November 29, 2006 - 12:37 a.m.
Tonight was something extraordinary. I was brave enough to go on stage, open mic in Berkeley. Performing a classical piece "Romanza" with cello accompaniment. We have been working on this song and "Breathe" for several months. I know it would be a challenging mixture of music to master in a live setting. People seldom tackle such a difficult classical piece in public. I asked Naomi to film us tonight performing. In my opinion, you can't just save the good, sensational performances for later viewing. You have to save the mediocre, not so great performances as well, to tell a truthful story. I was ambitious (stupid) enough to put on new nylon strings last night. A big mistake. Took me several hours to break in the new strings. At least they stayed in tune during tonight's performance. It wasn't my best one to date. Probably ranks in the top worst category. The soundman turned down the floor monitors so my cello partner couldn't hear my guitar. It put us out of syncronization. And my vocal mic was hanging too low. I should have taken the time to raise it to my mouth level. Anyway, it was mediocre playing and singing at best. But you know what...we DID IT! Had the guts to take the stage and put ourselves out there, taking musical risks with sensitive egos, fragile psyches.
When I returned home, I downloaded "Long Ride Home" and dropped the guitar tuning to DADGBD, capo fourth fret. I haven't played nor sang this song in two years. It was too painful for me to play Patty Griffin songs because it reminded me of the four times I rehearsed with Lauren, the song bird. A person blessed with a naturally talented voice. But for some reason, could not bring herself to sing in public without monetary compensation. I would have been content rehearsing at Lauren's house, making the 60 mile roundtrip to rehearse. What I wasn't content with could not be vocalized/shared too easily. The feeling of being marginalized, discounted as a musician, performer. Why couldn't she have taken the direct approach and simply stated I wasn't at the vocal caliber she needed in a collaborative endeavor. I would have been content to play instrument accompaniment only. My years of playing guitar could not be overlooked. She was a beginner guitar player herself. Perhaps having friends and family musicians made her less appreciative of the hard work and effort it takes to play at a semi-professional level in public.
The point I'm making here is Lauren served as a catalyst for making me want to go on stage again. I'm currently working with a group of musicians in a newly formed band. We have a talented, alto singer. And we are playing a blues song I wrote six or seven years ago. I could not have picked a better singer for this song. We're going to perform together at the next open mic in January 2007. Most people want to be in a band, attempt to be a singer, or famous actor/actress. Few make it big. But don't discount those of us caught somewhere in the middle. Something deep inside us demands to create and be a part of something bigger than ourselves. It's that simple. I hope Lauren finds her voice again and works up the courage to share her gift in public, with or without compensation. I sensed a protective wall surrounding her personna. Perhaps fear of failure, rejection keeps her from performing. Or the opposite is true. Her ego has grown gigantic enormous and she is beyond the rudimentary open mic sessions, coffee house gigs unless they pay her bills. Only God/dess knows the truth of the matter. I sent Lauren a musical singing, digital greeting card on Thanksgiving. I know she opened the card. But no written, email response. Not that I was expecting any from her. It was my way of remembering the rehearsal sessions at her house. Of acknowledging her positive influence on my music and willingness to try again. My next solo performance will be "Long Ride Home". I have come full circle in accepting my humble, musical gifts and many limitations. I'm not forgetting those who helped me along life's journey getting here, somewhere between fame and mediocrity.
