This Week: North Carolina.

This week, we head down to North Carolina in an SUV. To record vocals.

The drive promises to be 10 hours or so. Yay. I *love* long car drives.

I now have my mind squarely on finishing this thing. Which is good. Not everything may be to my liking, and I ponder occasionally on the rightness of that. I'm wondering if I should make a last play to have every little thing changed until I love every little thing. That could take much more money. And another year.

I originally thought I'd do another photoshoot, and hire a designer to do my artwork. BUT. I mocked up a cover, using photos from my last shoot. I like them. I've even come up with a tentative title.

Things are moving, humming, buzzing.

My thoughts turn again to performing live. *sigh*

I wrestle. I wrestle, I wrestle, I wrestle with the live thing. I'm not great at it. It doesn't feel particularly comfortable. But, I know that I get something from performing live that I don't get anywhere else in my life. It's a worthy challenge for me, to do it well. To get up on stage and come off it knowing that I've said what I wanted to say, exactly the way I wanted to say it. And I've had some good shows.

But the taste of the bad ones in the distant past stays with me, sticks in my mouth, lingering and nasty. I know I'll have to get over it - else what's all this album crap leading up to?

Nervous as heck, though.

jules

Will the Real Singer Please Stand Up?

Okay, we've started vocals on the album.

There has been a *major* change of venue for the main vocal session/mixing, we're headed down south to North Carolina in a couple of weeks to work with a friend of my producer. Who is even more anal sonically than my producer is. That should be interesting. So, I will be in NC doing vocals on my birthday, and that suits me down to the ground.

I got a little taste last weekend, we started vocals in the Brooklyn studio. I sang in the basement and shared the room with a few eager mosquitos.

Vocals are a complete mindfuck for me. I only sound a *little* on tape like I do in my head, and I am still getting used to the fact that I will never, never sound as good as I want to, or as good as I think I should. The best I can do is go for the 'tude, which I manage to achieve sometimes. The scratch vocals are pretty damn good, and my producer is lobbying to keep more of those original vocals than I am comfortable with. So, there's a task on my hands, to top those performances.

Gn.

My producer turned me on to Preston Sturges, a *great* writer director in the 40s/50s. The Miracle of Morgan's Creek is a subversive film, the anti-MGM. Wrapped in a slapstick, 40s film package. Very funny and weird at the same time. Also saw Unfaithfully Yours from Preston. Not as successful a film, I believe, but Rex Harrison was good, equal parts 'adoring' and 'nasty piece of work'.

I am currently reading John Biguenet's collection of short stories, The Torturer's Apprentice. This guy hits hard. Even for the stories that only last a couple of pages.

I'm writing songs like a crazy fiend these days, imagining the next musical project I will start after my album is done. Or even, before my album is finished.

Hm,

jules

I Wish I Could Be Less Stressed About Livin'.

This is that point in my "weekend" when I start to feel like a ground sloth.

It's been too hot for me to do anything in my hot little apartment. And now it's Thursday night, and raining, and it feels like I've already lost tomorrow to time, heat, and circumstance. I feel like I've done absolutely nothing.

Except, I haven't been doing nothing.

I (loosely, sloppily) recorded a song this morning. I'm not in love with it, but it is finished, and that's what I'm going for these days. I'm about halfway finished with the lyric of something that's brand new. If all goes well, I'll be putting this baby down tomorrow.

My exercise has suffered a little, but it didn't have to.

I've been thinking, a lot a lot a lot, about Mr. My-Latest-Obsession. And how I can decrease the distance between him and me. To be a stalker is beneath my dignity, but man, I could so, so easily go there. Hm. I'll keep thinking.

Netflix came through for me today - Sling Blade and Prestige tonight.

Hope you're having a good one.

jules

Lock Me In Monologue, Fruity. I'm Going Down.

Have you seen Takashi Miike's Audition?

That movie was my Netflix blip last night; I had to avert my eyes. Homegirl, while certifiably insane, made some interesting points in answer to her cruelty. Still, though. The last fifteen minutes of this movie were damn near impossible.

...Or Kurosawa's Rashomon?

I had to start this over a couple of times before I got to the end, but this movie does make its point in an artful, passionate way. I dig the whole "differing points of view" thing.

I should be heading for the gym right now, so I'll head there. My first exercise in a week. Better be a good one.

x,

jules

I'm Here Wishing (or, A Kiss Blown From The Void.)

Howdy.

(God, who am I saying hi to, anyway?)

Today, I found myself wishing hard to hear from Mr. My-Latest-Obsession (yes, the same guy is *still* my latest obsession). He hasn't written since April, and I check every day.

And then today I remembered, I haven't written in my own blog in donkey's years.

So I'm here, hoping to stir a ripple in the universe.

How are you?

I am good. I am actually good.

*Lots* going on.

The album is going hot and heavy.

We're about 85% of the way there. We should be done with all the recording beginning of August, mixing at the end of August. And then I'll have a record. I am a little bit frightened. There is much to do between then and now, There will be lots of discussion (and maybe a few fights) about final instrument choice, track listing, et cetera.

My producer and I have *very* different musical opinions, I am discovering.

I've also picked up on my health regimen with a great personal trainer. I'm in the gym almost every day. Except for the past week. I've been ill and generally slacking, but I'm picking it back up this week with a vengeance. You just watch me.

Had a nice NaNo-related evening a few weeks ago - Chris Baty was in town. We had an extended chat. Nice guy. I got all fired up again to revise my novel. And even, ahem, think of the one I'm going to be doing this year. Seriously, writing energy is good energy.

So, what else?

My apartment is a mess. I *really* need to do laundry. My cats seem happy enough. There are a thousand things to do. I'm still guarding the flame over a few secret loves. My secret sorrows still throw me into the abyss once in a while, but they number less and less as the days go by.

There are also quite a few beautiful personalities in my life that I am very thankful for.

My sociability level varies wildly. It's almost seasonal. My life, my phone, has been very, very silent since last fall. A recent spate of birthdays and dinners and meetings for tea have picked things up in the past month or so. It's been a joy to get plugged back into the lives of my friends. And to realize that they *are* my friends.

I have been reading, just upgraded to two movies at a time for Netflix, and I have been songwriting. It's hard to give equal time to everything, and to make more hours in the day.

Worth a try, though.

jules

No-Hesitating Day.

Today was a no-hesitating day.

This morning I did the most difficult thing I've had to do in a while. The sky did not fall down on my head, at all. In fact, the other party involved reacted in the best of all possible ways. I do care about him. Much.

:-)

I saw Taxi Driver for the first time a couple of nights ago. This movie made me understand the whole "Robert De Niro" thing, which I didn't quite get before. It made me think about Catcher in the Rye, Holden Caulfield, and all the other lonely souls I've been communing with lately. How isolated do you have to be before your switch gets flipped and you start to lose it? I worry about that sometimes.

It's nearly 11 o'clock and I'm waiting for a phone call. There's a sweet cat nuzzled beside me and a mountain of things to do. I'm in "get all this shit together" mode. Some important appointments tomorrow, a rehearsal. I would sleep now if I weren't waiting for this mega important call that could keep me up until the wee hours.

I'm going to put on a sweater. It's cold in here.

You know what I need? 30 nights of silent sleep. I've been spending fitful nights with the DVD on in the background, and I need to cut that crap out. Dreams, while not often pleasant, contain some useful information. They're always slightly banged out of shape with Bill Bailey's standup going in the background.

I had a second cup of my favorite coffee tonight, and I'm feeling it, that empty adrenaline surge. Love that caffeine.

If I get home early enough, I'm going to put my computer together. The reason I've been hesitating is that I need to re-jig my music space. I don't know if I should make moderations where it is or move it altogether. I don't have a lot of space to play with either way.

Enough rambling. Off to read. And wait for my call.

jules

Already.

Already there are two things I that I didn't hesitate to do today.

Thank you, Mr. My-Latest-Obsession.

Unfortunately, there is one major thing that I've been hesitating to do. Ack. I'll work on that.

Ack! I'm hesitating! Grumble grumble!

Gnn,

jules

Dr. My-Latest-Obsession.

*sigh*

There's a lot I could say. A lot has happened in the past few days and some of it is not good.

But.

I won't talk about that now. I'll just throw some ions out in the ether in the direction of my latest obsession.

Mr. My-Latest-Obsession. He's startlingly eloquent, he makes delicious word pizzas. Dreams are pepperonis. The guitar riffs are the gooey cheese. But, that testosterone-fueled thought machine ticking inside that beautiful shell is the sauce. He's thrown a few message out into the Space himself. I've read most of them. And I'll respond to them, sort of. Here, where he can't see me. Engage in a one-way conversation.

So, a while back, he said, to someone who wasn't me, but who might as well have been me, that he is cursed with "hesitation."

Yes. That is my diagnosis from back to front. And now that Dr. My-Latest-Obsession has so kindly pointed it out, it's up to me to do something about it.

Thank you, Dr.

j.

Inspiration.

I'm headed over to The Living Room to do some recording with my producer this morning, in a couple of hours. Have been practicing like mad all week.

I have found a man who inspires me.

He is a musician, naturally. But he's also a lightning rod, reaching his arm into the air and channeling electricity down from the heavens with his words. His words make my head spin in a way that it hasn't in a long, long time. The last few days I've been down down down, down, absorbing all I can of him, starving for more. He makes my mouth dry. Makes me want a bigger life, a life that might bring me face to face with him.

I'm wondering if I should stop waking up to the news. It's pretty depressing all the way around.

Here's a positive thing:
I've started exercising again. Even after a couple of weeks I am breathing (and singing) so much better. That's a good thing.

jules

Marching. On.

Hi there.

FAWM/RPM wrap-up: Counting the two co-writes and one remake, I am turning in 13 songs (FAWM's goal is 14). I could have mailed off an "album" for RPM (only 10 songs), but it would have just been a bunch of incongruous material thrown on a CD; I couldn't genuinely call it an album. So I didn't complete RPM.

In the last few days of FAWM, my mind started to rebel against songwriting. I wasn't feeling inspired, at all. I think the week in Canada absorbed much of my creative energy, and my body just resisted writing crap to make a deadline (not that some of the songs I did post weren't crap). Add to that the fact that there are some talented MoFos on that board. Not just songwriters, but players and arrangers as well. Which made me less willing to turn in something that isn't my best work.

But it's a fun, wild, inspired community of people. I am glad to have taken part, and I will again. My goal for next year will be to turn something thoughtful and coherent, keeping February free enough to turn out something special.

There are still three demos left to do (I posted placeholder lyric pages), and I plan to get through them all today.

My computer (complete with Cubase and interface) is arriving today!

My sister is safely installed in Korea. She's got her own room and bathroom, which is just about all a person needs, I think.

Recipe #1: Yesterday I had a craving for dip. I even dreamed about having dip (with crackers, in the kitchen of a 19th century castle, with my younger brother and sister - go figure!). So, I bought the ingredients and made dip for the first time. Nothing fancy, just a spinach dip thrown together with Lipton soup mix, sour cream, mayo and spinach. Mmmmm. Immensely satisfying.

I also got a new fridge. When I came back from Canada, the cooling mechanism on my fridge had busted, and everything inside (not much, to be honest) was nasty and warm. The super brought over a new fridge yesterday. The 45 minutes it took to get all the magnetic poetry off the front door were simultaneously cathartic and sad, as all my poetry from the last couple of years fell away.

The words now wait in a bowl, to be thrown up again in some other order.

Certainly a metaphor for...something.

In nine days I meet again with my producers to chart out the instrumentation and schedule to complete my album.

March, I've decided, is "get my ass to the gym" month.

jules