Sunday, February 18, 2007

My Life This Week...

Current mood: chipper

Warhol is everywhere. Last week Tony and I went to see Factory Girl. Sienna Miller was great and all, but this movie IN NO WAY can compare to the gratification of reading about the actual people involved. Not to mention how fabulous they looked in real life...Gerard...etc.

And then I get a bulletin from Cynthia about the newest show at her gallery in NYC - a Warhol tribute marking the anniversary of his death, with readings/art by folks who were *there* like Taylor Mead, etc.

"In the twenty-year anniversary of Warhol's death, The Carrozzini von Buhler Gallery presents Andy Warhol: In His Wake, a group exhibition of works by four well-known celebrity artists from Warhol's Factory: Ultra Violet, Taylor Meade, Billy Name, and Ivy Nicholson. Also featured will be Anton Perich, William John Kennedy, and Steve Joester, three artists who documented Warhol, as well as seven artists who have been influenced by him including: Cynthia von Buhler, Amy Cohen Banker, Pamela Martin, William Tisdale, Molly Weingart, and Gary Azon. Andy Warhol: In His Wake will feature paintings, sculptures, projections, and photography by exhibiting artists."

Unfortunately I can't make the reception...but I hope to catch the show before it closes (3/14).

A highlight of the week was a lovely concert I attended Friday night at the Isabella Gardner Museum. It was a programme of Conlon Nancarrow (American, 1912-1997), mainly, though there was one piece by Ciconia. That piece was put on the program to point out the similarity in ratios used between the 2 composers, etc. The Tapestry Room, in which the concert was held was so wonderful. I felt right at home, as it reminded me of the vibe of Castle von Buhler the Former. Red tapestries, Moorish arches, medieval paintings, low gentle light, dark wood panels. Working for the Countess was a very important experience in my life...

Anyway, it was a treat to hear unamplified music. It's been awhile...not so much my province as of late.

Another pleasant treat was the bouquet I received on Wednesday. Twelve blood red velvet roses, in a black vase, adorned with feathery plumage. Most exotic, and evocative of a bleeding heart...replete with a most romantic note...

I've got an appearance this week ~ sitting in on vox with Garvy J at Ralph's in Worcester. Mmm. Diner food!! Anyway, I love this band. Check 'em out at http://myspace.com/garvyj.

I realize I am forever obsessed with Epicurean interests, and some of you may find it laughable, but it makes me happy. Yesterday, I happened upon a lovely little wine tasting in Marty's...I tried 2 reds from the Calabria region in Italy. Very nice.

Busy week ahead. Rehearsals, preparing for the next batch of recording with Martin, show, session with Danny Gold for Alice's film, possibly the Rev. Glasseye finale show, then to NYC to record.

Looking forward to going to Rome next month. Finished the Da Vinci book. Now on to Musashi!

Currently listening :
Riot City Blues
By Primal Scream
Release date: By 22 August, 2006

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

BIG RECORDING & MORE

Current mood: melancholy
Category: Life

OK, so I started blogging on the Black Fortress of Opium page about the recording sessions this past weekend in NYC, with Martin Bisi.

http://myspace.com/blackfortressofopium

Pix by Tony coming soon, too:)

But this is more of a personal page, so I won't just repeat the same info.

Overall, it went so well, and our record might just be done by my birthday...that makes me quite happy.

There is a rough screening of the film I've been doing music for this weekend; I'm looking forward to seeing it.

New York was fun. I didn't make it into Manhattan this time; just Brooklyn. But Park Slope was good enough...I mean, I was essentially working my ass off. Play time comes later. The last night we were in NYC, Tony and Martin and I went to Union Hall and hung out. We ate killer chili, and cookies!

The band is sounding scary good.

~~~~~
Went to the doctor yesterday. Was supposed to have a pap, but couldn't because of the moonblood. Fine by me. Had plenty to tell Dr. Mankey anyway.

Before my appointment, I felt my mood turning somewhere ugly. Only when I set foot in the hospital and my knees felt wobbly did I realize why. Anxiety. Mega-dose.

I was very traumatized from the week I spent not that long ago visiting my mom in the hospital in Houston before she died. I hadn't had cause to go to the hospital here since then. And I guess being in the same environment affected me. Oh my God. As soon as I got in there, I went to get some food. I sat down ALONE. Feeling completely ALONE. So fucking sad. I was SO LOW. I started thinking about the other people there. It was packed. I wondered if they were in the same position as I had been only a month ago - watching someone they love die a horrible death.

Death death all around.

Christ. This Friday the band is doing a benefit for Scott Dakota's brother, Jon Erik, whom I don't think I ever met. He suffered a grand mal seizure and passed away. For the first time in my life, I can say I know what Scott's going through...

It felt funny sending out an email for the show about this person (essentially a stranger to me), when I haven't publicly enough acknowledged my own mother's death.

So I told my doc about what happened and she was very nice and understanding. She asked how I'm holding up. {We didn't discuss any medical conditions at all} Funny, I don't hear that question from anyone anymore. I guess everyone thinks I'm fine because I'm still working and doing shows, etc. My father said I'm a private person and now I see why. My mom always said I was too independent and now I see why.

I lock others out. I build walls no one can penetrate. I isolate myself and it hurts.

The doctor suggested seeing a therapist to help deal with my mom's death. Dad said mom's friends have given him pamphlets on support groups. He's unsure...

I told the doctor I have a hard time reaching out. I don't wanna be a burden or owe anyone. She said but that's what humanizes me...I had to ask her how to reach out because I don't know. I'm tentative. I felt so ashamed and humiliated that I don't know how to reach out. Admitting it...I think that brought back memories of seeing a therapist a few years back, and discoveries I made about myself during the session.

Perhaps I will see someone. I just hope it can help me learn how to let the people I love in, because I desperately want to. I need them more than they have any idea. And I know they wanna be there for me. And while they are there...

This blog helps me so much.

There is so much sadness inside me, my heart feels dirty. I swear I can feel stuff swirling around in there...sludge of sadness and emptiness and despair.

Time is speeding along. It's already been a month since she died. Will someone please stop the goddam clock so I have time to cry out every last tear my body can produce? I feel like I can't get it all out. I'm even drinking detox tea today...

I'm not looking forward to how much this is gonna hurt for the rest of my life.

And I've realized some of my newest songs predicted these feelings about my mom {as happened before TQ/Scott became less in my life, with Model Cafe} . Lyrics like "Bury me in my own tears" from one song.

Here's another I wrote over one year ago:

I can feel a flood coming on
I can sense a breakdown
I am too filled up, flowing over
I am too filled up, full

No cup can contain this system
Toxic
Filling up with poison
No cup can contain this system
Toxic
Filling up with, welling up with poison

That is like the sum of my tears and the poison that killed my mom. Her own system backing up.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Buzz and Goo

Reading of events surrounding Valentine's Day.

Those with a dearly beloved wanna celebrate and those without wanna bitch gripe and wallow. Or just ignore it all.

But there are pictures of gooey filled chocolate hearts arriving in my mailbox making me wanna devour them. Things so pretty, how dare I eat them or even contemplate such a crime. And then what to do with the box afterwards. Last year I held onto the box I got for awhile. 'Til it collected dust and the relationship fell apart multiple times.

~~~

I am abuzz with thoughts and heart and belly fire today. Can barely type this without mistakes my mind is speeding so rapidly. No caffeine yet, even.

Psyched on this weekend. To begin my masterpiece.

I hope to see some friends while there, including my dear Cynthia, whom I have not seen in so long. I hope to relax in the City the day after the sessions.

I fucking deserve and need it after everything.

Tom came into work today. Hadn't seen him since before Mom died. We corresponded only minimally in the months leading up to it. He looked at me and said he couldn't believe what had happened, that it was so sad. I immmediately hugged him. I looked at him, and he knew I was about to cry, and said "Now don't". In a fatherly tone. But I couldn't help it. I teared up and hugged him again.

Something about seeing a familiar face of someone who knows you so well and knows the pain you feel despite the front everyone else sees...it just made me react. Felt safe.

I felt mildly comforted, but this was the workplace. A few others who were standing around noticed that something in the air had changed. They got quiet. Respectfully quiet. Except for the one girl I work with who has never acknowledged to me that she knows my mom died. She's not said anything to me, like I'm sorry...or done anything even remotely civil in such a situation...

I hate the awkwardness this makes me feel.

I need comforting. Still. Now. Yes. More than ever. For you see, it's slowly sinking in that she's really gone and not sending me any more clothes, cooking Thanksgiving dinners, buying me birthday cakes with my name on them, or loving me in the flesh.

Yeah yeah you say, but she's with you more than ever...well it's not the same so don't lie to me.

Then there's the issue of my heritage. Christ, Allah, Buddha. I'm not even to the age yet where I naturally wanna dig up my roots. I accept that it is now up to me to maintain my heritage and not lose it in the mainstream of America. An infant nation with little history. A spec of sand in time that fancies itself something great - all-knowing and seeing. Pompous.

It's hard because I foolishly have not cultivated any Turkish acquaintances here in Boston. 10 years later. All the Turks I know and trust are in Houston or Türkiye. Two half worlds away in opposing directions.

Still, love inspires me. And art. Reading about Da Vinci from a treasured source. He inspires me. With his beautiful hands...and Italian body. He is like a fine painting himself. And an artiste.

When I was in college, I was in love with the image of Anima Sola - the girl in a nightgown enaptured in flames. It adorns a Leonard Cohen album back cover...I feel my flames (Double Aries) rising up and swirling within.