose it's good enough to say that it was "eye-opening" if nothing else. Other adjectives, such as exhausting and brutal could also be used (and I was only there for one day; my poor friends who were there for four days really had a run through the wringer). As I was not showcasing at the conference, the chance of booking a show at any of the schools present and scouting talent was slim to none, so I was there to meet people and test the waters. There was a lot to do, and the possibility that nothing would come of it.

However, remembering my days working in career services at a law school, I knew that networking is the only way to really get work of any kind, so I schmoozed as much as I possibly could, met some really nice folks, and connected with people at schools that might be a good fit for what I do.

The next day, I spent time at home cleaning and thinking about where my music career is, and where I want it to go. More than that, I thought about what I was willing to do, how I was willing to rearrange my life, in order to make music the central theme of my working days. Where am I willing to play? What gigs am I willing to take on? How much control would I be willing to let a manager have? Would I be capable of taking honest advice and direction in order to advance, all while refusing to back down on my personal and artistic beliefs? What does success mean? What am I completely unwilling to do? What, exactly, is this "selling out" artists talk about, and how will I know if I'm there?

These were the contents of my head as dust was brought up, dishes were washed, food was cooked, emails were sent, etc., etc., etc. As per usual, there are no immediate answers, but I'm figuring things out. I will be going to another one of the conferences next year, after I've had some time to rearrange and get my marketing materials where I need them to be. Like watching my brother tell my mom "no" when I was little and seeing what the consequences of such actions were, this recent conference was a lesson, and I plan to learn it well.

Of course these are all things that I have come to after several days of thought. The day immediately following the conference, having seen so many people wanting to get booked, so much energy going into the business of entertainment, it was easy to be down and frustrated...

And that's when the Muse dropped by. She always likes to pick these moments.

You see, other than this blog (which is still very new), I don't keep a journal. My songs are my only time to process my thoughts and emotions into words. So, this time, the muse whispered to me, and I wrote a short, deeply depressing little ditty called "Smiles at a Trade Show." We'll see if it's good enough for the next CD, but as far as I was concerned at that moment, it was like hitting the jackpot.

Thank you, Muse. It was good to see you again.

It's not that I haven't been cleaning, people.

Really, I have been...

Marco and I had company from Thursday through Sunday, and there's another set of company coming in tomorrow and staying through Sunday. We enjoyed our weekend, and are looking forward to our other friends coming it, too! With so many goings-on, I certainly have been cleaning the house (what with people coming and going), but I just haven't had the time to write about it all yet.

So, I will be skipping the cleaning details. Suffice it to say that I have not managed to get to many of the "spring" items, but have only been able to keep up with the daily and weekly regular tasks.

During all this time, my mind has been whirling. You see, the next group of visitors to arrive are The Ukulady and her crew; together, we'll all be headed to a collegiate booking convention, with the hopes of getting some shows lined up together or separately (although I'm hoping for something together, which would ROCK!). I know it will be a ton of fun, but this is the first such conference I have ever attended, so I'm not quite sure what to expect. Of course, I'll know soon enough; Thursday will be here before I realize it!

With the conference coming up, as well as a show that I'm emceeing at the end of the month, and the tour next month (with my friend Julia Carroll), the last few days, between visiting with friends and scrubbing, my music life has been mostly filled with designing fliers and sending emails. Not much time for playing. Of course, as Barbara pointed out in her latest comment, it's important to create the space and time every day for creativity, even if nothing comes of it. Well, kids, I'm working on it. Send me some good energy.

Speaking of, the other night, the Muse didn't bring me anything new, but we did have a nice time getting reacquainted.

Alas, I need to get a move on. I adore you all; however, the laundry won't fold itself, nor will the kitchen clean itself.

A list completed.

If it seems odd to read "vacuum mattress, box spring, and bed frame" on a to do list, I assure you it feels even more odd to actually accomplish the task. I imagine I am now on a very short list of people on the planet who have gone through with it. I feel pretty good about it; that could also have something to do with the fact that I managed to finish everything on my to-do list today (the bedroom was on tap, and I managed to get everything dusted, all the bedding washed and changed, pillows and comforter fluffed, the aforementioned bed-vacuuming and turning of the mattress, and the floor swept, vacuumed and dry mopped). And it's only 8:00 p.m. Go me.

I've been thinking about the muse today; it's been a while since I've been in her presence. True, my mind has been awfully crowded and cluttered lately, and that certainly doesn't help. As with the rest of the world, I'm concerned about the financial situation, conflicts erupting and stewing across the globe, day-to-day goings-on, what's for dinner, and a million other things that flutter and flit around my head like so many gnats. The muse is happy to talk about those things with me, but she demands that I give her complete attention when she comes around; I have to be willing to drop everything and follow her. Unfortunately, I've been too distracted lately. Maybe this is why she's staying away.

So, I'm going to sign off here, ignore any other housework that needs doing, and pick up my guitar. I really do need to practice for an upcoming studio session, but who knows, maybe just being in the moment, and allowing myself to follow the notes wherever they lead will entice the muse to come around.

Fingers crossed.

Nothing stays dust-free.

I remember once talking to a friend of my mom's; she told me that she started making her children wash their own laundry when they turned 12 or 13. Maybe it was 8. Either way, it was when they were young. But that's not the point.

She did this because she called laundry the "most thankless task" ever invented. She didn't want to do it, and it was bad enough she had to do her own, let alone everyone else's. So, the moment they were old enough to handle the task without wrecking things, they started taking their own wash to the modern river, washboard in hand.

This is how I feel about dusting. It is a thankless task, and I'd really rather not do it. True, no matter how much you clean, you will always end up, sooner than you may think possible, back doing the exact same thing again. But dusting is different; the moment you finish, new dust has already settled. The dice are stacked against you.

So tonight, while attacking the living room, contemplating the dust and the ever-grosser dusting cloth, I thought of practicing scales back when I took guitar lessons twenty-something years ago. My, how time flies. Of course, the scales didn't fly with me. Ah no, I left those behind in my guitar teacher's basement room. Scales were thankless tasks, and they bored me.

Has this affected my songwriting? Most likely. See, the musical structure is important to me, but I really feel like lyrics are where the action is. I take great pride in them in my song crafting. Had I practiced my guitar more often and with more intensity, I would likely play I great deal better than I do now, but would my lyrics have suffered? Who knows. Maybe.

I'll take things the way they are. My fingers still don't want to play those damned scales. Or dust that end table ever again.

Cleaning shelves and thinking of how calm Barry Manilow looks...

Ah, the cyclical nature of house cleaning; I was back in the kitchen today. Rather, I was back in the kitchen this evening. Nothing really started until 8:00. It's been a long day.

What got accomplished:

*Surfaces cleaned, cupboard doors washed, and the inside shelves of all the above-the-counter cupboards
*Sinks, counter tops, and rage cleaned
*Microwave cleaned, toaster cleaned
*Light fixtures dusted (yes, Emily, I actually did them)
*Inside and outside of trashcan wiped down

The rest is going to have to wait until tomorrow or later this week. I'm just too tired.

You see, I was in the studio today. The computer determined that it was ready to come back out and play, and I snuggled up to the microphone to lay down the harmony tracks that I was 89% sure of.

How quickly I fell from 89% back to 50%. It just didn't work, people. Take after take, I either wasn't able to hit the first note dead on, or I would mess up somewhere else in the verse. Frustrated doesn't even begin to cover it. I didn't make it home in a very upbeat mood. Though you might not believe it, the act of recording is exhausting. It requires a lot of concentration, but also demands that you be completely relaxed if you are going to get anything worthwhile accomplished.

Were you to ask my boyfriend if I am capable of relaxing. he would laugh in your face, as would nearly anyone who knows me well. I mean, come on, I've started a cleaning blog. Someone who could relax would have chosen to write about something, anything else. Not me. No ma'am.

So, an inability to relax added to a natural tendency to be nervous when recording harmony vocals = no success at said harmony tracks. That's right folks, nothing I sang got saved. Why? Because it was God-awful.

I needed inspiration. And said inspiration came to me in the form of Barry Manilow (say what you will; Mr. Manilow is brilliant, and I won't hear a word against him). Marco, my boyfriend, was at Sam Flax buying art supplies today and came across a brilliant sketch book made from the album jacket from Barry Manilow's This One's For You. On the inside cover of the book (which would have been the back cover of the album jacket) there's a picture of Barry sitting in a bar stool, cup in his hand, one leg crossed over the other, eyes closed, listening to whatever was going on in the headphones. And. He. Looked. Relaxed. Really relaxed. It was what I needed to have been, and everything that I was not, today.

So the next time I saddle up to that mic, I'm going to keep Barry Manilow in my head, close my eyes, and remember that I'm lucky enough to be making music. And then I'm going to sing the mess right out of those tracks.

Word.

Is Martha ever lazy?

On days like yesterday and today, dear readers, I have to wonder if Martha every once in a while comes home, takes a look around at a house that, for all intents and purposes is clean, and says, "today I think I can skip the smaller stuff"?

Well, that's certainly how I felt yesterday, and I'm fighting the feeling today.

As for yesterday, I got my family off to their next destination (they'll be coming back for weekend visits every now and again for the next three months), and then headed to the recording studio. I'm sure everyone will be happy to hear that I actually felt quite sure of myself where the harmonies were concerned.

Alas, my producer's computer had other ideas and, like a petulant child, wouldn't cooperate despite our best efforts. It said, without equivocation, "not today, gentlemen." Please send the machine some healing energy, as it obviously has some anger issues to work through. I have great hope though; everything is going to work out, and we'll get the vocals recorded as soon as possible. And, finding a pewter lining to the cloud, it gives me more time to solidify the harmonies, and actually start working on harmonies for another song or two. Still people, really, send good vibes to the computer (and to my producer; he's not so pleased right now, as you can imagine).

As for today: there are multiple tasks on the schedule, cleaning and otherwise. There were a lot of things that I didn't manage to get to on Ms. Stewart's list, and I'd rather not have to shift them all off onto next week. So, updates to follow. Until then, I'll be humming harmonies and looking at my calendar trying to decide what I feel like doing.

¡Hasta pronto!

Das Klo (the toilet)

Family from Germany have arrived for a visit, so it was a packed day. But, I did get the bathroom cleaned, and continued with my harmony attempts while cleaning. The good news: I think I'm about 89% set with the harmonies. The bad news: I still have to see if I can make them work in the studio. More on that to follow tomorrow.

G'night folks!

The best laid plans...

Folks, this is where the dream of thorough home cleaning meets the reality of daily life. You see, I've been swamped today, and haven't really finished anything on the cleaning list (wait! I did sweep the kitchen floor, which is on the daily list. Seriously, every day).

So, I didn't start until 8:00 p.m. My brilliant boyfriend, the artist Marco, is at art class tonight, and I am free to dust, scrub, and sing all I want. Actually, I've been talking on the phone with my best friend from seventh grade as I was dusting my office, but I will be singing soon enough (and even sang a bit of a Judy Garland number from the fabulous film In the Good Old Summertime to my friend).

This is all to say that I have no concrete list of accomplished things; however, I will continue cleaning the office and the bedroom after I finish writing this. What part will the music play tonight? Well, I've been working with my friend and producer, Brian Slusher of the band Slushco on some recordings, and I have been given the task of coming up with harmonies for a recording session on Friday. Anyone who has ever recorded with me can tell you one thing: harmonies are not where my talents lie. But, soldier on I must, and so I will be donning my iPod, and playing the songs again and again until something comes to me.

Fingers crossed, folks.

It is my living room, and I want it dust free, thank you very much.

Good people of the world, today the entryway, living room, and hallway were on tap.

I'll go ahead and start the post with what was managed:

*Fluffed and rotated sofa cushions (of our lovely purple velvet sofa)
*Dusted surfaces, objects, furniture, light fixtures (I remembered them today!), and electronics
*Swept, vacuumed, and mopped floors

This took 2 hours and 15 minutes. And to top it all off, I didn't even finish all the things on the list for today! As it stands, I'm running through all of Ms. Stewart's Spring chores in March, and scattering all the duties throughout the month so I won't be doing everything on one day (and, seeing the amount of time involved, I wouldn't be able to get everything done in one day anyway). When added to the daily, weekly, and monthly tasks, the Spring tasks add a lot to do. Spring is the season with the most items on the to-do list, but Summer seems to be the one with the least. So, I'll look forward to less hectic days then.

I did manage make the bed this morning, so we'll see if we can keep that daily task on schedule.

It was also time to replace the baking soda in the fridge. However, I found (at my beloved neighborhood Big Lots) a mesh packet filled with volcanic rock pieces which neutralize odors and can be used in the fridge (even Ms. Stewart mentions these packets in the Handbook). The coolest thing: after a few months you can microwave the packet for a few minutes or hang it in full sunlight for a few hours, and it's ready to go for another three months. No more replacing boxes of baking soda! Reduce, reuse, recycle! Yes.

But enough, dear readers, you must certainly be wondering how my music came into this domestic assault on dust, dirt, and dog hair. Let me tell you...

Once again I tried to keep my mind focused on the music as I performed my tasks. And again, my mind wanted to focus on anything but. To force my hand (well, to force my mind, that is), I determined to turn my life into a musical. I began singing to the muse, asking her to drop by. Now, I've sat through enough horrible musicals in my day to know that you don't need to be given a transcript of my song; what I sang wasn't important. No, what was important was the simple fact that I was singing at all. You see, despite the fact that I am a singer-songwriter, I don't always sing every day, or sometimes even every second or third day. This is a habit that must end.

So, I sang to the dirt. I sang to the clumps of dog hair that are ever present no matter how much I clean. I sang to Simon, the adorable creator of the aforementioned hair. I sang to the mop and the hardwood floors. I sang to my hands.

And, when I determined that I was finished for the day, I went and picked up the 12-string guitar that my dad just sent me (thanks Dad!), tuned it up, and strummed for a while. Some nice chord progressions came, nothing Earth-moving, but still nice. Much like singing, I don't play every day, which is also something that has to change.

And change is the name of this game.

Happy scrubbing, folks!

This day is given unto me a kitchen to clean...

Welcome, folks! Here it is: the much anticipated (or not, depending on who you are) start to my new blog. I will herewith attempt to come to a better understanding of my music and the goals related to my artistic career through the Zen act of scrubbing my house according to the edicts set forth in the Martha Stewart's Homekeeping Handbook.

The Zen act of cleaning? How is that possible? Well, much like chopping wood and hauling water, cleaning requires little intellectual rigor, and as such, your mind is free to contemplate higher things, while your hands are busy. And so, latex gloves donned, cleaning products at the ready, and a calendar filled with the duties I have assigned to myself, I took on the kitchen, and let my mind wander, trying to force it to keep a constant stream of thoughts on music, songwriting, my upcoming tour, etc. I wavered; I thought of other things. I thought of the news, the unseen detritus of economic meltdown we're all being forced to slug through, my dog, the snow that was on the ground outside (a very odd thing for Atlanta, indeed). I thought of anything but music.

I called to the universe for some help, and lo, it arrived. My dear friend, The Ukulady called for a chat. So, I broke the cleaning, and we talked about upcoming music conferences, and the focusing of our craft. It got me back on track. And so, when she and I finished our pleasant little chitchat, I got back to the scrubbing.

This time, I thought of the future I want for me and my music. Outcome: inconclusive. I mean, come on folks, it's only the first day. Surely something groundbreaking will come tomorrow, but as for now, I have a deeply clean kitchen, and a knowledge that this is going to be harder than I though it was (not that I don't already clean my house on a regular basis, mind you. I am no slob). But, the funny thing is, it's not the cleaning that is going to be difficult, it's the training myself to allow my mind to run free, to catch the muse wherever she is, and to coax her to sit on a stool next to me as I clean whatever happens to be on the list that day.

The day's breakdown:
*Cleaned all surfaces, counter tops, the top of the fridge, the sinks, and the cupboard doors
*Cleaned the microwave, toaster, range, and wiped the inside of the oven
*Flushed the drains with boiling water (don't do this if you have a disposal, folks)
*Got rid of old food in the fridge
*Dusted surfaces and objects (forgot the light fixtures; I hope Martha forgives me)
*Vacuumed the refrigerator coil and grill
*Swept, vacuumed, and mopped the floor
*Did two loads of laundry

According to the daily schedule I'm supposed to make my bed without fail. Alright, so I got to it at 6:30 p.m. Better late than never, dearest readers, and even if it doesn't follow the intent of the law, it certainly follows the letter of it.

Time spent: 2.5 hours.

See y'all tomorrow.