(a memorial of sorts)

Bring the body down
Bring the body down
Science demands a last exam
The eyes, the hair, the face
This alien DNA never seen before
And never seen again
Bring the body

Bring the body down
Bring the body down
The subjects request a final performance
Look to the stars above
This vessel once filled with light and love
now cracked and spilled and pouring out
in a beautiful flood

The time at hand, the preparations
The coffin built to specification
Periodically blooms in transformation
Light the fires, begin the devotions
This thing once boldly set in to motion
It will not end, it will not end

Bring the body down
I can see through this disguise
Your facets and graces still intact
Here beneath the death mask
Shimmering layers peeling back
Who are you now?

And you were never more than this to me
(bring the body)
And you were never more than this to me
(bring the body)
And you were ever more than this to me
(bring the body)
And you were ever more than this to me

IMG_4100A clear night

But street lights outshine the stars up there.

And who knew Venus has phases

Just like the moon?

The boy asleep on the backseat,

I close the car door quietly.

We’re coming home without you.

The work week

And trash night,

I think about all the fights

We’ve ever had-

“Who’s in charge here, me or you?”

But for once we just might agree

It’s not your or me.

Not when we’re coming home without you.

What a mess we must look like

From the outside.

You show up larger than life

And me, always trying to hide.

But I could bring you to your knees

And you wouldn’t resist,

Or so I’d like to believe.

That’s when it feels dangerous.

Makes me think I should leave.

But I’m never sure when to run.

And tonight there’s no one here to run from.

A clear night

But street lights outshine the stars up there.

And who knew Venus has phases

Just like the moon?

We do

Because we’ve been through

So many phases

Still I never thought I’d be

Coming home without you

~Paula Sutor, 2005

Summer is now almost over, at least as far as my children are concerned.  My oldest begins 10th grade on Monday, August 17th, while my youngest will be stuck hanging around the house with  me until August, 26th.   I am loath to use the word “epic”, but epic is the only way to describe my summer.    From a really fabulous show at Winter’s Tavern with Debora Iyall and Girls with Guns, to a month-long vacation in Europe, it’s really been a once in a life time kind of summer and I feel so amazingly grateful and blessed to have experience it.

While I will not bore you with my vacation photos, I will give you a quick excerpt from my journal.  Now I must warn you that while traveling through Europe I read Keith Richard’s autobiography Life, and as I tend to take on the voice of the book I am reading, this excerpt is written in the style of – well, Keith Richards.  So here is a bit of my summer vacation retold to you as filtered through the literary work of Keith Richards:


In which my family and I take a trip through Europe,  Hunter Something requests a great deal of sweets, and Fat Daddy seeks out only the best.

There were the four of us then: Zed, Fat Daddy, myself and Hunter Something, Hunter S. for short.  Hunter S. was a complete snack-head at the time, couldn’t go more than a few hours without a hit, even though we kept trying to get him to take to regular meals.  It was the sugar.  He’d go completely bonkers for it.  We tried to keep the whole thing under wraps.  No meat, dairy, or any opened foods when crossing borders, but the tour bus rides were long and we learned to put the choco granola bars at the bottom of our bags just to get past customs.

Fat Daddy was useful for keeping him in check too; he was good at playing the heavy, so to speak.  Fat Daddy had his own taste in sweets, much more refined than any of ours at the time.  He was used to the creme de la creme of dessert and wasn’t settling for the likes of what you get off of your typical food trolley.  Of course we made it through London just fine with the sticky toffee and Amsterdam with its stroopwafel  worked out quite well.  But we got a bad batch of marzipan in Estonia and that took a couple of days to shake off . . .


Estonian marzipan – purely decorative.

Enjoy the rest of your summer.  I leave you with a couple of videos of my band at Winter’s Tavern.


Tree Fort

It’s Sunday morning around 3 AM. I’m sitting on the couch at a friend’s house, savoring the last beer of the evening,  still glowing from the show my band played at a local bar just five hours prior. My friends and I may be middle-aged but we are giggling like school girls. Our kids are elsewhere, sleeping and safe, and we are talking about everything . . . movies, men, our mothers, life. I know I will pay dearly for this venture into the youthful territory of pre-dawn revelry –particularly in a few hours when my family will look to me to be the functional, dependable mother and wife who will make breakfast, but for now I feel like a teenager.   The deep, intense friendship we are enacting, the underlying sense of possibility that permeates the night all takes me back to the summer after high school graduation when the future was unknowable, but the mystery seemed overwhelmingly in my favor. Good things have happened and therefore more good things could happen. Summer has just begun. “The future’s open wide.”

It’s Wednesday afternoon around 3 PM. I’m standing in a darkened room next to the bed of a dying woman. We have known each other for ten years. She is the mother of my oldest son’s one-time best friend. Together we have endured and enjoyed countless play dates, some which ended well and some which ended in tears (the children’s, not ours). The friendship between our sons fizzled out a few years back, but she and her family have remained regular attendees at our New Year’s Eve parties, including this past New Year’s Eve when she shuffled into my kitchen, thin and frail, to take her usual place the table with all my friends. Her presence made the party feel complete. But now she turns her head towards me, her eyes flutter open and fix upon me for a moment before looking away. We know each other well enough for her to say, with the most emphasis she can muster, “This sucks!” Already she is tired and drifting off again and we have run out of things to say. “Take care,” I tell her, “I’ll catch you later.”

It’s Thursday morning around 4 AM. I’m sitting on the couch in my living room. My youngest son has a headache and a fever of 104.6. My husband is rocking him in the recliner. I have administered Tylenol and placed a cold pack on his forehead. We have been fighting this fever since the early evening. The advice nurse told me everything is fine as long as it stays below 105 degrees. I’m worried – not really worried, but still worried. Life takes detours; one moment changes everything. What comes next remains unknowable. You hear stories all the time.

It’s Thursday morning around 10 AM. My son’s fever is down, not gone, but back to around 100. He’s feeling better and acting more like himself.

It’s absolutely gorgeous outside, an anomalous warm and sunny day for our coastal Northern California town. I step out on the deck and feel the warmth rise up from the sun-heated boards. There’s not a hint of cold, even the icy sea breeze that often threads itself through the usual spring-like temperatures of our climate is still.  Summer!

“Come outside,” I tell my son. “It’s beautiful out here.”

Still in his pajamas, he follows me across the deck to the weather-beaten settee and sits on my lap. Instinctively we both close our eyes and turn our faces towards the light.

“Sometimes,” I say, more to myself than to him, “all you have is the warmth of the sun on your face. And sometimes it’s enough.”

He lays his head on my shoulder.  I have not felt this content in days.


If you are in the San Francisco Bay Area and a fan of Romeo Void you should come out to Winter’s Tavern on June 20th to watch the incomparable Debora Iyall perform Romeo Void tunes as well as her beautiful solo work and a couple of surprise covers.  Also on the bill will be Shot in the Dark, my electro glam trio featuring Sunni McGarity on vocals and Falling Pauli Gray on guitar.  Girls with Guns finish up the night with super girl powered punk rock.  It’s a night of fierce female energy and firearms.  Don’t miss it!




Tomorrow night my electro-glam trio, Shot  in the Dark, opens for Elliot Schneider as he celebrates the release of his new CD Better a Fool Than AloofAlso on the bill is Luv Bomb. You can purchase your tickets here.