SONGWRITING: Awakened by the Muse

I was awakened by the Muse at 5:00 this morning (after getting to sleep past midnight last night.)

Grabbed bedside pencil and paper, diligently wrote down the stanzas in my head. But the Muse insisted I get up and go to the piano.

Now I'm online researching Greek mythology for lyric content at her request.

Ignore her and she goes away to pout. Don't want that.

UPDATE: 20090615

This was one of those rare songs that essentially wrote itself. Two double verses plus a chorus (AAB AAB form), multiple layers of meaning, literary references, chords and melody, all came together within a very short time.

As soon as I'm able to play this song fluently enough, I'll post a rough recording and put up the lyrics.

I want to shorten the distance between song creation and proliferation, not worrying so much about having "radio ready" recordings before letting songs leave the nest for the first time. Trying to short circuit perfectionism and keep it real. I want to open a window into the process as it happens.

Heed the the Muse!

Sharpie Luggage

2 hours to wait in an airport + 1 silver sharpie marker + 1 cheap carry on bag = TADA! Art on Wheels

Would have done more but the sharpie was already mostly used up and ran out of ink. Will pack a fresh one for next time.

As it was, I so focused on what I was doing that I nearly missed the boarding call for my plane.

While I worked (played), the public address system intoned repeatedly:

"Attention airline passengers. Increased security measures require that all passengers maintain close personal contact with their items at all times. Unattended items will be promptly removed by law enforcement personnel. Additionally, report all suspicious items or activities immediately to airport personnel. Your safety is our priority."

Close personal contact with my items? Hmmm.

Though I certainly was attentive to my carry-on bag, did this qualify as a suspicious activity?

Got some funny looks as I sat on the floor scribbling on my bag, but no one reported me.

(c)2009 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

Turntable Turns the Tables on Time

I've just returned from a trip to California for a family visit and work on a special project.

I dug into the stacks of old 45s, 78s and LPs we listened to as kids.

Took my ION portable USB turntable and converted childhood memories into digital audio files (wav and m4a), complete with all the nostalgic crackle, pop and hiss. We played those records by the hour, way back when.

The turntable is durable and lightweight, fit easily into my carry-on bag, raised no eyebrows passing through airport security, and was easy to set-up when I arrived.

When I got back, I found an amazing website that has dozens of Kiddie Records and their associated artwork (jackets, books, etc.) from the mid 1940's through early 1950's available for free download.

[I should make it clear that I wasn't around to hear these records when they were new. They belonged first to my older brothers, my parents and grandparents--already scratched and well loved by the time I came along.]

What does all this have to do with the creative process or living a more contented life?

It's all about reclaiming the vividness of happy childhood memories.

Creative art making is dependent upon the ability to tap into childlike playfulness and curiosity at will. What better way to access this mindset than to revisit joyful times from ones distant personal past?

For me, the pull of these old recordings was irresistible. As I played them I found myself wearing an unsuppressible smile. I finally had to get up and gave in to the urge to dance around.

For me, living a contented life is all about enjoying what is. Happy memories from my childhood are things that will always be mine to enjoy. They cost nothing and offer a guaranteed high.

They also have the added benefit of helping to free my creative work in the present.

When I revisit the things I enjoyed as a 5-year-old it becomes impossible for me to take myself or anything else too seriously. This sort of time travel enables me to approach my art with the spontaneity and fearlessness I felt back then. I can transport those feelings into the here-an-now on the scratchy strains from an old 45.

Now if you'll, please, excuse me. I'm going to go listen again to my favorite well-worn recording of "I'm a Little Teapot," then the "Hukilau" song, followed Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians playing "Stumbling" (link to an original piano roll MIDI file).

(c)2009 Kay Pere ~ Effusive Muse Publishing

QUOTES: "Miracles" from "Leaves of Grass"

WHAT shall I give? and which are my miracles?

Realism is mine—my miracles—Take freely,
Take without end—I offer them to you wherever your
feet can carry you, or your eyes reach.

Why! who makes much of a miracle?
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the
sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the
edge of the water,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love—or sleep in the
bed at night with any one I love,
Or sit at the table at dinner with my mother,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a sum-
mer forenoon,
Or animals feeding in the fields,
Or birds—or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,
Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down—or of stars
shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new-moon
in spring;

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,
Every inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread
with the same,
Every cubic foot of the interior swarms with the same;
Every spear of grass—the frames, limbs, organs, of
men and women, and all that concerns them,
All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.

~ Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass, 1867 edition

[excerpted, read the poem in its entirety HERE]

STUDIO WINDOW: other things to think about #1

Because life is not all gloom and doom, not all health concerns and financial contraction. ..

I'm going to make an effort to post quick snippets about happy everyday things, as an antidote.

#1 OUTSIDE MY STUDIO WINDOW

There is a dogwood tree right outside my studio window who keeps me company as the seasons change. In the past few weeks it has lost all its vermilion leaves. A fine filigree of branches remains, outlined against the sky.

All day squirrels use its branches as a highway from one tree to the next. Fat grey clowns in flannel suits, they carrying nuts too big for their mouths to hold, performing acrobatic feats as they hurrying past on their way to some secret cache.

Occasionally one will catch sight of me watching through the window and freeze in place, as if hoping to become instantly invisible. This is usually followed by loud, menacing chirping sounds and wild waving of a long fluffy tail. The cat may be intimidated by such antics--I just smile.

My studio window faces west, with my computer monitor on a desk in front of it. This morning, over the top if my screen, I watched the last quarter moon on her way toward the horizon. This evening, if I'm lucky, I'll catch sight of a brilliant sunset sky behind the silhouette of my companion dogwood tree's branches.

These are my simple joys today.

:-), Kay

BOOKS: Slow and Messy

Recent reading has included topics often pointed to as character flaws in our hurry-up and get organized culture--slowness and messiness.

While I'm sometimes criticized for moving too slowly and being habitually untidy, I find these characteristics to be essential for my creativity and enjoyment of life.

I need time to think and an abundance of materials around me in order to do any original work. Without the freedom to savor life at an unhurried pace the joy goes out of it. I'm willing to live frugally with both time and money, foregoing things like TV and many consumer goods, to maintain the balance that suits me.

Apparently there are many others who feel the same way. "In Praise of Slowness: Challenging the Cult of Speed" by Carl Honore explores the Slow Movement as expressed through the food we eat, the ways we choose work and live, and the ways we relate to one another.

I highly recommend it.

I've just begun to read "A Perfect Mess: The Hidden Benefits of Disorder," by Eric Abrahamson and David H. Freedman.

Already I'm feeling better about the messy though functional piles that surround me here in my studio.

This book asserts that the hidden costs of organization can, in many circumstances, out weigh the benefits. It challenges the culturally held assumption that messiness is always detrimental to productivity, offering examples and research in support of the opposite view.

Three chapters into this book, I'm excited to see where it is going. I've begun to breath easier after releasing a huge load of guilt over my perpetually untidy surroundings.

Even my reading habits don't flow in an orderly manner. I'm not a one-book-at-a-time kind of reader. I wouldn't want it any other way

At any given moment I'm in the midst of reading dozens of books, fiction and nonfiction, on a wide range of topics, spanning various historical periods. Ideas bump up against each other in the slow turning of pages. They linger together and form new relationships.

Given the choice, I'll let the value of original thought and enjoyment of simple pleasures trump swift and orderly completion, every time.

BTW - On the frugal front, I unsuccessfully attempted to find these books through the public library before resorting to used copies through Amazon.com. Ownership does allow the luxury of making marks and taking my time.