not resolutions -- just a list

write more
sing better
clean, sort, tidy, de-clutter
paint
do yoga
eat better
regularly tell my loved ones that I love them
sleep more
drink less
listen
travel
give gifts
repair
garden
write down my dreams
affirm
source
share
kiss
smile
breathe

21 Years, A Nice E-Mail, A Gorgeous View

so much love it hurts
not just because the day has come to acknowledge our love
but because the light shimmers behind soft pink clouds nestled in canyons as the sun rises behind me
refining the sharp illumination of daylight
spirits in our midst


so much love it hurts
not because of the gratitude of being able to breath freely without remorse
but because as I think of you, you think of me
sending me your gifts of music and hope
with unconditional wishes for me to take what I will and use as I shall


so much love it hurts
the throbbing aching pulse of vitality
a reminder that the mundane contains as much life
as those spectacular splashes of experience that thrill you into awareness
and simply by glancing in the direction of my routine
I am connected to something much larger than me


so much love
so much love
so much love


your fingers graceful on the strings
stretching easily create harmony
then gently caress my cheek
until you kiss me

The Sunday after Thanksgiving: Carrot Soup

The Sunday after Thanksgiving.  Cannot eat any more left overs.  It is cold outside.  I have pounds of unused carrots and onions.  It's time for carrot soup.  I served garlic bread with fresh roast fennel along with the soup.


The Carrot by ~Klakikocia on deviantART

(Measurements and times are approximate as I threw this meal together on the fly.)

Olive oil
2 onions, chopped
3 cloves of garlic, pressed
2 inches of fresh ginger, grated
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon tumeric
1 tablespoon kosher salt (more or less to taste)
2 pounds carrots, washed, peeled and cut into chunks
1 can coconut milk

In large stock pot, saute onions in oil until they become fragrant and soften.  When transparent add garlic, ginger, coriander, turmeric, salt, stirring well to blend with the onions.  Continue to saute until spices become fragrant. Add carrots and stir to blend well with the onion/spice mixture.  Add 12 cups water.  Bring soup to a boil, then cover, reduce heat and simmer until carrots soften (or longer if you like).  Turn of the heat, and let the soup sit for a few moments so it is no longer boiling hot.  Mash the carrots with a potato masher, then using an immersion blender, smooth out the soup.  (Alternatively, you can process everything in a blender but it is much easier this way).  Stir in the coconut milk.  Turn the heat back on, and bring the soup back to a boil, stirring occasionally to blend the coconut milk.

We also had left over fennel so to accompany the soup, we had garlic bread with roast fennel:

2 bulbs fennel (either whole or cut in half), washed and trimmed
Lots of olive oil
Kosher salt

1 baguette sliced in half the long way
Olive oil
Fresh pressed garlic to taste

Preheat oven to 450.  Place the fennel in a pan.  Coat liberally with olive oil, sprinkle with salt. Place in the oven.  Roast until soft and caramelized. 

At some point, coat each half of the baguette with olive oil and rub with garlic.  Stick it in the oven and bake, checking frequently until it reaches desired toastiness.

Serve topped with the fennel, either sliced or mashed in.  This meal is good with beer -- a nice hoppy beer.

Re-emerging

I am coming off a two-month period of intense work that overtook my entire being so that all of my time, all of my mental energy, all of my emotional energy was devoted to taking care of the business of my job and I had nothing left whatsoever for any other aspect of my life -- my family, my house, my garden, my music, my friends were all terribly neglected during this time.  As a result, as I try to shake off the "project" that seems to have seeped into my pores so that it is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, I put on my headphones and start listening as a means of reconnecting with my musical community.  Although I may not truly feel like this is all really over until I put away the five or six baskets of laundry that languish in baskets on the floor at the foot of my bed. . .   

Emerge by ~Mystic-Majinbuu on deviantART

Tears

I continue to cry for no obvious reasons, sadness lingering in my heart. Despair as heavy as the humidty that wilts even the drought resistant flowers recently planted in our garden. Only my children can ground me and cause me to pull myself together.  Their love and my love for them a reminder that there are inherant meanings.

The Mixin' Kitchen 28 -- Jazz

A woody bass, some splashy keys, a brush on the ride and vocals that express the pathos of love and lonliness, and you’ve got a fine recipe for Jazz. Mmmm. Delicious.

The Mixin' Kitchen 27 -- Freedom & Independence

Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.  -- Albert Camus

The Shrinking World and My Expanding Heart

In the past 14 months, my life has moved into an unexpected, and wildly exciting direction. Through ccMixter.org, I have felt the world shrink as I have started to develop relationships with people from all over the globe. My children think it incredibly odd that I can feel so connected, so close and so trusting of people I have met through the internet, especially as I took great pains to indoctrinate them with “internet safety” speeches as they entered the virtual world of the web via myspace, facebook, youtube and various forums that they visited. Of course, if they started corresponding regularly with folks they met on-line, my protective mother-bear guard would be activated. If they actually met someone they encountered on the internet I would have them traced by special forces.



Nevertheless, I have found some of my internet friendships to be particularly satisfying. Several of the people I have met through my internet activities have become my dear friends. The fact that we are connecting through music and engaging in creative collaboration establishes a common ground and interest that seems to foster genuine feeling. In some ways, these relationships have become the most important friendships as we reflect to each other our creative aspirations, the insecurities and passions that inform us as artists, and our mutual delight at finding each other – our differences in lifestyle and background fascinating and our common ground binding.



I have had the pleasure of meeting some of my “virtual” friends “in real life” including the remarkable Ciggi Burns who traveled all the way from London to visit. I have met MC Jack in the Box who treated us to lunch in Santa Cruz. I met Snowflake, Spinningmerkaba and Goldfish who spent the night at my house and with whom I played music into the wee hours of the morning.

And most recently, I had the pleasure of meeting Gurdonark. Gurdonark lives in Texas but he was in my home town and after many invitations through our correspondence (i.e., “Next time you are in town you better call me, or else. . . “) it finally worked out that we could get together. Gurdonark is one of the first artists to remix my voice at ccM. After that, we worked collaboratively on a piece for Independence Day – God Bless this Land – which was just a joy to work on, as Gurdonark is an informed mixter who generously shares what he knows about electronic music making and resources for tools, distribution and source material. Later in the year, he and I spearheaded The White Cube Remix project together, redefining our collaborative relationship, and sealing his place in my affections. The White Cube was a profound creative experience that impacted me in deep, deep ways – and our relationship as partners in that project will always be special to me.

When he came over, we spent some time in the garden, appreciating the flock of finches that made their way into the butterfly bush. I spied hummingbirds in the sage. Lemon blossoms were gently fragrant. We shared a meal. Before dessert, we Skyped with Snowflake and Spinningmerkaba, who included their new kitten Charles Wallace in the conversation. We tried contacting Spinmeister but he was not available.

Afterward, Gurdonark showed me new places where SackJo22 might be found on the internet, blowing my mind completely as we discovered my voice in previously unknown videos, and learned that hundreds of people are listening to me on last.fm. I had no idea! That was thrilling actually! And the fact that Gurdonark had been watching out for me was incredibly touching. His support and encouragement is incredibly heartwarming – makes me feel excited and hopeful about my musical future.

(All photos courtesy of Gurdonark)

The Mixin Kitchen 26 -- Happy Anniversary!

I hope you’ll join me as The Mixin’ Kitchen celebrates its one-year anniversary podcasting tasty tracks from ccMixter by revisiting some of this year’s favorites! Thanks to everyone who has shared their support and encouragement this past year.

The Mixin Kitchen 25 -- Memory

I remember. Do you?

The Mixin Kitchen 24 -- Dark & Brooding

Goethe writes: Where there is much light, the shadow is deep.

Sometimes I sit in the dark.

The Funk Continues. . .

I have been sad for more than a week now.  Today, despite the sunshine and illuminating light of May, I feel incredibly sad, almost unbearably sad.

The Mixin' Kitchen 23 -- Zagareet

Listen for the Zagareet — the trilling sound women in lands far away make during celebration — as we explore the flavors and sounds of music from the Middle East, North Africa, India, and other enticing locales.

The Mixin' Kitchen 22 -- On the Road

A apecial edition of the The Mixin’ Kitchen, as I go on the road with Ciggi Burns and the fine London Ladies Windy Miller and Wild Westy, with a special visit to MC Jack in the Box. Touring the California coast with hurricane-like conditions one night, vistas that inspired breathlessness and tears, the constant companionship of hawks, fine vintage Cuvee, and an abundance of good cheer! (Voice overs were recorded on the road too — so please excuse fidelity issues.)

The Mixin' Kitchen 21 -- The Glass is Full

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars. - Charles A Beard

Heart-Warming Sun and a Gentle Breeze

     I woke up feeling pretty crappy today -- depressed, anxious, disappointed. My usual positive point of view darkened by the situation with my car dying, our financial reality and T.'s bad attitude. And then there's the feeling of a lack of sympathy and comfort.
     I did seek comfort in biscuits, which while comforting at first -- slightly salty, a bit of crunch on the outside, soft fluffy and warm on the inside, the butter clarifying as it melts into the center -- just became another symbol of my misery and the tendency toward excess which got me into this emotional state in the first place as I ate way too many biscuits, so that on top of everything else, I suffer remorse and shame for my appetites.
     As I poured myself coffee this morning, my mind raced through my miserable thoughts playing scenarios of avoidance ("I'm not going to talk to anyone today") to scenarios of confrontation ("I want to talk to you! You are just so. . .") My misery itself a source of conflict as I thought of my friend who recently lost her husband and is struggling with her grief over that tragic death; and another friend who has no money whatsoever but rich, rich aspirations; and another who negotiates his nuerosis and health and personal mess as best as he can. In reality, I have nothing to complain about, and yet. . .this moment, quite frankly, is challenging.
     I took my misery, my coffee and a book into the garden. The garden is fragrant with pink jasmine and lemon blossoms. A chorus of birds call and respond, hidden in the trees of our garden and our neighbor's, their songs the conversation of spring which has arrived with heart-warming sun and a gentle breeze so that within moments of sitting in the comfortable garden chair with my feet propped up, the the dire misery I was almost relishing started to dissipate and the beauty that I noticed in the minutae of our little messy backyard delighted me!
     The succulents in pots on the patio have all grown and those with variegated leaves are particularly charming, reminding me of the finish of vintage pottery -- red-lined yellow leaves blending into green, pink blushed tips, and the silver sentinels of the ice plant. The mallow has grown so now it is a screen across the ragged wood fence making me wish we had planted it across the entire far side, its flowers delicate and lovely magenta-centered-pink mandala's, friendly and lovely. The penis flower bush is erect, almost ready to show its colors, the flower stalks tall, firm, but not yet showing their purple burst. Cat mint is growing back, lush and green at the foot of the lavendar which is sprawling, a hotbed of bee activity. The butterfly bush seems to yet again have expanded its girth. H. placed the bird bath where the pomegranate tree was before we moved it to the front and it makes a terrific focal point with artemesia and licorice flanking its base. And I consider the improvements I would like to make -- replace the bench that was moved when we cleared up, add more irisina, plant white lantana under the lemon tree. . .such forward thinking thoughts themselves a harbinger of hope.

(Photo courtesy of Phil Sellens via flickr)

The Mixin' Kitchen 20 -- Spring

Spring has returned. The earth is like a child that knows poems. Rainer Maria Rilke.

You can listen by visiting ccmixter.org or by playing below.

I Am Breathing

I got stronger medicine.  It works.  I finally, finally feel better -- my energy, enthusiasm, and motivation have all returned.  Perhaps, even too, inspiration is making its way back in.  It is almost spring.  The pink jasmine is bursting into bloom.  This past Sunday, we roto-tilled the front as we move forward on our plan to replace the lawn with a mediterranean meadow that will  use less water, yet weeds are already making their way back -- the sun and nutritious earth promoting their rapid growth.

This week, I started laying down vocal tracks for the latest song we are working on for our album project.  I have started my secret remix.  I have started thinking about T.'s birthday and how quickly she has grown up.  I visited my dear friend whose husband committed violent suicide the week before.

Tonight, I am in San Francisco.  I am alone. As I flew up, I was mesmerized by the view of the earth below me.  The mountains were craggy, sharp as garden rocks, the edges honed by shadows.  I tried to identify the landscape as we flew but I do not think I was terribly successful.  There were unfamiliar mountain ranges dotting the earth, dusted with snow so that they resembled a disastrous attept at cake -- lumpy and uneven, but delectible nonetheless with the promise of powdered sugar sweetness.  As we approached Oakland, we were parellel with wisps of cloud in an otherwise clear cloud.  Wisps of cloud that seemed to race us like ghosts.

After I arrived and checked into the hotel,  I wandered the streets for a while. The tourists were so easy to identify -- I wondered if I seemed like a tourist.  Although I am a native Californian, I am most certainly a southern Californian having spent my entire life living in Los Angeles.  Yet, I did not have a map in my hand as I walked.  On the other hand, I also did not walk with a real purpose or destination -- perhaps a dead giveway of my non-local status.  I considered going out for a drink, a bite to eat.  But I really cannot tolerate eating in a restaurant by myself.  While I thoroughly enjoy good food, it is a pleasure I prefer to share with others, or at least privately with the distraction of reading material or my computer. . .so I didn't go out to eat which may be a bit of a tragedy as San Francisco is a foodie city.  Although after walking around for an hour, and being solicited for money at least 10 times in that short period of time, I was happy to return to the hotel where I had an overpriced but delicious glass of wine and cesar salad with salmon. 

I do value solitude.  To be alone with my inner voice is a pleasure.  I love to be able to visit with myself in that way.  But at the end of the day, I sure wish H. was with me as the room is comfortable and luxurious, and would be better off shared.

The Mixin Kitchen 19 - Feelin' Groovy

Feelin’ groovy! Infused with the groove, the urge to move, and adding cheer to your mood!

You can listen by visiting ccmixter.org or by playing below.

It is Time for Stronger Medicine

So far, this year has been fraught with one illness after another.  No matter how they start -- ear ache, sore throat -- they all end up in my sinuses and reside there for weeks at a time.  And this year, just when I thought I could see the light, I get nailed again.  At this point, I am discouraged, disgruntled and depressed trying to resolve sinus infection number three. 

As I drove home from work yesterday, my eye was struck by the beauty of the green carpeted hills that were slipping in dusk under a thickly clouded sky, heavy with a taste of rain that may or may not come.  I was driving in a technocolor movie set where the expansive beauty of the sky and the hills could only have been created by masterful artisans.  By my heart was not really open to what that felt like. I saw it.  I did not feel it.  That added to my dismay.  I am too stuffed up to feel that which inspired me.

I will see the doctor this afternoon.  I will get anxious as I wait.  I will probably even feel clearer as my adreline will be slightly pumped up by the anticipation of seeing the doctor. I will feel guitly for being there, as if somehow I should not be taking up the doctor's time.  But at this point, as I have not seen the doctor since January when this all started with an ear infection (which at that time, had not yet landed in my sinus), I am resigned to the fact that stronger medicine is required. I have tried a gazillion over the counter, home and alternative remedies.  At the point, I just need stronger medicine.

Meanwhile, my creative activities have been hampered.  I had a day or two in the past couple of months when I was able to sing -- but even those efforts still have some lingering evidence of post-nasal drip.  Also, my energy for such work is completely compromised.  I managed to participate in some big projects -- Box, Window, Door, two impov performances, several podcasts have been delivered (with distinctly adenoidinal voice overs) -- but I was immediately slammed after each effort with a relapse.  I thought I had given myself time and permission to recover, likening the sinus infection to an apt analaogy; after a remarkable year of incredible activity, I needed to take some time to breathe.  I was comfortable shutting down for a week or two -- but this is now too much. 

Spring is imminent and I want my heart to be open to all spring offers -- its delight, its promise, its potential.

The Mixin' Kitchen 18 -- Oceans

This kitchen is afloat.

On Life’s vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale.

Alexander Pope

You can listen by visiting ccmixter, via iTunes (search ccmixter), or with the player below.

The Mixin' Kitchen 17 -- Time

“All that really belongs to us is time; even he who has nothing else, has that.” — Baltasar Gracian

You can listen at ccmixter, via iTunes (search ccmixter), or via the player below.

The Mixin' Kitchen 16 -- Rain

“Into each life some rain must fall.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

You can listen at ccmixter, via iTunes (search ccmixter), or the player below.

The Mixin' Kitchen 15 -- Birds and Bees

Birds and Bees -- Literal and Fantastic

You can listen at ccmixter , via iTunes (just search ccmixter), or by using the handy player below.