not a violin

A true story about last night.

2012-01-28T14:49:00.003Z

Let me tell you why I love my city.

2012-01-23T23:02:00.002Z

First:

If you haven't read the last post, go and read the last post. Do it now, before reading anymore of this. Or this.

Now:

Let me tell you why I love my city: As Ben and I were walking down to our cha-cha-jive-waltz lessons, we passed a cafe called Jika Jika where I sometimes work. In front of the cafe there are bike racks. And leaning on one of those bike racks was

my bike.

Just as it has always been. An 'Emma' sticker (from aunt Gloria) on the side and a wobbly bell. Mine. Not locked, just leaned. Not damaged. Just taken on some kind of small adventure and then left to rest and wait for me to pass by. It could have been there since Sunday morning.

This is one reason why.

Goodbye, my silver Robin.

2012-01-22T20:06:00.006Z

Anyone who knows me here in Bath, or anyone who has ever visited, or anyone I have gone to see in Bristol, Trowbridge, Bradford-on-Avon, London, Norwich, Marshfield, and so many other places also knows Silver Robin.

Silver Robin was my loyal, wonderful, best-friend of a bike. My little Dawes folder. My car, my horse, my friend.

Dad and I went all the way to Malmesbury to a speciality folding bike shop to get it.

One of my first longer rides was with mom down the canal path for lunch in Bradford on Avon.

I did all of my John-O-Groat's to Land's End training on SR. That's 50 mile rides on 20-inch wheels.

Thanks to SR, I have never taken the bus or driven to work at the university. Never.

I've taken it on trains, tubes, taxis, tarmac and trailers.

We've been on friendship rides with Erin, Mom, Dad, Charlie, Chris, Jeff K., Ryan S., Anne-Marie, Sue, Beth, Tori, Ben M., and so many more.

People get attached to their cars in one way, and to their horses in another. I think the way we get attached to our bikes is somewhere in the middle, and is important and good.

I like that I got Silver Robin with dad and last night, walking home from a fun fun limbo-filled party, when I discovered it gone, stolen, nothing left but the opened lock around a lonely lamppost, I was on the phone with dad. There's a nice circularity to that.

RIP Silver Robin
March 2008 - January 2012

Back at: It.

2012-01-19T19:48:00.004Z

And, January stretches on. Doesn't it? It sure does.

But, part of the stretching, at least, is caused by the fact that we try to squeeeze all our hopes and aspirations for the new year into it. A non-comprehensive list of some of these for me:

1) Gigs

2) Dino Comics by me and my friends

3) Moss

1) has been going well, with three WFTB gigs already this year, two of which were awesome, performance-wise, and all of which were awesome, audience-wise. The last of these three was in London, in a mega hip bar in Hoxton, and a scary-but-necessary chance to see whether I have any actual 'real fans who aren't' a) my friends/family or b) German (no offense to my awesome German fans.) And. Hey. Turns out I do. I actually made money (one reason of many why I don't like gigging in London is this payment policy they have where they ask everyone as they come in, who they have come to see. (There were five bands playing the night I played). And then they only give you the money (50% of the money, in fact) from the people who say they are coming to see you, specifically, over all the other bands. eeeee.) But, yeah! People! Money! This one especially awesome couple who sat near the front and were both wearing ironic wild-life sweaters and came up afterwards to ask when the bugs album would come out were especially neat. Them and another couple, from the back, who were told to come by a friend in New York City who discovered my stuff accidentally while trying to old Tori Amos tracks. So. That's happening again.

2) As we all know (or don't know) I got a dino-comic whiteboard for Christmas. I will be making (/letting) each houseguest/visitor to our flat make a dino-comic with it, and will post the plethora of dino-comics that ensue*. First up, Ben M. (see above.)

3) You'll see.

*Sorry Erin, I was going to post yours, but it got spread-o'd and smudge-o'd in my suitcase. You have to come do another.

New things

2012-01-12T19:38:00.002Z

Hello Everyone.

Hello.

It is a new year. So. Time for some new things.

First, a new drink I invented, thanks to supplies got from Christmas:

-A shot of Kraken Rum (or whatever spiced dark rum. But it's obviously better if it has an octopus on the bottle)*

-A bunch of sparkly water**

-A bit of Maple Syrup***

*thanks Erin!
**thanks Chris!
***thanks Canada!

It's really good. Really. So, that's the first new thing. The second new thing is a new comic, for all of you out there who don't yet read "Hark a Vagrant". Guys. Get in. She comics about Canadian history, Chopin, bikes... This is my gift to you.

Happy 2012 you-all.

eeeee

eeek!

2011-12-27T20:01:00.001Z

And today we fly!

What did the English lecturer call Santa's helpers?

Subordinate clauses

Boxing day and all that.

2011-12-26T14:28:00.001Z

So, I wanted to take my bike out for a spin this morning, but it said it couldn't because it was two-tired.

TODAY! (But kind of not really)

2011-12-25T14:47:00.002Z

Also by Charlie*, over hot chocolate with coconut marshmallows, last night:

What's the difference between theory and practice?

In theory there is no difference.

*He's on fire.**

**Not literally.

Eve.

2011-12-24T22:48:00.002Z

From a christmas cracker, provider of some of the finest jokes in my repertoire:

How does Good King Wenceslas like his pizza?

Deep-pan, crisp, and even.

eve-eve

2011-12-23T14:55:00.002Z

'Twas the day before the day before, and we went for a quite cold, quite bright and early run along the giant and sparkling lake. During that, Charlie came up with this cracker:

Did you hear about the spa that offers a seance relaxation package? The medium is the massage.

Today is December 22nd!

2011-12-22T15:51:00.002Z

I made this one up this morning, while Charlie prepared his coffee with some amazing whole milk in an amazing reusable glass jug.

So, it's tough times, recession and all, for santa's workshop and all subsidiary industries, including the reindeer. Some time around mid-October a rumour starts to circulate that there's going to be some downsizing, and some new, cheaper, easier to source labour brought in. Highly trained and willing to work for way less hay, these replacements were rumoured to be arriving from the south within the season. It's just too much for Blitzen, Dasher and Prancer, and when the head-elf comes in to break it to them, formalize the news the week after remembrance day, just when feed is starting to go scarce, they break down, sobbing, into hysterical wailing. The elf, who is very good at her job, priding herself on as little emotive connection as possible, sighs frustratedly and, after five minutes of the reindeer's carrying on, not emptying their desks as requested, bellows at them: "Oh, for Santa's sake! Stop crying over skilled Elk!"

Thank you. Happy new-style advent.

Yes! It is!

2011-12-21T13:56:00.002Z

Hello Everybody.

I'm sorry. I know. I know! What?! December 21st?! Well. Let me explain.

There was a plan, originally, with Charlie, to make a genre-film parody for each day of advent. 24 genre film parodies. Brilliant! Fun! But, then, actually, Charlie was mega busy with job interviews and PhD applications and I was gigs, gigs, gigs, and we didn't actually have a camera. And then it was now.

But, not to worry! Because we Hoopers are doing Christmas the 29th-of-December style this year, and today is my first official holiday-day (Chicago! Brunch! Oh man.) so, for mini advent-treats this year you all get:

ONE AWESOME JOKE FROM SOLSTICE TO HOOPERMAS!

Ready? Day one. A propo of all flying around the world to see each other:

A vulture boards an airplane, carrying two dead raccoons. The
stewardess looks at him and says, "I'm sorry, sir, only one carrion
allowed per passenger."

Wuther or not.

2011-12-09T13:56:00.002Z

Okay, so, the adventreats are more labour-intensive this year, and, therefor, not ready yet. But, soon! In the meantime, to counteract, or, let's say, compliment, Erin's latest Christmas Dance Sensation, might I propose one of my own? I have had this, both the song and the dance moves, in my head for almost two months now. I can't get enough. I really can't. I love Kate. My gift to you:

AS OF TODAY

2011-12-01T23:56:00.001Z

It is officially advent, (though for some of us it has been since Sunday, but, whatever). So. Get ready.

...

Go east, young women

2011-11-15T16:48:00.005Z

If there are two things I love, they're biking and Charlie, right? So, now that Charlie's off doing learning in The East, what better way to feed those two loves than to cycle there. To Cambridge, from Bath. Right?

So I did.

The facts:

170 miles (272 km)

Two days (with absurdly short daylight hours. Oh! This Northern Land! Sunrise: 7.18am. Sunset: 4.26pm)

One friend (Sue! Violinist in Stringbeans/partner in bike crime with whom I did John O' Groats to Land's End)

It seemed like the perfect formula. The prevailing winds here are always from the West, and we'd be headed East. And everyone knows it gets flatter and flatter the farther east you go. And, there's nothing I like more than just going and going and going and going for hours and hours on the bike. Really. There's a kind of smooth perpetual motion of life that overcomes you and it feels so very right. Also, all you can eat candy and protein bars. YES.

The big issue was 1) not reeeeally knowing where we were going, apart from East and a bit North, having just guessed at highlighting some "smaller-looking roads" on a old AA map. The result of this was twofold, both: Happy surprise! We passed through some really gorgeous towns and villages that I'd never heard of before and, amazingly, managed to avoid any real big hills both days. Even in the Cotswolds! Whoop! And, also, sometimes finding ourselves faced with a road too scary-with-traffic for me (not for Sue, she's made of steel. Like the robot in that safety advert we had as kids, "I can put my arm back on, you can't, [bike] safe.") which meant some extra mileage as we'd detour to smaller, prettier, safer, and loooonger roads... .

2) The dark. Man! There really is nothing but dark nowadays, here. And for another month.5! This meant our rides both started and ended in blackness. Which meant, for super biking safety me, turning myself into a Christmas tree. Three blinking (not in time) red lights on the back, three blinking white lights on the front, a high-vis vest, anklet, and reflective everything. I also brought twenty glow-sticks for emergencies, but didn't need them. This time.

Tiny issues, really, all things considered. And, all things considered it was awesome. I can't wait to do it again. In the spring. In the daylight. Everyone is invited!

Stop-Motion

2011-10-28T18:53:00.002+01:00

Hi everyone! Hi!

Sorry it's been a little while. I've been busy doing stuff like... a little stop-motion video for Diplodocus by the ol' solo project Waitress for the Bees. It's my first ever crack at animation so, um, blah blah disclaimer etc.

Fun though! I just kind of wish the dance routine bit went on longer. Longer and longer. Maybe I'll make another one for another song...? (Full-screen for Full-fun.)

Rage, rage against the

2011-10-09T01:08:00.003+01:00

So, I'm doing a recording session gig this weekend, for The Heavy . (Who are _great_ and one of my favourite groups to work for of all time. But that's a topic for another post.) And one of the songs we're working on has a line that goes "Cause if you're going to fight, find something worth fighting for." (Or something like that. I was busy playing my viola and adjusting my headphones, so, that's probably not word-perfect.

But close enough.

Which is related to:

Last night I had some lovely friends over to get beaten at Settlers of Catan (Cs & Ks edition) and after the game, we got into talking, talking about these THINGS that, as we get older, creep over us more and more. These _causes_. For my friend last night it was parenting education. For me it is Empowerment of Women. Maybe yours is Urban Cycling, or Preservation of Wild Space etc etc. These causes inflame us, the very mention of them makes us passionate and full-of-fire-and-opinion-and-hope, for, we're sure, they can change the world.

If only we knew how to let them.

And that's the thing. We all have them, these things. And Want To Do Something About Them. But. How? I know. Look for small things you can do within your own community, blah, blah. But I don't want to. I want to save the world. Right now. You too? So how do we do that?

(I guess, for my part, to start, there's this: )

good taste

2011-09-29T11:23:00.004+01:00

So, everybody knows that France* has good food. Like, really good. And that they take that seriously. But, who knew that the driving force behind this culture de gastronomie** was... truck drivers?

Truck drivers?

Truck drivers.

See, the truck drivers all take their two hour lunch breaks and go for long, leisurely, high quality meals. And, given the nature of their business, they know all the best, far-flung, secretly amazing places to go. They have very high standards. And rumours of the place-to-be (and eat) flow fast and free within this community.

"Everybody here knows," say the proprietors of our Gite, "if you want to find the best places to eat, you follow the truck drivers."

"And," they add, "should the truck drivers decide the quality of your restaurant has slipped, good luck finding anyone willing to eat there..."

That this intrinsic cultural irony is not irony at all in France, is just a given, says something quite nice about that culture, no? Of course truck drivers can and do have the highest tastes and standards. Why not?

Yea, why not?

*Where Charlie and I just were, for a week, a wonderful amazing biking and eating and drinking in and around the Loire Valley who, for the record, are _incredibly_ bike friendly (placemats in restaurants of bike route maps? At several restaurants? Good restaurants?).

**France is the only country where restaurant reviews refer to whether a given spot is good for "amateurs"...

Videoformation

2011-09-06T00:33:00.002+01:00

Here is a very well put together, interesting and fun video about...viola physics! Yeah! So informative.

What is up with Noises?

Notastudent, Yesajob

2011-08-23T10:57:00.002+01:00

So, here's the thing about my job (one of my jobs). The musician one. People tend to think it's not a job. And, that's okay, I mean, there are lots of jobs that aren't really jobs (dog walker? pro poker?) but there seems to be something about mine that people think it's okay to belittle it to you, right to your face, while you're there, doing it, doing your job.

Not in mean ways, usually, but, usually, by asking, "So, are you guys students, then?", at EVERY STRING QUARTET GIG EVER.

Dear reader, dear observers of string quartets, it has been nine years since I graduated from my music degree. I am in my 30's. I. Am. Not. A. Student. Do you go to the doctor and ask them this? Do you ask this of your lawyer? Don't you think, maybe, it sends a message of unprofessionality? Don't you think your doctor might, just a bit, especially if they were quite a good doctor, having been doctoring (yes, professionally, even)for more than a decade, be belittled?

So, for the record, no, we're not students. Yes, this is our job. Now go eat your canapés somewhere else.

'way, 'way, 'way

2011-08-13T11:37:00.009+01:00

Sea shanties everywhere, sea shanties like crazy. This was Festival Maritim, just outside Bremen, Germany, where the only two bands that weren't traditional sea-shanty-bands were the two bands I was with, The Cedar and Pollyanna. We had been brought in as an experiment, to see if this water-logged-and-loving-it festival would tolerate non-nautical musical offerings.

Our vehicle was too packed as we set off from Bath to fit the accordion in. A bane or a blessing, turns out we were the only band there without one. It was that kind of festival. There was a lot of "What do you do with a drunken sailor?" And a collective fashion statement by both performers and audience (including children, babies, dogs...) like this:

The late-night backstage parties sounded like this (recorded with my phone...so, sorry about the boomy-fuzziness):

And, for the grande finale, on the final night of the festival, Sunday night, allll the bands, choirs, shantyists, got up on the main stage and waved sparklers at alllll the audience members who also had and waved sparklers and sang together while a giant multi-mast ghost-ship-type-ship sailed past behind them. We sang this: (Ditto re: phone)

And the ship (in the mid-distance) looked like this):

Not smiling

2011-08-01T16:07:00.003+01:00

Giving stickers to my violin/viola students after a "good" lesson is one of the best bits of teaching. I get to seek out and buy the coolest stickers and, ahem, sometimes, keep some of them for myself. After all, I have good lessons too...

So, this week's stickers are puffed up (you know, the kind that are fun to poke) personifications of photo-realist desserts. There's one that's a bunch of berries making faces, some with legs, some without. There's another one that's a chocolate chip cookie with a mustache. Etc.

One of my youngest students, (three years old), had a great lesson and earned herself a sticker. She chose a personified green macroon. Her mother and I left her to examine and enjoy it while we discussed summer holidays and upcoming lesson times etc etc. until, from the back of the room, came an unholy wail:

IT'S NOT SMILING!
IT'S NOT SMILINGit'snotsmilingit'snotsmilingit'snotsmilingIT'SNOT!smiling. IT'S NOT SMILING!(it'snotsmilingit'snotsmilingit'snot...)

My student had made a shocking discovery about her macroon reward. (itsnotsmiling!itsnotsmiling!itsnot!) And it was Incredibly Disturbing to her three year old mind. (ITSNOTSMILING!) Imagine, a personified cookie, not smiling. Just. Imagine.

Mom and I checked it out. It was true, the macroon was downright ambivalent. Cool, even.

We swapped it, deft like a magician's slight of hand, for a pink one. It was smiling.

And all was right with the world. Kids are so interesting.

these people

2011-07-23T12:32:00.002+01:00

There are some times, not very many times, but some times, when you meet people, as a musician, other musicians, and you fit together so so perfect, like hands folded, like of course, this is what it means, to play together, not play with, but play together; and they are with you anywhere you go, anywhere you take the phrase, and you are with them, the same, because it's a dance, but no one's leading and no one's following, you're just all dancing, together, like breathing, or knowing, and there are no sheets, no scores, because you're not music reproducers, you're music makers, right now, this and this and this, and really you're not even music makers, but music maker, one, together, and we could have gone on like this forever.

Lea, Guido, Francois, cello, violin, bass, thank you for reminding me, for playing with me, for playing together.

X e

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le recordation

2011-07-15T18:23:00.002+01:00

This week's international viola caper = a week recording with parisienne singer-songwriter Pollyanna. In her parents' disneyland for emma home half an hour outside paristown.

This house!

A) Has a pool. Which is essentially my private pool (pollyanna tells me, over one of our typical four course, two wine meal breaks that her parents bought the house _despite_ the pool...) and i swim every morning, after an exploratory run.

B) Has a fossil room. Set up like a museum exhibition, with thousands (3000 says Pollyanna's father, though this is the same number he uses to describe his wine collection so perhaps it's just french for 'very big number') of hand collection fossils and geological specimens. I love this. I hang out here while i wait for the shower to become free.

C) Has a wall-mounted exhibit of gigantic butterflies, beetles and spiders, mostly collected in Guyana. I love this too, but some of the other musicians do not.

D) Has two wine cellars, with those 3000 bottles. Choosing for dinner (twice, as the cheese course requires a seperate red) is intense, but worth it.

E) Has hundreds upon hundreds of panpipes. (3000?) Pollyanna's father is a Bolivian music enthusiast and performer. He and his wife are away for the first few days at a festival for such things in sweden. Which is quite far from Bolivia.

And it's my job to hang out here. My job! Thanks Cherie.

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warm fusion

2011-07-09T14:04:00.001+01:00

Oh, you Germans! Stop being so nice! Seriously. You guys are off the nice hook.

You remember fusion festival from last year, when i played with babel? On the former East German Soviet air base? Well, i came back, only this year as a solo act, The Waitress for the bees.

And, even though wake up was at 2.30am, for the heathrow bus at 3.25am and then going and going until my gig at 18.30 (that's how they say it...fitting ,airbase and all), and beyound to the point where roadie help and good friend support Sue and I are squished into some kind of dance party made to look like a russian grandma (baba?)'s house, everyone was so damn nice that tiredness just didn't make sense.

Like the shuttle driver who drove 3 hours just to pick us up at the airport and bring us to the fest. Just us ,no other artists. Or the hipster kids who bought more CDs and sat/stood in silence and listened, tent full. Sat and listened?! At a festival? And all the free food. Including three different kinds of perogies. We're not in the UK anymore...

But, really, the best, nicest thing, was the lake. There's a bus that runs every half hour that will take you ,in all your festival stinkiness, to a beautiful, warm, ducklingful lake. Swimming and music. Best ever.

Thanks fusion. See you next year...?

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Lushfest.

2011-07-05T19:29:00.005+01:00

The Thursday before Canada Day is not just the Thursday before Canada Day if you are a lucky employee of the hand-made soaps and cosmetic company, LUSH. No, no, in that case, it is also LUSHFEST! A festival, an entire, big! (three stages! Silent disco! Two different ice-cream vans!)festival put on exclusively for Lush employees from all over the world, from Vancouver to Dubai (to the UK. All of them, to the UK for this festival).

I don't work at Lush, but I do work as a freelance violist, so I, too, got to experience this. I was hired in to play, along with the other beans, with the Nightjar Orchestra (we all wore matching red shirts with nightjars on them), a band that composed and performed the soundtracks they have playing in the Lush spa when you go to get your massage or pedicure. Lots of viola required for that kind of relaxation, of course.

I got so much free soap. I got to make my very own bath bomb, filled with whatever I wanted. I filled mine with christmas holly and vanilla pods. Because I love christmas and vanilla pods are expensive. I got a giant block of something that looks like chocolate but isn't edible, really. Instead it can dye your hair, somehow. And lots more.

What an amazing thing for a company to do for its employees. If I'm honest, I wasn't a huge fan of Lush, it was too smelly for me, generally. But I'm impressed by this. If, for some unexpected reason, I ever need to buy soap that looks like food or soap that explodes in your bath, I'll be happy to give them my custom.

24-in-24: Done.

2011-06-26T13:16:00.002+01:00

5.09am: Yeah! The best thing about this event was something I never even considered when we thought of this event. Getting to be out, in your neighbourhood, your community, at every single hour of the day and night. It's like being your own stop-motion camera. And it's awesome.

24-in-24 the 24th.

2011-06-26T05:13:00.002+01:00

5am: Sun up quiet victory euphoria run. (This one's incredibly wobbly, so you don't have to watch it all. You'll get the idea rather quickly.)

24-in-24 23rdmilehour

2011-06-26T04:23:00.002+01:00

4am: PENULTIMATE MILE

24-in-24 mile22 eeee

2011-06-26T04:17:00.002+01:00

3am: Ah! So quiet! So nice! We should always hang out outside at 3am.

24-in-24 21sthourmileohmygosh.

2011-06-26T02:24:00.002+01:00

2am: Getting tired. No, guys, for real. For real.

24-in-24 20th hour.

2011-06-26T02:22:00.002+01:00

1am:We see a cat under a car and a car under a cat.

24-in-24 mile...19...

2011-06-26T01:22:00.001+01:00

12am: The witching-running hour, featuring...ANOTHER TWO SPECIAL GUESTS! Kind of.

24-in-24 omg it's mile 18

2011-06-26T01:08:00.002+01:00

11pm: ParkintheDark.

24-in-24 the 17th installment.

2011-06-26T00:55:00.001+01:00

10pm: Now it's really dark.

24-in-24 mile 16! 16 hours!

2011-06-26T00:51:00.003+01:00

9pm: In which it is getting dark.

24-in-24 15 miles, jeepers.

2011-06-26T00:46:00.000+01:00

8pm: Featuring a SPECIAL GUEST STAR!

24-in-24 mile 14 hour

2011-06-26T00:27:00.001+01:00

7pm: Charlie's back, we go up for beer.

24-in-24 mile-hour 13

2011-06-25T23:46:00.002+01:00

6pm: way past half!

24-in-24 HALF WAY!

2011-06-25T23:42:00.001+01:00

5pm: The half-way mile/hour! Still sideways.

24-in-24 the 11th hourmile

2011-06-25T23:37:00.000+01:00

4pm= pigs!

24-in-24 10miles

2011-06-25T23:32:00.000+01:00

3pm: up and up.

24-in-24 9miles, 9hours.

2011-06-25T23:23:00.002+01:00

24-in-24 8miles!

2011-06-25T23:18:00.001+01:00

1pm: When the hunger hit.

24-in-24 the seventh hour, aka high noon.

2011-06-25T23:12:00.001+01:00

Okay. So all the ones I filmed are sideways. It's a statement.

24-in-24 6miles! That's about 10km!

2011-06-25T23:10:00.001+01:00

"Raining for real now."

24-in-24 hour/mile 5

2011-06-25T22:53:00.000+01:00

24-in-24 the fourth. Mile. And hour (10am)

2011-06-25T22:52:00.001+01:00

Sorry about the sideways ones. But, hey, pet shop! What utilitarian running!

24-in-24 thirdmile! (hour also)

2011-06-25T22:29:00.002+01:00

To the canal, I say!

24-in-24 hour/mile 2

2011-06-25T17:36:00.001+01:00

The second mile. Still earlier than I'm normally up...

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24-in-24, HOUR 1!

2011-06-25T06:45:00.002+01:00

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Karlsruhe is a small German town.

2011-06-08T00:09:00.002+01:00

We sleep in the cafe, and upon waking, run up and down the Hamburg ports. Then we get to shower; oh, it's a new day.

Karlsruhe, a seven hour drive south, is a TV set of a town. Complete with friendly, comical, recurring walk-ons. There was one man in coveralls who looked like he had just walked away from an exciting, and messy, DIY project, who we saw walk by as we had dinner before the gig, who came to the gig, and who walked by again, this time saying hello, when we were having breakfast the next morning. Karlsruhe is that kind of place.

Also, this was the show where the audience wanted three encores. Demanded. But I only have one. So I made two up, hoping nobody noticed. This is my job.

Hamburger, again.

2011-05-23T19:10:00.002+01:00

Three gigs in one day, but we can't get to even the first one, where we're supposed to be, any minute now, because we can't figure out how to get off this boat and the owners are sleeping and we don't want to be rude because they're really nice and letting us stay on their boat and all but, um, how do we get off the boat we can't get off the boat without swimming or jumping really far and accurately.

And then a record shop gig, (nice, the one that posted that youtube movie), and then a cafe gig (super nice, they gave me a wind-up dinosaur), and then a bar gig (nice-ish. They asked the foosball players to stop playing foosball during the gig) and then, thank goodness, no more singing for a bit, just some sleeping back at the cafe, a makeshift cafe-couch bed is good enough for me.

It was a riot: Germany day 3

2011-05-22T00:30:00.005+01:00

Run Log: The first of this mini bit of blog about the German tour runs. Running in Berlin along the line of the old wall is surprisingly beautiful. Fascinating, resonant, and flat.

After a breakfast buffet that included prosecco (naturally), we head from Berlin to Hamburg. Hamburg, Germany's Bristol. Nitty. Gritty. The big Port town with all the art leaking from its oily underbelly. If Berlin is hip, Hamburg is authentic. Like that. The gig tonight is at the Mobile Blues Club. A giant trailer that's been converted to a bar and venue.

Except, that, unfortunately, a wall of armoured vehicles and hundreds, yep, hundreds, of riot-squad officers in full kit between the venue and anyone wanted to get to the venue meant that, unfortunately, the gig was cancelled. Ladies and Gentlemen, it's May day in Germany, and our little venue was right at the heart of it.

Really, it was all very well-behaved. A thousand or so kids in hoodies half-shouting speeches, followed by polite clapping and the occasional whoop. A german anarchist rap. A crushingly intimidating over-presence of police. And us, standing to the side, waiting until it was done with so the four tanks blocking in our tiny rental car could let us out.

Also: This night we slept on a boat. There was no water or electricity, so you had to pee over the side, in the dark, which was a bit frightening at night.

berlin, day 2.

2011-05-14T17:09:00.003+01:00

Daytime: It's nice out, so there are large swaths of naked men sun-bathing in the Berlin city parks. I'm sure there must also be women's and/or a 'family' zones, but all we see is the men. We jog casually past. They casually ignore us.

Night-time: A gig at a soup-club. Yep, soup. It's called 'intersoup' and, man, they sure do make great soup. I had Thai coconut curry with noodles and tofu. Maybe not traditional German, but awfully good for rider food. The gig is nice too. I go on stage and there are three people in the crowd (one nice guy with his parents, who are visiting for the weekend), I start playing and Boom! The place is full. Magic German crowds. I love them. And their soup.

The Waitress goes German: Day 1

2011-05-10T23:26:00.003+01:00

Yes, yes, I've been to Germany before. Yes, I've toured Germany for music before. But. I've never ever done that, or anything like that, with my new(ish) solo act The Waitress For the Bees. Just me! All by myself! Saying things like, "Ich bin The Waitress for the Bees." And "Diese liede heisse Diplodacus".

Well, just me, and Charlie, who, as sound-tech, driver, manager, coach and hunter-gatherer, was also quite a bit there and quite a bit important.

Day one: Bristol-Berlin.

We flew easyjet out of Bristol airport on the day of the Royal Wedding. Easyjet did not seem to care. The crowds and crowds of people dressed in red, white, and blue (but not the American way) we passed on our way to the station all did seem to care. Despite this, easyjet was surprisingly great. I think they've decided, "yea, we're a budget airline, but, still, we're not Ryanair. Let's never be Ryanair." and, as such, we were both able to bring one carry on and one instrument (me: viola, Charlie: ukulele with a secret glock-and-shaker-egg-combo hiding with it) on board with no hassle at all, except for the check-in woman not knowing what a ukulele was, and being rather confused about this concept of an instrument she'd not heard of, until we told her it was a very small guitar (with two missing strings), and she was fine.

And then, Berlin. Berlin! We picked up the rental car the tour-booker arranged for us at the airport, providing the agent with credit cards, driver's lincenses, and "Autograms" as required, and zoomed into (okay, crawled very cautiously and with little idea where to go) the center of town, to the first gig.

Gelegenheiten means something like "opportunities" in German, and it was a fitting name for this, the first venue. It wasn't really a bar or a venue or a cafe so much as a small empty space. It looked like it might once have been a shop*. There wasn't any sign that we could see, and there certainly weren't any posters or anything like that announcing gigs or inhabitation of any kind. But, the Germans are amazing and have a secret sense for finding and joyfully attending any kind of live music event, especially foreign ones. I was tired-ish, and the set was far from polished, but everybody listened and everybody was happy and the bass player for the other band looked like my second-cousin Tammy, and some Italian friends I only knew from facebook turned up, so Gelegenheiten prevailed. Thanks Berlin, for that (and for your falafels). So far I like you (but don't get too excited).

*A little bit of post-writing-this research reveals that it was, in fact, an old butcher shop.

Precious metal

2011-04-30T17:46:00.003+01:00

They called Argentina "Argentina" because they wanted people to think there was silver there, and that, therefor it would be worth exploring, colonizing, investing in. Turns out, there's no silver in Argentina (save imported to various jewelers, etc.) but people still explored, colonized, invested.

A little over a week ago, we Hoopers were some of those people, but the prized treasure we sought wasn't a precious metal, or even empanadas or tango or dulce de leche (although we had all those things and they were great), but the time and place to experience any and all kinds of new and less-new things together, the whole family,for the first time in years, in homage, remembrance, and celebration of Grandma Old in specific, and family in general.

Money and precious metals are all well and good, but, really the most (only) precious things we can have are those imbued with meaning and importance derived from time, experience, and love, whatever the finite details or definitions, with and from other people.

Argentina was awesome, in short, silver or no silver. (No silver, in my case.)

Aaaaaand other Islay things

2011-04-07T23:43:00.006+01:00

And then mostly everything else on Islay was whiskey-wonderful. Okay, there was one other very cold and very wet ride, from Port Ellen to Bowmore, but that taught us:

1) never, never think you'll be fine without shoe covers.
2) Charlie had never had IronBru; Charlie thinks IronBru is gross.

And we tried a lot of whiskies. Twenty-three single-malts from five of the world's best distilleries, in order of our visits:

1) Lagavulin
Their Double-matured is my new favorite. Never has a drink left me with such a satisfying mineral aftertaste. Their Distillery special edition is also really, really, good. Like honey-smoke. This is the one we brought back with us, since you can only get it there. Clever, that.

2) Ardbeg
Found the whiskies a little harsh for my taste, but their cafe and postcards were good. Also, they gave us a free book of walks around the island, so bonus points there.

3) Laphroaig
Previously my favorite, now slipped down, despite them having all the olden-timey "technology" that they still actually use in their malting and peating processes. (See photos).

4) Bowmore
To be honest, I was so cold when we got to this one that I remember the free cookies more than anything. Though I'm pretty sure we had three or four different drams... .

5) Bruichladdich
Like a fun fair for whisky lovers! We tried thirteen different whiskies here. All sorts of insane and great concoctions. There was a series matured in different types of wine casks (called A-F. D was the best), and Octomore 3 (152), the peatiest whisky in the whole world ever, ever, at 152ppm. 152ppm! Laphroaig, for all it's hyper-peatiness, is 40ppm. Think about that. We also tried the Black Art, which is a secret recipe that nobody except the maker him/herself knows, that was very, very good. And so on. We spent a lot of time in the converted barn of the Bruichladdich tasting room, and it was a very good time.

There are still four more distilleries to visit. Our bed and breakfast served us buttered fish for breakfast. I left my bike glasses by a bunch of rabbits. Supposedly it's not always freezing and drenching. And sleeping on a moving-train bunk-bed is awesome. Can't wait to go back.

Islay, day 1

2011-03-15T16:47:00.005Z

(all the sheep eye charlie's fig bar jealously.)

Firstly, I love trains, and I love the trains in this country. We took a "bargain berth" sleeper all the way up to Glasgow, with our bikes, and it was lovely. Our own little room with one bunk each, the rattling rhythm of the tracks as terrifically soporific lullaby, and coffee, orange juice and shortbread in the morning.

Which was good. Because it turned out to be a long day.

The plan was to cycle from Arrochar & Tarbet station (the furthest the line would take us) west and south through a mountain pass and along Loch Fyne to the ferry-terminal at Kennacraig in time to catch the 18.00hrs (last) ferry across to Port Ellen, Islay. In theory, we had loads of time, not so so many miles to cover, and lots of delicious raw-food bars.

In truth, the raw food bars were delicious (especially mango), but the other two assumptions were oh so false, mainly because of:

Weather!

Hail and hail and hail and wind and wind and wind and this one mini blizzard, tucked in the middle, for fun. Mainly headwinds, of course. The gusts were 55mph, and the regular, non-gusts were stable around 30mph (not an exaggeration, even. When we finally did make it to the ferry terminal, we learned that all the ferries to Port Ellen were canceled that day. Because of the wind. The ridiculous wind, that practically canceled us.) Many, many times we had to stop because of a) being blown off our bikes b) not being able to produce any forward motion at all c) fear of death from being blown into traffic, or, for the one little stretch where the road twisted and we had a tail-wind, d) complete lack of control at high speeds, at the wind's whim. Also, sometimes, the hail-in-our-eyes was a bit too painful/blinding for productive riding. So. We walked a lot. We cowered a lot. I regretted, a bit, having chosen _this_ as Charlie's first exposure to the bike holiday experience. But scenery, that which wasn't hidden in/by the hail clouds, was lovely. Snowy mountains. Incredibly weather-impenetrable sheep. Waterfalls every where.

All in all, the 66miles took us seven hours and seven minutes. With no rest stops longer than five minutes. And then that canceled ferry. Luckily, Charlie did such a good job at looking miserable that the ferry company agreed to pay for our taxi from Port Askaig, where the ferry could go, all the way down to Port Ellen, where our B&B was (where the ferry was supposed to go). They even got us an extra big taxi that could fit our bikes in the back.

All things considered, I'm incredibly happy with my new Sugoi shoe covers. Warm and dry feet through it all. And they're Canadian! Of course.

Run the Bath again

2011-03-06T14:17:00.003Z

Race Day! One of my favorite things about race day(s) is walking around town in a medal and a space blanket like it's no big deal. Today a kid asked his mom as we walked past, "Why are they in tin foil?"

Because, dear kid, today is the Bath Half marathon!

My fourth time in this race, in fact. That's 4/6 for the period I've been here, not too bad. And, today, a PB! But don't get excited, because, actually, what I did was just tie with my last PB. Weird. I know. Exactly the same. 1.40 last time, 1.40 this time. But I'm counting it as a real PB because last time I felt horrid after, and this time I just feel hungry.

(Charlie did brilliant too, considering he fell off his bike last week, smashing his knee and can't really bend it properly right now. 1.48, in a brace. Not bad at all.)

My least favourite thing about this race:

-although Bath is one of the most breath-takingly beautiful cities in the world (I say), this course, in order to stay mostly flat, takes runners along all the ugliest bits (except the start and finish, which are, to be fair, lovely). Maybe they want to encourage people to stick around for a few days to see all the nice bits afterwards?

My favourite things about this race:

-it's so close. A six minute walk down to the start from our front door.

-Great treats. You never know what you're going to get. Along with the regular sports drink, t-shirt, mars bar, etc, this year's goodies include Goji berries, toilet paper, discounts on flights to Toronto (!) and ground flax seed...

-it's a huge race in a small town. Meaning loads of spectators, and a good chance that you'll recognize a fair number, even if you didn't know they'd be out/they didn't know you were running.

new skills present

2011-03-01T11:31:00.007Z

On special occasions, people like to buy themselves presents, on occasion. So, when I graduated from the PhD program, as a self-gift, I decided to give myself a new SKILL: Leatherwork!

I like sewing, and I needed a new satchel, and I know a great guy who was willing to teach me, so: Leatherwork!

Turns out it's like a lovely marriage of sewing and heavy hand-tools. I like that. I ordered half a cow (hide) on Etsy, from a chivalrous Texan and got ready to LEARN.

Less time than I expected later, (and with lots and lots and lots of help from my tutor, Gaz) I present...my bag! Big enough for my laptop, lined and everything. That's fancier than I get with most clothes... .

Me and Colin Firth

2011-02-13T22:18:00.003Z

Anyway:

I JUST WON A BAFTA!

Seriously, guys. A freaking BAFTA.

Okay, I didn't exactly win it myself, alone, or really, at all, but kind of. There was a lot of improvising on this soundtrack gig, and one particularly fun bit of new-music-viola-concerto that I made up, so I going to take a very tiny sliver of creative credit on...

2011 BAFTA winner, short animation category, by M. Please, with soundtrack by B. Please and a little tiny bit stringbeans and a little tiny bit me,

(To be fair, I think the win might have something to do with the breathtaking animation as well.)

That's applicable

2011-02-07T11:18:00.002Z

As we all know, Charlie is brilliant. This is evidenced in oh so many things, including homemade bread, piano magic, robot madness, christmas cocktails and on and on. So it should come as no surprise, really, that he's decided to teach himself to code. And to code in some of the most difficult languages out there, including the notorious (it turns out) iphone app language of Objective C.

Many tense and intense days, weeks, and hours of secret syntax learning later, I can now, proudly, present to you his first ever iphone app! Available on the store and everything! It was a learning experience, so the concept is fairly simple, but, still, immensely impressive. It's free! Go download and give it a try!

Cloverload

What is not a road bike

2011-01-22T19:07:00.003Z

A mountain bike is not a road bike.

It turns out.

Today I went for my first mountain bike ride since my high school Outdoor Education trip, um, fifteen years ago. I've really enjoyed the road biking I've been doing, and the cycle-commuting/everyday-biking lifestyle I have in general, so, when my Bassist friend asked if I wanted to go with him to do some Welsh mountain biking, I said, Yeah! Of course.

So, first ride. It's -2 degrees (= icy mud) and we (he/they/the other, real bikers) decide to do "The Wall".

A "red" route.

It turns out the exercise one gets from mountain biking is not, actually, from physical exertion*, but, instead, from the accelerated heartbeat that comes with TERROR.

Oh my gosh.

Four times, on our route, there were little signs kindly placed along the route with a skull and crossbones on them, and the text, in English and Welsh: "DANGER! Are you right for this route? This is an extremely difficult...etc...only for confident and experienced riders...etc. blah blah."

Part of the route was called "the graveyard." It was the one part I walked.

Terrifying. But fun! Like life, right?

*that was fine! That was great! I welcomed the slow, long uphills, oh, yes, please! Anything but down... .

What is not a beer

2011-01-17T00:32:00.003Z

A lot of musicians are keen to get their hands on their allotted quota of drink tickets at a gig asap of an evening. Me, I'm usually keen to see what I can swap my drink tickets for, apart from drink.

This weekend was the Bristol Acoustic music festival at the gorgeous Saint George's Hall. The festival is totally one of my favourites; it comes at just that right time, when the post-holiday depression would otherwise hit, and it's in a venue that is the opposite of your average festival setting.

I played three gigs. They were fun. But the best thing,for me, probably, was convincing skeptical bar staff to let me exchange my beer tokens for:

a) a slice of dark chocolate coconut polenta cake

and

b) a bag of turkey and sweet chestnut stuffing crisps.

Bartering is delicious. And you can drive afterwards. (If you have a car. I took a taxi.)

Things today

2011-01-08T22:53:00.003Z

So. Erin revamps her blog? Okay. I'll do mine too. Fine. Just fine.

Also: It's 2011. I hope you liked our songs. I have two main, big goals for this year, they are

1)
2)

I've heard if you disclose your goals willy-nilly, you're less likely to achieve them. So, sorry. But, I'll let you know how they go. In the meantime, final goal of 2010:

final) Get UK to let me stay AND work AND have a partner to do it with

completed! As long as I don't want to work as a doctor or dentist in training. Ok, I say, fair. (Though really, um, Britain, you're turning away dentists? Hm...).

Adventunes, the final, 24

2010-12-26T08:16:00.002Z

It's been great, guys. Seriously, really great. I love having this kind of thing as an excuse to create new stuff, with Charlie. Have great, lovely, great holidays.

e

Christmas Light, a somewhat cheesy pop xmas ballad.

Adventunes the 23rd

2010-12-25T09:30:00.003Z

You might think we're a little behind now, given that it's actually the 24th (and late in that day too...), but, no! This year our family is celebrating Christmas two days later, on the 27th, so that we can all be together, so, actually, this is an intentional lag. Of sorts.

Can't Wait for Christmas Morning

Adventunes...22... .

2010-12-23T17:43:00.002Z

We're in Edmonton! Yes! So, we made guest star Ryan do pretty much all the work today. Ryan!

Snacks and Drinks and Catching Up

Adventunes !21!

2010-12-22T23:22:00.001Z

Hey, don't forget:

Also Hanukkah

Adventunes 20 at last

2010-12-21T18:01:00.001Z

We spend today in airports, mainly. Crazy, crazy, crazy airports. Oh goodness me:

Christmas Eve at Heathrow

Adventunes 19.

2010-12-19T23:49:00.002Z

Man! Oh man. The two inches of snow here in panic-land has, for the third year in a row, made everyone panicrazy. I know, I know, they don't have the infrastructure. But, three years! Maybe they could get some grit!

Anyway. The flight we're meant to be on, taking us to Christmas, was cancelled today (when we weren't supposed to be on it), but seems to be okay so far for tomorrow (when we are). So. Oh my goodness, fingers crossed. And:

Song to keep the airports open

Adventunes 18, in fact.

2010-12-18T23:04:00.002Z

I've always love the 3 Kings story. And, also, singing as low as I possibly can. So, both!

Wise Guys

Adventunes is already 17

2010-12-17T21:22:00.002Z

This one was pretty good fun. The sad thing was all the guys from round the flat that we had to leave out. Still, 12 is cacophonous enough, no?

A Ukulele in a Pear Tree

Adventunes 16ish

2010-12-17T00:25:00.002Z

Even though we call this the Scottish Carol it was written by a Canadian and an American, in England. Just so you're not disappointed.

Adventunes 14+1= 15

2010-12-16T00:40:00.002Z

Today was a kinda stressful day of visa prep runaround. (With a rather big lunch in the middle, which helps these sorts of thing.) So, fittingly, we give you:

Travelin' (footsteps in the snow)

Adventunes is 14

2010-12-15T00:49:00.001Z

A plucky instrumental. For you.

Plums!

Adventunes spooky 13

2010-12-13T23:42:00.003Z

I really like Oulipo, and how their structured approach to artistic creation can, in fact, liberate. So, in light of that, we n+7'ed O Little Town Of Bethlehem. Special guest star (again) Ben M..

Xmas+7 (An Oulipo Christmas)

Adventunes gone 12

2010-12-12T23:56:00.001Z

This one performed 100% by guest star Allan Hoyano! On guitar, vocals, and whale-call!

Christmas in Alberta

Adventunes, hey, 11

2010-12-12T01:23:00.002Z

This one contains kudos to TWO of my all time favorite xmas albums. Can you guess?

Op. 11

Adventunes X

2010-12-11T00:25:00.002Z

We watched a French movie today, so:

L'Abre en Plastique

Adventunes gone 9

2010-12-09T23:43:00.002Z

Charlie has recently decided he does like Blues after all. Which is nice, with the Chicago thing. :

Christmas in Chicago

adventunes = 8

2010-12-09T16:46:00.002Z

This one is SUPER-EXCITING! Recorded at Stephen, my PhD supervisor's house, with his family! His son is ten and wants to be a rapper. Hence, this tune. He wrote it himself! Amazing. His daughter is seven and played the rain-stick brilliantly. His wife is doctor (a real one, not like me) and sometimes has to be on call or in the ER on major holidays. Like Janice. So, in their honour, we wrote:

Workin' at Christmas

Adventunes 7 (seven)

2010-12-07T11:11:00.000Z

Charlie and I wrote this one last night on the train to London, mostly, but couldn't internet it to you; but now we have! I think it's the most from-a-musical-sounding one yet. Hurrah? Hurrah!

Christmas in England

Adventunes-6!

2010-12-06T22:47:00.002Z

Happy Birthday Chris!

And, also, here's a tune! With help from another guest collaborator: Ben M!

Grow Slow (33 Wishes)

Adventunes: The 5th.

2010-12-06T00:20:00.003Z

Today we're more pensive = All real instruments this time.

Sometimes the snow melts

Adventunes, 4!

2010-12-04T23:34:00.002Z

This is a very special edition...featuring Gia Anne-Marie! Today is her birthday. So we let her rap about it. The tragedy of December birthdays revealed:

Mizzleto'

Adventunes...3?

2010-12-03T23:54:00.002Z

Student cellos, aged 4-6, bring glad tidings.

(Just because I have a cello doesn't mean I can play the cello.)

Adventunes 2!

2010-12-02T21:15:00.003Z

Entitled:

What you doin' hatin' on Christmas?

With a good message. I feel.

Adventunes 1: Hush, winter time.

2010-12-01T15:14:00.008Z

It's December! YEAH! So. Even people who don't understand about the four Sundays thing still have to admit that it's now, officially, advent.

Which means:

Advent treats! This year, Charlie and I, inspired by our summer Wikipedia Challenge at Arteles, have decided to push ourselves and write you a NEW CHRISTMAS CAROL EVERY DAY*! I know. I know! We'll write and record them pretty fast, cause it's a busy time of year, so they won't be polished gems of seasonal perfection. But we'll do each with love. Always with love.

So. Today, we humbly presented you the first of these carols. Given the newness of the season, we decided to open with a humble, somber(ish), advent carol. You know how those are always kind of sad? Yeah. I'll call it...

Hush, winter time

*There is a possibility that we might, on some days, write new versions of old carols too.

Count-down to the count-down

2010-11-29T12:22:00.002Z

It's! Almost! December!

I'm pretty excited about this year's advent count-down blogging treats-surprise. Aren't you? I think this might just be the best year yet. Check back here on Wednesday for more.

...

.

Snail and tortoise and publishing

2010-11-19T15:11:00.000Z

So. People ask me a lot about the novel.

I ask myself a lot about the novel.

And I ask my agent a-fair-amount-but-waaaaaaay-less than I want to about the novel.

It's been with my agent, a good agent, from a very good agency, for months. For too, too, long. And, sometimes, this makes me frustrated, or sad. But then I go online and find things like this (from former agent Nathan Bransford's blog)and feel a little bit better, if a little bit worse. :

"How Long Does It Take to Sell A Novel?

About that long.

In the last couple of weeks I've received several distressed e-mails from authors who have reputable agents and who have novels out on submission to editors, and really they want to trust their agents and they're trying to be good and non-high maintenance, but seriously could the submission process really take this long?

Yes, it can.

But what if, one of these authors asked, a publisher expressed interest several months ago and then nothing has happened at all. Could they really still be interested? And if they were interested a couple of months ago why in the heck haven't they made an offer already?

Happens all the time.

I always assure these authors to just keep in touch with their agent, be patient, take up knitting, and go easy on the bourbon. Settle in for the long haul. A book might sell in a week or it might sell in a year. You never know.

So why does it take so long for an editor to make a decision anyway? Well, there are many reasons. First of all, it takes a long time to read a book. 6 hours on average, if you are a speed reader (and you'd better be if you're in publishing), and editors receive multiple submissions a day. Do the math and there just aren't enough hours in the day, especially when you already have a full time job while you're not reading. The first major delay is the editor simply sitting down with the book in question for a six hour stretch.

But let's say the editor does read the book, loves it, and wants to make an offer. What then?

Well, unless they are a serious publishing mucky muck, editors have to get approval to make an offer, a process similar to unlocking a nuclear bomb. They have to get it past editorial board, they have to get more reads, these reads have to be good, they have to unlock the failsafe and contact the president to press a button on the nuclear football, the sales team gets a look, some higher up has to sign off on it..... and all of these people have to read the book too. Multiply those six hours by ten, and then maybe the editor gets approval to make an offer of a certain amount.

Now, what's funny about all this is that when there's a hot project all of this goes out the window and people quickly lose their minds and the whole above process can be condensed to a couple of hours. Frankly it's a good thing publishing companies don't actually control our nuclear stockpile -- one whiff of a rock star memoir and bye bye Uzbekistan.

So I know it's terribly frustrating to go months and months looking for an agent and then FINALLY the book gets submitted....... and then wait months and months while you're waiting for editors to read it.

Welcome to publishing. You have no choice but to stay a while."

Oh. Okay. Fine.

"How intra-textual musical association in novels develops and defines literary character"

2010-11-03T12:48:00.003Z

And, just like that, I'm

A DOCTOR!

A real, live, PhD-haver. I am.

(From the University of East Anglia. Here is their awesome crest:)

And, the best thing about it is that I really learned tonnes and tonnes of stuff. I am so grateful to Stephen, my supervisor, for being an incredibly picky (in the kindest way) stickler for academic preciseness, clarity, knowledge and evidence. I know I would never have been able to hold my own confidently in this incredibly competitive, terrifying, and stringent world of 'real high academia' without his guidance.

So, if anyone's curious about Derridian implications of literary polyphony, just let me know. In the meantime, I'm gonna go change my title on my Grocery store club-points card...

HURRAH!

(And, as an after-thought. This probably marks the end of 26 years of nearly-consecutive schooling. wow.)

My friend TED

2010-10-27T11:42:00.002+01:00

TED talks are great, hey?

More than a force for good, they're a force for thought which is more long-lasting and, therefor, maybe, important. It's like the old BodyShop slogan about teaching people to fish. Only, here, it's:

Be nice to someone and they'll improve for a day.

Teach someone to think about what being nice really means and the whole world gets better forever.

Or something like that.

They're not all ground-breaking or intriguing, but many, maybe even most, are. Here's one of my favorites in terms of thought-provokation (not a real word, yet):

Some more Finnish Things

2010-10-09T12:45:00.002+01:00

So, I'm back in Finland, on a mini-tour, and have, for you:

Two more great Finnish things:

1) Running along an isolated road deep in the dense pine-and-birch forest, I am passed by a red car. Not long later, the car has turned around, driven back to me, and stopped. Inside: an older man (70s? 80s?) and a dog (beagle). The man rolls down the window and says something to me in Finnish. I say one of the very very few things I can say in Finnish: "I don't speak Finnish. Do you speak English?" he laughs and says he doesn't speak English and proceeds to get out of the car...

So. In a lot of places this would be the scary bit. For me, it was the hilarious bit. Even though he knows I don't speak Finnish, the man goes on to talk to me about...stuff in Finnish. Shakes my hand, gets excited and says "Arteles!" in a happy way. We establish, through gesticulation, that I am here as a musician and, through gesticulation and the fact that his suspenders have hunting scenes on them that he is here hunting. He laughs a lot, shakes my hand again, and drives away with his dog.

Finland is awesome. Imagine driving back to introduce yourself to every stranger you saw in LA.

2) The "recycling shop" which is a lot like our charity or second-hand shops except...everything is free! What? Yeah! House-hold items, clothes, toys, furniture, whatever. The government provides funding for the rent, heating, etc, and, in turn, people throw away a lot less stuff and waste a lot less money! I got two toques, ten buttons, and some really nice mittens. All for free!

All this is reminiscent to me of a book Charlie was reading once, called "The European Dream" . I think these countries may be on to something ( ahem ). And I think I like it.

Numbers

2010-10-02T09:55:00.003+01:00

And then last week I turned 30, and it was no big deal at all. I went swimming in the river, ate candy from Charlie got flowers from Bryce. I like 30. I feel thirty. I am very very happy. I love my job(s), my people, my life.

That's all.

Stage non-presence.

2010-09-17T13:02:00.003+01:00

Knowing how to hold yourself and what to do with things like your hands while performing on stage is a pretty important skill in my line of work. People call this stage presence.

But there's another, related, but also kind of opposite skill that's equally important, really. That's knowing what to do when you're onstage but not performing. Stage non-presence.

For a little while, in The Cedar, whenever Neil would do a solo thing, the rest of us would knit, onstage. That kind of worked, but probably wouldn't go over too well with some of my bigger freelance stuff.

A drummer friend told me once about a guy in his band who would crouch down into a ball with his hands over his ears when he wasn't playing. Then he got kicked out of the band.

It's a tough question, what to do when everyone is kind of but not really looking at you. Look at the performer, look straight ahead, look all over the place? Dance a bit? Stay very, very still?

Here's a video (probably off someone's phone. The audience singing is a nice perk) I found on youtube of my gig from this weekend of me mostly not-playing. These are the sorts of things I use as study guides. I think I wave my bow around way too much. But the subtle head-dancing is nice...

Kyrös...FM!

2010-09-04T21:38:00.001+01:00

Dear everyone,

As you probably know, I was just in Finland, at the magnificent Arteles.

As you maybe also know, Charlie and I had a daily radio show there. (There is a studio attached to the kitchen. Like any quality residency should have.)

But perhaps you did not know that we set ourselves a challenge for this radio show. Every day (every day!*) we hit "random page" on wikipedia, and then wrote, recorded and produced a song based on whatever random page came up. We had 90 minutes to complete each one, and then we played them on that day's radio show.

Of course, musical genius/hilarity ensued.

And now, you can listen to all those songs! Even if you're not in Finland. We've put them all up on bandcamp for you.

So. Listen. And tell us your favorite! But don't tell us your least favorite, that would be too sad.

*Except a few days. Like when we were in Estonia. Or the day we went to go look at art around a lake.

Now that I'm a knight.

2010-08-30T14:09:00.006+01:00

So, I'm a Finnish Knight now.

Saturday was my first ever gig with my new solo act "Waitress for the Bees," performing tracks from my upcoming dinosaur-based "Albertosaurus" album. And, despite my being terrified, it went remarkably well. See:

1) I made at least four grown men cry with my artistic rendering of mass extinction.

2) I impressed enough people to secure enough gigs to book a little Finnish tour, probably in October.

and, most importantly, surely,

3) It impressed a Grand Master enough to get me knighted. In a cellar-cavern, by a benevolent horn-head, no less.

Yeah! Yep. For real. Charlie too. Four men in tuxedos, various medallions and real-live viking hats invited us to their headquarters on Sunday. Where they processed, played a drum, read from a scroll tied up in red ribbon, and then led us, one at a time, to the knighting cavern.

In the Cavern, you could not speak. You knelt on a scarlet cushion bearing the knightly insignia and they put a quite heavy sword on your shoulders and said nice things about you in Finnish. The gave you a crest-thing, and a scroll/knightly diploma bearing your name and a bunch more nice things about you, in Finnish, and then you got to drink some "Spiritual Drink" out of a giant horn. Now, and forever, a Finnish knight of the order of the benevolent horn-heads.

Then you went back to the main house-HQ and had cake and coffee.

I can't wait for my second gig.

Sauna-Drunk

2010-08-18T19:22:00.002+01:00

Oh boy, I am so melty right now.

Thanks, Sauna.

Sure, we had saunas back home, in Canada, and there are saunas in England too, and in somewhat out-spacey hotel basements all over the world; however, the Finnish Home-Sauna, is an entity and experience all of its own.

It consists of three chambers and outside.

-In the first chamber you take off your shoes and sometimes undress. Some people like to undress in the second chamber instead. That's okay too. Things like chopped wood and matches and kindling and clean little body place-mats for sitting on hot hot wood are stored in the first chamber.

-In the second chamber there are small basins and a big basin and a hose. You use the hose to fill the basins. You light a fire under the big basin. You do not light fires under the small basins, they are plastic. Instead, you use hot water made hot in the big basin to mix with the cold hose water in the small basin to make for the perfect luke warm water. This is mostly done with ladles. We'll get back to this luke-warm water in a minute.

-In the third chamber is heat! And some wooden benches. There is another fire, which you have lit (along with the second chamber's big-basin fire) about an hour ago. It's now rollicking along, cracking and cooking. And above this fire are the coals. These two things, the fire and the coals, make for a 75-100 degree Celcius throat burning, body dripping experience. Plus, you get another ladle in here! To ladle water onto the coals to make it Even Hotter. Have fun kids, but be careful. When you get too hot to breath, head back to the second chamber and use one of its ladles to scoop luke-warm water (or freezing cold water, if you prefer) all over yourself. This is how you bathe! Isn't it great. Then,

-Outside. Outside is outside. There are chairs here to sit naked in the fresh air while your body tries to figure out what is going on. Once it has, or once the mosquitoes have noticed you, go back in the sauna and start again. (Sometimes outside means jumping in a lake, if one is handy. Or drinking beer and/or eating something grilled.)

And again and again. And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. To be done with family and friends. Which I think is just lovely. Sitting naked and quiet in the hot-wood heat.

PS. I didn't have energy (because I'm sauna-melted right now) to mention the vasta (or vihta ). It's great too.