Posted November 14, 2010 at 12:05 pm

zzzzzz

I am not used to staying up until 530 AM. Insight into self: have become a homebody. Last night: dressed up for ball, teetered around in high heels, went to party in Chelsea, then off we were to the Cossack Ball: which was very fun, but surprisingly took place at the Polish Club. Surprisingly, because historically Poles and Cossacks were never very chummy, as far as I know. Well, it's nice to know that maybe in London, in the 21st century the ancient rifts have been mended..

Unlike what you may think, no, I can't do any Russian folk dances. And not in high heels.

I sang a song a cappella, then off we were to some club which was FULL of bodies gyrating to the thumping beat. Fortunately we were in the some VIP area, so there was some air and actual couches to sit on. But the club made me very claustrophobic, especially as we walked in, somehow made it to the middle through the wall of people and suddenly the lights were turned off. Great.

It also made me think: why go to a club and pretend to want to be having a conversation (in the VIP area, particularly)? I mean, the music is so loud you practically have to shout into someone's ear and then after a few attempts you give up. So basically people go to a club to lose all awareness of being a separate creature and become part of a pulsating mass of bodies. And have sex. Am I wrong?

Note to self: am not clubbing person.

My ball gown was safely tucked away in my bag, and unlike my other girlfriends, I brought my cool shiny and rather comfortable boots (still glamorous enough) but oh so much more welcoming to my poor feet.

Note to self #2: can't spend hours in high heels.

Cue in 430 AM and a large group of us having breakfast at some place which also still served alcohol.

I had a rather nice omelette.

Fell asleep at 6 am on the blow-up mattress at the friends' place and when I woke up in the late morning, half of London's tube was shut down "for engineering repairs".

Note to self: love London, but only half as much when the tube is not working properly and it takes ages to get anywhere. With bag full of ball gown in hand.

Note to self #3: I don't know how people do this on a regular basis and also drink alcohol. I feel like a ran a marathon last night, but all I did was run around London and try and be social. And sing – once. If I had been more adventurous and actually said yes to those vodka shots that kept being passed around.. or the strange pink cocktail inventions. Well. I would not be here yet to write this lucid and caffeinated blog, most probably.

Conclusion: these things have to be experienced at least once:) But I could have done without the club part. I met some lovely people and enjoyed the general feel of levity and slight insanity in the air.

Except for one instant when I got left behind in a rush and it started raining. Well, at least they came back for me. So, a happy ending.

Posted November 9, 2010 at 7:46 am

I am in London, it's 3.37 am, I am awake, heavily jet lagged, of course. It is good to be back. I feel particularly awake and alive in London, in general, regardless of the weather – which, at the moment, makes heavy gray clouds scatter quickly across the sky outside. It is almost as if London's energy, as a city, meshes with mine, frequency-wise, and feeds something within me.

My head feels a touch like a major train station right now, with thoughts in various states of stop and go and people milling about.

I think I'll try and go to sleep, however, because otherwise tomorrow jet lag will have the best of me.

I am glad I came back before the year is over. So much has changed for me in 2010.

Petr Frolov, via Mystic Medusa.

“‘There are two kinds of people,’ she once decreed to me emphatically. ‘One kind, you can just tell by looking at them at what point they congealed into their final selves. It might be a very nice self, but you know you can expect no more surprises from it. Whereas, the other kind keep moving, changing…They are fluid. They keep moving forward and making new trysts with life, and the motion of it keeps them young. In my opinion, they are the only people who are still alive. You must be constantly on your guard, Justin, against congealing.’”

Gail Godwin, The Finishing School

Posted November 3, 2010 at 9:48 am

London!

So last night I sang my little heart out and it felt very good. Two of my highlights of the night: a Russian fan bringing a little painting as a gift for me, and someone I highly respect comparing me to Freddie Mercury. Well, that last one made my month, you could say.

And now work, work, work and off to London on Monday.

I am performing at The Elgin in Notting Hill, Thursday, November 11th at 9 PM. Please let your friends in London know! Oh, I can't wait.

Here is the link with the venue's info and address:

http://www.geronimo-inns.co.uk/theelginlive/

Posted November 2, 2010 at 5:17 am

performing and London

Tonight I am filling in for someone at the local performance space Room 5 at 8 pm. It's got an upright piano, and I am keeping it simple and acoustic, but will feature a couple of new songs from the record.

And then, come Monday, I am off to London. Among other things, I'll be performing at the Elgin, which is in Notting Hill. It's a cozy room with a baby grand piano, which makes me happy, as always.

Performing will do me good, as everything, including the songs is starting to feel different after this period in the studio..

Posted October 17, 2010 at 9:36 am

transformation

Today is a rainy Sunday and tomorrow back to the studio for another week. After which, there is a bit of a break, and we are finishing up the record end of next month-early December, I believe.

I have been restless. And feeling not unlike a caterpillar must feel, still within its protective shell, but counting down the days to the big It.

Although, is there ever a big It? Are we, perhaps, so conditioned by our linear storytelling, and films, especially, that the big changes and events in our lives are expected to transpire overnight, or over a course of a day or two, underscored by dramatic music?

When, in fact, perhaps, the transformation happens over months and weeks, instead. And when it actually becomes visible to the eye, yes, it does so over a few days. But it is a result of something taking seed and struggling forth from the oft neglected and parched soil of the inner world of the heart.

I sat down in the studio the other day to record another version of Snow in Venice. And although I had not performed for two months only, I felt it differently. I segued into other songs, as I was warming up and the producer & engineer were working on figuring out the right sound. And everything felt different. It was unsettling. Not in a bad way, mind you, but unsettling all the same.

Perhaps I could describe it best by bringing up that old Jim Carrey film: The Truman Show. Not quite as dramatic, but the gist of it being that you wake up one day and although everything around you looks the same, you are not the same on the inside. A certain knowing suffuses you and can't be ignored. And what seemed to be so solid and real around you: the trappings of this and that, your usual fears or attachments, suddenly feel like a movie set.

I feel like I am in that moment when what is on the inside has changed, but the outside is yet to catch up with it. The physical is slower to flow. So there is this sense of unease and discomfort, like when you are a kid and you are growing so fast, your clothes never fit you on a daily basis..

I have been undergoing a transformation for a while now, but it has been accelerating in the recent months. Being in the studio, singing and recording; those have greatly sped up the process, as well.

I must go back to my trusty remedy: Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet.

And dance, as well, for the less I move – and there has been little of that, being in the studio much of the time in the last weeks – the more anxious I can get.

Next week I will post some photographs of Greg and I in the studio.