My sweetest boy

I love my son, my fierce little light. He has been coming into my bed in the middle of the night, wanting comfort and someone to sleep next to. In the morning if I wake up before him, I kiss his cheeks and call him my sweetest boy. He throws his arms around me without opening his sleepy eyes. One morning he woke before me, and he kissed my cheeks and called me his sweetest girl. I opened my eyes to see his smiling face next to mine. I thought to myself that I could die right now, I was so happy.

Say Goodnight and Go

The other day S texted me to say he was in town and I told him I hope he has a good week. Its strange for me, to be drawing hard lines. To break the ties that bind. But I think its a step in the right direction, honoring myself and my intentions and not settling for second place.

I'm sorry, I told you I loved you and you think we can be just friends now? I don't think so.

I used to feel guilty about that. Now I don't. My mother told me on Sunday that my dad tried to pull that on her the month before they were married. He wanted to call it off and just be friends. She said no, and went to a bar to get drown her sorrows. He came and found her and took it all back.


Say Goodnight and Go
by Imogen Heap (mp3)

Say goodnight and go.

Skipping beats,
Blushing cheeks.
I am... struggling..
Daydreaming,
Bed scenes in... the corner cafe
And then I'm left in bits recovering tectonic... tremblings
You get me every time.

Why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you..
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.

Follow you home,
You've got your headphones on
And you're dancing
Got lucky;
Beautiful shot:
You're taking everything off
Watch the curtains wide open
And you're following the same routine;
Flicking through the TV, relaxed and reclining
And you think you're alone..

Oh, why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you,
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.

One of these days,
You'll miss your train,
And come stay with me...
{It's always say goodnight and go}
We'll have drinks,
And talk about things and,
Any excuse to stay awake with you...
You'd sleep here,
I'd sleep there,
But then the heating may be down again,
At my convenience...
We'd be good,
We'd be great together...

Go (sigh)
{Instrumental pause}

Why'd ya have to be so cute?
It's impossible to ignore you,
Must you make me laugh so much?
It's bad enough we get along so well..
Say goodnight and go.

Why's it always always:
goodnight and go?
Oh, Darling not again,
Goodnight and... go...

giving myself musical credit where credit is due

I had a cello lesson today! And although it was frustrating and difficult, I got some great stuff out of it. She asked me how it was that I knew how to read and write music. I mentioned that I had piano lessons when I was 8 years old or so. She said that was remarkable that I still knew how to read and write music after all that time.

But later on I realize that I was selling myself short. I tend to do that. In music, I think of myself as a relative newbie. But check this out:

8 years old:
piano lessons 1-2 years, (didn't practice much)

elementary school:
played flute in band one year (didn't do well enough to continue on)

middle school:
choir 1 year, sang competitively once, won top prize and had a command performance recital.

college:
private vocal lessons for 1 year, plus singing class
composition class for 1 semester (probably where all the music writing came back)

pregnant with my son
singing lessons for 1 year


So you see, its not such a stretch that I would find my way back to music, or know enough to write. And the only one who is surprised is me :)

iron & wine sweetness

Sigh. I love this man's lyrics, his voice, his simple guitar melodies.

I wonder if I will hear this from my son, one day when he is grown.


Upward Over the Mountain
by Iron & Wine

Mother don't worry, I killed the last snake that lived in the creek bed
Mother don't worry, I've got some money I saved for the weekend
Mother remember being so stern with that girl who was with me?
Mother remember the blink of an eye when I breathed through your body?

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds, flying upward over the mountain

Mother I made it up from the bruise on the floor of this prison
Mother I lost it, all of the fear of the Lord I was given
Mother forget me now that the creek drank the cradle you sang to
Mother forgive me, I sold your car for the shoes that I gave you

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons could be birds, taken broken up to the mountain

Mother don't worry, I've got a coat and some friends on the corner
Mother don't worry, she's got a garden we're planting together
Mother remember the night that the dog had her pups in the pantry?
Blood on the floor, fleas on their paws,
And you cried 'til the morning

So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten
Sons are like birds, flying always over the mountain

Valentine's Day

Last year I listened to NPR because I couldn't stand to listen to music. Any music. I took myself to a cafe to work, because I was going crazy working from my house. Then on impulse I went to a music store in Oakland and rented a cello. It was a single act of love towards myself.

I remember bringing it home, taking the cello out of the case, lovingly stroking it with my fingers. I didn't even know how to play. I couldn't wait to start making music on it.

This year, I took Skyler to Fenton's so we could have an ice cream sundae (cookies and cream ice cream with strawberry topping and whipped cream) BEFORE dinner.

We had bought these weird valentines for his class: they were blank faces with eyes, noses, ears, mouths, and accessories as stickers with which you could decorate. We sat and made silly faces with the leftover faces until our sundae arrived.

We came home, had dinner, finished homework, bath time and bed. As I lay in bed next to him, I told him "You are my Valentine" and he grabbed my cheeks with both hands and said "BE MINE". My little lover boy, so affectionate.

What would I do without him? He is such a joy!

a very nice dream

I had an erotic dream last night. I was wearing my black leather corset, standing in front of a woman I used to date, not so long ago. She was smiling at me in a way that said "come play with me!" She looked so pretty and inviting, I had to have her. I unzipped my corset down the front, said something about being dirty. So she grabbed my hand and pulled me to the shower...

I woke up with a languid smile, just before the alarm went off. The radio was playing "Erotic City" but Prince. NICE!

Juno

Last night saw Juno by myself at the Piedmont Theater. I had dinner at the Bar & Grill across the street. The bartender/waitress, Katie?, was so dear, called me sweetie, told me that I didn't look old enough to have a five year old.

They have a chalkboard with the movies playing across the street, and you can cast your vote for whether or not you liked them. I told Katie I was seeing Juno and she positively gushed over it. So I came back after the movie to cast my vote and tell her how much I loved it.

Super sweet movie, the main character is whip smart and very grounded. The teenage boy is so endearing and earnest. I realize I have a teeny crush on Jason Bateman, although his is a pretty ambivalent character.

The music was all great, acoustic singer/songwriter stuff. I need to get the soundtrack. The twist in the movie broke my heart, spent the last 20 minutes with little tears sparkling at the corners of my eyes.

As I left the Bar & Grill, Katie said "have a good night sweetie!"

Seed of a song

This morning, for the first time in many many months, I woke with a little melody tugging at my ear. I pushed snooze on my alarm clock, but the melody wouldn't let me go back to sleep. So at 6:09am, I got out of bed and went to my keyboard and wrote it down. Then I picked up my cello and found its voice. Its a small start, only a couple measures, but like a tiny sprout, it will grow.

Once

Watching the movie "once" now, about a singer/songwriter guitarist/street musician who meets a girl who can sing and play piano. And they write some songs together, and then end up recording. Mostly its about his songs, but there is a moment... a break in recording, and she finds a dark room with a piano. And he finds her and asks her to play him one of her songs. She demures, but he insists. And she sings a heartbreaking song, chokes in the middle and cannot go on.

"Did you write that for your husband?" (from whom she is separated)
"Yeah I did. And he hated it"
"He's an idiot"
"Yeah", she says, half-heartedly chuckling, "he's an idiot"

And she lays her head down on his shoulder. That's when I stopped to write this post.

This movie reminds me of how wonderful it is to collaborate with someone who truly gets you. How intimate an experience music making can be, as intimate as love-making.

The Hill
by Markéta Irglová

Looking up the hill tonight
When you have closed your eyes
I wish I didn't have to make all those mistakes and be wise
Please try to be patient and know that I'm still learning
I'm sorry that you have to see the strength inside me burning

Where are you now, angel now
Don't you see me crying
And I know that you can't do it all
But you can't say your not trying
I'm on my knees in front of him
But he doesn't seem to see me
But all his troubles on his mind is looking right through me
And I'm letting myself down deciding is falling you
And I wished that you could see I have my troubles too

Lookin' at you sleeping
I'm with a man I know
I'm sitting here weeping while the hours pass so slow
And I know that in the mornin' I have to let you go
And you'll be just a man once I leave to know
For these past few days someone I don't recognize
This isn't all my fault
When will you realize

Lookin' at you leavin'
I'm looking for a sign

Sparkly

I got off BART today after work, about 6:00 pm. The sun had set, but the sky was still a riot of color. The streetlights were lit, and the whole world looked sparkly, somehow. I read Jon Carroll's column in the SF Chronicle on the way home, where he recounts the story of a man who is journeying in Central America and at this place he is staying at (in the middle of the jungle) he looks out to find a sea of fireflies, and he is transfixed in the moment. I close my eyes and envision the scene, descending as he did down the stairs beneath the surface of the lights, how beautiful it must be. And then I open my eyes and realize... how beautiful life IS.

The last day of our acquaintance

My mind keeps wanting to see the world as dim and flat. My eyes tell me it is colorful and shiny. Why does the vortex want me to go down? What strange elemental power is this that wants to hold me back? My soul is stretched between sadness and hope. Blurred hues swim in tears. And then nothing.

Listened to this song three times in a row:

The Last Day of Our Acquaintance
by Sinead O'Connor
mp3

This is the last day of our acquaintance
I will meet you later in somebody's office
I'll talk but you won't listen to me
I know what your answer will be
I know you don't love me anymore
You used to hold my hand when the plane took off
Two years ago there just seemed so much more
And I don't know what happened to our love
Today's the day
Our friendship has been stale
And we will meet later to finalize the details
Two years ago the seed was planted
And since then you have taken me for granted
But this is the last day of our acquaintance
I will meet you later in somebody's office
I'll talk but you won't listen to me
I know your answer already
But this is the last day of our acquaintance
I will meet you later in somebody's office
I'll talk but you won't listen to me
I know your answer already
I know your answer already
I know your answer already