Take Me Down to Nevada City Where the Hotels are Old and the Drinks are Pretty (Cheap)

*Nevada City is . . .

A.)   Deceptively not in Nevada

B.)    California’s most well preserved Gold Rush Town

C.)    A little strange after dark

D.)   Where I found myself last Saturday night playing a gig with the Debora Iyall Band

E.)    All of the above

 

I love a good road trip, but I rarely take to the open road alone.  Still I found myself cruising down I-80 E towards Grass Valley with nothing but my keyboards and some new music this past Saturday afternoon, headed for a show with the Debora Iyall Band. While the keyboards didn’t do much more than occasionally rumble around in the back when I hit a rough patch of highway, the music turned out to be a great companion.  The road opened up to rolling, barren hills beneath an ultra-blue sky as lush as the  synth sounds on M83’s “Hurry Up We’re Dreaming”; the rustic countryside of Highway 49 provided both a compliment and stark contrast to plaintive vocals of EMA’s Grey Ship.  “When you see that ship, it is the ship you can see, when the grey ship calls it is calling for me.”

Pit stop on the road, and the end of the line for someone’s yellow plastic shades.

It was a good drive.

When I arrived in Nevada City I was  taken aback by the quaint nature of the town, but it soon lost its appeal .  Any meditative state the solitary drive had afforded me was quickly broken by the number of tourists darting in the path of my car as I crawled up and down the main street looking for Miner’s Foundry Cultural Center.

Cool stuff from Gold Rush Days

Thanks to bassist, Dave Wenger, I soon found the hall and a primo parking spot.

Dave Wenger, bassist extraordinaire!

We were there to play Nisenan Heritage Day, an event that celebrated the indigenous people of Nevada County.  The event included speakers, dancers and craftspeople.  Live music was an end-of-the-day cap off, so in the meantime I had a chance to walk around the downtown area and check out some cute jewelry shops as well as some historical artifacts in the town square.

Then I headed back to our makeshift green room and hung out with Debora until it was time to get on stage.

The stage at Miner’s Foundry is a good size and has hosted a wide range of musicians from Zepperella to The Dark Star Orchestra to Johnny Winter.  The sound was amazing, but leave it to me to be freaked out by the loudness of my own keyboards.  The set went off pretty well, but I had a couple of instances of stage fright where my mind drew a complete blank .  Still, the audience was appreciative.  Particularly a boy named Tyler who was dancing his heart out at the front of the stage and later made the effort to introduce himself to the band and offer us some chai tea.

We played two short sets and then it was time to pull it all down and turn things over to Shelly Covert & UnderCover, an amazing cover band that sent most of us back to our formative years with tunes from Heart,  REM and Georgia Satellites.

However, I was pretty hungry at that point, and since my fellow band mates had already wandered off on the quest for dinner, I took a late night stroll through Nevada City after dark.

Nevada City was a pioneer town and it has held on to the identity, if only for the sake of the tourist trade.  At night its quaintness take on an eerie quality, which was accentuated by a man in a black cape and top hat leading a crowd through the streets and telling stories of ghosts.  Certain alleyways were completely deserted, while other areas bustled with life; young people crowded around open storefronts like moths flocking to a flame.

One thing that has most definitely changed since the Gold Rush days are the prices.  I had a hard time finding a decent place that wasn’t in the $20 and up entrée price range.  I finally settled on Lefty’s Grill and had a yummy flatbread pizza.

Back at Miner’s Foundry Cultural Center, Shelly Covert, who has a phenomenal set of pipes, was heating the place up pretty good, but my band mates and I decided it was time to head out to our hotel, the Northern Queen.

Our drummer joked that we could trash the place as all true and good rock stars do.  I thought perhaps, since this was our first time out doing such a thing, we could simply set our TV sets outside of our room doors, rather than throw them out the window.  It’s good to have a goal, but to break it into smaller steps.

We checked in without event and I was just about to settle in when I realized my leftover pizza was still in the car.  Who doesn’t love some good leftover pesto pizza around midnight or so?  On my way out to retrieve said pizza, I ran into Steve-the-Guitarist and Rob-the-Drummer who asked if I wanted to go back to town for a drink.   Now I’ve heard the sirens’ call many times (it usually sounds like my cell phone ringing and when I answer they say, “Hey, Paula, why not come on out to this big rock and get smashed.  It’s pretty cool. We think you’ll like it.”   They’re usually right.)  Going back into town at 11 PM “for a drink” was a bad idea, especially when I was hoping to get an early start home in the morning, so of course 15 minutes later my pizza was safely in my room fridge, and I was driving back into Nevada City.

Rob-the-Drummer

First we hit the saloon at The National Hotel. It’s the oldest bar in Nevada City and supposedly haunted.  It was full of the spirit of karaoke when we arrived, as evidenced by a young man doing his best at Train’s “Meet Virginia” while an older couple danced cheek to cheek like they were on the Lawrence Welk Show. Not long after that we found ourselves down the street at The Mine Shaft Saloon.

Steve-the-Guitarist

It was drinking as usual after that. Rob- the- drummer dropped a dime in the jukebox (okay, it probably was more than a dime) and put on some Hendrix , Rolling Stones and of course,“Never Say Never.”  A group of young’uns in spandex and big wigs kept us entertained for a good long while as they got progressively drunker.  Steve-the-guitarist questioned if we were in still in Nevada.  Shots of Patron and Jameson’s flowed freely , and the highlight of the evening for me (the designated driver who was not having shots of Patron) came when Rob-the-drummer passionately recounted the music video for Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself”.

When last call came we headed out but forgot to leash our drummer and he escaped to the bar across the street, The National Hotel Saloon, where he stayed for a good long while, supposedly ghost hunting.

I got to bed at 2 AM, woke up around 6:30 AM and was on the road by 7:30 AM.  Road trips alone aren’t so bad after all.

 

* The correct answer is E.

 

 

 

 

New Machinima: “Nothing Left to Say”

The heavy rains in my area have caused water to  seep into my studio/rehearsal space and I’ve had no choice but to tear down all my equipment and begin the process of ripping up the soaked carpet to see what’s going on and how it can be fixed.  This leaves me with nowhere to practice, and of course with my contrary nature, I want to practice now more than ever since it’s not an option.  I’ve even got new songs in my head dying to get out but they will have to wait.

In the meantime, I threw together this video in an effort to feel like I can still be creative.  I’m always torn about throwing things together.  Truth be told, I’m an idea person, but I’ve figured out that it’s the execution that counts.  Some people have a natural instinct for knowing when their work is polished; I remain a diamond in the rough and perhaps will always be just that.  This video is a perfect example of less than perfect pieces coming together to make . . . less than perfect art from a less than perfect artist.

On a side note, I realized only after I made the video (filmed in Second Life) that my virtual self is hanging out in a virtual studio, perhaps of my subconscious longing to have my real studio back.

Enjoy!

Happy Holiday Malaise

It’s that time of year when I should be neglecting my blog because I’m so busy with the bustle of the holidays, but instead I’ve been fighting inertia.   I’m not sure if it’s the shorter days, or the anniversary of my mother’s passing four years ago, but  this holiday season has found me listless and unfocused.  Tasks I normally look forward too like decorating the house for Christmas, seemed overwhelming.  I managed to pull the boxes of decorations out one day, but then let them sit in the hallway for a week before I summoned the energy to actually open them and put things out.  My music practice space in the basement has become cold and unbearably dark as well, so I found myself avoiding it, even though I had an on-line show scheduled.  Mostly I’ve been wanting to curl up and sleep.  This is not really a viable plan when you have kids.

So I started doing some research on ways to combat winter depression.  Here are some of the tips I found:

-  Eat lots of fruits and vegetables:  The vitamins will give your immune system a boost and the carbs will give you energy. Bananas are particularly good because of the fiber content and they contain dopamine,  a hormone that improves your mood.

- Get some light: Sunlight helps our bodies produce vitamin D and serotonin, a neurotransmitter that helps regulate the  central nervous system and digestive tract and is thought to contribute to a feeling of general well being.  Because of the shorter days,   some people benefit from daylight lamps to get the light their bodies need.

- Exercise:  Any kind of exercise can lift your mood, but yoga in particular has some moves that target the pineal gland which helps regulate the production of melatonin, yet another hormone  that helps balance the mood by keeping the body’s sleep-wake cycle in check. A quick side note here,  I found a yoga program on Netflix’s streaming library that targets depression.  This was ideal since I did not have to leave the house for a class;  the idea of leaving the house seemed exhausting. However, yoga can be difficult to do properly from just an instructional video, so use your best judgment.

All of these tips are good, and other than the daylight lamp, are things everyone should do to stay happy and healthy.  I have a few more personal tips that may be helpful to others as well.

- Music: My safest drug of choice, music is the ultimate mood-altering substance for me.  Upbeat music made me feel angry, and Christmas music made me feel even more depressed, so I tried some ambient electronica/chillout music. I recommend Soma FM’s Groove Salad should you need some mood boosting grooves to pull you out of the doldrums.

-  Wallow in your depression creatively:  Make something.  Make something dark.  Use your depression as the ultimate shield against disappointment.  You expect nothing, so anything you create will be better than expected.  Oddly enough, this philosophy works well for me in times like this.   This is what I came up with.  Certainly not my best work (I hope) but it made me feel like I accomplished something and also conveys my feelings right about now.  For the record,  the music was recorded many years ago,  I only put video to it.

- Engage others in an activity, if only electronically:In the thick of my listlessness, I didn’t want to chat with anyone in person or even in real time online.  It all required too much effort.  My husband, never shy about commandeering my iPhone, downloaded Words with Friends without my consent and then challenged me to a game.  For the most part I hate games, but I’m a sucker for word games.  I reluctantly gave it a try.  The back and forth and the need to re-engage my brain actually drew me in and in doing so, pulled me out of my mood.  Plus, I couldn’t help but feel pretty good about myself when I scored 60 points for the word “hamlet”.

I will say I’m feeling much better these past few days and am now looking forward to Christmas.  More so, I’m looking forward to getting past the whole holiday hoopla, so I can move on to 2012.  In the meantime, have yourself a Merry Little Christmas!

El Rio Show, Oct 4th 2011 – Pics and Video

Thanks to everyone who came out to the show on Tuesday, October 4th!   It was a completely enjoyable evening, having the chance to play some music, spend some time with friends and make a few new ones.

Picture courtesy of Gina Montel

 

Picture courtesy of Damaris Whitfield

 

Picture courtesy of Gina Montel

 

The Past 72 Hours . . .

In the past 72 hours I have:

- Donated supplies to the Occupy San Franciso base camp.

- Eaten wasabi coated roasted seaweed. Yum!

- Been amazed at how well my 4 yr old can swing on his own.

- Completed 7 videos to accompany my live performance at El Rio on Tuesday October, 4th (7 pm sharp, in case you are wondering).

- Engaged in melee combat with 4 other fighters, all of us armed with bokkens.  I was defeated in every single round.

- Completed many loads of laundry and dishes.

- Practiced music for my El Rio show and also the show I will be playing in Second Life tomorrow afternoon.

- Promised my 11 yr old that this afternoon when he gets home from school I will play the level of VVVVVV he created.

- Hiked up Mori Point and marveled at the color of the ocean.

- Read about an Oklahoma woman, a mother to 11 children, who is now attending  Harvard and thought to myself, “I should be doing more.”

In an alternate universe . . .

In an alternate universe Amy Winehouse is still alive.  She is married with two children and works as a file clerk for an accounting firm.  She once got a bit tipsy at the company Christmas party and when it was time for the Christmas Carol sing-along, she began belting out carols in a big, sultry voice that both shocked and amazed her co-workers.  The next day she was politely complimented on her singing voice by her boss.  Embarrassed, she resolved to never get tipsy again, and only drinks once a year on New Years Eve, but never to excess.  She sings to her children, but is too self-conscious about her voice to sing in front of others.   Her children and her husband are the center of her universe and she is very happy.

I swear this was meant as a tribute. I draw like a promising 7th grader.

August (and everything after)

I spent yesterday trying to dig up all the weeds from a patch of ground in my backyard where I have unsuccessfully attempted to grow a garden.  Currently there are two zucchini plants there which have bloomed and bloomed all summer  but have yet to produce a single zucchini, and then a rather sprawling poppy plant.  I have promised myself that next year-next year – there will be a glorious bed of  flowers surrounding a small plot of vegetables, perhaps sweet peas, pumpkins and beets.  It will be beautiful and fragrant and buzzing with bees. (My kids hate bees.  Maybe I’ll rethink the flowers.)

This morning  I woke up a little sore from all that weeding. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at my computer, just like every morning,  to check in with all the online things I have that need tending – e-mails, social network connections, etc.  I am so much more attentive to these things.  Sometimes I feel too attentive to my online life, too plugged in to my computer, and too attached to technology in general.

I have a small list of life skills that I wish I’d learned better when I was young – sewing, cooking, gardening.  I avoided those things back then because they seemed the height of domesticity, and I of course was going to be a rock star.  I now appreciate how those things add value to my family’s life, particularly cooking and gardening.  Good food is very important and I’m increasingly more cautious of the food available in restaurants and grocery stores.  

I also love how tactile those activities are.  So many different textures are involved with weeding, or cooking, or creating something with cloth or yarn.  Technology makes everything smooth – the keys on my laptop, the roller ball on my mouse, even the keys on my synthesizer and the buttons on my sampler are smooth, almost bland. I sometimes wonder if it’s not making my life similar – smooth, bland. 

 As we move into August, the final summer month, I want to spend less time at my computer and more time outside preparing my fledgling garden or just running around with my kids.  I want to make healthy, yummy food for my family and decorate my house to match the changing seasons. 

I’ll still be doing music of course.  I have shows coming up in October and November.  Those months seems far away right now, but after the upcoming family vacation we have planned, it will be  time for the kids to go back to school and then the days will do that crazy, runaway train thing that happens at the end of each year,  like a rush to the downhill finish of  Christmas.   

How about you?  Do you every feel too plugged in?  Do certain times of the year make you more aware of your time spent working online versus working in the real world?   I’d love to hear about it.

“Fulcrum” – Performed Live at my CD Release Party

My mother died 4 months after my second son was born.  The last time I had  a coherent conversation with her was on the phone in my hospital room, letting her know she had a second grandson.  The woman I spoke with after that was no longer in touch with reality. When the time came,  my nearly newborn son and I flew across the country to sit with my dying mother for ten days in a nursing home. There I watched her fade  from this world while  my son become more aware.  It was the powerful balance of life and death unfolding before me, and I tried to attend to the needs of each.    This song is about that time.

I performed it at my CD release party and it was hard singing something so personal in front of a large crowd of friends who were having a good time.  Still, I would like to share it here.

 

Oh the tender time has come

The moment soft and open

Now the ebb and now the flow

Once the weight, but now the fulcrum

Oh the tender time is done

It is the mystery that we’ve been given

Soft then harsh, soft then gone

Our bodies pull to the rhythm

Oh the tender time has come

Cocoon and butterfly

Here for the first time and the last time

Take my hand before you fly

And we are birthing the soul from the body

And we are birthing the child from the mother

And we are birthing the soul from the body

And we are birthing the mother from the child

And we are birthing the soul from the body

And we are birthing the child from the mother

And we are birthing the soul from the body

And we are birthing the mother from the child

The mother from the child

 

 

For Every Action . . .

I often find I get the most work accomplished by setting out to do a task and, in avoidance of it,  I end up doing another task I have put off.  For instance, I seem to have written and recorded a lot of music because I really needed to clean my house.   Even  back when I was in college I found the best time for working on a long, involved term paper was when I was sitting in a lecture on another subject.   In short, if you put me in a situation that requires me to do activity A, I will inevitably find a way to do activity B.

 

 And so now I have finished my CD and I have a long list of plans designed to promote it.  This in and of itself is a slippery slope, because Rational Me keeps telling myself, “You’ve reached your goal.  Anything that happens after this is icing on the cake. But recognize that it’s an angel food cake – very light, a bit bland and probably no icing.”  But Fanciful Me says “You go, girl! Who knows what could happen.  Keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars!” (Fanciful Me is hoping to receive a cease and desist from Casey Kasem because any publicity is good publicity).

 In addition to promoting my CD, I’ve got lots of practicing to do for my CD release show (I’m playing not just my solo stuff, but also a set with The Little Things and then again with Falling Pauli), and I’m also doing some shows in Second Life on July 18^th and a large festival on July 24^th.  The Second Life shows require a whole different set of material and performance style.  After adding it all up, I need to practice 90 minutes of music at a shot to stay on top of the game until the 24^th.   Suddenly my music is becoming . . . work with commitments and responsibilities. I feel the push and I start to feel pushed away.  It’s almost like Newton’s third law of motion played out emotionally. 

 So naturally all I want to do now is play with my kids and keep the house tidy.  Not just serviceable tidy,   we’re talking reorganizing closets and cupboards, updating my towels and sheets to match the new colors of my freshly painted bedroom and bathroom,  washing my car and cleaning out the inside with a vacuum and cloth.  Who knows, maybe I’ll even make an angel food cake with a light glaze, and eat it too.

Mmmmmm, cake!

A Straight Mom’s Guide to San Francisco on Gay Pride Weekend 2011

Back when I lived in the city proper, Gay Pride weekend meant that most of my friends were having parties and celebrating.  I was often the token straight girl in the crowd and I loved going along for the ride.  I vowed that should I ever become  a mother I would bring my kids to the parade and be completely open with them about all kinds of love and relationships.  And should any of my children one day be part of the LGBT community, I would be totally cool with that. 

Then Z came along and my husband and I moved out of the city to the suburbs where the streets were safer and the schools were better.  Z turned out to be the kind of kid who doesn’t deal well with crowds, and so the Pride Parade has never felt like a good idea as a family outing.  In fact, I don’t think he’s ever been to a parade of any kind.  

Sometimes I will casually mention to Z that this person and that person are not just friends, but are in love, like his dad and I.  This boggles Z’s mind as the heterosexual couple is the norm in our society even in the bay area.  Z knows these people; these are our friends who come to our family gatherings,  and friends who have babysat Z and his brother.  I realize that there’s no need to force the issue or make him uncomfortable,  so I’ve been trying to figure out what I do want him to know at this point.  Kids at school calling other kids gay as a derogatory term – not  okay in my book.  Realizing that some of our close friends are not married because they can’t legally be married – that’s discrimination and it’s something to fight against.  I’m not sure if there’s more for him to understand at this point.  I am considering taking him to the Dyke March on Saturday in Dolores Park.  We would be going with another family and hopefully have a fun afternoon.

So what am I doing on Pride Weekend?  Glad you asked.

Starting tomorrow night, Friday, June 24th, I’m playing a half hour set at The Brainwash Cafe with The Passion Kings.  I go on around 9:00 pm and I’ll be debuting some new material, so stop by if you get a chance.

On Saturday I may be taking my kids to the Dyke March as I’ve already mentioned.   And then in the evening I’m taking part in a music salon organized by my fabulous vocal teacher, Karina Denike.  This event starts at 6:30 PM and is held at a private live/work space, but if you’re in the area and interested in attending e-mail me and I’ll give you details.  paula@phaseslikethemoon.com

Sunday is the Pride Parade.  It kicks off at 10:30 AM from Market and Beale St.  I don’t think I’ll be making it out to the parade, but I highly recommend it to anyone who has never experienced it before.  It’s a wonderful event and Chaz Bono and Olympia Dukakis are Grand Marshals this year, so you should check it out!