tag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:/blogs/latest-news?p=89Latest News2019-01-25T10:03:39-07:00Cristina Williamsfalsetag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/54809482018-10-22T15:03:41-07:002022-05-10T22:45:43-07:00bring back the jam<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/267a0dd5829fd6700212f6f9bee2825eb7953451/original/520740711-d4e9811950-o.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>I was reading a recent post by Austin Kleon, <a contents="in praise of mediocrity" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com/2018/10/12/in-praise-of-mediocrity/">in praise of mediocrity</a>, when I felt a chord struck hard, deep inside. He was quoting author Tim Wu who was bemoaning the lack of hobbies in modern times due to our dogged pursuit of excellence and how "It steals from us one of life’s greatest rewards — the simple pleasure of doing something you merely, but truly, enjoy." Which is something Jamie and I talk about a lot. People just don't seem to want to jam anymore.</p>
<p>I grew up in northeast Florida in the 70's - not exactly the mecca of arts and culture. But all of my memories of parties and barbecues included people whipping out guitars or some other portable, relatively simple instrument and joining together in an enthusiastic - if perhaps not <em>quite</em> technically proficient - rendering of a song that we all knew. Usually a few Beatles tune made an appearance. I was young and fumbling, trying to keep up with new chord changes and rhythmic patterns but, really, nobody cared. All that mattered was that we played together and it was fun. Which was an extension of the time people spent in the privacy of their own homes, noodling around and figuring out their favorite songs after work just for the joy of playing. Nobody was trying to be a rock star or go on American Idol. It was just...fun.</p>
<p>But these days, so many people who used to pick up an instrument out of love when they were younger stay far away from it. They're not good enough, they're not trying to be professional musicians, so why bother? And even some of our friends who are musicians and gig out regularly are kinda reluctant to just jam on the spur of the moment. Because they're afraid they'll make a mistake. Because it won't be as good as an episode of Austin City Limits.</p>
<p>It's so sad. Generating music is one of our birthrights as human beings, one of our most fundamental ways of communicating as a group. Society makes us think that only the special, the Talented, the paid should get to sing. And that is bullshit.</p>
<p>We should all be singing like birds. And if we think we're alone and nobody's listening, we just <em>might</em> do that. But we also need to sing and play TOGETHER. To communicate, share, vent. In harmony, through call and response, around the campfire, while we march or during church, we need to raise our voices in music. And it doesn't matter if a note breaks or we have a very loose relationship with key, who cares? We just need to get together every now and then and become one big, shambolic, lovely instrument. </p>
<p>I just saw <a contents="An Evening with Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://amandapalmer.net/music/an-evening-with-neil-gaiman-and-amanda-palmer/">An Evening with Amanda Palmer and Neil Gaiman</a> (which doesn't happen often as a live show but if you ever get a chance - GO!) and that is definitely one of Amanda's exhortations - many of her songs are pleas to stop worrying about your imperfections, let your freak flag fly and that we all are called to sing..or play your ukelele (that most entry-level "painfully simple" gateway drug to stringed instruments).</p>
<p>So I'll leave you with her anthem and my own wish that if there was ever anything you used to love doing that you stopped doing because it "wasn't good enough" - <strong>start doing it again!! And then do it with friends!!</strong></p>
<p>"So play your favorite Beatles' song <br>And make the subway fall in love <br>They're only $19.95, that's not a lot of money <br>Play until the sun comes up <br>And play until your fingers suffer <br>Play LCD Soundsystem songs on your ukulele <br>Quit the bitching on your blog <br>And stop pretending art is hard <br>Just limit yourself to three chords <br>And do not practice daily <br>You'll minimize some stranger's sadness <br>With a piece of wood and plastic <br>Holy fuck it's so fantastic, playing ukulele!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HpxlP8Cn8B8" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p>UKELELE ANTHEM</p>
<p>by Amanda Palmer</p>
<p>Sid vicious played a four-string fender bass guitar and couldn't sing <br>And everybody hated him except the ones who loved him <br>A ukulele has four strings, but Sid did not play ukulele <br>He did smack and probably killed his girlfriend Nancy Spungen </p>
<p>If only sid had had a ukulele, maybe he could have been happy <br>Maybe he would not have suffered such a sad end <br>He maybe would have not done all that heroin instead <br>He maybe would've sat around just singing nice songs to his girlfriend </p>
<p>So play your favorite cover song, especially if the words are wrong <br>'cos even if your grades are bad, it doesn't mean you're failing <br>Do your homework with a fork <br>And eat your fruit loops in the dark <br>And bring your etch-a-sketch to work <br>And play your ukulele </p>
<p>Ukulele small and forceful <br>Brave and peaceful <br>You can play the ukulele too it is painfully simple <br>Play your ukulele badly, play your ukulele loudly <br>Ukulele banish evil <br>Ukulele save the people <br>Ukulele gleaming golden on the top of every steeple </p>
<p>Lizzie Borden took an axe, and gave her father thirty whacks <br>Then gave her mother thirty-one, and left a tragic puzzle <br>If only they had given her an instrument, those Puritans <br>Had lost the plot completely <br>See what happens when you muzzle <br>A person's creativity <br>And do not let them sing and scream <br>And nowadays it's worse 'cause kids have automatic handguns <br>It takes about an hour to teach someone to play the ukulele <br>About same to teach someone to build a standard pipe bomb <br>YOU DO THE MATH </p>
<p>So play your favorite cover song <br>Especially if the words are wrong <br>'cos even if your grades are bad, it doesn't mean you're failing <br>Do your homework with a fork <br>And eat your fruit loops in the dark <br>And bring your flask of jack to work <br>And play your ukulele </p>
<p>Ukulele, thing of wonder <br>Ukulele, wand of thunder <br>You can play the ukulele, too <br>In London and down under <br>Play Joan Jett, and play Jacques Brel <br>And Eminem and Neutral Milk Hotel <br>The children crush the hatred <br>Play your ukulele naked <br>And if anybody tries to steal your ukulele, let them take it </p>
<p>Imagine there's no music, imagine there are no songs <br>Imagine that John Lennon wasn't shot in front of his apartment <br>Imagine if John Lennon had composed "imagine" on the ukulele <br>Maybe folks would have more clearly got the message </p>
<p>You may think my approach is simple-minded and naïve <br>Like if you want to save the world then why not quit and feed the hungry <br>But people for millennia have needed music to survive <br>And that's why I've promised John that i will not feel guilty </p>
<p>So play your favorite Beatles' song <br>And make the subway fall in love <br>They're only $19.95, that's not a lot of money <br>Play until the sun comes up <br>And play until your fingers suffer <br>Play LCD Soundsystem songs on your ukulele <br>Quit the bitching on your blog <br>And stop pretending art is hard <br>Just limit yourself to three chords <br>And do not practice daily <br>You'll minimize some stranger's sadness <br>With a piece of wood and plastic <br>Holy fuck it's so fantastic, playing ukulele </p>
<p>Eat your homework with a fork <br>And do your fruit loops in the dark <br>Bring your etch-a-sketch to work <br>Your flask of jack <br>Your vibrator <br>Your fear of heights <br>Your Nikon lens <br>Your mom and dad <br>Your disco stick <br>Your soundtrack from "Karate Kid" <br>Your ginsu knives <br>Your rosary <br>Your new Rebecca Black CD <br>Your favorite room <br>Your bowie knife <br>Your stuffed giraffe <br>Your new glass eye <br>Your sousaphone <br>Your breakfast tea <br>Your nick drake tapes <br>Your Giving Tree <br>Your ice cream truck <br>Your missing wife <br>Your will to live <br>Your urge to cry <br>Remember we're all going to die <br>So PLAY YOUR UKULELE</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Photo by <a contents="TCDAVIS" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/tcd123/">TCDavis</a></em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/54711502018-10-16T09:47:37-07:002018-10-16T09:47:37-07:00takeaways from 1RiffADay<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/8d3efa843aee3c3e464bbf9756490590df5790f0/original/1riffaday-gram.png/!!/b:W10=.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>September 30th was the last day of a thirty day challenge called 1 Riff a Day (or #1RAD) sponsored by <a contents="She Shreds magazine" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://sheshredsmag.com">She Shreds magazine</a>. The challenge is simple - just post one "riff" - on acoustic guitar, electric guitar, bass, or just scat something vocally, it don't matter. The gender wasn't specified, but as it’s a mag about and for female guitar and bass players, those were the dominant participants.</p>
<p>For some reason, I felt a giant YES bubble up and out when I first read about it, right at the end of August. I’m still not quite sure why. It’s not like I’m looking for more things to put on my plate. It’s not like there isn’t already a lot of music in my life. And it’s definitely not like I enjoy making videos of myself AND posting them to the public without having time to make things perfect or even make sure I look “presentable" half the time. But I felt the call to join and I went for it. </p>
<p>I’m really glad I did! </p>
<p>With all the bemoaning of the evils of social media, it’s a very different beast for me. I’m shy. My natural inclination is to dodge the spotlight if it’s just about me. If I’m in a play or a collaboration, I’m all up for it and ready to go. But something about putting _myself_ out there out of my own choice makes me feel squirmy.</p>
<p>I’m also not someone who’s comfortable communicating quickly. It usually takes me a while to figure out the right words that express what I really mean - especially in writing - and yeah, I guess I’m a bit of a perfectionist. A LOT of a perfectionist. Which again is why I don’t know why I wanted to do this. There wasn’t <em>time</em> for perfection between the duties of my day job, Silver Cloud Express rehearsals and gigs and other music projects and everything else that makes up a life.</p>
<p>And it turns out nobody cared.</p>
<p>I started learning that people appreciate and connect more with what’s human rather than what’s perfect. And though I still want to publish things that are Excellent - I’m now more willing to also publish (though less formally) expressions of myself that are True even if a little rough around the edges. And people did seem to like it - I even got <a contents="featured a few times " data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://sheshredsmag.com/1riffaday-week-3/">featured a couple of times </a>on the She Shreds riffaday weekly roundups!</p>
<p>Other observations: </p>
<ul> <li> <p>There are SO many awesome guitar and bass players around the world who happen to be women! Nowadays that's not so unusual, but it was still wonderful to see and hear other women playing day after day. I was totally inspired by some major badasses like <a contents="@joany_cat_guitar" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/joany_cat_guitar">@joany_cat_guitar</a>, <a contents="@umemusic" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/umemusic">@umemusic</a>, <a contents="@maria_pien" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/maria_pien">@maria_pien</a>, <a contents="@alexandymann" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/alexandymann">@alexandymann</a>, <a contents="@m_agdalenaaa" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/m_agdalenaaa">@m_agdalenaaa</a>, <a contents="@savoirfairemusic" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/savoirfairemusic">@savoirfairemusic</a>, and so so many much more!</p> </li> <li> <p>I really don’t have 30 different shirts : ) </p> </li> <li> <p>Filters are Good! They can really help smooth things out when you have no makeup - or are still wearing smudges of last night’s makeup - and you're over a certain age. (Speaking of which, I'm pretty sure I was the oldest shredder on IG - but that's another topic for another day!)</p> </li> <li> <p>It felt good to hit Share on my Instagram every day and realize I had just published some music out into the world, even if it's only 15-30 seconds worth.</p> </li> <li> <p>It also felt terrifying with lots of negative thoughts swirling through my mind "ugh, but what if it’s boring?" "what if it’s unconscious plagiarism?" "what if the people think it's lame?) and then the world would keep turning anyway. </p> </li> <li> <p>It wasn’t terrible to post myself doing something every day. I don’t want to do it moving forward - every week or so would be cool - but so many people would casually mention how much they liked my “little videos” and it totally helped me reframe the idea of sharing myself that way.</p> </li>
</ul>
<p>Since then, I've started up a #1riffaweek challenge - a few other Shredsters are doing it to. Much more manageable and still makes me put myself out there on the regular.</p>
<p>Check out my riffs here!</p>
<p><a contents="@cristinaawilliams" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/cristinaawilliams/">https://www.instagram.com/cristinaawilliams/</a></p>
<p>And check out ALL the cool riffs here!</p>
<p><a contents="https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/1riffaday/" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/1riffaday/">https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/1riffaday/</a></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/54711512018-10-15T17:37:05-07:002018-10-15T17:37:05-07:00Bamboo and Roses (live demo)<p>By request (ie, various requests from Daddy every time I've called home over many months : ), I made a live video of me playing his song "Bamboo and Roses". I've had a long history with this song (<a contents="which you can read about here" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://cristinawilliams.com/blog/blog/bamboo-and-roses">which you can read about here</a>) but it never fails to give me a goosebumps when I play it. (Note, this is my natural habit: sitting on the floor, cross-legged on the yoga mat in my office/studio).</p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/02XGLJWlpUE?rel=0" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>Hope you like it!</p>
<p>xo</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/54336572018-09-18T14:58:52-07:002018-09-18T14:58:52-07:001 Riff a Day Challenge<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/8d3efa843aee3c3e464bbf9756490590df5790f0/original/1riffaday-gram.png/!!/b:W10=.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Ever since September 1st, I've been participating in one of those online "post-one-x-every-day-for-y-days" challenges on Instagram (@cristinaawilliams) and it's been absorbing the spare time I had been trying to set aside for blog writing (or writing or most any other creative endeavor in general).</p>
<p>It's the <a contents="1 Riff A Day" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://sheshredsmag.com/1riffaday-week-2-round-up/">1 Riff A Day</a> challenge started by <a contents="She Shreds magazine" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://sheshredsmag.com">She Shreds magazine</a>. And it's been an illuminating, encouraging and yes, challenging experience to say the least.</p>
<p>She Shreds Magazine (<a contents="http://sheshredsmag.com/" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://sheshredsmag.com">http://sheshredsmag.com/</a>) is an amazing resource for someone like me - a female guitarist and bass player - especially because it above all focuses on the music, the musicians and the gear. There's no cutesy-ness, not much pink or otherwise gender-specific touchstones except that it reminds us that there are LOTS of guitarists and bassists out there who happen to be women. The information about axes and pedals is spot on and the interviews (and gear list) of the artists and bands they spotlight is really inspiring. As social animals, it makes a huge difference to see yourself reflected in so many other people when you're just not used to it!</p>
<p>So when She Shred's instagram account posted about a September challenge of posting a short video of yourself playing a riff every day, I felt a big YES inside. Which is weird because the idea of videotaping myself every day is NOT appealing (even now after doing it for 17 days straight). I haven't vibed with the whole 'selfie' culture - it's just so... vulnerable. I'm not the kind of gal who likes to spiff up every day - basic hygiene is the most I strive for during the week - so the idea of revealing my less-than-perfect self to the instagram world every day gives me an uncomfortable wiggle in my stomach every time.</p>
<p>But this is a challenge - and a part of me strongly felt that I needed it.</p>
<p>So every day - working around my job-rehearsal-performance schedule - I work out a riff and post a video of it. It can be almost anything that fits between 15 seconds to a minute. It can be something you create that day (which is what I usually try to do), on almost any kind of instrument - though guitars and basses are the norm or it can be a cover, something you already wrote before - or with the modern onset of looping pedals and recording software - it can even be a compilation of sonic ayers that you build with different riffs (I've seen LOTS of cool examples of this!)</p>
<p>I've been recording an assortment of riffs on acoustic guitar, electric bass and electric guitar. The last has been really special for me because I realized I hadn't played electric guitar in YEARS! Since moving to bass in The Modeens back in our LA days, I just hadn't picked it back up. Jamie let me borrow one of his that I've coveted for a while - an Eastwood remake of an Airline Bighorn - which is soooo light and easy to play. I still have my Ampeg Junior Jet amp and dug out an old Overdrive/Distortion pedal Jamie had given me ages ago. My fingers feel like sausages on these thiiiiin strings (compared to bass or acoustic) but it felt SO good to feel the thrum of electricity on all six strings again.</p>
<p>And I've been surprising myself. Pushing myself to tap into some central source of creativity and share it with the world every day of the month. And each day has been a revelation. I always think of myself as a singer first, writer second. Playing an instrument has usually been for fun, to help the band, to support the song. But I don't really, <em>really</em> think of myself as a Musician. </p>
<p>But I do now. I'm not nearly as good as I wish I was and there's a lot more that I'd like to improve. But I'm finally owning to myself that I do have something to offer as a guitarist and bassist.</p>
<p>You can check out the snippets I've done so far here: </p>
<p><a contents="https://www.instagram.com/cristinaawilliams/" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.instagram.com/cristinaawilliams/">https://www.instagram.com/cristinaawilliams/</a></p>
<p>Just, please, don't mind the hair.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/54037192018-08-27T16:22:07-07:002018-08-27T16:22:07-07:00new bunny on the block<p>I've chronicled our urban wilderness experiences in our backyard a few times already. The front yard is a different experience altogether. We don't 'hang out' in the front yard (not many people do anymore - used to be folks would sit on their stoops or front porches, chit-chatting with the neighbors. But that is definitely not the norm in our neighborhood). So the main experience I have is through our big picture window in the living room, looking onto our twin Texas rangers on a little man-made hill.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/91d76bae31c5e8cd709a1935d97f63fbdc4aed69/original/img-4661.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Here's the little microcosm from the front of the house. My little exhibition window is on the other side.</em></p>
<p>Those big shaggy bushes not only provide great privacy for the window and at times a breathtaking view of lilac-covered blossoms, but also provide shelter and shade for some of our little front-yard tenants. There's the sparrows that love eating buds off of the branches, a family of quail the takes a break from their incessant scuttering around for a nice breather and one particular rabbit who's made a little hollowed indentation underneath one of the shrubs for her own little napping spot - perfectly camouflaged and cool - protected from sharp eyes of many a cat, coyote or owl.</p>
<p>And since this past spring, she's not alone. There's a new bunny on the block. He's half of the size of what I presume is his Mama. They seem to live in a hole underneath the prickly pear patch at the front of our yard (I'm constantly amazed at how they can scamper so quickly and easily through some serious thorns). Some mornings, if I rise early enough, after I raise the blinds and peek into the dusky new light of the morning, I'll be treated to the sight of his wee little body nudging by the cactus, with his stubby ears and his nose a'wrigglin looking for the tenderest shoots of stray grass among the gravel. </p>
<p>He (I'm just calling him a 'he' and naming him Peter for obvious and cliche'd reasons) seems to play with the birds. If there's a grackle or a sparrow hopping on the ground close to him, he'll start scampering in a figure 8, going close to them and then weaving back, nibble, nibble, figure 8 again. The birds don't quite know what to think of him and after all, they just flit off in the other direction. It is the CUTEST thing I've ever seen.</p>
<p>Almost</p>
<p>He's smoothed out his own indentation under some fountain grass - another protected spot - that happens to face the house. If it's really hot (ie over 100 degrees), they tend to go back into the their underground - much cooler - warren. But the other day it was just 95 (you'd think it was spring!) there he was in his little nap spot, dozing away. With his little ears laid back, doing that "warm classroom after lunch" thing where his eyelids start sinking lower, and lower, and lower. Then whoom, he wakes back up, somewhat. Soon he just gives up and stretches out along the dirt, lying on his side, his little nose in the air and mouth slightly agape. I would bet good money that's he's ever so softly snoring. Squee!</p>
<p>But I wouldn't know because I can't get close enough. If I walked out the door, he'd hop along - or whatever the fast version of hopping is - and disappear. If he even noticed me staring through the window he'd probably get the heeby-jeebies.</p>
<p>So I just sit tight, stay still. Try not to scare him. Or any of the other front yard denizens. It's their land as much as mine - I'm just a witness - a caged spectator while the rest of them live free in the middle of desert suburbia. And that's just fine by me.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/53785012018-08-07T17:18:46-07:002018-08-07T17:18:46-07:00always learning<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/a9bcbafcecf5585e03a2fcd144c6e165ee159387/original/img-4204-1.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>I'm playing at the <a contents="local CSA" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://tucsoncsa.org/" target="_blank">local CSA</a> again - every other Wednesday in exchange for the freshest veggies in town! - and I'm working out some fun covers to add to the mix. At a gig like this, it's not so much a listening room as background music. Yknow, folks are usually just coming in, grabbing their veggies and heading back out. So even though I get a good response from my own music, it's cool to break out a tune that makes them smile or get a twinkle in their eye.</p>
<p>At the mo' I'm working 'Kid' back up from an old Cover Up show the Modeens did covering The Pretenders. God I love this song! Ok, it may not be recognizable to everyone, but it'll make _me_ smile! Only this time I'm the only musician playing it. So the rhythm guitar has to do the whole job and filling in enough of the music so you still recognize and like the song - though I won't have Jamie's eloquently beautiful lead guitar. Still it's fun and it's making me learn, which is something I love.</p>
<p>So I'm going to use this biweekly gig to learn some interesting, off the beaten path kind of covers. Maybe some Elvis Costello (Watching the Detectives would be fun, Alison is so beautiful...) or maybe turn a song on its head (like playing a White Stripes or hey, Black Keys song all stripped down, low tempo and breathy). And a cool country classic wouldn't hurt (I've already got Jolene and bringing in Juice Newton's Sweetest Thing from the Sweethearts of the Rodeo show - but maybe some Patsy Cline). It really helps you keep from taking yourself too seriously - and learning a great song makes you a better songwriter and player, hands down!</p>
<p>There's definitely worse ways to <a contents="grow some new neural pathways" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2996135/" target="_blank">grow some new neural pathways</a>, amiright? And hey, you can use that ol' comment box down there and give me suggestions while you're at it! </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/46c103f0e2c32f6820784b15214d6d604afb880d/original/learning-spot.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>A break from learning to take an aerial shot of my prime learning spot.</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/52253962018-08-06T09:43:41-07:002018-08-06T09:43:41-07:00when the rain comes<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/18d31ea15c8eee22709fc1f9832e1702c8aab5bf/original/7922225238-2d3891b937-o.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>The longing had been building like those clouds on the horizon. A little insistent voice that drones constantly in the back of many Tusconan's minds like a snooze alarm on low: "When? When? When?" When will the rain come?</p>
<p>As is typical, we'd gone without the precious manna from heaven for over a 100 days by the time June rolled around and for weeks the weather was teasing us. Mounds of clouds piling onto each other, bright white on top, dusky gray below. The breeze steadily growing into gusts. Slight ozone tang in the air and you can almost hear the first splat of a drop on the ground. Then it all just dissolves into empty blue and you're left hanging, like a sneeze that never happens.</p>
<p>Then one day, you see the same signs, muttering to yourself "Don't get your hopes up." But _this_ time your ears notice a random cluster of soft beats on the concrete outside. Timpanis of little water splats - at first random and then getting faster and faster and more and more until you have a strong rolling rhythm of RAIN!</p>
<p>And then your whole body seems to let go of this tension you didn't even know you had - this city-wide sigh of relief.</p>
<p>Rain.</p>
<p>July had a nice amount of monsoon activity and it still seems to be rolling on through August. There was one particularly sweet weekend where the rain fell in a soft pitter patter for days - lulling us to sleep at night and gently waking us in the morning. The sky stayed a soft cottony gray and the leaves of the oleanders that line our backyard were swollen bright green with plant happiness. </p>
<p>But more often than not it's an Experience. Like when we went to see some friends play an outdoor show in south Tucson. We saw flashes of lightning on our way there but dismissed it - it wasn't supposed to rain that night. It was too hot to stay outside (still hovering around 100 by 9 o'clock) so we were battened down in the air conditioned interior waiting for the show to start. Then a crack of thunder out of nowhere stunned us into blank looks of surprise before the door opened as everyone else streamed inside, wet and laughing.</p>
<p>We watched the rain absolutely pour down through the windows as we listened to some raucous music. So cathartic! The temperatures dropped 20 degrees and it was a feeling of sweet relief/release in community. That was a pure Tucson moment. </p>
<p>And I'll keep sitting here, dreaming at the clouds starting to gather again on the horizon this morning. May they blossom and build until they fall back as the life that is water - just enough to keep us going a little longer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><a contents="Image by Erin" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/lance_mountain/" target="_blank"><em>Image by Erin</em></a></p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/53202542018-06-27T10:02:31-07:002018-06-27T10:07:50-07:00summer lilac explosion<p>That's what it looks like in the front yard right now. Two weeks ago we had our first rain in 100 days and it was drencher. Then this week, the two Texas Ranger shrubs (and their offspring) are exploding with little poofballs of lilac. The bees are going nuts!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/96c8691be0f11ae8d781fdaa77b74f66bb2f566b/original/img-4659.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>The scent is light but lovely. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/f24b3c76615154eee2c61ff815a676535de4037a/original/img-4660.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />These two giants are kinda overwhelming the front yard. But they screen a large bay window we have and give us a much better view than the street.</p>
<p>Here's a volunteer - haven't even been taking much care of it, but these critters are tough!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/870a0d01a05a5745441c3790a42f1d189009c0b8/original/img-4664.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />And then there's the baby I didn't even notice before!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/f535c2f1455252281c79d70d53b146543e3fbebe/original/img-4663.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />One of the things living in the desert teaches you is that life is tenacious. Life will find a way, often despite us humans' best (or more likely worst) efforts. And when the latest news makes you want to run under the nearest boulder and hide, instead I'll take a cue from the bees and bury myself in beauty instead.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/5d3f922fa8a77248647d5e742028485cfd626833/original/img-4667.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/f8af432b016b6f2243cb9c4bafccd4e164c4a67a/original/walker-bees.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Happy summer!</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/52253952018-06-20T09:35:19-07:002018-06-20T09:35:19-07:00lizard bunch update: the next generation!<p>Younger desert spiny's are coming into the fold now. Especially Micro, the littles one yet. Jamie is also a great documentarian of this lizard life happening in the suburbs of Tucson and captures the spirit of these unusually social reptiles (social for the purpose of getting juicy mealworms - but still!)</p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/65de1dd72eb3cb678240575c40f5ae3d2e6c5929/original/buddy.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Meet Buddy during mealtime</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/32d22e72a0338a356065108dc328e019dcb9903c/original/massi-micro.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />And here's little Micro while Massi sleeps, blissfully unaware...</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/d629f35bc20040896bb98af829ef069f7312776b/original/buddy-and-sandy.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Buddy and Sandy, they know where the good stuff is!</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/cb0fa2e53bdb49e3ae798a9050c010384aa8ef2c/original/hungry-harry.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />I have to ask Jamie which ones this is - I can't tell them apart as well as he can! but I think they're all saying the same thing!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/53045502018-06-19T09:33:21-07:002018-06-19T09:33:21-07:00unconscionable<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9d260d3048a7da3c085343a250d6739204e74644/original/broken-heart.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><span class="font_small">Credit: Piotr Krzeslak</span></em></p>
<p>I guess I normally keep this blog politics-neutral - though that is certainly not how I run my Facebook page. I like to keep the writing about music, philosophy, the desert and every now and then what I'm actually up to as an artist. I have no problem proclaiming myself a left-leaning progressive Democrat (surprise!) but it seems like everybody gets plenty of noise about our crazy political landscape as it is on their news media of choice.</p>
<p>But what's going on with families being separated due to new STUPID immigration policies is beyond the pale. If you read about this happening in another country - you would think 'how barbaric!' and feel all snug and content that you live in a "good" country. But when I find myself siding with Laura Bush, Dick Cheney and Bill O'Reilly on a topic - you KNOW this is BAD. It's hard to get behind the warehousing of children (even when their parents haven't even broken an actual immigration law). And how anybody can support this AT ALL much less actually defend it publicly is beyond me. </p>
<p>And you just feel like DOING something. So if you find yourself wondering how to help make this a tiny bit better for some of the families suffering under this insane regime, first of all REGISTER TO VOTE AND THEN ACTUALLY VOTE. Second, here's a good summary article about this whole mess and some great organizations helping fight it. With all the uproar on both sides of the aisle, I can't imagine it standing for long. But every minute a young child is separated from their family and stranded with no care is a minute too long.</p>
<p><a contents="https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2018/06/how-you-can-fight-family-separation-at-the-border.html" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2018/06/how-you-can-fight-family-separation-at-the-border.html" target="_self">https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2018/06/how-you-can-fight-family-separation-at-the-border.html</a></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/52918522018-06-18T10:03:27-07:002018-06-18T10:03:27-07:00the yardbirds<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/42238d4fc2d0161f45b986e43a6a104e7f0eeb24/original/yardbirds-2016a.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>The lights went down at the Rialto Theater, the universal signal that the show was about to start. Applause erupted, the audience was ready to go. Then a hush fell on the darkened stage as five shadowy figures darted out under the half-lowered, colored lights. Three plugged in cables to various guitars, one picked up and cradled a small object in his hands, cupped towards his mouth. A final climbed up on the riser at the back of the stage, taking his place behind a low forest of drums and stands.</p>
<p>A disembodied voice called out "Ladies and gentlemen, here are Five Live Yardbirds!" and the applause roared again as the lead guitar wailed out the sinuous riff going into "Heart Full of Soul". And for an hour and a half, these five musicians resurrected some fine rock n roll.</p>
<p>Leading up to this show last week, I was shocked to realize that not many of our friends seemed to take notice of the band. In the wake of their peers like The Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who, even the Kinks, this member of the British Invasion hadn't been as much of a "household name". I remembered them from Daddy's records, played repeatedly through my childhood. There was something different about them that made me take notice even back then. Their music was rockin' and had a foundation in blues rock like many others of the time. But there was a primitive precision to it. Stops and starts, time and tempo changes, and a landscape of songwriting that could mellow you out into sweet bliss or rile you up like a teenager on bennies. Their songwriting heavily featured social themes of the time that still resonate strongly now (one of the best examples being <em>Better Man Than I</em>). I still vividly remember their scene in <em>Blow Up</em> that pre-dated the Who's destructive tendencies and left me slack-jawed with their intensity.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9810c20e936e59598adcc007fbd6964da5f8199c/original/yardbirds-then.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Now, thirty some-odd years later, it's not the same band. The only original player is the drummer, Jim McCarty - still holding it down solid at the age of 75. And interestingly, he was also one of the major songwriters in the group. The rest of the band are relatively new but each bring their own chapter of rock as some of the great sidemen of our time.</p>
<p>Johnny A. on lead guitar - WOW - what a revelation. He could do anything on six strings. Following Jeff Beck is no mean feat - but Jamie and I both thought Johnny may have been a bit better, giving the classic licks a modern edge with a slight sparkle of metal guitar. Bassist Kenny Aaronson - another journeyman who played with Billy Idol, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts and more - no longer sports his signature pompadour. But he is still a mean player riding that bass like a runaway horse and then riling up the audience to yell for more. </p>
<p>The singer John Idan was perfect - so cool and understated, not over singing or over playing but still in control of the crowd with power and charisma. He also played a ferocious rhythm guitar and became the perfect blend of Keith Relf and Chris Dreja.</p>
<p>And let's not forget Myke Scavone - originally of Jersey band The Doughboys - on percussion and harmonica. Though the original lineup didn't have this kind of player (singer Keith played harmonica), Scavone growled on that harp in a way that held its own with the guitars. That cat could blow!</p>
<p>And they all brought that spirit of proto-punk and passion to the gig. They were all phenomenal players, weaving tight rhythms with complex song structures and precise breaks but hitting fast and hard. </p>
<p>All in all a great show and a testament to the enduring power of rock n roll. To paraphrase Mark Twain: the reports of the electric guitar's death are greatly exaggerated.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/52275682018-05-10T17:26:48-07:002018-07-02T09:57:57-07:00Outtakes from an SCX photoshoot<p>Well, photoshoot may be stretching it.... <a contents="Silver Cloud Express" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.silvercloudexpress.com" target="_blank">Silver Cloud Express</a> needed a band shot for the J Card of our cassette. Oh, yeah! We're having a cassette release party on June 23rd at <a contents="The Flycatcher" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flycatchertucson.com" target="_blank">The Flycatcher</a>! (The question of why we're releasing a cassette will be answered later)</p>
<p>Jamie is an amazing visual artist as well as an amazing sonic artist, so he's been working on a super trippy cover and wanted our heads floating ethereally. So Daniel came over the other night. Jamie wanted a high contrast photo that featured our faces, so background didn't matter.</p>
<p>So we mounted my phone on one of the supports of our back patio roof and basically took band selfies. This worked out way better than I thought it would!</p>
<p>Here are some outtakes that Jamie made. The cover itself...well you'll just have to wait a little longer on that, honey.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/a888c6225faeff9a9b42afd8251eb5fde3f4d7c7/original/cristina.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9a5af57a0dcb8035fd35e94669aa4c8b684c5ea2/original/fullband.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9b7679f72e7cb2df5233189dbb3ca2c9ad7e651b/original/daniel-03.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>and here's my favorite so far....</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/b4fab88b19990e413180a6469e7b97cc3a0e1286/original/cris-jam-01.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>(God, I've always loved that cleft in Jamie's chin)</p>
<p>And what was the end result? DRUMROOOOOOLLLLLLL</p>
<p>Here's a crop from our new cassette cover (designed by Jamie)! <a contents="And if you want the digital version of the EP itself, wander on oer this way!" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://silvercloudexpress.bandcamp.com/releases" target="_self">And if you want the digital version of the EP itself, wander on oer this way!</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/6ddcb6931b1094dea7db61e3706a93bd3b7d3c44/original/scx-bandcamp-ep-icon.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/52253972018-05-09T15:16:37-07:002018-05-09T15:16:37-07:00creative focus<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/b5537c2b07984120b71d74db237fdd90a1ec3a43/original/drowning-banner-e1456225030689.png/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Drawing by <a contents="Jessica Abel" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://jessicaabel.com" target="_blank">Jessica Abel</a></em></p>
<p>When you juggle day job and music (especially if you enjoy more than one music project), it's a challenge to keep things going. There's gigs to book and rehearsals (to power through after a long day at work) and keeping up when you have to go out of town on business trips. It's hard to keep producing..you know, actual <em>songs</em>. This is something I've wrestled with for a while. And one of the reasons I'm always reading up about creative productivity. One of the best, most effective things I've done in this realm is taking the <a contents="Creative Focus Workshop" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://jessicaabel.com/ja/creativefocus/" target="_blank">Creative Focus Workshop</a> with comic book writer and artist and teacher, <a contents="Jessica Abe" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://jessicaabel.com" target="_blank">Jessica Abe</a>l. Twice! Yeah, I needed to go through it again to get some things through my skull because it is an intense REALITY CHECK. </p>
<p>Jessica gently guides you through the process of identifying your own personal creative rhythms and flows and then jiving them with your reality. One of the exercises is to track your time for a couple of weeks and then actually lay out your 'ideal week' - not just your creative time and your day job time, but ALL of it. The weekend brunch, the nights out, or especially time watching TV and (my big bugbear) surfing that oh-so-tempting Internet.</p>
<p>The first time through, I kinda got stuck in that module, flailing around in a mental loop of knowing what I wanted to fit in a day and not seeing enough time slots. I would just keep staring at it thinking it would finally magically expand just an hour or two more. Or I could just not sleep.</p>
<p>But I'm a woman of a certain age - I need my sleep!</p>
<p>This time around, it took me longer than scheduled, but I finished the course! And actually got real (well, more real) about my schedule. Another aspect of the course is you define one goal for a six week period. You make it measurable and a balance of challenging but do-able. </p>
<p>Mine was writing and demo'ing 5-6 songs and adding them to a private soundcloud playlist by May 8th.</p>
<p>Sooooo, did I make it??</p>
<p>Kinda. I got 4 songs to the point of making a demo and posted them last night. Ugh, I berated myself, can't you just squeeze out one more to reach your quota? But then I realized: hey, I've got 4 new songs! A couple might be good for Silver Cloud Express and a couple are good for my solo stuff! </p>
<p>I was pretty chuffed with myself!</p>
<p>It wasn't easy, I will admit. Many, many times, I just didn't feel like digging deep first thing in the morning, or firing up Logic after already spending all day at my desk.</p>
<p>But I finished some songs in (for me) record time! HURRAH!</p>
<p>The workshop is over but will be offered again at some point <a contents="and you can sign up to learn when" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://jessicaabel.com/ja/creativefocus/" target="_blank">and you can sign up to learn when</a>. In the meantime, <a contents="Jessica posts amazing advice on her blog" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://jessicaabel.com" target="_blank">Jessica posts amazing advice on her blog</a> all the time and if you struggle with finding the time and energy to consistently focus on creative goals, do yourself a favor and sign up for her mailing list. Nope, I'm not even being paid to say this or offering an affiliate link or any of that. It's just such a blessing to find a way to keep doing the work that's the MOST important to my soul.</p>
<p>(oh and what about those 4 new songs? gonna share it with us?)</p>
<p>Hmmmmm, maaayyyyyybeeeee?</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/52026622018-04-25T18:19:31-07:002018-04-25T18:19:31-07:00happy birthday, cyril!<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/76ff70f8db1b8997275241b568e587e3896aa322/original/cyrilprofilepic.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Today's the birthday of a dear friend we lost way too soon, <a contents="Cyril Barrett" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://blog.cristinawilliams.com/thank-you-cyril" target="_self">Cyril Barrett</a> (also known as Larry). He is to this day one of my few models of total integrity as a person and an artist. He was one of those people who made you appreciate the simple beauty of life, especially when an old guitar was involved. He was never appreciated musically while he was alive quite the way he is now. His songs were achingly true and simply beautiful. At least we'll always have them with us - it may not be all of him, but it's definitely some gold.</p>
<p>Here's a lovingly produced CD of songs that his musical friends put together - we covered his songs and were hoping to use it to help his hospital bills. But he did get to hear some of them and boy did it make him smile!</p>
<p><a contents="The Banks of the Ships Canal" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.cyrilbarrett.com/" target="_blank">The Banks of the Ships Canal</a></p>
<p>And please check out some of his songs in his own voice here: <a contents="https://soundcloud.com/cyrilbarrett" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://soundcloud.com/cyrilbarrett" target="_blank">https://soundcloud.com/cyrilbarrett</a></p>
<p>We love you, Cyril!! Keep on strumming starlight in the sky...</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/eb68c8e77599ecaa25a4d4afd1b1e9bb05599067/original/10625103-10203795509482671-6381980274561950614-n.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51985702018-04-23T18:32:10-07:002018-04-23T18:32:10-07:00SCX at PsychOut 3!!<p>I'm in a band. It's with my husband, Jamie, and it's called <a contents="Silver Cloud Express" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.silvercloudexpress.com" target="_self">Silver Cloud Express</a>. We used to be The Modeens, a band we'd formed during our years in Venice Beach and migrated to Tucson just about ten years ago (holy cow, we have a Tucson anniversary coming up! but that's another story for another time). It's hard to explain why, but a couple of years ago, we'd lost steam for The Modeens. We experimented with some other music ideas and kept coming back to a core of more sonic-expansive music with deeper lyrics and a 'higher vibration' than the more pub-rock music we were doing. We used to throw Psych Circus parties and have always loved the trippy, so started calling our new sound "psychedelic rock" (and then in some weird synchronicity, a bunch of other bands have been called the same thing it's a bit of a new trend (who knew?).</p>
<p>So anyway, we became Silver Cloud Express with veteran local drummer Daniel Thomas. Downtown Tucson Radio is a pretty new community radio station (to compliment other excellent local radio, KXCI) that specializes in more underground, edgier music and they have been super supportive of us. We've played few benefits for them, including last year's PsychOut. This year it was at Loft Cinema, an awesome art film house in town. Adan Martinez Kee, local musician, programmed some amazing visuals on the movie screen behind the bands. The other bands on the bill were excellent: Tropical Beach, The Psychedelephants and The Myrrors. Here's a little digital scrapbook of the night:</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/31c43e6edaccec184313cc6d620f6726e2d04c56/original/scx-setlist.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Our set list for the night.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/2b6143d37697416f5ec2d68b2f3a9e4c41484bdc/original/scx-psychout2.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><a contents="Write up on Tucson Weekly" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.tucsonweekly.com/tucson/turn-on-tune-in/Content?oid=15901781" target="_self">Write up on Tucson Weekly</a> with a photo of us from last year's PsychOut!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/febc6f81868ec6646c1c97cf75427eafe1afbc12/original/jamie-rising.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Stunning photo by fan and friend Cia Romano</p>
<p>The rest of these are only some of the amazing photos by <a contents="Jeff Sprytime" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/SpryTime/" target="_self">Jeff Sprytime</a> of the event.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/8cc81d97c0c6c04319a8358124327b6d8feee0fd/original/img-0077.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/859f33988f21fe5b323c055fcb5b856a9d775d46/original/jam-dan-psychout3.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/dd6fb2b7c1a39db43e7a36928378e1efe53c8a81/original/img-0073.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/0a9362e80fe4dfb9f087d7ac029402b27432f00e/original/img-0078.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/79ee419d90b0bd7f9c342b2ec10a95a0de3aa6c9/original/img-0074.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/8af752be9072b72481a5a0bf8758aead8cccdf39/original/img-0076.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/f757fd1cfb82b85a8425a9efff4d9fd83421213b/original/psychout3-audience.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>You can find so many other cool images (of the other bands too!) on the <a contents="Facebook album here" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=ms.c.eJxFUtuRRTEI6mgnvrX~%3BxnYO3pBfRgERqZQas7Sulo4~%3BAaB9TrjP6R~%3Bg0qUibvkDTOQDwo2Afhx65q6cxIpfDqsDlZALqH8qnX4Bd5DKuUBDxYsqNutUr4qD9LTQaX6kVXfCosAxRWOzE9epJa5tpdNuqNiV1Soc59epjmCFpDo7oZxInB9N0qMAgsbG4GOCEa6PanLEcgwBJDZPpTaxZmJV4BDmofs5TQJQqeRvzTbC5~%3BTsLcI6IMLIFyFu8XeLQyUO~_6FrXVkHD8iyMDp77VDWMNHBZ~%3BvWshjQbKWCKxGYyCfbW6nzD314lNo~-.bps.a.1761792623878259.1073741998.148009878589883&type=1" target="_self">Facebook album here</a>.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51853602018-04-16T18:15:05-07:002018-04-16T18:15:05-07:00marvin gaye and what some executives don't understand<p>Did you know that the record label HATED "What's Going On?", the seminal masterpiece put out by Marvin Gaye and co-written by Four Tops member Renaldo "Obie" Benson in the wake of police brutality against anti-war protestors? Barry Gordy of Motown Records called it "the worst thing I ever heard in my life." Marvin didn't care. He went on strike from recording anything else until some other folks at the label basically released it behind Gordy's back. The song took off after that and Gordy ended up begging Gaye to release a whole album, giving him full producer rights. As Gaye said,</p>
<p><span class="font-large">'With the world exploding around me, how am I supposed to keep singing love songs?'" </span></p>
<p>Needless to say, this "awful" song became the biggest song of his record, sold over two million copies and, more importantly, was beloved by many generations of music lovers as a clarion call for peace and a call for sanity in a world gone crazy.</p>
<p>Because he was connecting with what we were actually going through. And are still going through.</p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/H-kA3UtBj4M" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>Peace, sisters and brothers.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51810932018-04-13T18:13:10-07:002018-04-13T18:15:30-07:00across time: before & after<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9b7328cbd092aeb0911b9271aebcc5e53c4b46e4/original/432890052-40bf4f48f1-o.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><strong>Across Time</strong> is another tune I wrote with my dad, Tom Williams. It was the first time since he taught me to play guitar when I was 10 that we actually collaborated on a song. I love to geek out on song origins, so here's the original email in 2015 that made me think, hmm, I could make something with this.</p>
<p><em>and this is me, across time. and I am changed, and have thereby lost, and gained. I'd like to compare, balance, what if? but it don't do no good. there is here and there is now, and the future? mebbe woven to my liking, mebbe not, but woven. I noe that only compassion/love is real. and, ha, oh my, it makes me feel very blessed. I cannot see much in the darkness that seems about, but I kin still feel those things I choose to touch about me. I noe what is true treasure. it is good food for hungry mouths, warm shelter and a good bed for the weary, and the hand on yer shoulder as someone looks into yer eyes and sez, "you have done well, you are blessed, and I noe how bad you feel, and I'll share a bit of yer heavy load." making mistakes for the right reasons is my line of work. and out of those mistakes, I learn. my, sometimes the learnin', really hurts, and, I need to make my load go against science, with that cold gravity. I want to feel lighter by my knowin', and I wanta gain, by, my, loss. I kin only do that magic wid some artists, who painted a picture, with or without a viewer, who chiseled stone, for empty spaces, who wrote words, only made real by their pain, for books that only pressed flowers, or went to used book shops and found homes, singers who sang to many deaf groups, all for the ones who listened. I have been in cold places, and I have been warmed by candle light and friendship. sometimes there are no cars or trucks or road signs on my highways. but. sometimes I come to a gas station with a coca-cola machine, and packs of crackers, and sometimes i run into a friend. what a wonderful trip.</em></p>
<p>Amazing as is, right?</p>
<p>It took me a few months, but here's what I ended up with. It doesn't have all the beautiful gems he wrote but I got as much as I could in there!</p>
<p><em>This is me, across time <br>I have changed <br>I've lost and I've gained my <a contents="little pieces of string" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.cristinawilliams.com/home/blog/little-pieces-of-string" target="_self">little pieces of string</a> </em></p>
<p><em>There is here and there is now <br>while the future, she's always weaving <br>and I search for the magic of those who can chisel fine stone from thin air <br>I'm leaning in for some truth. </em></p>
<p><em>I know the treasure of a hand on my shoulder <br>Saying 'Hush now, it'll be alright." <br>The path can grow weary and the mountains rise high. <br>You still say, it'll be alright. </em></p>
<p><em>You know that making mistakes For all the right reasons <br>is my line of work <br>Sometimes I learn <br>But the learning sure hurts me and so <br>I fight the science of <br>Cold gravity. The more I let go, the lighter I feel I want to gain from my loss </em></p>
<p><em>And I know the treasure of a hand on my shoulder <br>Saying 'Hush now, it'll be alright." <br>The path can grow weary and the mountains rise high. <br>You still say, it'll be alright. </em></p>
<p><em>I know the treasure <br>of a hand on my shoulder saying ‘hush now, it’ll be alright And each time that boulder rolls back down that hill <br>You still say, ‘it’ll be alright' <br>Why don’t you gimme some of your heavy load </em></p>
<p><em>This highway gets lonely but sometimes there's a gas station where I'll run into a friend.</em></p>
<p><a contents="You can hear the finished song here.&nbsp;" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/1283567/across-time" target="_self">You can hear the finished song here. </a></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51667212018-04-05T17:31:14-07:002018-04-09T16:46:16-07:00little pieces of string<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/df2fa3d5d7181367c544a6d91cae1356cefdfabf/original/img-4254.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>One of my recent songs, "<a contents="Across Time" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/1283567/across-time" target="_self">Across Time</a>", is actually a collaboration with my Dad. The first verse is "This is me, across time. I have changed. I've lost, then I've gained my little pieces of string." And Daddy got a big kick out of 'little pieces of string' because it's a reference to the odd collecting (well, mayhap closer to hoarding) habits of his uncle, Thomas Watson Parker (who went by Watson). I was just out there visiting for Easter and got more details of this very interesting relative.</p>
<p>Watson was a bit of a 'ne'er do well' according to some in the family, and after coming home from serving in WWI, he had some trouble fitting in with regular society in south Georgia. He lived with his his brother Carson and his wife and was a big collector of practically anything that could fit in his room: burlap sacks full of soda bottles, giant wads of tinfoil as big as basketballs, 14 canaries (that's right, 14 canaries, as in <em>birds</em>).</p>
<p>And there was a little cigar box full of small strings. Stuffed in there was a little wad of paper that when you unfolded it was written "pieces of string too short to collect".</p>
<p>That was Uncle Watson in a nutshell.</p>
<p>He lived right off the 17th tee of the Augusta Golf Course, which was a favorite of a certain former president, Dwight D. Eisenhower. Now Eisenhower wasn't president during WWI but he was part of it, training young recruits. And one of those recruits happened to be a certain Private Parker.</p>
<p>So any time President Eisenhower went to Augusta to play golf, Uncle Tom would stand just off the 17th tee and when the former president pulled up, he'd stand at attention and hold a salute. Eisenhower would then walk on over and chat some - soldier to soldier.</p>
<p>When his Paw (Daddy's grandpa) died at 93, his last words were, “Who will take care of that boy, Watson?.”</p>
<p>Pieces of string too short to collect - those little moments that evaporate in the blink of an eye. A bird's call, the wind sweeping through the willow's leaves, a brief smile from a stranger on the street. They go by too fast to catch and you won't find them on any social media post but they're still there, gathering dust in some corner of your mind.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large">"My life is a box of pieces of string too short to collect." Thomas Harrell Williams (aka Daddy)</span></p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51445212018-03-23T17:31:30-07:002018-03-23T17:33:32-07:00white flowers<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/c972d74a853321f7a0376f09ea689feb9cf64150/original/4736029250-309319ff65-o.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Tomorrow is the <a contents="March For Our Lives" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://marchforourlives.com/" target="_blank">March For Our Lives</a> to promote sensible, regulations to our out-of-control gun situation. </p>
<p>Made me think of a verse for a new song we're working on for <a contents="Silver Cloud Express" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/silvercloudexpress/" target="_self">Silver Cloud Express</a> called "Here and Now" and it encapsulates my wish for peace.</p>
<p><span class="font_xl">White flowers falling from the sky</span></p>
<p><span class="font_xl">Reflecting the rainbows in our eyes</span></p>
<p><span class="font_xl">Burying our monsters and their machines</span></p>
<p><span class="font_xl">To melt them clean</span></p>
<p><span class="font_xl">In the spring</span></p>
<p>Inspired by the story of Swami Vishnudevananda and his <a contents="Peace Plane" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B2eAskBoDoM" target="_self">Peace Plane</a> (painted by Peter Max) that he flew over war-torn areas in 1970 dropping white flowers and pamphlets while chanting mantras of peace. The legend goes that violence sharply decreased for a short time afterwards. </p>
<p>May white flowers shower down on your path today.</p>
<p>Peace,<br>Cristina</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Photo<a contents=' "Smoldering Rose" by Jon' data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/janein/" target="_self"> "Smoldering Rose" by Jon, a Ninja Hen</a> </em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51428392018-03-22T15:36:48-07:002018-03-22T15:36:48-07:00every damn day<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/007affafa5d04ff74ca71b0e1e82a04e9395a3ec/original/img-4230.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Gratuitous sunset picture from our backyard</em></p>
<p>Just read this <a contents="blog post about having an 'Every Damn Day' list" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.yesandyes.org/2018/03/every-damn-day-list.html" target="_blank">blog post about having an 'Every Damn Day' list</a> and I really liked this idea! I mean, I have my WHOPPING list of all the things I WANT to get done every day. Then I have the more realistic list of stuff that I can get done on a good day (or a not-so-good day if I really push myself).</p>
<p>But then there are <em>those</em> days. You know the ones. You've come down with something, things have been crazy and you're exhausted, there's a snow-pocalypse or rain-pocalypse or even an actual apocalypse or heck, it's just one of <em>those</em> days. If you have a handy dandy Every Damn Day list of the absolute smallest gestures you can make towards what makes you feel better about your life, then it doesn't have to be a total wash!</p>
<p>She divides them into categories:</p>
<ul> <li>Makes your space feel nicer</li> <li>Makes you feel healthier</li> <li>Makes you feel like you're doing better emotionally</li> <li>Makes you feel on top of your life!</li>
</ul>
<p>Cool, huh?</p>
<p>I started making one and then already tripped up on some of the 'rules': no more than 5 or 6 things and they should be super simple, nothing that takes 15 minutes or more to do. Again, this is your baseline, bare minimum showing-up-for-yourself stuff.</p>
<p>So I let go of that dang turbo mentality and kept it simple. I tried to make these little actions that I could even do if I'm traveling (which is usually when I let everything go and then come back home feeling ragged as hell).</p>
<p>So here's my list (and it's only FOUR, yall!):</p>
<ul> <li><span class="font_large">Space feel nicer: Make sure all the dishes are washed and the sink is empty. If I'm traveling, it translates to keeping my bathroom sink area tidy. </span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Feel healthier: Eat at least three servings of veggies (I think I can make that happen away from the house, we'll see)</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Feel better emotionally: Meditate for at least 5 deep breaths</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Make me feel on top of my life: Play or write music. This can even be just singing a song to myself.</span></li>
</ul>
<p>Even just writing this down made me feel SO much calmer just now. Give it a try!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51406812018-03-21T16:11:48-07:002018-03-29T09:18:16-07:00saguaro spring<p>Shot of this month's calendar photo (from my trusty <a contents="Sierra Club" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.sierraclub.org/" target="_blank">Sierra Club</a> calendar that I get as a donor) with one of the feather totems from Daddy. He collects feathers and then turns it into wearable art inspired by Native American that symbolizes wisdom and peace. I can't remember which kind of bird this feather came from, I'll have to ask him. But when I turned my head to look at this (it hangs just to the right of me as I sit at my desk) with the desert in its spring glory, it just moved me today.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9dd43916ec6a853e22fbe801c5614a4a1bbcc9ce/original/saguaro-spring.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large">Happy Spring! May many lovely new things blossom for you this season!</span></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51386142018-03-20T17:27:41-07:002018-03-21T19:32:03-07:00Blue and the Desert Spiny Bunch<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/e1b2c059232ad13564f13601403aa1867e3173f9/original/img-4207.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Got some questions about ol' blue from the newsletter I sent yesterday. Here's some fun facts:</p>
<ul> <li><span class="font_large">He's the patriarch of a large lizard dynasty living in our walled-in backyard.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">He's a Desert Spiny Lizard (Sceloporus magister) native to the Sonoran and Chihuahua deserts.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Male desert spinys have blue markings that run under their body, hence "Blue"</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Jamie names the lizards and actually calls this one 'Big Blue' or just 'Blue'. I sometimes use Ol' Blue because I just like it.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">The other lizards in the family (as far as we can tell) are Harry (the first one that Jamie made friends with a few years back), Sandy and the new one 'Micro'.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Starting with Harry, these lizards have over the years learned that Jamie will feed them meal worms when they come out into the center of the yard. But sometimes they can't wait and can be found on the porch. In fact we have to be careful going out the back door because sometimes Harry will be waiting right outside.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Harry is actually a 'she'. But Jamie didn't realize that when he named her and the name has stuck.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Most of the lizards will now climb onto Jamie's leg when he kneels down to feed them. It's one of the coolest things I've ever seen.</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">Around November, they go into hibernation, so we haven't seen them for months!</span></li> <li><span class="font_large">But the mealworms in the canister in the refrigerator were still alive! Good to know when food shortages start driving us to eating insects (yummy AND long fridge life!)</span></li>
</ul>
<p>And now some documentation of our fun lizard life (all photos by Jamie):</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/abf91b7e5caa0c8465bc3d13a9348568e5df80c0/original/micro.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Micro waiting on the back door gate...</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/e4343a297e1dd9ce03de8d237f84abeca37a4410/original/harry-blue.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Harry (L) and Big Blue (R) (Can't see Harry? Good camouflage, huh?)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/070a47c481ef4f2b84451b9ecc1ee09d7b2e126a/original/harry-house.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Harry sitting on her house.</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/fdd4c34d5bcb40d3a1ece361bfe3d6c928e2aed5/original/feed-me.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Feed me!!! (introducing Sandy on the far left)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/78a894e560de9373b6d7af82adf8f7b4bf887ffa/original/big-blue-knee.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Big Blue jumping up on Jamie's knee for the first time! Dang, look at those claws!</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51323632018-03-16T13:07:32-07:002018-03-16T13:07:32-07:00the broccoli tree<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/e448abaae9e522f7fa6d03eb1cec0b738f0b3871/original/broccolitree-140622-880-patrik-svedberg.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Midsummer Special - by <a contents="Patrik Svedberg" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://thebroccolitree.com/">Patrik Svedberg</a></em></p>
<p>I was pointed to this video by my favorite Friday read, <a contents="Austin Kleon's newsletter" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com/">Austin Kleon's newsletter</a>. I was just stunned by not only the story of the broccoli tree itself - a series of pictures of the same tree by a lake in Sweden that started as an innocuous post on Instagram - but how the video (just under 4 minutes) is a parable about the impermanence of life, the relative permanence of art and how sharing something can be dangerous...but is ultimately worth it. Please watch:</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ESyJop31cmY?rel=0" width="560"></iframe></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51306412018-03-15T15:01:07-07:002018-03-15T15:01:07-07:00our minds... (a tinypost)<p>Something that came to me as I was lying in bed last night:</p>
<p><span class="font_large">Our minds can play the hero, the victim AND the villain.</span></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/6d7053f560d0e7be5ffc660bc46d08c0906d60a2/original/dudley-doright.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>(Turns out this is referred to as the Karpman triangle, or the drama triangle and is commonly used to structure storylines or in conflict resolution between people - but again, the Mind is very good at playing all three within one person.)</p>
<p>(Google also showed a reference to characters in stories that represent all three-in-one: notably, The Hulk. I used to love that show.)</p>
<p>(Oh, and of course I stumbled on the old Dudley Do-Right cartoons from Rocky and Bullwinkle perfectly portraying all three! I used to love that show too)</p>
<p>(Ok, I'm done now : )</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51285022018-03-14T15:09:34-07:002018-03-14T15:48:33-07:00Hal<p>Well, I can't let this day, March 14th, go by without acknowledging that 6-foot tall hole that's still in my heart.</p>
<p>Hal is my baby brother who should have been 36 by now. Today's the anniversary of his leaving this plane and it's been - 12 years, wow.</p>
<p>He still shines incredibly brightly in my world though. Keep blazing, brother!!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/a30193d1ca40b7e1655e44cd167f0b8a3e43b95d/original/img-4212.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>desk vigil...with tiny turtle totem from Mami (Turtle was one of his nicknames)</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51265682018-03-14T14:48:08-07:002018-03-14T14:48:08-07:00bass meditation<p>With a title like that, you could assume this will be a rumination on the nature of playing bass, the purpose of the bass instrument in Life, of or even a little haiku on the joys of bass! But no, today I am outlining an actual method of meditating by practicing bass. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/2f5bdab0d4fce19e3e7f9a32b218a51e24d66054/original/img-4204.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>my morning meditation candle</em></p>
<p>This whole thing started while talking with Jamie this past weekend about practice. Jamie spent his formative years holed up in a room with a guitar, noodling til all hours of the night. Me, I was always a a resistant mule, pulling against the harness. I have never been good at practice, always resisted it. I'll practice for a gig or other special event, but only recently have I been trying to incorporate something more regular. So I was saying how I wanted to get better at bass, fill in some gaps in my knowledge about music theory and such. Jamie then told me again his theory that all you have to do is take a riff that you're having trouble with and just repeat it over and over again for an hour.</p>
<p>"An <em>hour</em>?" I squeaked. Again (he's mentioned this before).</p>
<p>"Ok, <em>at least</em> half an hour. Half and hour of doing that riff over and over and it'll be <em>in</em> you."</p>
<p>Which I don't argue at all. Of course it would be tattooed in your essence after that long. But I just couldn't help but shudder at the idea of doing the same riff over and over for 5 minutes let alone half an hour! But I've been trying to be more...devoted to my music. And move past my comfort zones. So I tried it yesterday after work.</p>
<p>Just 15 minutes - on my handy dandy meditation timer.</p>
<p>I chose the opening riff from (*cough* Silver Cloud Express' upcoming single *cough*) Color of our Dreams and set my forehead to the grindstone. But then I started falling into a sort of trance. Huh, it was actually kinda...nice! Just grooving on that one lick, over and over. It became like a chant with my fingers. I'd glance down at the timer and - wow, 6 minutes passed by! I just kept going. There would be sticky spots and I would go slower until they the worked themselves out.</p>
<p>Then the three ending gongs started sounding. I took a little stretch for my fingers, a sip of tea and started the timer again. I did the full half hour and it wasn't easy but it was cool! I felt so IN THE ZONE.</p>
<p>And as I turned off the timer after the gongs started sounding...I was thinking: This would make a good meditation.</p>
<p>So I did a bass meditation this morning (two 15 minute sessions, though I'll try straight 30 minutes tomorrow) and really liked it! So many similarities - staying present, in the moment, focusing your mind on one thing and letting everything else go. It put me in a bit of a trance and of course, there's the ever-awesome "killing two birds with one stone" element!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/5b837db42342d6cf5c12b2e3656be0ef6be695d8/original/img-4205.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>my little yoga desk - i begin every day here</em></p>
<p>This integration of music and meditation is nothing new - yogis have been chanting and holding kirtans for AGES. But I love how this practice merges something that is part of my core being (playing music) with a spiritual practice. It's like DEEP, man!</p>
<p>This could be a game-changer! We shall see, said the blind man...</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51138362018-03-12T15:29:38-07:002018-03-12T15:29:38-07:00to the bone<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/d7fe14153f98111bcf79c50583c1f1d1858930f3/original/14752760512-9875f52c3b-h.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>It's not easy being a musician. All the instability and stress of scrabbling to make ends meet along with the mental instability and stress of putting your most vulnerable self out into the world for others to jeer or cheer as they please. Having a day job takes care of the financial part, obviously. But then you have to fit in the real purpose of your life around the corners. Stealing minutes from Peter to pay Paul so to speak. You find yourself grousing about it all the time! (Or is it just me?) "Not enough hours in the day!" "Why did I let myself get sucked into this job in the first place?" "What happened to my DREAMS????" (said in my most dramatic <a contents="Sarah Bernhardt" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarah_Bernhardt">Sarah Bernhardt</a> delivery.)</p>
<p>I AM grateful. Here I am with a great job that allows me to work from home. This doesn't mean I work less hard. In fact it gets difficult to have boundaries between work and the rest of your life and I'm working on that. But it does mean I save time commuting and I can use my breaks constructively (practicing a song for 15 minutes instead of a smoke or coffee break really makes a difference).</p>
<p>Ugh, but the time when I want to devote to music - mostly after work - is when I'm sooooo tiiiiiiired. Let's face it - I'm not a spring chicken anymore. In my 30's living in New York, I used to have a demanding full-time office job and still would be out til all hours of the night rehearsing or playing a show and then going out AFTER that and still making it to work in the morning (though perhaps a bit on the bleary-eyed side...) But that was (mumble) years ago and I find that by 7pm the last thing I feel like doing is...anything.</p>
<p>But then lately, I've come to realize something.</p>
<p>So what? </p>
<p>Lately, I've been trying something a little different. Going ahead and having music dates after work with Jamie (or myself) outside of an official "rehearsal". Yeah, even though it's the last thing I might feel like doing and dinner is making me all cozy-feeling and looking longingly at the couch.</p>
<p>That exhaustion is mostly a <em>mental</em> exhaustion. Which is just as real as physical exhaustion. But you know what's good for that? Music! I don't know why it didn't hit me before. But playing music is exactly the antidote to that tired and cranky feeling I get after a long day at work. Because music is a direct path to the divine - even if you don't believe in anything beyond the physical plane, stay with me. There is something special about playing music that transcends ev<strong>e</strong>rything. That plugs you into the collective unconscious. That surpasses space and time. And that just makes you feel GOOD.</p>
<p>And I'm blessed to be able to plug into that state anytime I want. My monkey mind just forgets.</p>
<p>Oh I'll still belly-ache a bit to myself after I finally shut down my computer and get dinner going and look longingly at the couch. And make no mistake, sometimes I need my TV nights! I'm not saying I soldier on <em>every</em> day. Chillin' with my man and my kitty while we're deep couch sittin' - now that's some sweetness. But other nights I'm happy and much better off getting tired to the bone playing and singing songs.</p>
<p>Related links:</p>
<ul> <li>If you have trouble finding time for your creative work, go to <a contents="Jessica Abel's site about creative focus" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://jessicaabel.com/">Jessica Abel's site about creative focus</a> - such great advice! She has a wonderful workshop called the Creative Focus Workshop starting this week and I highly recommend it. She's also an awesome illustrator with great taste in glasses.</li> <li>Check out lots of ways <a contents="playing an instrument affects the brain here" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.brainpickings.org/2015/01/29/music-brain-ted-ed/">playing an instrument affects the brain here</a>. Then go pick up a guitar or somethin'!)</li>
</ul>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51179172018-03-08T11:00:21-07:002022-05-11T01:46:54-07:00Gabriel García Márquez<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/8ec4ee23ca78010d3cd9d89aeef1f69c12b5b439/original/ggm.jpeg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Foto de <a contents="lahojadearena.com" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.lahojadearena.com/gabriel-garcia-marquez-voz-de-america-latina/">lahojadearena.com</a></p>
<p>It was his 90th birthday this week. A huge literary influence for me, Gabriel García Márquez's writing was like a Latin flavor of impressionistic painting - but with words. He had the gift of transportation - bringing the reader into his version of home - a South America whose flamboyant natural world often eclipsed the epic tales of love and solitude of its people. He was one of the progenitors of 'magical realism' - that natively Latin American style infusing the so-called 'real world' with magic in a seamless blend that keeps it apart from actual fantasy or science fiction literature - much like another favorite of mine, Isabel Allende. The more supernatural elements are simply natural - many times in the form of a ghost, which in Latin American culture is not necessarily even deemed unusual. In fact Márquez dismissed the term 'magical realism' and said he just wrote the way his <em>abuela</em> told stories. </p>
<p>The novel that stays with me to this day is 'Love in the Time of Cholera' - a love story between two people in their seventies who were always married to other people until their respective spouses pass and they can finally be together. The yearning and passion across the generations is palpable and real and has always been my favorite example of romance. Reading again about it, I just discovered the story was inspired by an article Márquez had read about an old couple almost 80 years old who had been murdered while taking a boat ride, when their own secret romance across the years was finally revealed (truth once again trouncing fiction). </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/fd7755cd5ac7a38b198d2d6e8df0f7de3558604f/medium/love-cholera.jpeg" class="size_m justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>In an interview with the New York Times in 1982, he said that the “tricks you need to transform something which appears fantastic, unbelievable into something plausible, credible, are those I learned from journalism… The key is to tell it straight. It is done by reporters and by country folk.”</p>
<p>Amen to that.</p>
<p>Happy Birthday, Márquez! I'm sure your ghost is taking in the current tumult in the world and sparking ideas for more novels. Perhaps you'll whisper some lines into Allende's ears...or some new imaginative bard to carry your torch into our collective colorful darkness.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51063842018-03-01T16:18:04-07:002018-03-01T16:18:04-07:00full moon rotation<p>Happy Full Moon Fever! </p>
<p>I've always loved the moon. Whether it's because I'm a moonchild Cancer or just a romantic at heart, I've always been fascinated by our closest celestial neighbor and <a contents="do like to write songs about her" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/1266085/old-desert-moon">do like to write songs about her</a>. So I wanted to share this amazing video from NASA of the moon in full rotation:</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/L0CQEZmuD5M" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>I had no idea there was so much going on there! Vast craters, valleys, mountain ranges, and dry seas. I hear tell we may be trying to go back for a visit in the future and there may even be a wifi station there (wha?) But I'm content to just admire it from afar in all its many moods and phases.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/51035702018-02-28T18:40:10-07:002018-02-28T18:40:10-07:00like rain in the desert<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/a7e6730e1d169049a7c4e0f187ab55544851f1cf/original/8234504771-4db9b33682-b.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Photo by <a contents="Bill Gracey" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/9422878@N08/">Bill Gracey</a></em></p>
<p>It's raining! Been raining since deep into the night, when I awoke to that lovely gentle patter on the roof. Winter rains are the sweet cousin to our monsoon season. Instead of the crash and pow of thundering water flooding down on us for twenty minutes and then vanishing into the ether - this is the ongoing rhythm, the steady percussion, the slow drench of life seeping into our dust and turning it into rich earth.</p>
<p>It's hard to get out of bed on mornings like these. I yearn for 'rain days' the way Northerners have their snow days. Even though this kind of rain has NOTHING on the voluptuous downpours of my native Florida. It would take you a good half hour of walking in it to really get wet. Not exactly reason enough to shut down businesses and transit. But it's in the desert, yall! It just doesn't happen every day. We should be calling in sick and dancing in it! </p>
<p>Ah, but the City Council won't listen to me : ) </p>
<p>That's alright. I'll carry this rain in my heart - where it'll water the seeds of poetry still budding, slaking the never-ending thirst that is always moaning somewhere in the background. I think that's one of the reasons I love it here in Tucson. It's one of the few places where most of us are totally on board with loving the rain. You never hear anyone sing "rain, rain, go away, come again another day". If anyone bemoans the cancelling of a game or some other interruption because of a little precipitation, it's done in hushed tones. Because they know better. We need every drop we can get.</p>
<p>So may your day be blessed by the rain. May it baptize you in your own soul's nourishment, like manna from heaven.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50961912018-02-23T17:26:54-07:002021-03-31T02:26:25-07:00remembering the music store<p><em>Here's a reprint from 5 years ago - I was just reminded of it by a kind message from Freddy Paulus' grandson, Nicholas! Thanks for getting in touch, and all the best to your grandfather!</em></p>
<p>Most girls growing up in Jacksonville Florida in the eighties went to the mall. And so did I, though only when I absolutely had to. I was able to get away with less mandatory shopping time because I went to a Catholic school with an ugly, maroon and white uniform that took care of the bulk of my clothes-wearing necessities. Mami would try to cajole me into JC Penney's, Kinney's, Lerner's or even Merry-Go-Round, so that outside of school I had a chance of wearing some nice outfits without spots or frayed hems. Then if we ever bumped into other Cubans, she could keep her reputation as a good mother intact. But more often than not, on Saturday mornings I'd put on some slightly torn jeans and a tshirt and hop in the station wagon with Daddy to trade at the book store or check out guitars. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/666597afaee1a687731bd4462f6151febe8ad708/original/martin-vintage.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>I'll admit it, I'm spoiled when it comes to guitars. Where most kids my age had to make do with some cheap department store knock off, Daddy made sure I had an American-made honker in my velveteen-lined guitar case. I never owned a pair of Jordache jeans but I was always well-stocked with a Guild or Gibson - even a Martin. And all this on a high school history teacher's salary. That's because my Daddy can wheel and deal like the best of them, and because he made the rounds every week, examining inventory, scouting out deals and making trades. He hardly ever used cold hard cash or easy credit. No siree, he's a bartering man. Every store was an old friend and he was always given a hearty welcome when he walked through the door. Now that mom-and-pop music stores and bookstores are going the way of the dinosaur under the meteorite shower of Online Shopping, I'd like to pay my respects to a couple of establishments from my youth that made my musical life all the richer. </p>
<p>Paulus Music was in an old department store building in downtown Jacksonville at Duval and Ocean. The ceilings were high, covered in old stamped tin, the walls had been coated in layers of paint probably an inch thick before you'd hit plaster. There was a large front showroom lined with linoleum (with its own healthy amount of asbestos no doubt), a counter in the back with an old ring-up cashier where you made your purchases, and an upstairs filled with rows and rows of sheet music. The walls were filled with guitars, new and used, and the floor covered in drum kits. Daddy had known Mr. Paulus, Fred, that is, for a long time. He was known as a friend to the local musicians from way back in the sixties - sometimes giving a young kid a special layaway deal if there was something he really wanted but just couldn't afford. It was a hot spot for local musicians for the longest time (since this is Jacksonville, that included members of southern rock bands like Lynard Skinnard, .38 Special and Molly Hatchet). Lots of young men would frequent the joint, checking out the Gretschs, Les Pauls and the best rock n roll gear of the day, hanging out and talking about music. By the time I was visiting, the clientele seemed to lean more towards band kids and their parents. But the love of music and guitars was steeped deep into every surface of that local institution. </p>
<p>Don's Pawn - ah, now this was mecca and the source of many of my guitar treasures over the years. Daddy had known Don for ages, too. Don wasn't a picker or a player but he was a great businessman and music fan who had a good eye for guitars. His store was aaaaall the way over on the Westside, about forty minutes from home, but Daddy would still schlep over, always with a guitar or two in tow ('just in case I see something I like') lovingly stowed in the backseat instead of the trunk ('never put your guitar in the trunk for any idiot behind you to slam into'). Don had a cool collection of signed Gretches - gorgeous huge hollowbody mammoths that looked like cars from the fifties. They were scrawled with the Sharpie signature of Chet Atkins and BB King and quite a few more I don't remember. The guitars were a hodgepodge of what the good ol' boys brought in when they owed someone money hanging next to some amazing vintage finds at guitar shows. Everything from beat-up Epiphones left in a car too long to a shiny, like-new 1967 Gibson Hummingbird. The store was never much to look at itself - all right angles and industrial carpeting. But it didn't matter, you were looking at the guitars anyway. </p>
<p>First things first, Daddy would call out Don's name with a happy shout. Don would greet him like a long-lost brother after a lifelong separation (though they'd just wheeled and dealed the week before). They'd shoot the shit about the week, their kids, the messed up state of the union. I'd nod and smile and then go about checking the latest offerings. There was decent turnover at Don's and always something new to see. I would only check out the acoustics back then - this was before I 'went electric' in New York - and made a beeline for the GG&Ms - Gibsons, Guilds, & Martins - especially the older ones (though I didn't quite understand the concept of 'vintage' yet). </p>
<p>There's so many nuances to a well-made acoustic guitar: the finish (sunburst, blond, dark - even the sunbursts had their own subcategories of cherry, tobacco and daddy's so-called 'bugsplat'), woods (maple, mahogany, spruce, ebony), shape (parlor, jumbo, cutaway, double cutaway), playability (high action, low action, needs a setup or good to go) and, of course, the almighty sound. I swear, older GG&Ms just sound better. There's a mellowness, a slight over-ripeness that I always prefer. Newer guitars tend to sound too bright or harsh to me. Then there's the smell. There is nothing, I mean nothing, like the smell of an acoustic guitar. It's the honest smell of wood - young and fresh or old and musty. Just stick your nose in the soundhole and take a deep whiff sometime. Ahhhh. </p>
<p>After Daddy finished chewing off Don's ear, he'd start going through the inventory himself, strumming guitar after guitar. He'd inspect each one - peering down the neck to see if it needed adjusting, peering through the soundhole at the label and to get an idea of the bracing inside. After much eye squinting and brow furrowing, he might come across a new guitar that he couldn't live without - but he wouldn't let Don know that right off the bat. He'd just start asking about it, where Don found it, any history he could get, while the wheels in his brain chugged along making shrewd calculations about how much trade-in value he might get for what we brought in and if there were maybe any specially good books at home that might sweeten the deal. At the right moment, he'd send up the first offer. Don would pause, narrow his eyes, stroke his beard and then the real negotiating would commence. I was never interested in this part and would start wandering the aisles again. </p>
<p>Eventually they'd make their deal and more often than not, Daddy would come home with a different guitar and only sometimes with a lighter wallet (especially since my frugal mother would be waiting at home with the balance book and a stern look in her eye*). Many a time those deals were made for my benefit, hence my impressive list of former guitars. But where Daddy likes to buy and flip guitars, always freshening up his collection with something that looked like it needed a good home, I tend to find a guitar I love and stick with it. The Martin is one (and with its history, I doubt I'll ever part with it again) and my cutaway Taylor has been with me for more than ten years now and ain't going nowhere. Though now I'm thinking I might need a small parlour guitar to pick and strum with Jamie on the back porch. Hmm... </p>
<p>The wheels of Change are always grinding, though, and thanks to Almighty Ebay, Don closed down his store a few years ago and the Paulus store is about to become a health clinic. But their legacy lives on in the hearts and minds of many kids, young and old, who found a special kind of joy and magic in these wooden talismans of homespun music. I never won 'Most Fashionable' in high school but those guitars sure beat acid-washed jeans any day of the week. </p>
<p><em>* Mami may come across as stern in this post, but that's more for comic effect. Most of the time if Daddy overspent, she'd start off with a reprimand but then he'd tell some joke and she'd roll her eyes and laugh. She's the best - ¡Feliz Día de las Madres!</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50912622018-02-21T10:09:05-07:002018-02-21T10:09:05-07:00sweethearts of the rodeo video playlist<p>I still have all the warm fuzzies from last week's Sweethearts of the Rodeo gig and just wanted to pull together all those great songs - many of which I've never heard before. Here you go:</p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Coat of Many Colors, Dolly Parton</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/JBGj96s6lEg" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>The Sweetest Thing, Juice Newton</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6dvPJZnSCq8" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Passionate Kisses, Lucinda Williams (yeah, interesting use of the iguana there...)</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/EmVJDfbF-j8" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>I'll Be There, Connie Smith</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WZ6HnCLGFjI" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels, Kittie Wells</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/tKleTa94dC8" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>When the Tingle Becomes a Chill, Loretta Lynn</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qMM42ILPkRA" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Dear Someone, Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/w_SbWzbjueQ" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Funnel of Love, Wanda Jackson</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Kf5FvUt7iIw" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Just a Few Old Memories, Hazel Dickens</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/5-ggnZ7nqrY" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50890872018-02-20T09:55:01-07:002018-02-20T09:55:01-07:00bobbie gentry<p>Performing the Sweethearts of the Rodeo show last week helped me get in touch with a lot of great country music from female artists. Leading up to the show, Tucson Weekly asked the showrunner, Amy Smith, aka Amy Rude, for some contributions to their weekly column "Stars Pick Their Top Five" where local or touring musical artists share their top five albums of all time. Amy asked the rest of us on the bill to help her out (so they actually expanded it to six - and someone had a double entry, so there were SEVEN awesome albums mentioned). <a contents="You can check out the full list here - it's full of gems!" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.tucsonweekly.com/tucson/know-your-product/Content?oid=14348888">You can check out the full list here - it's full of gems!</a> My pick was Bobbie Gentry's <em>Ode to Billie Joe</em>:</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/5d6e4ccc32b09fc4c3de037eda83ee8d2dfafb1c/original/bobbie-gentry-ode-to-billie-joe.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><span class="font_large">"I've been humming along to the title track and plucking it on guitar since I was a teenager. I always loved Gentry's way with a story. Her songs were always so down-to-earth but literary—like a Mark Twain yarn. They really drew you into her world. She also had a bit of swag to her, a little bit o' grit to the left of Loretta Lynn. I've always thought she was a way underrated artist. But she's my epitome of country—storytelling, a little humor and a lotta heart."</span></p>
<p>I also loved <a contents="Bobbie Gentry" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://bobbiegentry.org.uk/">Bobbie Gentry</a> because she was such an outlier among women in country. She actually wrote and produced her own songs and represented the feminist progressive spark in the sixties, most notably with her second biggest hit, "Fancy", about a poor teenage girl being thrust into the role of prostitute by her dying mother in order to survive. Gentry made no bones about her political leanings and wrote about that song:</p>
<p><span class="font_large">""Fancy" is my strongest statement for women's lib, if you really listen to it. I agree wholeheartedly with that movement and all the serious issues that they stand for—equality, equal pay, day care centers, and abortion rights." </span></p>
<p>I want to thank Gentry for blazing her own trail in her own way. Nobody else could write or sing like her and that's about my favorite kind of artist.</p>
<h3>Ode to Billie Joe, BBC 1968</h3>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rNB8AKMdqiQ" width="560"></iframe></p>
<h3>Fancy, Johnny Cash Show, 1970 </h3>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/1XkcrHz26CI" width="560"></iframe></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50833202018-02-16T11:56:23-07:002018-02-16T11:56:23-07:00EXO Roast and a tribute to the women of country<p>Valentine's Day was wonderful at EXO Roast! Amy Smith (nee Rude) and her husband Doug have done wonders with the performance space, taking their already country-urban-cool coffee shop and carving out a cozy niche with a lovely bar (specializing in mescal!), long banquet style tables to foster some hobnobbing with your neighbors and a small stage decorated with Mexican-style crepe flowers and a nice sound system. It's a true listening room by candlelight and the crowd was attentive and responsive.</p>
<p>Amy kicked off the night with a lovely rendition of "Coat of Many Colors" preceded by her own story about her mama fashioning a shawl out of a baby's blanket back in the day.</p>
<p>I was up next and gave the debut public performance of "Cactus", dedicated to Daddy, and Juice Newton's "The Sweetest Thing" of course dedicated to my man, Jamie. Tom Willett, photog <strong>extraordinaire</strong> came prepared with camera in hand and here's some of his handiwork. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/7dd230d72c2508661d82d8a727bf9f8eeb056cc2/original/cris-willett.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Here's Lisa O'Neill covering Lucinda Williams' Passionate Kisses:<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/88649b57e3d3499bdf1a5f19dcb2f356768235a6/original/lisa.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Lonna Kelley - who came down from Phoenix for the night! - covered Kitty Wells (It Wasn't God Who Made HonkyTonk Angels), Connie Smith (I'll Be There) and then a song I hadn't heard before by Loretta Lynn that blew me away: "When the Tingle Becomes a Chill":</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/ea4bbfe9e824d28810e0575b565b737c1e2dbcbf/original/lonna.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Tulip Sweet is brought to you by the crazy krew behind the Lemon Drop Gang doing their own quirky country songs like "Hey, Jesus, Can I Stay In Your Room?" and "Chopping Onions" (with Stephanie O'Halloran and family):</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/b77d46ef7e9394d1066828e2b2bfb99f181179c4/original/tulip-sweet.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>But then we kicked into the true point of the night, which was DUETS! (Arizona Women Duet Better) and these were some humdingers!</p>
<p>Karima Walker and June West covered Gillian Welch & David Rawlings (Dear Someone), Shania Twain (Still the One) and Wanda Jackson (Funnel of Love) with a mix of Karima's indie quirkiness and June's badass guitarin' and wailin':</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/828801369d8345f766d2123b0879b6adc245979b/original/karima-june.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Lonna came back up with Amy Rude for heartfelt versions of "Hickory Wind" and "Help Me Make it Through the Night" (this is where the mescal really came in handy!)</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/0b8041fec5400a3f216908d979ca9b38c2bd55c5/original/amy-lonna.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Then Lana Rebel took Lonna's seat and crooned with Amy on a Hazel Dickens tune "Just a Few Old Memories".</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/5761b7f0bc7f8f1f61c961758fd9e2057773021d/original/amy-lana.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />I came up later for our Lefty Frizzel duet "Mom and Dad's Waltz" - though I can't find pix of that, it turned out really special and will be a very sweet musical memory for me!</p>
<p>Lana finished the night with a wonderful song "Hope It Don't Rain" <a contents="from her most recent&nbsp;album " data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.fperecs.com/catalog/miss-lana-rebel-kevin-michael-mayfield-midtown-island-sessions/">from her most recent album </a>with her partner Kevin on the musical saw (which is such a cool instrument - like a lo-fi theremin!)</p>
<p>What a lovely night! Amy wants to do these on the regular and I think that's a great idea. </p>
<p>Here's to women and country music and community!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50768242018-02-14T09:56:15-07:002018-02-14T09:56:15-07:00sweet harmony<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/c4a908a577cfc0e83740c405b0d8666a913ca215/original/sweethearts-rodeo.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Getting ready for the <a contents="Sweethearts of the Rodeo" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/events/143621149644158/">Sweethearts of the Rodeo</a> show at Exo Roast tonight for Valentine's Day. The main point is for local female artists in the country/folk spectrum to get together and play and do some little duets with each other that focus on country songs with a "sweet" theme (as opposed to the more usual whiskey and heartbreak tone). It's also a fundraiser for a Democratic candidate for AZ governor, Kelly Fryer.</p>
<p>I'm excited to be singing a song with <a contents="Lana Rebel " data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.lanarebel.com/">Lana Rebel </a>(and it's SUPER sweet! we kept getting a bit verklempt during rehearsal). Lana's voice itself is so sweet and pure and I'm really looking forward to singing a song by Lefty Frizzel who was one of the pioneers of Country and Western music becoming mainstream radio in the 50's. He ran around with the Hank Williams crowd and wrote some iconic tunes like "If You’ve Got the Money I’ve Got the Time" and was a huge influence on artists like Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard. The sweet song of his that we're doing is "Mom and Dad's Waltz" and you can listen to the original version here (though it's been covered a hundred times!) You can hear his signature 'vowel-bending' vocal style on the word "Momma".</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sEIcV_rZbfQ" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span class="font_large"><strong><span style="color:#c0392b;">Happy Valentine's Day, yall!</span></strong></span></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50711262018-02-09T10:16:32-07:002020-11-05T03:35:09-07:00music is life<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/666597afaee1a687731bd4462f6151febe8ad708/original/martin-vintage.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Someone posted this quote in a forum on FaceBook and it struck me so deeply, I had to share. I knew Bruce was a poet but it still is lovely to see his writing outside of his iconic songs. This is from a speech he gave when he accepted the MusicCares Person of the Year Award in 2013. Needless to say, I stand with every word. And it's just good to be reminded sometimes...</p>
<p><span class="font_large">"I’ve been a part of the miracle of music. I’ve seen people tired and depressed and weary and worn out, soul off. And I’ve seen them revived, rise from their seats and dance. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The Taliban will never win, not now or not ever, not here, not in Timbuktu by banning the music and dancing, don’t tell them. The minute you do that, you label yourself a tyrant and your cruel days are numbered. The minute Timbuktu was liberated, what did people do? They played music, and they danced. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">I was so happy to read that in the paper. I was happy for them, and happy for us “Vive la France!” <strong>You can’t triumph without music because music is life</strong>; music is the birds singing, the wheat rustling in the fields, strumming of the wind through the leaves of that tree that was in the backyard of your childhood home. The earth and the stars rolling through the heavens at night, before man or a woman heard their name, they heard music. They heard the wind rushing past their eardrums, the grasses humming with insects, the birds knocking and rocking in the trees."</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">-- Bruce Springsteen</span></p>
<p><a contents="You can see the video and read the full transcript here." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://lybio.net/bruce-springsteen-musicares-person-of-the-year/speeches/" target="_blank"><span class="font_regular">You can see the video and read the full transcript here.</span></a></p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50689382018-02-08T10:05:52-07:002020-06-27T04:30:34-07:00carol kaye is a badass!<p>I am swooning over the new Ric! So I'm in bass mode right now (even though I'm in recording limbo right now finishing the vocals for a Silver Cloud Express song!) Here's a re-post of a blog I did a while back (2012! wow) on my favorite bass player of all time who few people know about: Carol Kaye!</p>
<p>-- </p>
<p>It’s funny that most people these days think of me as a bass player. But holding down the rhythm with four giant steel strings is a relatively new development in my life. I’ve been playing acoustic guitar since I was a wee ten years old – thanks to Daddy. But going electric was as adventurous as I’d gotten – and that didn’t even happen in full force until a couple decades later. </p>
<p>Playing bass was at first a practical matter: Jamie and I were playing in The Modeens in Los Angeles with our friend Phil on drums. Jamie was the bass player, but he’s a much more powerful and versatile guitar player than I am and we started thinking: what about changing roles? I’d admired the bass since my New York days – I’d played with some amazing bass players in New York, including Dan Green and Michael P Nordberg (though he’s gone over to the 6-string side these days to great effect). And Jamie himself is a rockin’ bass man (check him out singing and playing in his old band, <a contents="Frankenorange" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.myspace.com/johnandrewsnyc/music/songs/frankenorange-lustify-76320321" target="_blank">Frankenorange</a>!) They all had schooled me in blues and rock and the important role bass plays as part of the bedrock of those sounds. You gotta groove those lower notes in time with the beats to create the undeniable soul sensation that gets other people to move with you. So let’s say I was a little bit intimidated at first. </p>
<p>Then Jamie gave me my birthday present: a lesson with Carol Kaye. I freaked out. THE Carol Kaye! She was alive and living in Los Angeles and you could actually pay her for a lesson! Can you believe it? What? Carol who? C’mon, you’ve never heard of Carol Kaye? Well sit yerself down and I’ll tell you about the most badass of bass players whose funky fingers helped create almost all of your favorite sounds from the sixties and seventies. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/89fc214499dcdaba1be167783910137c6b0ac455/original/carolpic.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Carol Kaye came from a musical family and had already started playing as a professional jazz guitarist (and teacher) in the fifties when she was just 14. At that time, a bass string sound only had one source: a giant standup double bass about six feet tall. Then somebody (Leo Fender) had the bright idea that if you could make guitars electric, why not make a bass version? So Fender became the enterprising company that produced these new fangled instruments, but nobody really knew how to play them yet. Carol recalls that she was at a Sam Cooke gig, getting ready to take out her guitar when the word came down that the only guy they knew who could play the studio’s Fender bass couldn’t make it. They asked Carol if she could give it a shot and she said, sure, why not? </p>
<p>That was the beginning of an amazing career. She became the top session player – any time a big studio needed players for a recording artist or TV show or soundtrack, Carol was the first on their list in Hollywood, recording over 10,000 sessions in her heydey. She was even part of the Wrecking Crew – a stable of top-notch musicians including Tommy Tedesco and Hal Blaine who did the actual performing of tunes you thought were played by The Beach Boys, The Mamas and The Papas, Derek and The Dominos, and the like. </p>
<p>And she was a single mother – yeah, she would work 13-16 hour days recording as many as 3 different songs while raising three young-uns of her own. In fly gogo boots to boot. So what did she play on? For starters, Good Vibrations, Feelin’ Alright, I’m A Believer, These Boots Are Made For Walkin, and thousands more. Heard any of those? Then you know who I’m talking about! </p>
<p>And I was going to meet her. And she was gonna teach me to play the bass! The day of our first lesson, Jamie was almost more nervous than I was – she was his bass hero! It was a bit of a drive from Venice (then again, this is Los Angeles where everything is a bit of a drive.) After some time on the 405, we finally found her house in a cluster of condos in a very suburban area. We collectively held our breath after ringing the doorbell. When the door opened, we met a mature, petite woman with short, frosted hair and large tinted glasses. She gave us a big smile and welcomed us inside. Carol had just moved from another home, so there were still unpacked boxes and the occasional coo from her covey of doves upstairs. In the living room, she had a very simple set up for lessons: small practice amp, a couple of stools and her Ibanez bass. She encouraged me to record the session and soon she was teaching me her technique for playing bass. </p>
<p>Now I wasn’t a total newbie – Jamie had taught me some things. But technique is totally different between four string and six string guitars. Not only do you have much thicker strings and a longer, heavier neck to contend with – you’re going for a different effect – holding down the root note of each chord (though there are expections to that rule), usually concentrating on single notes rather than chords (again there are exceptions) and making sure that you provide the harmonic foundation for the tune but while throwing in some riffs at the right times to add some interest. Carol would take it even further. With her jazz background, she knew how to improvise – and if a tune was too boring for her, she’d find a way to add a little sonic sparkle with a well-placed riff or new take on a line. You know that song “The Beat Goes On” by Sonny and Cher? That descending bass line in the verse? Before Carol came along, it was just a straight and steady single note. But the descending line totally makes the tune – and I can’t imagine it would have gotten very far on the charts without it. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/2e97089e1af0a6df6eeb2981e4edfee551c780ff/original/wreckingcrew-tommytedescocarolkaye.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Aside from her busy recording job, Carol had been not only teaching bass, but self-publishing her own manuals, then VHS tapes, then DVDs, since 1969. So part of getting a lesson from her is getting access to these time-tested copies of her books and pamphlets bursting with various riffs she had created and played throughout her career. She also threw in lots of copies of articles she’d written, material written about her and even some royalty stubs from La Bamba or That Lovin’ Feelin. </p>
<p>You can still get her manuals <a contents="online" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.carolkaye.com/catalog/index.php?cPath=21">online</a>, many with the slightly blurry and cramped Courier font from the days of mimeographs and Xerox, and within you can find the technique she honed over many years that allowed her to play constantly for 16 hours a day and never suffer repetitive stress syndrome or other musician-related injuries. All while wearing her strappy Kinney sandals and cats eye glasses. Actually, one of the most valuable lessons on her DVD “<a contents="Bass DVD Course with Manual" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.carolkaye.com/catalog/product_info.php?cPath=22&products_id=43" target="_blank">Bass DVD Course with Manual</a>” is How To Groove, where she clicks on her old metronome and instructs you to not only play in time with it, but to dance with it, to “groove” with it. And if you can groove with a metronome, you can groove to anything. </p>
<p>Some particulars of the Carol Kaye method: she uses flatwound strings and a pick (as opposed to her fingers like many other players do now), positioned in a certain way; on her left hand (her fretting hand), she uses her pinky finger instead of her ring finger to reach higher notes. And theory, lots of theory. Carol is first and foremost a jazz musician and her actual playing ability far exceeded the material she was paid to do. She thought rock was fun but kinda ‘kids stuff’. To this day, she’ll sit in with Plas Johnson (saxophone player on the Pink Panther theme) at a jazz cafe and run up and down that fretboard enough to make your head spin! So theory was very important to her (and new to me – I finally understood what a ‘fifth’ or a ‘third’ was!) </p>
<p>I’m not a jazzbo, but I picked up some of the basics and then she put me through my paces teaching me riffs she’d been paid to come up with throughout her career, including Wichita Lineman, Autumn Leaves,and Hikky Burr (theme from Bill Cosby’s show). Not that I could play them for you now (sad to say) but they did form a bedrock for bringing the bass to life for me on other tunes. </p>
<p>To our utter and sheer delight, she peppered her instructions with tales from her career. And there was some jaw-dropping stuff (at least to sixties music nerds like us). She worked with Brian Wilson (on many Beach Boys songs, but particularly on Pet Sounds) and told us how he already had everybody’s parts in his head and just dictated to each musician exactly what their lines were. Except for one part in Good Vibrations, where they needed a transition between parts. Carol had been experimenting with a fuzz-tone pedal and improvised a steadily repeated single note with the fuzz sound on the spot. Brian loved it and it’s a prominent part of one of the most classic rock songs of the sixties. Which she played for us on the spot and our hearts collectively skipped a beat hearing her do that live. She also worked with Phil Spector (and yes, he was a crazy asshole) and Quincy Jones (who she really dug). </p>
<p>Carol is a veritable treasure trove of music knowledge and LA stories and I got a lot from my three lessons. I don’t play nearly as well as her – or nearly as well as any of my other bass influences. But I did become a bass player. And getting to know a woman like Ms Kaye reminded me that it’s not about men vs women – it’s about working together to make amazing music happen. </p>
<p>I’ve barely scratched the surface of the Carol Kaye method, but if you’re interested in learning more, I highly recommend checking out her website (<a contents="http://carolkaye.com/)" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://carolkaye.com/" target="_blank">http://carolkaye.com/)</a> and especially her materials here (<a contents="http://www.carolkaye.com/catalog/index.php?cPath=21" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.carolkaye.com/catalog/index.php?cPath=21" target="_blank">http://www.carolkaye.com/catalog/index.php?cPath=21</a>). You can even get a Skype lesson if you’re not close by! You’d be in the company of some other bass players who’ve been influenced by her books: Sting, John Paul Jones, Jaco Pastorius and Stu Hamm. </p>
<p>And this Saturday, Carol Kaye turns 77 [<em>Edit: That was 6 years ago! and she's still giving lessons!</em>]. Happy Birthday, Carol! You’re a huge inspiration to women everywhere – a fine example of being a total badass in a man’s world. People still don’t know your name but you are the unsung hero of 60’s and 70’s music in the Williams-Laboz household! </p>
<p>Here’s a trailer for a proposed documentary about this amazing woman and musician, “Her Name is Carol Kaye” – unfortunately they haven’t found funding but I really hope it still gets made someday. In the meantime, you can see (and hear) some of her magic: </p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="437" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WMznvEgOPhU" width="778"></iframe></p>
<p>My favorite quote:</p>
<p><span class="font_large">“When you hear somebody with balls, that’s me.” — Carol Kaye </span></p>
<p>That’s right, Carol – and may you keep bringin’ it on the bass for many more years to come.</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50668182018-02-07T15:14:03-07:002018-02-07T15:14:03-07:00tribute to james jamerson<p>In honor of bass players everywhere who don't get quite as noticed as the guitar player or singer, here's the King! James Jamerson is the fingers behind half of the best music from the 60s (Carol Kaye being the other half). Here's a lovely tribute to his playing and his own Excalibur-turned-Holy-Grail - the lost 1962 Fender Precision Bass.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/20521c8760d50ce9fd6acba6c599c57aa2cc5a1e/original/jamerson-1-lettph.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>If you're NOT familiar with Jamerson, here's a good intro:</p>
<p><span class="font_large">"The pinpoint-perfect syncopation. The melodic counterpoint. The ghost notes and inversions. In a foregone era when guitarists moonlit as four-stringers and walking bass lines reigned supreme, no bass player possessed the musical footprint of James Jamerson. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Motown’s golden-era recordings read like a lofty Jamerson resume: from sessions with Stevie Wonder to Marvin Gaye, The Supremes to the Four Tops. And with more No. 1 hits than The Beatles and The Rolling Stones combined, it’s a reputation that remains unsurpassed."</span></p>
<p>Read the rest here: <a contents="https://reverb.com/news/a-tribute-to-james-jamerson-and-his-stolen-funk-machine" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://reverb.com/news/a-tribute-to-james-jamerson-and-his-stolen-funk-machine">https://reverb.com/news/a-tribute-to-james-jamerson-and-his-stolen-funk-machine</a></p>
<p>Some geek notes - Kaye and Jamerson famously differed in their picking style - Jamerson used only his index finger and Kaye adamantly swore by using a pick (which is how I learned). But it's interesting how they both came from jazz backgrounds, and both set up their basses to sound more like an upright: flatwound strings and a mute at the bridge to muffle the sustain (plus putting the volume and tone knobs all the way up). In a way they each limited the palette of the instrument so that it was all down to their playing.</p>
<p><span class="font_large">"Then again, the instrument was never maintained to begin with. Jamerson never cleaned the bass or changed the strings, as he believed the residue was the key to his sound—or as he put it, “The gunk creates the funk.”"</span></p>
<p>Hah, I hold by this theory as well. So keep an eye out for 62 P Bass with the word FUNK carved in the back of the neck!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50642972018-02-06T18:02:14-07:002020-11-30T19:30:35-07:00It's Ric Day!<p>Oh boy oh boy oh boy! I'm about to do something I haven't done in a good long while - pick up a new axe! I know I might be counting my chickens since it is not actually in my house yet, but today I am going to be picking up a new Rickenbacker bass. (!) Now, my relationship with the bass started back around mid-2000s (mid-oughts? what the hell are we calling that period of time between 2000 and 2009 anyway?) when The Modeens were new and we decided I should try playing bass. Jamie got me started off right with Carol Kaye lessons and a Squire Bronco but then I quickly graduated to my main squeeze - the Danelectro DanoBlaster in Blue Sparkle. She's my pride and joy on stage. So light and easy to play but brings the THUMP anyway.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/d881a1d13083b6ebd0942b6e1a7793c0dfb1d514/original/10153743-10152307606961142-559805291-n.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>And I've got other wonderful basses in my collection - a Fender Bullet Bass, an old Crown semi-hollow bass from the 60s, a fab silver sparkle Daisy Rock Candy Bass and more. But it's been a while since I put down good money on a quality axe until now. Haven't felt this giddy in a good long while! So without further ado, here's the new kid on the block: the Rickenbacker 4003 Cielo Glo!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/49cbd021f9a146691173ec55fcb61ab9fe6c62a8/original/new-ric.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>This is a limited edition series made for the Chicago Music Exchange that based its colors on the Chicago subway system. There's a lovely purple version called Plum Glo named for the Purple line. But my baby here is the Cielo Glo for the Blue line running from O'Hare Airport. I don't know Chicago that much so it's all Greek to me. But ain't she PURTY??</p>
<p>She's not just a pretty face, though. Plays as well as you would expect from a Rickenbacker and the action is sweet. That's CARIBBEAN rosewood (I didn't know there was such a thing) fretboard on a maple body. The shark fin inlays are super sweet. But it's the color that really got my attention. I saw her hanging in the Used section of Guitar Center and at first was like, Ah, a Ric, that's too pricey. But then the color was so different and so...ME. I seem to gravitate towards blue basses anyway. </p>
<p>The upshot is the price was GREAT and I've been meaning to invest in some gear (and a Christmas gift card from my baby) so I decided to go for it. </p>
<p>The catch: this bass is in perfect condition right now and is SO nice, I don't know if I'd feel comfortable taking it out into public for gigs. One of the reasons I usually gravitate towards cheaper instruments (as long as they sound and play great, I don't care how much it costs). But this one was calling to me, so Imma gonna keep her nice and safe!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50559302018-02-02T09:58:15-07:002020-12-04T00:14:46-07:00blue blood super full moon fever<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/ada2d79c637f38293388fda0c7e4fd42e0627aa5/original/julius-schlosburg-april-moon.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>This photo of the moon was taken by my talented friend <a contents="Julius Schlosburg" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://jpopphoton.com/" target="_blank">Julius Schlosburg</a>.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">“Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of our desire to understand.” </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">-- Neil Armstrong </span></p>
<p>So Wednesday morning was a lunar trifecta: blue moon (second full moon in the same month), super moon (slightly closer to the earth and appears larger) and lunar eclipse (also known as a blood moon). The moon turns red during an eclipse (hence the term "blood moon") due to the Earth's atmosphere. (I'll just take "their" word for it because it was way too early for me to go out and see for myself)</p>
<p>During the lunar eclipse, Earth blocks light from the sun - which is normally reflected by the moon. But the longer wavelengths of the reds and yellows of the spectrum travel for a longer period of time and actually refract <em>around</em> the Earth to fall on the moon, who reflects it back to us. So we block all the other shorter wavelength colors (blues and violets) but the reds still manage to get through. Wild.</p>
<p>I’ve always been crazy about the moon. As a child I would gaze up at night, bathing my young face in its silvery glow. The way it was constantly changing fascinated me and I loved all the phases, not just full. The crescent moon smiles secretly at me like a Cheshire cat. The half moon is laughing. The new moon makes the night darker and more mysterious. But the full moon is still the shining star of the show - and boy, she's burning brightly now!</p>
<p>Some more moon geekery. In astronomy terms, lunar phases happen in Metonic cycles - which is a period of 19 years when the new and full moon will happen on the same day of the year and at the same position. So the last time there was a blue blood moon on January 31st was 1999. In fact, this year will sport two blue moons, which also happened in 1999.</p>
<p>Ah, 1999. All of us 80s kids had been looking forward to this year since Prince sang about it way back when. For me, I was living in New York City. I had moved there with dreams of acting on the Broadway stage. In the meantime, I had gotten temp work for a small startup company called DoubleClick (you may have heard of it). They kept me on as a technical writer and I became a card-carrying member of the dot com bubble. I was making decent money and lived in a tiny apartment in the West Village with cobblestones and frequent Laurie Anderson and Lou Reed sightings. I was living the life. As for acting, I had gone on auditions and was taking classes at Uta Hagen’s HB Studio but nothing was happening.</p>
<p>But 1999 was the year I dusted off my guitar and played the work talent show, only to be noticed by a co-worker who fancied himself a budding producer and offered to record my demo. Soon after that, I would meet my first rock n roll buddies: Duke Rashkow, Michael P Nordberg and Dan Green and suddenly shift my fate back towards music. Which led me to record and release my first album and then meet my future collaborator in life and music, Jamie Laboz. The rest, for me, at least, is history. </p>
<p>Life was so much simpler then - 9/11 hadn’t happened, Sarah Palin and Donald Trump hadn’t happened. It was still the Clinton administration and the government had a surplus budget (remember that?) Seinfeld was just winding down and the Internet was just cranking up. I had yet to move to LA with Jamie, lose my beloved brother, form The Modeens, or move to Tucson. When we flew, we didn’t have to take our shoes off or segregate our liquids or be reminded of the brutalities we’ve enacted on other lands in the name of democracy that brought such awful retaliation. Dubya hadn’t started two wars in the Middle East (that are still going) and we were all so much more innocent then. </p>
<p>And I had stock options. </p>
<p>But a lot of eyes have been opened since then. Many wounds are now healed over with the scars left so we never forget. Jamie and I are celebrating 15 years together and my family has become even stronger and closer. I’ve found my way to writing and dedicating myself even more to the muse of Music and even as I approach my 50th year on this planet - I feel healthier and happier than ever.</p>
<p>I can only imagine what adventures and misadventures you've had, too.</p>
<p>And the moon has been witness to it all. I wonder what she'll see over the next 19 years? A mystery, indeed.</p>
<p>(<a contents="Oh and here's one of my songs about the moon while we're on the subject..." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://cristinawilliams.com/track/1266085/old-desert-moon?feature_id=175122">Oh and here's one of my songs about the moon while we're on the subject...</a>)</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50531862018-01-30T21:25:59-07:002018-01-30T21:25:59-07:00lennon quote<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/aaf0a124358e3d29536da18628cda9a2255752c1/original/john-lennon.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>from one of my favorite modern philosophers.</p>
<p><span class="font_xl">“The more real you get the more unreal the world gets.” </span><br><span class="font_large">― John Lennon</span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 16.8px;">Amen.</span></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50498662018-01-29T10:15:29-07:002018-01-29T10:15:29-07:00stapleton and simpson<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/821a32f1ad9ffa1651b4b028ef456cfa6fbd82a2/original/sturgill-simpson-chris-stapleton.png" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>If we're home, we love to watch Saturday Night Live - even though the writing goes up and down. And the musical guests these days usually leave us scratching our heads "Huh, so _that's_ what the kids are listening to these days?"</p>
<p>But last Saturday featured Chris Stapleton (along with one of my faves Will Ferrell as the host - l'adore!) and so I was looking forward to it. He's a good ol' rocker with an awesome voice and bringing back traditional country and I've been meaning to check him out more.</p>
<p>After Stapleton kicks off the first song in the spotlight, lo and behold I see off to the right side of the band a familiar face: Sturgill Simpson! I'm a big Simpson fan and this last minute addition to the night's music did not dissappoint. Sturgill can PLAY that guitar, yall!</p>
<p>Apparently, Stapleton had posted a video with Sturgill right before the show with the caption ""Tonight we've got some extra Kentucky in NYC," So fun.</p>
<p><strong>"Midnight Train to Memphis"</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dWk0NKu7Eso" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p><strong>"Hard Livin'"</strong></p>
<p><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/dFVfPZeEVOY" width="560"></iframe></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50465382018-01-26T17:20:17-07:002018-01-26T17:20:17-07:00girls just wanna be heard<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/90fac6d10dc62b3eebd84cb20bb9885da291afbf/original/cris-screaming-again.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>My beloved sent me a link to an article on Billboard magazine, <a contents="New Report Shows Major Lack of Representation by Women in the Music Industry" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.billboard.com/articles/news/8096196/new-report-shows-major-lack-representation-women-music-industry">New Report Shows Major Lack of Representation by Women in the Music Industry</a>, and it is an EYE OPENER!</p>
<p>This is a subject I'm of course sensitive to and have been aware of ever since I poked my head into the music industry years and years ago. I remember back in the mid-90s when Lilith Fair was a groundbreaking all female festival and my girlfriends and I were first outraged to learn that it was common 'wisdom' in radio to never play female artists back to back because they just weren't as popular. So I had assumed with the powerful representations of major female artists like Taylor Swift and Beyonce that surely the situation has gotten <em>better</em>, right?</p>
<p>But these are numbers compiled by scientists - these are just regular ol' data points - and to see how they add up in this day and age is staggering.</p>
<p><span class="font_large">"Across six years in the pop charts, females only account for 22% of all artists. And 2017 was a six-year low. This is under what we see in terms of characters in films, substantially under what we see in television. Folks might think that women are actually thriving in music but the data counters that particular way of thinking. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">We found that only 12% of songwriters were women. We also looked at each unique person and their contribution to the sample of 600 songs and found that there are nine male songwriters that account for almost 1/5 of all of the songs in the sample. And giving that much influence of nine males to roughly 1/5 of the work product in the music space was surprising to me. Why is it that nine men are really setting that agenda for cultural consumption? That their ideas about culture, relationships, and experiences are being communicated in these songs? </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Only 2% of all producers are women but more importantly this is a ratio of 49 males to every one female. And across 300 songs, only two female producers of color appear across the sample. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">For me, these three findings really punctuate that there is a lot of work to be done, not only on the artistic side but in regards to who is getting access to content creation as songwriters and producers of content."</span></p>
<p>There so much more information and sheer data in the article and it's worth reading the whole thing. Now there are things the industry could do to make things better. Whether they will or not remains to be seen. But as a female artist who has felt a bit reticent about putting myself out there - well heck, now it's a matter of feminism if nothing else. I see TONS of amazing female artists in Tucson alone so they are out there. And as we find we need to do in almost every other sector of our society we have to make sure our voices are HEARD - literally and figuratively.</p>
<p>YEAH!</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50416692018-01-24T16:14:04-07:002018-01-24T16:14:04-07:00what would neil young do?<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/eeb9e793af5f56cf6b77c5d31ab796603450a1ae/original/img-3259.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><a contents="Austin Kleon" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com">Austin Kleon</a> is one of those artist/writer/bloggers I find myself sharing or posting about more than most (well, when I actually post on social media - been a hermit crab lately). For one thing, I really like his 'blackout' art, where he takes an existing newspaper clipping and blacks out all of the words except for those that turn into a poem. Here's <a contents="Invitations" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com/2018/01/20/invitations/">Invitations</a>:</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/3624690c5e03863bc291050d77c09bb3e95cc830/original/invitations-600x715.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>He's also written books like <a contents="Steal Like an Artist " data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com/steal/">Steal Like an Artist </a>and <a contents="Show Your Work" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com/show-your-work/">Show Your Work</a> and is a big proponent of the notion that art thrives on the works that preceded it - that nothing is really original nor should it be, as long as you bring your own special something to the mix. He also encourages artists to share their work <em>process</em> as well as their product - taking us behind the curtain so to speak (something I'm obviously trying to incorporate in my own blogs). I enjoy his writing and he's a rather clever fellow all around.</p>
<p>Anyhoo, I really resonated with his recent post "<a contents="Remember your heroes" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com/2018/01/09/remember-your-heroes/">Remember your heroes</a>":</p>
<p><span class="font_large"><strong>"I’ve always kept pictures of my heroes above my desk to keep watch over me, like guardian spirits, to remind me who I want to be. These days they help me remember who I wanted to be when I first got started."</strong></span></p>
<p>It makes me think of teenagers plastering their bedroom walls with personal icons that broadcast their own burgeoning identities. When I look at the mish-mash of images I've been posting on the side of the filing cabinet next to my desk, I am currently sporting Sharon Jones (see first photo) and then a bunch of comic book super heroine/villainess magnets (Wonder Woman, Supergirl, Cat Woman, Poson Ivy, etc - and that works too). </p>
<p>But there are some blanks to be filled. Now that we're all digi-fied, I realize I don't have many good old fashioned photos or magazine cutouts like I used to. Now I need to start spelunking for images of Rosanne Cash, Tom Petty, Sturgill Simpson and Neil Young among others. Soulful rebels who never gave an inch. So every time my eyes land in their direction, I can remind myself that even in this Bizarro world of Kardashians and Trumps - true heroes are still needed and it's up to us to make sure they live on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50387882018-01-23T15:38:13-07:002018-01-23T15:38:13-07:00anticipation<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9b7328cbd092aeb0911b9271aebcc5e53c4b46e4/original/432890052-40bf4f48f1-o.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Anticipation. No wine before its time. The longer you wait, the better it'll be. There are so many aphorisms in human culture related to the virtues of waiting. And we need them now more than ever in this "Distraction Attraction" new world of bleeps, bloops, messages, voicemails, pings, pokes Every Minute Of The Day. </p>
<p>But I am especially feeling it with these three tracks Jamie and I are working on for Silver Cloud Express - though it's really Jamie shouldering the burden of smelting the basic tracks we laid in November into pure gold. It's amazing to witness him listening, tweaking, listening, tweaking, over and over again to the same track - to the same 10 seconds of a track. Listening through the monitors, listening outside his studio with the door slightly ajar while he stands on the back porch. Listening to a digital version on a thumb drive on the car stereo (always a prime environment). Then going back to the computer, to fiddle a level here, panning a track there. </p>
<p>He likens it to calibrating a stereo or a really complex EQ. You're just messing with levels. Of course his levels span variables of volume, tempo, different regions of an instrument, effects, keyboards, and then the holistic exercise of seeing the forest for the trees. </p>
<p>How does he do it? It drives me mad when I audio wrangle a couple of tracks for an acoustic demo. I generally just stand in awe.</p>
<p>Oh, and then there's my part. I've laid down the bass - re-did a few parts that Jamie recognized could better support the direction of the song and I always have to push myself because I didn't start playing bass until my thirties. I still have a lot to learn. And lo and behold, the bass is really leading that groove, really being the glue it needs to be now.</p>
<p>The only thing I have left is one vocal for "The Bridge". It's the big one. This is a big ass song and I'm stretching farther on it than I think I ever have. Not so much technically - though there's that too - but really pouring my heart and soul into it. I'm pretty proud I'm at the point where I'm laying down the lead vocals on my own in my studio/office and then handing them off to Jamie. </p>
<p>That's what we're doing with this music - really drilling down, taking our time. Not micro-managing or going for perfection so much as really squeezing the essence of the song and music. Not settling. We know what we're capable and we're seeing how far, how much further we can go. </p>
<p>And it's working, yall. Don't want to say too much, but if things keep going the way they're going, it's gonna be Good.</p>
<p>Of course, I got sick, so I have to wait for my voice to heal up before laying down my last tracks for this collection. Which then gave us an opportunity to re-think the lyrics and after we tweaked them now I have to re-learn them.</p>
<p>So it's mid-January and we're still not finished with three songs. This is the longest we've ever taking with recording. But I feel in my bones it's the right thing to do.</p>
<p>Our next show is a local psychedelic music festival in April and I gotta start raising my head from our work, blinking in the sun, to reach out and get some more gigs. The show must go on.</p>
<p>But in the meantime, this deep work is Everything. I'll let yall know when we're ready to share these new babies!! But..it might take a little more time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Photo "Snail Bomb" by <a contents="Mon Œil" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/claveirole/">Mon Œil</a></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50364872018-01-22T10:23:25-07:002018-01-22T10:23:40-07:00the sweetest thing<p>Happy Moonday! (not a typo - didja know that the word 'Monday' evolved originally from the Latin phrase "dies lunae" or "day of the Moon"?) We have an awesome little hip coffee joint downtown called Exo Roast run by Amy Rude (now Amy Smith, but c'mon Amy Rude is an AWESOME name) and her husband Greg Smith. They both also happen to be great country artists. They built a beautiful rustic-urban space in the back for classes and performances and have started packing it with really cool sounding events that I'm dying to go to and never do. But on Valentine's Day, I won't have a choice because I'm joining a whole slew of fellow female folkish/countryish artists to sing a bunch of sweet country songs in a show called "Sweethearts of the Rodeo". Instead of the usual fodder of heartbreak and death, the night will focus on the sweet side of life. I can't wait - performers are encouraged to go all out country glam (ruffles, long dresses, sequins) or head-to-toe denim. My contribution will be the first song I thought of when Amy announced this idea: Juice Newton's "The Sweetest Thing". This may not be what folks think of as classic country - it's from the 80's after all - but Juice was an underrated country artist and I've always loved this song. I got me some bedazzled denim overalls so I just gotta flesh out the rest of the outfit (sequined cowboy hat?)</p>
<p><strong>Sweethearts of the Rodeo</strong><br>Wednesday, February 14th<br><a contents="Exo Roast" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://exocoffee.com/" target="_blank">Exo Roast</a> 403 N 6th Ave, Tucson</p>
<p> <iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6dvPJZnSCq8" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Damn, she had some great hair. </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50323602018-01-19T10:08:37-07:002018-01-19T10:08:37-07:00your own Golden Age<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/09d87b72d6b2af41e04ca374230d6f99705ebd85/original/patti-smith-a01.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><em>I believe that we, that this planet, hasn’t seen its Golden Age. Everybody says its finished … art’s finished, rock and roll is dead, God is dead. Fuck that! This is my chance in the world. I didn’t live back there in Mesopotamia, I wasn’t there in the Garden of Eden, I wasn’t there with Emperor Han, I’m right here right now and I want now to be the Golden Age …if only each generation would realise that the time for greatness is right now when they’re alive … the time to flower is now. </em></p>
<p>- Patti Smith</p>
<p>I love this quote from Patti. It's so easy to grumble about the good ol' days and the bleakness of the future. So easy to just drift along in your cotton-packed shell, railing against the Powers that Be that keep on keeping us down.</p>
<p>But we all have our power and we all can spark our own Golden Age. And when you lose sight of that, fall into a slipstream of 'Life Happens' and then wake up, blinking, wondering where your Path went, you can just rub the cobwebs from your eyes, find the breadcrumbs and get back to it - one step at a time.</p>
<p>I just lost 15 days of this blog - a tragic, sudden death in the family and I was swept off my path by waves of emotions and Figuring Shit Out. Then finding anchor through the love and wisdom of my family and friends. No apologies. No hand wringing. I'm back and ready to get back to it.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50074892018-01-04T16:28:42-07:002018-01-04T16:28:42-07:00Ol' Tom: The Long Road to Simple FolkMusic Guitar<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/81f186268de19316b5d4a5c325a80dbda613f008/original/img-3722.jpg" class="size_orig justify_left border_" /></p>
<p><em>Here's another stream of folk consciousness from my veteran folk singer dad, Ol' Tom. It's brought up a lot of my own thoughts of what it means to make good ol' simple music that I'll post another time. Enjoy!</em></p>
<p>as I sat on the porch playing "PRETTYBOY FLOYD", "THE COO COO", "NO MORE CANE ON THE BRAZOS" and "SOUTHCOAST" I thought about how much I enjoyed acoustic guitar, most of all when played simply. I thought back many years ago. a bud played a disc called HOOTENANNY WITH THE HIGHWAYMEN. I laughed at the thought 'cause a guy named Gil Robbins was in the group, and I've enjoyed watching his son in various movies through the years. we'd just listened to a Buddy Holly record. I loved Buddy and his sincere and beautiful lyrics. then, I heard that "folkmusic" album. I loved it. I told my bud, we oughta do that kinda music. we'd been doin' barbershop quartet things for several years, but couldn't find two other singers. I said, I just wanta learn simple guitar playing. yipes! that year I turned 15, and now, I'm 68! and I'm still workin' on playin' "simple" guitar. the road has been long. it's very hard for people who love guitar to stop "stealin' licks", watchin' other people play and diggin' new sounds. and, the early '60's through the early '70's was INFLAMED with guitars. folkmusic, british rock, folk rock, acid rock, singer-songwriters, southern rock and early "heavy metal" flashed on the scene. "folk" people often ran across blues, and picked up some of dat, and the rock sounds of the Beatles, and Dylan moving away to a more electric sound and the wonderous technique of guitar gods like Clapton was highly influential. in the case of acoustic types, some exceptional players were drawn toward bluegrass (HEAVY METAL HICK) or verrry advanced fingerpicking styles. if you just wanted to "strum along", you were quickly passed by. I confess my many sins. I played in several bluegrass bands, and I played in several rock bands. one,the last, was called THE FOUR TARDIES, it was a faculty band featuring A, B, C and yours trooly, none of the above. it was composed of aged rocking highschool teachers! I confess to doin' some songwriter stuff too. but, I still valued those old joan baez, judy collins, josh white, tom rush, dylan and eric darling discs. they were, and are still, very good and moving music. if you liked early dylan, you would do well to listen to Woody Guthrie. if ma, pa or the grandfolks didn't play guitar, you are most probably a city-bred picker. that makes you special! you embraced folk music. you didn't get it by default. and, you get to bring all sorts of insights to the music. those insights keep the tradition alive! rave on troubadour. lack of electricity, fame or money don't keep you from helpin' keep arcane knowledge, traditions and human feelings alive. sooo, what about simple guitar? aha, mysimple guitar has gained texture and soul (that once counted for much!) along my road. hidden within are "double hammer-ons", "bass runs", "pull-offs", glissing and upstrokes, and....open tunings. I think the most important key to simple guitar is empty spaces, between notes, sometimes between chords. 'member 'bout how you chose folk music? if you gained in yer musical travel, you kin choose how and where you place that chord position. you can change words! steal tunes! maybe even, careful here, take a melody or counterpoint guitar break. I remember on a johnny cash tribute collection, a player changed the verse "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die!" the verse was changed to "they say I shot a man in Reno, but that was just a lie." some people were outraged! johnny would have liked that. he was a free man and a free musician, and more of a folksinger than many would acknowledge. and, like woodie and others, he was not interested in guitar technique, rather, guitar to help him say who he was and what needed to be said about people, problems and hopes. sooo, plunk that D chord, reach over for that greasy G, and just how will I play the A? regular first position? "long country" A (you know, little finger down on the first string at the 5th), or, a bar chord A! (hey, maybe leave off the first string in thebar.) see, simple can take many forms. now, about chords, I know fred neil got annointed by some heavenly messenger. where did he get those cascades of lush "cowboy" chords? and, I know that buddy holly doin' "raining in my heart" is mystical. as mystical as a well tuned old beat-up guitar played simply, with nobody there, but you. daddy</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50049142018-01-03T10:20:51-07:002018-01-03T10:20:51-07:00American Boy<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/2c698952e19f91478dc562cb975a2a1db2f3919b/original/petty1.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><em>I know it's taken me a while to express this ode to one of my favorite musicians of all time, but I am the tortoise, not the hare. So here goes (profanity warning ahead): </em></p>
<p>What the hell? Tom Petty is no more. What? Wait, what? This just isn’t right. Petty is woven into the denim fabric of my musical heritage - he seeped in from the car radio in our old station wagon as I bumped along over Jacksonville roads in the back seat. He growled out of my dashboard when I was newly cruising down Beach Boulevard on my own, young and trying to be free. He defied authority on my television screen with psychedelic videos during the Reagan era and beyond. How can he be gone? </p>
<p>Goddammit. </p>
<p>He was a fellow Floridian (along with band mates Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench - don’t forget those rock stars) but Petty took the boy out of the Deep South without ever truly taking the Deep South out of the boy. And that is no mean trick. </p>
<p>Ah, but I have so many songs to wrap myself up in. Yes, not just the early breakout work and that ultimate rock benchmark - <em>Damn the Torpedoes</em>. But the later solo work too - <em>Full Moon Fever,</em> <em>Southern Accent,</em> <em>Echo</em>, that soundtrack he did for <em>She’s the One</em>. </p>
<p>And damn, his integrity and fuck you attitude will outlive us all - they certainly outlived an entire industry. My mantra has become “What Would Tom Petty Do?” </p>
<p>And what would Tom do? Maybe I don’t have his balls but I can still aspire. Don’t listen to the men in suits - do it for the love, do it for the money, but don’t do it for the love of the money (which is Daddy's favorite saying, but it fits here). </p>
<p>He’s an Archangel of Rock now - jamming with John and George, crooning with Roy, shooting the shit with Elvis and maybe beaming down his musical backbone to those of us left behind - bobbing in his wake. Cause the world still needs him - maybe now more than ever. </p>
<p>So here’s praying for a new generation of stubborn, rebellious awesome songwriters and musicians doing it their way - which just happens to be Fucking Rock n Roll. </p>
<p>I’ll leave you with a video from his Full Moon Fever (with one of my favorite Campbell solos ever!) that looks like what I think he’s doing right now: </p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Y1D3a5eDJIs" width="560"></iframe></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/50029222018-01-02T09:35:43-07:002018-01-02T09:35:43-07:00Happy New Year!<p>Yes, I took a few days away from my computer as 2017 wound down. It was pretty delicious! It's been a very sweet holiday after all - I felt like I was stepping away from the "shoulder to boulder" mode for a minute and drinking in my home, my family, life. With a fair amount of cookies. And now I'm ready to put away the decorations (and cookies) and get back to Work. I'm not big on resolutions, but I do think goals are important and here's my goal for 2018: write more songs.</p>
<p>For the first time, a few days ago, I decided to tally up the songs I wrote and recorded in 2017. And the list was pretty small. I've been generating songs, writing lyrics and starting a LOT. But as far as finishing them - not so much. Oh, okay, I'll go ahead and write it out: three. I finished three songs in all of 2017. As for recording songs - that tally was better: 4 solo songs (posted on this here site) and 6 songs for Silver Cloud Express (three for a live radio show and three studio tracks that are turning out amazing and I can't wait to show yall!). But three songs written? Oof.</p>
<p>Now I'm a tortoise as opposed to a hare - I do tend to take time over songs, brooding over a lyric choice here, debating on a major or minor chord there. But life is short and songwriters write songs and I'm a songwriter. I know I can do better.</p>
<p>So for 2018, my goal is to finish at least 12 new songs - songs that I think are good enough to play for other people or record, either solo or with SCX or that work well for licensing purposes - that I'm proud of. And that means writing much more than 12 songs - because nobody always writes awesome songs. So ideally, I would finish a song each week - so that should give me around 50 songs to choose from. Oh geez, my heart just skipped a beat seeing that number - but it's a goal. And it would be a very cool thing to hit that.</p>
<p>My main obstacle to this goal is perfectionism. It takes me a looooong time before I even let Jamie hear a new tune of mine. And I need to get over it. Nobody's going to like everything I do - but if I like it, that's going to have to be good enough.</p>
<p>Ack - as soon as I hit publish on this post - it makes it all official-like, which is scary! But you don't achieve anything really cool without scaring yourself a little, or at least getting a little uncomfortable. </p>
<p>So here's to a new year of making way more new music! And here's to another trip around the sun full of possibilities for us all! </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49956082017-12-27T11:45:12-07:002017-12-27T11:45:12-07:00the lovely in-between<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/f200df8c019c7dffddfbef498315358ea3b1d458/large/the-wonderling.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Just swooping in here post-Christmas so that I don't totally forget how to write during this lovely in-between time. I work for a university (not as a professor, but as part of an associated research division) and one of the lovely benefits is that EVERYBODY gets winter recess off - the time between Christmas and New Year's day. I'm actually being somewhat productive: Jamie is still chugging away at some new Silver Cloud Express recordings which means I'm popping in every now and then to lay down new bass and vocal tracks. Plus it's a good time to declutter, organize, do a little winter cleaning.</p>
<p>But what I love to do MOST in this in-between is reading. Ahhhh. I just re-read the first Harry Potter book - which is perfect for a 'magical' time of year - and am also chugging through a borrowed copy of David Byrne's <em>How Music Works</em>. When I'm finished, I'll be sure to do a whole book review post because it is Very Interesting!</p>
<p>But there's also a sweet little children's novel I secretly bought for myself <em>The Wonderling</em> by Mira Bartok, about a "home for wayward and misbegotten creatures" which seems delightfully similar to Wind in the Willows that I believe I'll be cracking open soon. Oh, and I just finished Volume 1 of <em>The Chilling Tales of Sabrina the Teenage Witch</em> - a beautifully evil revision of the Archie's spinoff comic - and it really <em>is</em> chilling! Yeah, I like my reading material to go all over the place.</p>
<p>And then there might be some daytime (gasp!) TV watching - in particular, I want to continue weaving through more episodes of "Escape to the Country" on Netflix - which is like House Hunters but specifically in country villages in England. And they are ALL GORGEOUS! Fluffy lambs grazing on countrysides, little hobbit houses, pubs everywhere you go, charming pink rose vines clambering over thatched rooftops. Every episode has had me going "Awwww" every five minutes or so. Excellently relaxing.</p>
<p>There's still a bit of monkey mind nagging at me (don't you have something USEFUL you could be doing instead?) But heck, if you can't lollygag this week, I just don't know when. Things will get super busy again soon. And I _am_ due to lay down some lead vocals later today, so that is plenty useful in my world.</p>
<p>I do hope you're able to do your own version of quiet lollygagging yourself. It's a sweet, low pressure time after what can be a crazy-making season. Let's all of us make the most of it!</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49902382017-12-22T15:43:15-07:002017-12-22T15:43:15-07:00another holiday video playlist<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/995073a9772b7221c5b9e124eff70cf8be44dcd0/large/img-3478.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Oh, sure everyone's doing it. But what the heck, I don't see these listed anywhere, so this is what I'm bringing to the holiday turntable!</p>
<p><strong>Jill Sobule's version of "Merry Christmas From the Family" </strong> - originally penned by Robert Earl Keen, Jill's version of a redneck trailer park kinda' Christmas was the first one I heard and it's still one of my favorite Xmas tunes:</p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/wUwezGMnxt8" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>and you know what, the original version is cool too, so here you go:</p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/P37xPiRz1sg" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>Then there's <strong>Emmylou Harris </strong>- who can sing anything and you'd be glad for it. This time it's an oldie but a goodie <strong>"O Little Town of Bethlehem"</strong>:</p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YaZEDxdutCk" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>Because just yesterday I waxed nostalgic about covering this song, here's <strong>Jackson Five's version of Up On the Housetops</strong>:</p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lYWwT2u0cCI" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>And of course I can't forget my girl, <strong>Rosanne Cash</strong>'s beautiful rendition of <strong>It Came Upon a Midnight Clear</strong> from one of my favorite holiday albums "Acoustic Christmas":</p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3GPc21FktgU" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p>And now a plea that no matter how crazy or rushed you may feel, don't go into Christmas Countdown! mode. Just brew some tea or hot chocolate, take a cleansing breath, then kick back and listen to something that makes you happy.</p>
<p>Oh, and <strong>HAPPY HOLIDAYS!</strong></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49883262017-12-21T13:58:56-07:002017-12-21T14:04:25-07:00sonic solstice<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/38d8030f6f923e5a2f65ff772dc4548dd9aac1a0/large/11484097606-129a4ee890-k.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Today is the shortest day of the year - celebrated since humans had fire to fight back against the dark. It also reminds me of a lovely solstice day Jamie and I had a few years back in 2009. It was one of the early iterations of <a contents="The Modeens" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.themodeens.com" target="_blank">The Modeens</a>, with our good friend Fen Ikner on drums. Local radio station <a contents="KXCI" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.kxci.org" target="_blank">KXCI</a> had invited us to join their <em>Sonic Solstice</em> program that day - a program of all local musicians playing their versions of Christmas carols. We had just started playing in town, so we felt like the new kids in school. My favorite of the covers we did is the Jackson Five’s “Up on the Housetops”. It’s always a little nerve-wracking performing shows live on the radio like that - but it was really merry and fun. </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/3431e8864d7b4674f6436a37de8f1d5a97072ff8/original/2009-sonic-solstice.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>And KXCI has always been a homey place for local musicians. Awesome regulars like Cathy Rivers, Amanda Shauger, and Michael Serpe were there. And there were friends like Lisa Healey with her ah-mazingly strong rum balls! Dr. Dan and Laurie Starr interviewed us afterwards - I believe Fen made a joke about reindeer steaks - and then we walked down to the Red Room afterwards (to celebrate getting through three songs we barely knew). </p>
<p>Luke had kitted out the place with little platters of fruitcake and special cheeses, the bar was decked with candles and evergreens and they had just started putting the sheet up on the wall where they would soon screen Christmas movies. There was no shopping involved, no blaring jingles or ads. No desperate expectations. We were just hanging out with good people in good cheer. And that’s enough to lighten any darkness. </p>
<p><strong>I wish the same for you, my friend. </strong></p>
<p><em>KXCI is doing it again! Their 16th Sonic Solstice features Calexico's Joey Burns, Brian Lopez, Jane West, Eb Eberlein, Juju Fontaine and the Chaparral Kirtan Band. You can listen in locally at 91.3 FM or streamed online at <a contents="www.kxci.org." data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.kxci.org" target="_blank">www.kxci.org.</a> </em></p>
<p>Happy Winter Solstice, everybody! Let your heart be light.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Top photo by <a contents="https://www.flickr.com/photos/tusnelda/" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/tusnelda/" target="_blank">https://www.flickr.com/photos/tusnelda/</a></em></p>
<p><em>Bottom photo by Lisa Healey</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49861732017-12-20T10:27:12-07:002017-12-20T10:27:12-07:00one step closer<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/0ea51393f60831ce07fd92f50302d56f1c10faa3/large/9143453078-632a1ce422-o.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Here I am staring at a blank screen, wondering. What do you want to hear from me? What do you want me to write about? What can I do for you? Tell you a little about my writing process? (I feel a little 'ding' in my tummy) Ok.</p>
<p>It's something I've been working on for a couple of years now. It all started when I realized that I had hardly written a new song in ages. Daddy would ask me about my latest song and for the longest time I'd have no good answer. Jamie and I would be jamming on some new band songs and he'd be contributing left and right but I would feel like I had nothing to offer.</p>
<p>C'mon, I'm busy! With work, with just trying to keep up with the normal demands of an adult who feels the 'normal' obligations to pay my bills, do my job well, keep the house from falling apart and remember to call my mother every day or so. All of those things are not necessarily easy for me. (<span style="display: none;"> </span>And I don't even have kids! I can't even imagine how you parents begin to cope.)<span style="display: none;"> </span> <span style="display: none;"> </span>Hell, it wasn't until the advent of online bill paying that I really started to get my financial life under control (hallelujah!) but that's another story for another time. <span style="display: none;"> </span></p>
<p>So I was shuffling along, getting the normal things done. But at some point you have to remember who you are - what is it that you're supposed to do. And among other things, I know that I'm a songwriter. I write and perform songs. Have done since I was knee high to a grasshopper. And when I go for a long time without doing it, I get this low angry hum in the pit of my stomach, like a ball of bees. As Rosanne Cash put it "If I ignore my work, I start having anxiety attacks."</p>
<p><span style="display: none;"> </span>So I finally started focusing on at least doing a little each day (or so). First thing in the morning, I sit to meditate for a few minutes and then write at least one lyric down. Often times, my pen keeps moving - sometimes it doesn't. But by taking that first required action, sometimes the machine kicks in and wheels start turning. Or more lyrics and snatches of music will flow through my head throughout the day (hold on, hold on a sec! where's my friggen pen?!!) And so I'll just keep working on songs even if I'm not sure they're any good. It's a snail's pace, but it keeps me moving forward.<span style="display: none;"> </span></p>
<p>The flip side is that when I stop ignoring my work, and start working on new songs and writing again (even for this blog!) I get a different kind of anxiety: am I ever going to write a good song again? is this song stupid? what do I have to say? is it stupid? (lots of variations on whether or not what I'm doing at the moment is stupid)<span style="display: none;"> </span></p>
<p>But it's temporary because at some point I get to the end of the song or the story and when it's done - whether or not it's any good - I get some kind of dopamine hit. A healthier junkie's high.<span style="display: none;"> </span> And anyway, at least I'm trying. At least I'm holding the bad bees at bay. <span style="display: none;"> </span>At least I'm taking another step toward my dharma.<span style="display: none;"> </span><span style="display: none;"> </span><span style="display: none;"> </span></p>
<p>And that one new step is good enough. As long as I take another one tomorrow. And the next day. And the next...</p>
<p> </p>
<p><a contents="Stepping into the Estuary by&nbsp;Stewart Ayrey" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/stewartayrey/" target="_blank">Stepping into the Estuary by Stewart Ayrey</a></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49850202017-12-19T17:33:55-07:002017-12-19T17:33:55-07:00what could be simpler right now?<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/cefd1aa041cf12c88c9322fa9424bdd9aae249a8/original/16109416104-f3dbd974a8-o.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" />Horoscopes to me are more like that idea of holding a question in your mind, then opening a book at a random page and blindly pointing to passage to find your answer. If the writer is interesting, then you're bound to find an interesting message or a sudden click of neurons inspiring an answer to some inward puzzle. It may not be magic per se, but it still has it's uses .</p>
<p>Lately, I've been checking out the horoscope of the week by <a contents="naimonu james" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://naimonujames.com/" target="_blank">naimonu james</a> - I've completely forgotten whose random Instagram post led me her way. But I like the way she writes. Anyhoo, this week's reading of my sun sign, Cancer, could probably apply to all of us - but in my juggling madness, it's definitely calling to me right now:</p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#555555;">while you work, where could there be more ease? what could be simpler right now? what small details could make a big difference in allowing you to flow day to day with less stress? where have you spread yourself too thin?</span></strong></p>
<p>Um, where have I not spread myself too thin? That's a hard one to answer. but I've been trying to be more open to ease vs the Catholic martyrdom I'm much more used to. Combined with the Protestant work ethic our country is famous for. But the pendulum might be swinging the other way. Now I'm seeing more and more slogans like: Get more done by doing less. Work smarter, not harder.</p>
<p>Well that would be quite the magic trick. But I'm intrigued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Illustration by E Schlemo</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49836292017-12-18T21:04:00-07:002017-12-18T21:04:00-07:00soul of a woman<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/b4578d0481fae0c31550370dac202c5b57d79dcd/original/a3482857760-10-750x750.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>This is the time of year when I feel her absence the most. As I put on my favorite holiday album, <a contents="It's a Holiday Soul Party" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://shopdaptonerecords.com/collections/sharon-jones/products/its-a-holiday-soul-party" target="_blank">It's a Holiday Soul Party</a>, I think on one of the greatest singers in the last couple of decades (if not longer).</p>
<p>Sharon Jones - the queen of modern soul, from her humble gospel roots in Augusta, Georgia through a long session career as a backup vocalist (and corrections officer at Rikers) in relative obscurity until a Brooklyn duo gave her a shot which led to the birth of the Dap-Tone Kings (as Sharon's backing band) and Daptone Records (which along with Jones, released Amy Winehouse and Charles Bradley).</p>
<p>One of the first CDs Jamie burned for me when we first started dating was Sharon Jones' second album "<em>Dap Dippin' with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings</em>". I'd never heard of her but was immediately hooked. It was old school soul with a female James Brown - and then some. We got to check out her show a few times between New York and LA and she always BROUGHT IT! So much energy. So much sheer love outta that petite woman. And always dancing barefoot as she boogied down on stage. </p>
<p>When I learned she had cancer, I couldn't believe it would take her. She's too strong, dammit. She practically beams energy! She even fought it back and started touring again - proudly wearing her bald head like a crown. But the evil disease returned and then last year's election results were literally too much for her and she passed away from multiple strokes. (And I will always blame him for her death, rational or no.)</p>
<p>She barely had ten years in the spotlight - for many artists that's more than you could even dream of. But it just seemed too short for a giant soul like hers.</p>
<p>In honor of Miss Sharon Jones, here's a trailer of her latest album that just came out and that I will be treating myself with for Christmas: <a contents="Soul of a Woman" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://shopdaptonerecords.com/products/soul-of-a-woman" target="_blank">Soul of a Woman</a>. Bless you Sharon, and may you finally be Dap Dippin' with Jesus now.</p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ipynkBxtMOc" width="560"></iframe></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49792612017-12-15T12:17:38-07:002017-12-15T12:17:38-07:00guitar picks for the soul<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/bb5ca19390520281226c1f5bf6060c92f7b8330e/large/img-4049.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>My dad is a poet/writer and from time to time he sends around something cool by email (<a contents="and sometimes I&nbsp;turn them into songs!" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://cristinawilliams.com/blog/blog/cactus-before-and-after">and sometimes I turn them into songs!</a>) Here's one of his stream of consciousness jack-kerouac-meets-william-faulkner pieces about that ubiquitous tool of most guitar players, the pick:</p>
<hr><p>guitar picks are an often overlooked area of knowledge. first off, they are a larval form of plastic coathangers. think, and you kin see that it's true! picks keep vanishing, and your closet gets more and more full of those dang hangers! they must taste good. many guitar players keep 'um in their mouth. it's a handy place, and I was told way early that such storage added to the flexibility of said gadgets. do the red picks taste like WILD CHERRY? but, I digress. they are produced in various thicknesses, colors, shapes and even modified versions. in the the '50's and '60's some plectrums (yankee talk for picks) sported cork rings or pads, rubber bands. or even molded thumb grips. picks will sometimes fly off yer thumb, and they will break from time-to-time. bluegrass and heavy metal music being sometimes prey to the latter. old timers often use a knife to crosshatch picks to avoid the former. thin picks are tricky to use. they make slappy sounds if abused, and heavy picks make buddy holly licks nigh impossible. the medium is a utilitarian way to go. now, the tip of the pick is not the only part that is useful. the rounded top edge offers tonal alternatives. also, a little work with a file can recover worn down points. shapes! hummm, the old 351 teardrop is standard. rounded and angular triangles are exhibited, but not frequently, and those little tiny mandolin picks? maybe somebody uses 'em, I never saw it. now, picks hide on carpets, between sofa cushions and fly into incredible hidden places given the chance. a bright "clown vomit" pick, or pink pick can save yer knees from clawlin' on the floor! tortoise colored picks can hide in broad daylight! you cannot get too many guitar picks. "picknappers" will rip you off, and yer main squeeze will knock 'em behind yer dresser while "dusting". this is revenge and don't let'um fool you. if you announce out loud, "this is my fav-o-rite pick", it will vanish within two days. 'no appeal, that's the LAW! keep a nice jar, with top, as a pick safe. if you are a real "picker" you'll often look at 'em like goldfish, or dump 'em out to look at them. the really odd, old or pretty picks, YOU WILL NEVER USE. once more, that's the LAW. picks like watchpockets. that's the little pocket you keep quarters or bus tokens in that are part of yer bluejeans. if you got a smile on yer face, a knife in yer pocket and a pick in yer "watchpocket" you kin feel safe. also, I have a bud who distains thumbpicks. he holds a flatpick (oldtime talk) wid his thumb and index finger, and uses his "old man finger" and "little finger" for "travis pickin'", "cotton pickin'" or 'most any black country blues stuff.! hey, django reinhardt used a button for a pick! yep, I've seen people use a quarter, a plastic spoon and a haircomb to make good music! now for the final french fry. the best wisdom I can offer is (drumroll), fool about wid yer pick using the index and middle finger and thumb while waitin' in any line or office. this is very needful for new guitar players. you kin "feel" the road through tires in yer vehicle, right? 'same for getting the "feel"of the string array through yer pick. I've read WWII fighter pilots claim to have "felt" bullet or cannon hits in their aircraft wings. you might try watchin' TV holdin' yer axe. get comfortable wid it. hey, anybody, yer lover, mom, boss (oh crap!) ever say "put that damn thing down. I wanta talk"! cool, and good for yer chops! become ONE WITH YOUR TOOLS.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Photo is mine - my current preferred picks for acoustic guitar</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49771842017-12-14T10:33:36-07:002017-12-14T10:33:36-07:00light in the dark<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/3598d86ca28f3c65ba67587df88191172a712730/large/5245747027-302d585850-o.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Even as the Arizona sun keeps shining down on us during our unusually warm December, I like to reflect on the meaning of winter holidays like Christmas and Hanukkah, Winter Solstice rituals and all the ways different cultures celebrate light during the darkest days of the year.</p>
<p>I was listening to one of <a contents="Cathy Heller's podcasts" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.dontkeepyourdayjob.com/" target="_blank">Cathy Heller's podcasts</a> and she was telling the story of Hanukkah - the miracle that after a devastating battle and before returning home the soldiers' lamp burned for 8 nights when there was only enough oil for one. This story is well known but then Cathy told how a friend mentioned how amazing it was that they lit the lamp at all. That after such destruction and chaos and tragedy, they still wanted that light burning before doing anything else, even going back home. </p>
<p>I was touched because I didn't grow up with Hanukkah - our family celebrated Christmas and I've always loved its magical, child-like aspects. Compared to the all encompassing nature of the US Christmas Extravaganza, Hanukkah seems a much simpler celebration. And I've known many folks brought up in the Jewish faith to kinda slough it off as no big deal - especially compared to splendor and 'wow' of Christmas trees and Christmas morning and all. My hubby is Jewish, which made me pay more attention - even more than he probably would on his own!</p>
<p>But now I realized that this holiday is really all about <strong>light</strong>. Christmas, of course, is also about light - usually in a literal sense, with all the decorative lights strung inside and outside of homes and streets and town centers. And for Christians, there's the light of the Star of Bethlehem guiding the Three Kings and the light of the infant Jesus being born. But it all gets buried under the sheer weight of social obligations and intense schedules and stress and busy-ness.</p>
<p>Whereas the main symbol of Hanukkah is the menora with its many lights building on each other for over a week, each candle marking an ancient miracle. And whether or not you believe the literal story, the symbolism is the beautiful part. Each light adds to the others to make the darkness a little brighter. Each candle lights another without diminishing its own flame. And that's us - or how we could be. Shining our own light, lighting up others' and creating a warm glow when the world otherwise seems so dark. And then going on shining even beyond what we thought we were capable of. And these days, we need as much of each others' light as possible!</p>
<p>So this season, let's celebrate our own light and the light in each other. Especially in our woefully divisive country, let's find that flicker of love and humanity that shines - even if dimly - in all of us. And if we can't see someone else's light, maybe there's some small way that you can send a spark of Love that will ignite in their heart without dimming your own flame.</p>
<p>Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, stay bright so we can all find our paths into a new year and possibly even a new world.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Photo by <a contents="Avital Pinnick" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/spindexr/" target="_blank">Avital Pinnick</a></em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49752492017-12-13T10:12:58-07:002021-09-16T23:18:35-07:00Laura Marling<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/280a2edaa1e61612f1e4a5dd32dda4c096b5fe6d/original/marling.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>File this under "where did this artist come from?" Another slow burn who's finally getting some notice - right now in the form of a Grammy nomination for Best Folk Album. I subscribe to the <a contents="Americana Music Association" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://americanamusic.org/" target="_blank">Americana Music Association</a> mailing list - which by the way is a TREASURE TROVE of current Americana artists. They publish a weekly list of new releases and posted the list of nominations for this year's awards related to Americana genres and there was this name I'd never seen before: <a contents="Laura Marling" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.lauramarling.com/" target="_blank">Laura Marling</a></p>
<p>First stop, Spotify where I started listening to her latest album, <em>Semper Femina</em>, and was instantly hooked. Lovely voice with character - great melodies, lyrics and production. Not necessarily screaming "NOW" but not dated. Though she DOES make me think of Sandy Denny from Fairport Convention and Dusty Springfield. Cool...</p>
<p>Next stop, Google. Who is Laura Marling? Well, according to Wikipedia, she's British, been putting out albums since 2008 and is not even thirty. She's gotten some UK-related awards - the Mercury Prize* (sort of the British version of the Grammys) and from two of their major music mags, <a contents="Q" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.qthemusic.com/" target="_blank">Q</a> and <a contents="NME" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.nme.com/" target="_blank">NME</a>. But not much of a toehold across the pond (yet). Maybe she's too good for American audiences? I don't want to think so - but she's the antithesis of the uber-molded divas or intentionally quirky indie songstresses we export. Still, she's nominated for a Grammy so <em>somebody</em> in this country has heard of her. </p>
<p>It doesn't matter of course - I think she's amazing. It's been a while since I've been taken by a new singer-songwriter (aside from my current favorite country artist, Margot Price) so it feels good to be a fan girl for someone still up-and-coming. <a contents="Check her album out for yourself. (and of course if you fall for it, consider buying it!)" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvvVCeJuFWNcBwALYRIgmOB8thzvLecJg" target="_blank">Check her album out for yourself. (and of course if you fall for it, consider buying it!)</a></p>
<p>Here's my fave song of her so far (a Dusty Springfield-like ballad set to a drum machine - brilliant!) Enjoy!</p>
<p><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" gesture="media" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ig402O7Tff8" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p>* Short rant: Oh good Lord, it's now called the Hyundai Mercury Prize. I'm sorry, but I can't stand the modern convention that corporate sponsorship means they have to shove their name awkwardly into the title. Same gripe with sports arenas called "Citibank". Ugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Photo credit: Gus Philippas</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49734812017-12-12T10:21:44-07:002021-02-10T23:12:44-07:00the sound of space<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/1b7d5ed27ddb74a74c0ff289b522dacb5be978d7/large/9467312978-6304a89024-k.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>The sound of space</p>
<p>The not-hum of the world just existing</p>
<p>The sound of the In Between</p>
<p>In between breaths</p>
<p>In between thoughts</p>
<p>In between one breeze and the next.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sometimes called "negative"</p>
<p>But it's not</p>
<p>It's just Everything Else</p>
<p>So much more than our animal brains can comprehend</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sound of space</p>
<p>That buoyant moment when the world stops Doing</p>
<p>Sometimes for the barest nanosecond</p>
<p>Sometimes forever</p>
<p>And you don't have to fill it with your nonsense words anymore</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And I am just one</p>
<p>But I am not done</p>
<p>I am just one</p>
<p>But I am not yet done</p>
<p>I am not done Not Doing</p>
<p>Until each moment stops following the next</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a contents='Image "A Grazing Encounter Between Two Spiral Galaxies" from NASA' data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/nasacommons/9467312978/" target="_blank">Image "A Grazing Encounter Between Two Spiral Galaxies" from NASA</a></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49718082017-12-11T09:59:07-07:002017-12-11T09:59:07-07:00now<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/669835b2cb4778f01dc5ef338b4a2c28759ba5ba/original/a2550786045-10.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>So this is something interesting I came across - the idea of a <a contents="Now page" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://nownownow.com/about" target="_blank">Now page</a>. Derek Sivers - the man behind CDBaby and many other Internet ventures who is now more of an international wandering philosophizer - came up with the idea. I'm not sure how far it's spread, but I really like it. I'm doing some website updates soon which will include such a page - but for NOW (heh) here's my crazy jumble of what I'm trying to do:</p>
<h3>Silver Cloud Express EP </h3>
<p><a contents="Silver Cloud Express" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/silvercloudexpress/">Silver Cloud Express</a> is the new band that my hubby, Jamie Laboz, and I are in. Before that we'd been <a contents="The Modeens" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.themodeens.com" target="_blank">The Modeens</a> for over 10 years and were just ready for a rebirth. Last year, we started doing some shows with drummer Daniel Patrick focusing on some of the more 'psychedelic' rock songs in our repertoire. Downtown Radio has been really supportive - having us on for their <a contents="live Downtown Sessions back in April" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.downtownradio.org/html/sessions.html" target="_blank">live Downtown Sessions back in April</a> with amazing engineer <a contents="Jim Waters at his Waterworks Studio" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.waterworksrecording.com/" target="_blank">Jim Waters at his Waterworks Studio</a>. We clicked hard with Jim and decided to do a short recording project - just three songs. We laid them down mid-November and now Jamie's almost finished mixing the first tune, "Color Of My Dreams", which is becoming so epic, I do a happy dance every time I hear it back. Next up are "The Bridge" and "Dark Light" which I sing lead on so I'm prepping myself vocally (which is almost more of a mental exercise than physical). </p>
<h3>Solo Songs </h3>
<p>Last April I recorded the songs currently on the website - now I 've got to get through the ever-growing backlog of songs. I'm demo-ing some at home right now - laying down vocals and guitars - then I'll be sending them to Jamie. After he's finished with the SCE tracks - I've asked him to just go to town with what I send him. I'm interested in expanding beyond normal 'Americana' production - steering more into the <a contents="Sturgill Simpson's Metamodern Sounds in Country Music" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://sturgillsimpson.bandcamp.com/releases" target="_blank">Sturgill Simpson's Metamodern Sounds in Country Music</a> vibe - something more cosmic and spacious. We'll see. But in any case, the challenge is finding the bits of time to lay down my tracks (I'm a slow engineer) and NOT GETTING BOGGED DOWN TRYING TO GET IT PERFECT! That is my personal bugaloo. </p>
<h3>Licensing </h3>
<p>Being a full-time music composer for almost 15 years, Jamie's the one in the family with all the licensed songs (though I've got a couple of my own) but I'm interested in pushing some of my songs for TV and movies, possibly even ads. The palette of songs being used in these mediums are really impressive these days. A lot of shows rely on an excellent soundtrack to help tell their stories - and when you actually delve into shows needing music (especially if you don't watch a ton of TV anyway) it's incredible to see just how many outlets are out there. To be clear, I'm not really interested in writing something I wouldn't want associated with myself as an artist - like a corny jingle (not that there's anything wrong with that) but I'm realizing that there's many aspects of my songwriting that could totally fit with someone's storytelling. So that's what I'm investigating. </p>
<p>And of course, still trying to be a productive member of society in my mysterious day job and a good partner, daughter, sister, aunt, friend. Wish me luck! </p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49684312017-12-08T09:53:29-07:002017-12-08T09:53:29-07:00Friday inspo: Every Moment<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/4d4eae376f2bd77f80ea411d5c421b65a3861ad3/original/2149022579-1bf57208de-b.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><em>From one of those effervescent thoughts that bubble to the surface of my mind when I'm lying in bed at the end of the day waiting for Sleep:</em></p>
<p>Every moment has its own wisdom</p>
<p>Isn't this what meditation is? Sitting down with each moment and listening to what it has to offer? Listening to what it Is. Like having tea with a wise grandmother - except it's one frame of a movie that stretches throughout your whole life (and beyond?). And that grandmother is you. Or God. Or both. Or Nothing.</p>
<p>But if we are receptive to each moment, really listening to what Is, we will know so much more. About what is actually happening. And the millions of things that are <em>not</em> happening but that were fabricated by our monkey minds out of thin air.</p>
<p>It is then that we can take that next step, say that next word, perform the task at hand and stay grounded in the Truth and compassion.</p>
<p>And that is how we turn the world around.</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49668162017-12-07T10:43:33-07:002017-12-07T10:43:33-07:00old vinyl treasure<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/862a59a605d5418f77ca906858680753c9096b17/original/cavallaro.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>This is one of those old vinyl treasures that pop out at me when I'm rummaging through a thrift store bin or at local record shops like <a contents="Old Paint Records" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://oneoldpaint.com/index.html" target="_blank">Old Paint Records</a> and <a contents="Zia Record Exchange" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.ziarecords.com/" target="_blank">Zia Record Exchange</a>. I just love everything about it. The cover photo with the fabulous dancer and superimposed maracas. The hyperbolic statement "the ultimate in HI-FI". The song titles "Voodoo Moon", "Perfidia" (this also includes the Cuban classic "Aquellos Ojos Verdes" which was playing when my grandparents met). </p>
<p>And the music itself just makes me happy. I listened to this while cooking dinner the other day - nothing like a little cha-cha while you're chopping onions.</p>
<p>Sure it's completely out of style. Sure it's got nothing to do with the other albums more closely aligned with my own music (like the awesome bundle of <a contents="Wilco" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://wilco.kungfustore.com/music-and-books/recordsvinyl/limited-edition-colored-am-lp-wil781-lp.html" target="_blank">Wilco</a> and <a contents="Jeff Tweedy" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://wilco.kungfustore.com/music-and-books/recordsvinyl/together-at-last-lp-wil850.html" target="_blank">Jeff Tweedy</a> I ordered recently). But it's MUSICA! It doesn't have to fit anything or be 'on brand'. It can take you anywhere you like, even a floor show in a Latin club almost 60 years ago. It can take you out of yourself, out of your time, out of your world.</p>
<p>All from a little trip to the record store.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49650632017-12-06T11:59:38-07:002017-12-11T10:54:01-07:00once in a lifetime<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/c5e0b80db9a7dedb15714dfec581d1254e60b27a/original/stop-making-sense-30th-feature.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Here’s a little side note about a side project Jamie and I participated in this Fall. Downtown Tucson’s best dive bar, Che’s Lounge (that hissing you hear is from all the ex-pat Cubans in my family - it’s okay), does a cover concert every Halloween with a band that forms each year just for the occasion, Spacefish (founded by one of CL’s owners, Jim). They have a (well deserved) reputation for doing amazing covers of amazing bands like Led Zeppelin, Weezer, Nirvana and even Jimi Hendrix. Our good buddy and bass player extraordinaire, Brian Green, had asked us to join in this year’s shenanigans - covering Talking Heads’ seminal concert movie “<a contents="Stop Making Sense" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.wired.com/2017/04/jonathan-demme-stop-making-sense/" target="_blank">Stop Making Sense</a>”. </p>
<p>This was no joke. Jamie signed on for keyboard duties (the Bernie Worrell part) and I was one of the backup singers (in particular, Lynn Mabrey, who is a force of nature and I learned a helluva lot trying to do her justice). We practiced our asses off with the rest of the 9-piece band who all did a great job. </p>
<p>The Halloween concert was a success (not least because of Brian’s ‘Tina' wig and Jim’s giant suit) and it was a bit of bummer that we only got to do it once. </p>
<p>But not so fast - we’re doing it again! Another part of the Spacefish tradition is they reprise the show for the <a contents="Great Cover Up, a Tucson festival where local bands cover well known bands" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/greatcoverup/" target="_blank">Great Cover Up, a Tucson festival where local bands cover well known bands</a>. Usually the point is to keep it secret which local bands are covering which known bands. But I’ll let you guess who Spacefish is covering ; ) </p>
<p>Some of our hipper counterparts kinda look down their nose at covers. C’mon this is someone else’s materials, it’s already been done, this is SO 1984! But to me, it depends on who you’re covering. Jamie and I have worked on covers of The Beach Boys, <a contents="The Who" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4RDUksH5RE" target="_blank">The Who</a>, and The Beatles. And every time we learned a TON. These are bands who were masters of their music - the writing is unparalleled and the playing always required stretching beyond your comfort zone. Well crafted songs that turn out to be so much more complex and nuanced when you break them down. It’s like cross training for musicians. Plus it's HELLA fun! </p>
<p>For this show, I’m more of a ‘side man’ but then I get to delve into the challenges and art of backup singing. Because it IS a challenge and it IS an art (just see <a contents="20 Feet From Stardom" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://twentyfeetfromstardom.com/" target="_blank">20 Feet From Stardom</a>). For this show in particular, the backup singers provide a soul/R&B counterpoint to David Byrne’s intellectual but grooving rock. You have to sing with power and emotion and skill without overpowering the lead. In fact, at the Halloween show I couldn’t even fulfill my part fully because I was getting over a bad cold and didn’t take care of my voice the way I should have and ended up losing it by the end of the show. It all worked out (with mega help from my wonderful co-singer, Grace Thompson) but it reminded me that THIS AIN’T NO FOOLIN’ AROUND! </p>
<p>And I love that. I love working on a show with everything I’ve got. No matter the pay or prestige (or lack thereof). It’s such a high to make awesome music with awesome musicians. To figure out exactly what’s happening with the melody and harmony. To marvel at these cool arrangements that make a song so special and really read the lyrics and appreciate the craft and skill that went into “Stop Making Sense”. </p>
<p>Even if these aren’t my own compositions - this is one of the reasons I’m here, why I’m alive. To do a show like this, no matter who’s there. </p>
<p>But if you’re in Tucson and want to check it out, here’s the info! </p>
<p><strong>December 16th</strong> (this is the 3rd night of the festival - <a contents="go here for more info" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/greatcoverup/" target="_blank">go here for more info</a>) <br><strong>191 Toole</strong> (which is both the name of the venue and the address : ) <br>The entire show starts at 7pm but we don’t go on until <strong>11:30pm</strong> <br>This is a benefit for Planned Parenthood and the suggested donation is $8</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49632852017-12-05T10:15:18-07:002017-12-05T10:15:18-07:00om<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/da64de1b226db670b650e42eaca3aafb1508998f/original/2540741766-721a5e2041-b.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Sitting still. Quiet. Focusing on your breath. In. Out. Just receiving the data your sensors pick up - bird song in the backyard, the sound of your beloved waking up and saying hello to your cat in the other room. If your mind starts to tell stories about this data, just turn the thoughts into a bubble and let them float away. Come back to the feel of the slightly warm air resting on your arms and that ever-present breathing. In. Out.</p>
<p>This is how I try to start my day. It's a pretty new development in my life and it's taken a while to 'get into' with my frantic, herd-of-gazelles mind. But now I <em>need</em> it.</p>
<p>It's the shower my mind takes in the morning.</p>
<p>You know what I'm talking about - what all the blogs and media outlets and gurus are talking about these days. But it's been A Thing for thousands of years in certain circles and for good reason. </p>
<p>In this Brave New World of Distraction, it's a survival tactic.</p>
<p>Not saying it's easy. It's not. Funny how something that involves doing Nothing is so difficult. But it's just practicing "Is-ness". Just being with what Is. Because that's all there Is. Nothing is certain but death, taxes and this very moment.</p>
<p>So if you have a tendency to freak out, have low-level anxiety, are trying to juggle too many things and have a constant feeling of overwhelm (not that I know anything about that *cough*), I highly recommend giving this 'trend' a spin. </p>
<p>If you're ready to give in, let go, even just for a few minutes at a time, here are some good resources for the leery beginner:</p>
<ul> <li>
<a contents="Headspace" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.headspace.com/">Headspace</a> - Listening to his lovely New Zealand accent is worth the (free) price of admission.</li> <li>
<a contents="Meditation for Beginners" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://zenhabits.net/meditation-guide/">Meditation for Beginners</a> - It doesn't get any simpler than this simple guide (from the Zen Habits guy, Leo Babtua)</li> <li>Youtube - Just search for "guided meditation" and pick one that seems geared for what you need right now.</li>
</ul>
<p>Really, there's oodles of resources out there right now. Or just try to close your eyes every now and then just let your thoughts flow in and out without chasing after them.</p>
<p>And for heaven's sake, don't beat yourself up because you're 'not doing it right'. If you can just sit still for three breaths in a row, you're doing something good for your being. Something good for the whole world.</p>
<p>Namaste.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Photo by <a contents="webhamster" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/webhamster/" target="_blank">webhamster</a></em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49614782017-12-04T10:50:08-07:002017-12-11T10:53:44-07:00Old Desert Moon<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/91e3fc3ccd625aceefa35db2a5b18eb6e7bbe3ae/original/img-3238-1.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Here's another story about a song I recorded last spring at Midtown Island Studios. This one was a bit of a creeper - I was thumbing through my scribblings and scrawlings in one of my notebooks from the year before (I stream a trail of journals and legal pads in my wake) and one random piece of chicken scratch caught my eye:</p>
<p>"Old Desert Moon, I wonder what you think of us below?" </p>
<p>And I was in a reverie - this iconic Sonoran desert I live in, but in black and white. A landscape of silver under a full moon like the one that beamed down on us last night. And in the open, clear-of-static sky in Tucson, the moon seems even bigger, a White Witness to the nocturnal, shady side of human nature. </p>
<p>I'm a Cancer, a moon child, and even though I was brought up a good Roman-Catholic girl, there was always a little pagan part of me that adored looking through my bedroom window, opening the slats of the blinds and communing with that giant white eye peeking through the moss-flecked branches of the oak tree. That was in Jacksonville, Florida, land of trees and scrub, where there's plenty of places the Moon can't see.</p>
<p>But in the desert - we're a wide open book, living out loud. And while the Sun sends us scurrying for cover, the nighttime is when we fling open the windows, come back out to play and entertain La Luna with our oh-so-human antics.</p>
<p>And so the song started writing itself - in a vintage song structure with no real chorus and the reprise, like an old jazz tune:</p>
<p><em>Old Desert Moon <br>I wonder what you think of us below <br>Sleeping in our beds <br>Dreaming of the day <br>Or leaning on the windowsill, <br>staring back at you </em></p>
<p><em>Old Desert Moon <br>Watching what the Devil gets us up to In our trailer trysts <br>And wild-eyed whiskey fights <br>Oh the silver-tinged <br>Stories you have seen <br>On your very own silver screen </em></p>
<p><em>Your old friend, Coyote, <br>Howls the news of the lonely<br>And Sister Owl is on the prowl <br>For a midnight snack </em></p>
<p><em>Old Desert Moon <br>You smile so sweetly from your perch <br>And all we do is play our little scenes for you <br>That age old cabaret of lust and steel<br>Living by feel<br>Feeding your dreams..</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>4:00Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49580972017-12-01T10:37:27-07:002017-12-01T10:37:27-07:00Friday inspo: Groundhog's Day<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/b98b5de90f390be28d0cdb08260121d88f3ce13f/large/7478189392-35944c2b3e-k.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>As someone with an office job - albeit one where the office is in my house - Friday mornings are important to me. Like most of the workforce, I've been slogging through the week, trying to make it until today without screwing up too much and hopefully with some actual progress to show for it. Today is the last day, the penultimate, the point where I can put a pin in it - actually a number of 'it's these days - and take a break for a couple of days while I focus on family and friends and house.</p>
<p>So as long as there's no frantic deadline looming, Friday mornings are a little easier. I take a bit more time and have a couple of email subscriptions I especially enjoy to kick off the almost-weekend. One of the them is <a contents="Austin Kleon" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com">Austin Kleon</a>'s weekly newsletter. He's a writer and artist in Austin who not only makes clever 'blackout' art - taking a page from a newspaper and blacking out all the words except for a few scattered ones that together form a poem - but he also writes a lot about the artistic process and how to survive and thrive as an artist in the 21st Century (at least emotionally). Every Friday he sends an email listing 10 interesting things of the week - which is always a treat to rummage through. He's an eclectic fellow so his topics range from books to music to movies and way beyond.</p>
<p>In today's missive, he links to an older post of this called "<a contents="Want to be an artist? Watch Groundhog's Day" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://austinkleon.com/2017/07/13/want-to-be-an-artist-watch-groundhog-day/">Want to be an artist? Watch Groundhog's Day</a>" which I LOVE because I LOVE that movie and his correlation between the artist's path and Phil Connor's fateful, never-ending day is spot on. But what especially caught my eye was this quote he pulled from a book I've been meaning to read - <a contents="Supernatural Strategies for Making a Rock ‘n’ Roll Group" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1617751308/wwwaustinkleo-20/ref=nosim/">Supernatural Strategies for Making a Rock ‘n’ Roll Group</a>:</p>
<p>“<em>If one becomes a lawyer, scholar, mechanist, typist, scientist, production assistant, or what-have-you, the world will commend your decision. Each day at lunch, on vacation, or at whatever party you attend, your choice will be applauded, upheld, and affirmed. And you will know what is expected of you. Even if your job is difficult — if you are a brain chemist, international death merchant, or rocket designer — your responsibilities will be obvious and your goals concrete. If you achieve them, you may be rewarded by promotion. If you fail, you might be fired or demoted, but nonetheless — unless your boss is insane — the job will have tangible parameters. [Art], however, is different. You will never know exactly what you must do, it will never be enough… no matter what change you achieve, you will most likely see no dividend from it. And even after you have achieved greatness, the [tiny number of people] who even noticed will ask, ‘What next?’</em>”</p>
<p>Yeah. </p>
<p>So many assume that being an artist is all fun and games - such a great lark and you get to be a non-productive member of society forever. And for some artists, that may be true. But it's more likely a Sisyphean task we feel compelled to do against all reason. Keep making - or trying to make - That Thing We Do with no guarantees of its outcome or reception. Sometimes you're blindly groping through a desert or running franticly through dark woods. And when you finally finish and (gasp!) publish or release something - there <em>might</em> be a fleeting sense of accomplishment before the near panic of "What's next?" kicks in.</p>
<p>But the alternative - not doing It at all - is despair and depression. Or anxiety and mania. Being eaten alive by the gnawing knowing that we're not doing what we're supposed to be doing. Basically, it's Not Good.</p>
<p>So on we go up the hill, shoulder to boulder.</p>
<p>But as Austin points out via Groundhog Day - the point may not be the recognition and measures of excellence. It may not be the final resting of the boulder on the mountain top. The point is the doing, the climbing itself. Doing That Thing We Do as best and fully as we can in the life we have left.</p>
<p>And that in itself is something beautiful indeed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Photo of Sisyphus Peak in New Zealand by <a contents="Andrew Purdam" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/apurdam/" target="_blank">Andrew Purdam</a></em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49561712017-11-30T10:30:29-07:002017-11-30T10:30:29-07:00Rosanne Cash<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/05c483ca7c9f48e550fbb0ad79a0010ac99f284f/original/rosanne-cash-david-clinch.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>I remember when she first came onto the MTV scene in the eighties - the look of a New Wave-er with an awesome pop rock song (<em>Seven Year Ache</em>) but the daughter of country's biggest icon. She was an outlier then, doing her thing. Not fitting in, not seeming to care. My kinda gal.</p>
<p>Then I came across her again in 1996 with one of my favorite albums, <em>10 Song Demo</em>. I immediately connected with her silk-lined-burlap voice and the lyrics - intelligent, literary but still real, in-your-guts stories and messages. As the title suggests, the whole album was based on a demo tape of ten songs she'd recorded with just voice and acoustic guitar. When she sent it to her producer/husband, Jonathan Leventhal, he loved the honest, sparse beauty and kept the original tracks, just augmenting them here and there with instrument overdubs. </p>
<p>Since then she's kept growing as an artist and performer and author - her autobiography, <em>Composed</em>, is a must-read - and a huge inspiration to me on how to be an amazing songwriter and a performer in the public eye while still keeping your integrity. And sense of humor.</p>
<p>So I really enjoyed this recent interview with her (on Garden & Gun's "Whole Hog" podcast). Cash says "some of my songs are like postcards from the future" - and mentions how <a contents="Black Cadillac" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=upIKQXT51Rc">Black Cadillac</a> was written the spring <em>before</em> June and Johnny passed when most people assumed it was written afterwards. Which struck me because I've written a few songs like this - little mysteries that become prophetic in retrospect. It's not so much clairvoyance. It's more like a sensitive antenna that's picking up information from the ether before it's fully formed...</p>
<p>Anyway, she's just super cool. </p>
<p><a contents="http://gardenandgun.com/articles/rosanne-cashs-arrow-south/" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://gardenandgun.com/articles/rosanne-cashs-arrow-south/">http://gardenandgun.com/articles/rosanne-cashs-arrow-south/</a></p>
<p><em>Photo by David Clinch</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49544072017-11-29T09:52:38-07:002017-11-29T09:52:38-07:00so what's going on?<p>Well, I'll tell ya!</p>
<p>I'm madly juggling a full-time job (as a scientist wrangler - I'll try to explain that someday), an amazing psych rock band with my hubby, Jamie, called <a contents="Silver Cloud Express" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/silvercloudexpress/">Silver Cloud Express</a> (we're recording and releasing a few songs right now), and then going through the second phase of <a contents="my solo songs" data-link-label="Music" data-link-type="page" href="/music">my solo songs</a>, which involves demo'ing existing songs in my backlog while (slowly) writing new ones, then putting down tracks that I'll send to Jamie to perform his sonic wizardry on, etc, etc. All while trying to be a decent partner, friend, daughter, sister, aunt and fellow artist to those special people in my life.</p>
<p>And now I'm adding a daily blog to the mix! Well, not quite daily - more like Monday through Friday (I do like my weekends un-fettered by routine).</p>
<p>Have I finally (finally? hm) gone mad? Who wants to read a musician's self-indulgent drivel every day? Aside from my parents? I actually don't know. What I do know is that there's something grounding about publishing these bits of flotsam and jetsam from my mind at the beginning of the day. It connects me - alone, ever sitting at my desk, with the Great Digital Out-There. And it encourages me to actually have things to write about (like upcoming gigs, new songs and <a contents="Daddy's constant requests for new video demos of those new songs" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://cristinawilliams.com/blog/blog/cactus-demo">Daddy's constant requests for new video demos of those new songs</a>). </p>
<p>But most importantly, it makes me feel good.</p>
<p>It's funny...I drag my feet in the hour before I have to start the day job, kinda dreading the gauntlet before me. What am I writing about today? I have ideas of things listed in my Evernote, but when ass is in chair and the clock is ticking, a slight panic sets in. Then I start typing <em>something</em> and lo and behold, eventually there's a post. I edit it til I can smile while reading it and hit "Publish". </p>
<p>Then I'm golden the rest of the day.</p>
<p>For whatever reason, I feel like I've done something towards my dharma. Or something like that. And the beauty of it is no one really needs to read all of these posts unless they actually check my website every day (Hi, Daddy!) I do have a weekly email that I send out that will link to some of the better posts, so if you want to get a curated digest, <a contents="just add your email address to form here" data-link-label="Home" data-link-type="page" href="/home">just add your email address to the form here</a>.</p>
<p>In the meantime, if you have some suggestions or requests about stuff for me to write about, go ahead and leave it in the comments. There is absolutely no guarantee I'll do it, but you never know. When that slight morning panic sets in, you could just save my digital bacon. </p>
<p>Ok, enough navel gazing. Tomorrow I'll get back to writing about music, my heroes, guitars, flea markets, whatever.</p>
<p>Thanks for reading these words and hope you have an awesome day!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49523292017-11-28T09:56:55-07:002017-12-03T11:55:33-07:00"Cactus" Before and After<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/fbaaf52d85b448dfb2d7907bac19b73c417363f9/original/img-3017.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><a contents="After posting that new demo of Cactus yesterday" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://cristinawilliams.com/blog/blog/cactus-demo">After posting that new demo of Cactus yesterday</a>, I thought it might be interesting to show Daddy's original words and how they turned out as lyrics. You know, something edumacational.</p>
<p>Also, it gives an idea of how long it can take to put a song out there - at least for me. I just looked up the original email and it was sent February 2016! Here are the words Thomas H. Williams wrote back then (un-edited - Daddy has his own artistic license with spelling and grammar):</p>
<p>"if I wasn't me I'd be a cactus,.....maybe a tall saguro, real high.....waving my long arms at the sun, or the moon beneath the high desert sky.....maybe I'd be a silver cholla....succulent by a streambed that's mostly dry.......maybe I'd stand like an organ pipe cactus, playin' music. and my tune would sound like the buzz of bees on the prickly pear blossom, or the slow flappin' sound of bats as they gather nectar under the cloak of dark by night. I'd be able to save my memories, like the barrel cactus saves water, not wasting one sweet drop.......that pickly tribe, why they are beautiful.....people lookin' long see that they mean no harm, being safe behind their thorns.....if I was a scarlet hedgehog I'd show my colors, just for you.....if I wasn't me I'd be a cactus....and I'd soak up all the love around me like cholla sips the dew."</p>
<p>Damn.</p>
<p>I dibbled and dabbled with the idea of turning it into a song for almost a year. It was one of those ticklers - like in the movie 'Babe' - the idea of it just wouldn't go away. I had most of the song in place by summer, and finally finished up the melody and new lyrics while I was on a family visit to Jacksonville in January 2017. And there are so many wonderful parts of the original that didn't make it into the song - but each song is its own puzzle and the parts fit the way they fit. So it becomes something somewhat new.</p>
<hr><p><strong>Cactus</strong> by Williams and Williams</p>
<p> </p>
<p>if I wasn't me I'd be a cactus </p>
<p>I’d soak up all your lovin' like the cholla sips the dew. </p>
<p>I'd use my thorns to keep our hearts safe </p>
<p>And I'd show all my colors, just for you </p>
<p> </p>
<p>I could be a saguaro, waving so high </p>
<p>waving to the moon in the black velvet sky </p>
<p>Crowned by the flapping sound of bats flying by </p>
<p>Gathering their nectar by the dark of the night </p>
<p> </p>
<p>If I was an organ pipe, playing you my tune </p>
<p>Sounding just like buzzing bees on wildflower blooms </p>
<p>Every kiss you'd shower would become my favorite song </p>
<p>And the hummingbirds would sing along </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Your beauty is the flower of a wild prickly pear </p>
<p>With so many brilliant petals in colors so rare </p>
<p>Sweet magenta kisses are the fruits that you bring </p>
<p>Leaving me with just enough breath to sing</p>
<p> </p>
<hr><p> </p>
<p>It wasn't finished yet, though. I first wrote it as a bright uptempo ditty but the lyrics are pretty dense with words and syllables so I would trip over them. It wasn't til my last trip to J'ville in August, playing it for Daddy, that he suggested I slow it down, let it breathe. I was a little resistant at first but it did feel more 'right'. I also love fingerpicking a tune slowly like that. After coming home, I also dropped the key slightly. NOW it felt like something. </p>
<p>Then of course Daddy wanted a video of me playing it, so at some point during every phone call home since, while chatting with Mami, i'd hear his voice bellowing in the background 'Where's that video of Cactus?" <a contents="Aaand here we are!" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://youtu.be/ruPXxC7Rc0E">Aaand here we are!</a> </p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49505362017-11-27T09:58:40-07:002017-11-27T10:02:49-07:00"Cactus" demo<p>Every now and then, I do a quick video demo of a new song - part of it is to just put it out there, see how folks react, observe any resonance. I don't do this for every new song, just some of the ones that get me more excited than others. The other part is Daddy's relentless nagging : ) He's my first teacher, my biggest fan, and just all around great as a dad and fellow musician He's also stubborn as a pitbull with a bone and when he locks onto an idea, he won't let go. Hence, this particular video demo of another song we wrote together (the first one is "<a contents="Across Time" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/1283567/across-time">Across Time</a>" which you can listen to <a contents="here" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/1283567/across-time">here</a>). Confession: even in this age of selfies, instagram stories and unparalleled extrovert-ism, I do <em>not</em> enjoy shooting videos of myself and especially don't enjoy going back and watching them. But Daddy will NOT let up - and it makes me feel like I'm doing something for the song itself - which to me is a living entity that requires love and attention - sooooo I'll keep doing them every now and then.</p>
<p>Here's a little insight into our co-writing process - Daddy sends me an email of stream of consciousness poetry and sometimes I hear a song in there. This song's genesis was my family's last trip to visit us in Tucson and was his love ode to the many wondrous cacti that grow here. I turned it into a love song - showed Daddy - he tweaked it (it used to be a bluegrass-y uptempo) and now we have this. I shot this just in time for Daddy's birthday on the 16th and he liked it. Hope you like it, too!</p>
<p> </p>
<p><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ruPXxC7Rc0E" width="560"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/49227542017-11-07T20:27:29-07:002017-11-28T09:57:57-07:00it's Hard Work<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9f44c375ab66b82b0368421f482dc51ff01f08c1/large/17210849885-bda04bf6e3-z.jpg" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>"there's a hole in my pocket, and it's leaking stars" </em></p>
<p>You know that feeling when you realize the person you dreamed you'd be by now never quite got born? The courageous hero who saved the day? The shining diva who graced the giant stage? Anything but the day-to-day life you're seeing stretched out in front of you? When you know there are stars inside you waiting to burst forth into the world, there's more YOU in there somewhere. </p>
<p>But it's hard work to turn this boat around at this stage in the journey. Even just taking those little tiny steps to make a change seems too much. And even if you take them, you'll probably just fall on your ass in the process, in front of the world. But maybe you can get up again. Just one more time. Each time. And keep going. Because it's Hard Work for all of us and we're all in this together. </p>
<p><em>There's a hole in my pocket and it's leaking stars <br>One for each dream that never made it far <br>And all I can do is watch them as they slowly slip away. </em></p>
<p><em>It's a car full of memories, trying to run me down <br>Pedal to the metal, but I stood my ground <br>I stopped, turned around, stare into the double-barrel light </em></p>
<p><em>It's Hard Work to make the wrong things right, yes it is <br>It's hard work to get up again and fight. </em></p>
<p><em>Well I could pick up a needle, go find some thread <br>One end to the other until it's closed again <br>But my hands are too heavy to fix anything today </em></p>
<p><em>Well it's hard work to make the wrong things right, yes it is. <br>Well it's hard work to get up again and fight, <strong>but you do</strong>. <br>Well it's hard work to find your one true light. Yeah, it is. <br>Yes it's hard work, to get up again.</em></p>
<p><span class="font_small">Music and lyrics by Cristina Williams</span></p>
<p><a contents="(Photo by Tom Hall)" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/TomHallPhoto" target="_blank"><span class="font_small">(Photo by Tom Hall)</span></a></p>3:18Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/48251702017-08-25T20:45:00-07:002017-09-01T09:38:41-07:00Bamboo and Roses<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/63c9e71e6dded915aee6d04742e4fbba882f6e41/original/sam-x-4093.jpg?1503631998" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>My dad, Thomas Harrell Williams of Panama Park, Jacksonville, FL wrote this song after he got home from doing his duty in the Vietnam War. He was back living with his parents and was doing gigs at Gigi’s Lounge at the Ramada Inn many a night. He didn’t know it, but he was soon destined to start teaching history, end up in an inner city school and meet a fellow teacher who would change his life forever: a young, beautiful divorcee from Cuba with two young children. It was actually the third time they had crossed paths (that’s another story for another time) but they wouldn’t realize that until later.</p>
<p>He tried out his limited Spanish on her and scored a date. Before long, they were married and he got an instant family, which included a very shy, socially awkward but precocious little girl. This sudden father tried to introduce her to the ways of the guitar at the age of 5 but she demurred because it hurt her fingers. A few years later, he’d try again, with more luck. He introduced her to simple folk songs on a baritone ukelele - then graduated to a broader repertoire of old, obscure English and Appalachian tunes (most of which she’s forgotten by now, more’s the pity) and somewhere in the middle of all that, he taught her a finger-picking, brooding little tune called “Bamboo and Roses”. </p>
<p>Now, the little girl had started learning the guitar because she was very obedient and (mostly) did what she was told. She liked singing and it was nice to be able to handle the guitar enough to accompany herself. But when her dad (technically step-father, but always Daddy), showed her this lovely melancholy song with a repetitive plucking pattern for her picking hand and a cool ascending riff that made her dream of a slightly sepia-toned Shangri-La of fossilized beauty and magic- that was the first guitar song that really captured her imagination. The fact that Daddy had written it himself, well that made her see him in a new, slightly starry light. The song gave her a little ache in her heart that she didn’t really understand, but just knew that she liked it. A lot. </p>
<p>Over many (many) years of playing in little local folk festivals, the Italian restaurant in the neighborhood strip mall during summer break, and ultimately playing out in clubs, she would put the little song down for a while and then pick it back up. After more years passed and she had morphed through many different phases and fancies, she found herself drawn back to this simple, quiet song. A song a sensitive young man had penned during a turbulent volatile time in his country and after laying down his innocence to the gods of war. A song about beauty and Time and where have some of those old good things gone? I know at least some of them live in this song, in this little girl’s old woman heart. And maybe in you, too.</p>
<p>(Photo by <a contents="Sam X&nbsp;" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://unsplash.com/photos/sJfGYTVhJvc?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Sam X </a>on <a contents="Unsplash" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://unsplash.com/?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>)</p>4:26Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/48068112017-08-08T11:06:08-07:002017-08-09T15:27:40-07:00New music! New website! New, new, new!<p>As you know, I've been gestating some new music for a while (a good LONG while), pondering and tweaking and still waiting to pull the trigger. But the time is now! Maybe it’s the monsoon season, building up that sense of urgency with its lightning storms and torrential rains that finally propelled me to push these tunes out into the world. </p>
<p>Yes, after so much time hinting and hemming and hawing, I have some NEW songs and a NEW website to show for it! I love how this site feels like a real home for this new side of my music I’ve been brewing for years. To check out the first new songs, just click that lil ol' player at the bottom of your window to start a playlist (that stays on as you click around the site!) </p>
<p>Of course, I didn’t do this alone. </p>
<p>There’s an amazing group of musicians who helped me bring these four new songs into the world. <a contents="Jamie Laboz" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://www.jamiesboombox.com/">Jamie Laboz</a>, my partner in life and music, most associated with raw rock n roll energy, channeled some gorgeous soul into his guitar parts and his unerring direction as producer, snatching these songs out of the ether of my mind and turning them into real sonic images. <a contents="Michael P Nordberg" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001188032232">Michael P Nordberg</a> on drums and Brian Green on bass provided a magical rhythm section as well as stalwart friendship and encouragement that inspire me so much every time we play together. </p>
<p>Matt Rendon of <a contents="Midtown Island Studios" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/ComaCaveStudio/">Midtown Island Studios</a> was the wizard behind the console in his concrete ‘cave’ who captured the fabric of these songs and wove them into a rich, warm sonic tapestry. </p>
<p>As for the site itself, digital diva Delaney Gibson of <a contents="CCXA" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http://ccxa.co/">CCXA</a> put together a website that feels so in tune with my self, incorporating the fabulous photos by Jimi Giannatti. This woman knows how to dial into your vibe and help you capture it in an authentic visual language. </p>
<p>And last but certainly not least, there's my dad, Tom Williams, the one who started this whole mess by teaching me the ways of the troubador when I was knee high to a grasshopper and ruining me for normal life forever. I am proud to say two of the new songs are collaborations with him: <a contents="Bamboo and Roses" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/1263966/bamboo-and-roses">Bamboo and Roses</a>, a song he first wrote back in 1971, and <a contents="Across Time" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/1283567/across-time">Across Time</a>, a song that started life as one of his signature stream of consciousness email poems that he’ll send every now and again. Daddy, thank you for never letting me forget my priorities - that music is far more important than homework (or day job work). </p>
<p>Thanks to all yall for helping me get my act together and being so patient with my dragging feet. New is scary. New is full of uncertainty. But new is exciting, because so much has changed for me over the years and it’s a huge kick in the ass to finally represent where I am and who I am right here, right now, with you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/dd59a0be27cb4aa9c19516247479fdd9c6f8608a/original/img-3588.jpg?1501174314" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/7cf244765b92ae67dff2657c24153c0c9efcb638/original/cris-and-jam.jpg?1502215318" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/f8c96d4e40be3c179db424ea90080d8fd6c4aab0/original/jam-git.jpg?1502215293" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/7cb8353205e67fbbd3f7696feb71844edc9e62c7/original/rhythm-magic.jpg?1502215356" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/e53c92c4ab90ebdc3304435f53d592d4010bb0f6/original/matt-wizard.jpg?1502215380" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/46182582017-03-06T09:48:53-07:002017-08-01T17:59:05-07:00the care and feeding of guitars<p>I was on a visit to Florida recently – on a mission of mercy to help keep my dad company while my poor mother was recuperating from an accident that left her recovering in a rehabilitation facility for weeks. Long-time readers will know that Daddy is the one who got me into this music mess in the first place – he taught himself to play guitar back in the sixties, was a folk singer in Jacksonville for many years and passed along this heritage to me since I was knee high to a grasshopper.</p>
<p>So of course, on my visit there was a lot of guitar-talk and guitar-playing and then some guitar-buying when yet another eBay find washed up on Daddy shores: a Vega classical guitar circa 1964 – “The Limeliter’s Model”. The Limeliter’s were a popular folk group back in the early sixties – and this was in many ways a ‘poor man’s Martin’ – an affordable small guitar that sounded good and was easy to play.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/d1378de7e21702b349d997f00d8b1579f6ec8440/original/limeliters-tag.jpg?1501634443" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>This one had an interesting face with dark threads streaking through the blonde veneer top. But upon inspection, Daddy realized the strings weren’t to his liking and the action was way too high (ie, the strings were too far from the fretboard for comfortable playing or good tone).</p>
<p>As it goes through the history of human families, I have had a long, sorry habit of brushing off Daddy’s vast realms of knowledge about acoustic guitars and the care and maintenance thereof with rolled teenage eyes. I kick myself now for all the times he wanted me to help him glue on a bridge or make some adjustments to one of his constantly rotating stable of American vintage guitars and I’d either help grudgingly or find some excuse like finishing some long overdue homework (which was likely true, but as Daddy liked to say ’never let school interfere with your education’).</p>
<p>So when Daddy mentioned that maybe I could assist him, I said ‘Hell yes!” and he set up shop on the back porch where the sign saying “Redneck Studios” is still slightly off kilter from last fall’s big hurricane.</p>
<p>As he snipped off the nylon strings and filed down the bridge, Daddy explained each step that he was taking while I helped hold the Vega at the right angle. I’d go fetch him tools that he needed from the rat’s nest of gear and tuners and bridge pins and other odds ’n ends nestled in jars and milk crates throughout his office.</p>
<p>First, he tried to dislodge the bridge (that ridge of bone down around where the pins are that keep the strings taut on the bottom end of a guitar). In this case, it wasn’t moving at all. He then tried a chisel and a mallet on the side and with gentle tapping tried to slide it out. But it just wouldn’t budge and you don’t want to force it so much that it’ll chip off.</p>
<p>So he decided to adjust the bridge in place. He started with a metal file, using it like a manicurist with a particularly tough hangnail, and started filing it down at an angle across the top. Then he realized it was taking too much time and broke out the Dremel, a little drill-like mechanism but with a round head with a sandpaper-like surface around the sides. This allowed him to gently grind away the surface of the bone, fine drifts of white dusting the face.</p>
<p>“Now hand me a #2 pencil and I’ll show you how to see where it’s still uneven.” He gently rubbed the side of the pencil lead across the top of the bridge and, sure enough, the sections that were still rising higher than the rest were a dark gray while the rest stayed relatively white. He finished his grinding and rubbed his thumb over the surface. Having done this for decades, he could eyeball the exact height he wanted so he went ahead and strung it back up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/d596fbbd85e48493e07a16846a56c4559a367b66/original/daddy-vega.jpg?1501635528" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>He told me the story of the first guitar he’d bought. Over sixty years ago, he’d walked into one of the music stores in downtown Jacksonville, called American Music, with hard-earned money he’d been saving – it was time to buy his first real guitar! The salesman handed over a classical guitar much like this Vega but Daddy wanted a steel string guitar like the folk singers he’d been falling in love with. The man – eyes fixed firmly on the wad of cash in Daddy’s young fist – said “No problem!” and put on some steel strings himself to seal the deal. Daddy brought home his prize only to find the bridge had snapped off sure enough only a few days later. He’d brought the guitar back to get some satisfaction but the salesman said “That’s what you get when you buy that cheap stuff!” It was one of Daddy’s first – but not last – lessons in the dog-eat-dog nature of this world.</p>
<p>But now as he wound up the proper strings for this guitar, he was getting his own kind of recompense. Another stray guitar that he will fix and heal and love. There was still more work to do – a couple of the strings were buzzing – giving off “wolf tones” – and Daddy used a special set of nut files, one for each string of a guitar. Then he diagnosed a loose brace by pressing down his fingerpads on certain areas of the face while strumming – like a doctor palpitating a patient. Before long, that Vega was sounding better than it probably ever had and it fairly thrummed with happiness in Daddy’s callused hands.</p>
<p>I felt so much pride in this demonstration of decades of love and care – and regret at how much I had disregarded it as a youngster. Daddy was and always will be a teacher – whether it’s the social studies and history of his public high school career or the care and feeding of guitars.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45481992017-01-12T16:43:51-07:002017-08-01T18:01:05-07:00a season of the new<p>First month of the year, ’tis the season of turning over a new leaf and for me that includes lots of new things: new photos, new website and most importantly…new music! Yes, those demos have been taking their sweet time coalescing into something resembling the kinds of new songs I’ve been hearing inside my head – and willing to send off into the world. But the time is nigh!</p>
<p>But first, the photos. I just did a shoot with fantastic (and fascinating) photographer, <a href="http://www.popnarkotic.com/photos">Jimi Giannatti.</a> Go click the link and see all the great work he’s done with really cool people! Here’s a sneak peek at of some of the pieces of my soul Jimi captured.</p>
<p>FYI – the building you’ll see in some of these shots are from a beautiful mission-style building called <a href="http://www.sanpedrochapel.com/">San Pedro Chapel</a>. You’d think you were out in the middle of the Sonoran desert but this chapel – standing since the 1930s – is actually in the heart of Tucson in one of the oldest neighborhoods – originally called El Fuerte (the Strong) and is now Old Fort Lowell. It’s a tiny road surrounded by isolated adobes, ranches and native landscape that I didn’t have any idea existed just a mile from my house.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/2acff5b114e5d6e65dda1fbc1ce4bb9c554c6557/original/958.jpg?1484001609" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/3721cfdd7b0a66f3261c88974b90b3cc86a3b83a/original/872.jpg?1498329247" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/cb39280839c8b182a39d49cdf01dfeb26e104f6d/original/2238.jpg?1483644801" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/28ababe6e2890722ee310741a625a5638338e4fb/original/2341.jpg?1483718050" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/6f3ed5cadf84a6c836010fdc2b18cae63dda12e1/original/812.jpg?1498328703" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>New website coming soon!</p>
<p>xo<br>Cristina</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45369012016-12-12T17:46:47-07:002017-01-04T11:33:08-07:00a short holiday playlist for these times<p>Befitting this season of longer nights, when my thoughts turn to the more magical, love-based aspects of Christmas and other winter holidays – I think about one of my favorite messages in most seasonal movies and songs: fellowship and goodwill toward all.</p>
<p>So many people are so heartbroken and scared right now – myself included – because we had hoped that rhetoric that demeans so many our fellow humans and historically leads to the worst of human nature was a deal-breaker. Others are in a lot of pain and not feeling listened to and threw in with someone who promised a lot of things that sounded damn good. Both sides reject the top-down establishment but both are being pitted against each other.</p>
<p>So I want my left-, right-, whatever-leaning friends to just take a moment and stretch up. Look up at the winter stars that have been there far, far longer than our scrambling around like ants on this young planet in this oh-so-young nation. <span id="more-1963"></span>No political party can really represent all of us. We all have different unique philosophies cobbled together from our family histories and experiences. We all have our different sources of information – or none at all.</p>
<p>But we all want the same things. Love, a home, family, friends, work that provides a living wage, food on the table and some fun. And I can’t help but feel hope that we can start listening to each other, de-coding the language thrown at us from both sides and figure out that most of us are still all on this together. If we could start talking <em>to</em> each other and not <em>at</em> each other, a lot of good stuff could happen.</p>
<p>So I find myself hearkening back to some of my favorite classic R&B songs that keep running through my head. During the tumultuous sixties and seventies, they gave us positive messages camouflaged in some mega-funky music – you can have a good time and still try to build a better society. Here are may fave picks – many themed for the holidays – and I send love and good tidings no matter who you worship, who you love, or the skin you were born in:</p>
<p><strong>Everyday People, Sly and The Family Stone:</strong></p>
<p><iframe width="1080" height="608" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YUUhDoCx8zc?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></p>
<p><strong>Someday at Christmas, Stevie Wonder:</strong></p>
<p><iframe width="1080" height="608" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/y__tczZDkTo?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></p>
<p><strong>Let’s Make Christmas Mean Something This Year, James Brown:</strong></p>
<p><iframe width="1080" height="810" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Se-OiVPEiPY?feature=oembed" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></p>
<p>And then one as a tribute to the late, great <strong>Sharon Jones – 8 Days of Love</strong>:</p>
<p><iframe width="1080" height="608" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/videoseries?list=RDVT2_7aq3ytE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></p>
Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45369022016-10-04T13:00:49-07:002017-08-01T18:02:24-07:00how the magic happens<p>Sitting in my sonic bubble. Headphones on, bass plugged in, staring at a sheet of glass – sucked into the vortex of 21st century recording software’s infinite possibilities (Logic, if you’re curious, and the irony of such a name for something that helps birth so many imaginings is not lost on me).</p>
<p>I pour one piece, a three-minute snippet of my analog soul, into this magic box, one take at a time. Notes and melodies and chords alchemized into ones and zeros.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9e88f407ad787b29346e3cec48c29f8242213e2c/original/img-3208-1024x768.jpg?1501635728" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>I used to resist this – longing for the “good ol’ days” of 2-inch tape and the legends of Abbey Road, but I now embrace my new electric overlord that lets me massage, prod and nudge these rainbow-colored sound waves until they more closely resemble this auditory loop that constantly runs through my head and won’t let me sleep.</p>
<p>And it’s overwhelming. I’m closer to the ‘rank beginner’ end of the spectrum than I wish when it comes to recording demos – bringing them to proto-life before I share them with the other wizards who will complete the metamorphosis.</p>
<p>So I have a process, a method that I’m sticking to for now. Don’t know if it’s the right one yet, but it’s something to follow so I Have Something To Do when I sit down:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For each instrument (I’m keeping it simple, so it’s not much more than vocals, guitar and rhythm section), I lay down two to four tracks – at least two because even if your first take is wicked awesome, there should be at least one more “just in case.” No more than four because then it’s just too much to listen back to. Your ears start herding cats and I just don’t have time for that.</p>
<p>Hopefully you have what you need by this time. But if you’re still figuring out what the hell you’re doing (this friggin bassline, for example), then cobble together something with what you have using the powers granted by Logic to help you along. Let your amazing live-in wizard (ie my husband Jamie) take a listen and offer his wisdom, then learn to play that new part and lay it down again.</p>
<p>Lather, rinse, repeat.</p>
<p>It’s achingly slow right now – though faster than two months ago. But something interesting is happening. I’m getting excited. New ideas are coming to me and old things that aren’t working are dropping away. The song is taking shape before my eyes and ears. Yeah, I’m getting <em>real</em> excited.</p>
<p>Which means whatever this is I’m doing, I’m on on the right path. So I’m going to keep on trucking, one track at a time.</p>
<p>Hope you’ve found a path worth taking, too. Something that makes your insides glow.</p>
<p>Wishing you luck on your journey!</p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45369032016-09-01T13:24:50-07:002017-08-01T18:04:04-07:00good day, sir, and thank you<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1946" style="width: 680px">
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<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/34f79d2b000b0b4a1763ca367446403999fc1681/original/gene-wilder-dead.jpg?1501635791" class="size_orig justify_center border_none" alt="" style="margin-right: 5px; margin-left: 5px;" /></p>
<p class="wp-caption-text">Photo by Steve Wood (1979)</p>
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<p>Gene Wilder is gone. To be fair, we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him in a good long while and I admit he had slipped my mind. Though every now and then I tend to gravitate towards some YouTube clip from <em>Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory</em> or <em>Young Frankenstein</em>. It’s like I have this innate need to look into his sparkling eyes, into a child-like face grounded in a bottomless sense of wisdom and a devilish grin.</p>
<p>That frizzy, cumulus of hair always trying to lift off from his head. That perfect sense of timing. Those moments of gravitas that flip into silliness and back again. How can you not love that? How can you not need that in this world?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I cried when I heard the news that he had passed. There was always something special about him. A comedic Buddah, smiling with his eyes – so gently. I never met him but feel his loss. Even in a year when we lost two great magical musical heroes: Bowie and Prince, Wilder’s death still hit closer to home. Like a favorite uncle you never visited enough but dearly love all the same.</p>
<p>Of course, <em>Willy Wonka</em> was a huge part of my 70’s childhood. The movie itself was a wonderland for my senses: the moralizing, ridiculous-looking Oompa Loompas, the giant candy land and dangerously surreal boat ride (that haunted my dreams and sparked my morbid fascination with horror movies.) But it was all fueled and enriched by Wilder’s performance – both mischievous imp and mysterious wizard. It takes hundreds of people to launch a movie – but even though he didn’t write the screenplay or the songs or choose the actors or direct the scenes – Wilder brought the movie to Technicolor life with his unique artistry.</p>
<p>That song (which needs no introduction) – sung in a slightly unsteady warble with tenderness and love for children but also an undercurrent of sadness and unease about the human condition – still kills me. He reminds us of that sense of Wonder that we seem to have lost along the way. There is no one else in the world who could have infused that part with so much pathos.</p>
<p>And then there was his achingly, tragically short love affair with another special soul, Gilda Radner. I was young when she was taken by ovarian cancer but still could palpably feel his grief at being torn apart from her. I like to think Gene and Gilda are having a helluva reunion, tap-dancing to their own crazy rhythm on the Milky Way and then blowing raspberries at the sun.</p>
<p>It’s funny how a stranger can affect you so much just by the work they’ve put out into the world. All I know about him are his movies and now countless blog posts and magazine articles. Surely they only scratch the surface of another complex, nuanced, flawed human being. But I don’t care – what Gene put into the world <em>mattered</em>. That was <em>real</em> and can never be taken away from me – or any of us – as long as we still believe in a world of pure imagination.</p>
<p><em>(Credit where credit is due: I stole the idea of using Wonka’s cold parting remark to Charlie as this post title from my ol’ theater pal, Bill Ratliff. When I saw that line in my Facebook feed, that’s when the tears first started rolling.)</em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45369042016-06-09T14:44:13-07:002017-08-01T18:05:39-07:00folk fest recap<p>This is way overdue but here’s some video and pictures from the 2016 Tucson Folk Festival. For those who don’t know, the Folk Fest – as it’s usually called around here – brings folkies from all over the region. I think over two hundred acts perform over three days! I’ve been wanting to be a part of it for a while and this year it finally happened. Jamie, Mike and Brian played wonderful arrangements to these tunes – some that I’ve been playing around for many years, some are very new and two are either written by or cowritten with my dad, Tom Williams!</p>
<p>This video is a song that I co-wrote with Daddy when he sent me a beautiful stream-of-consciousness email about friendship and roads taken and untaken through the years – called “Across Time”</p>
<p><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="608" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YuoRqXuqGds?feature=oembed" width="1080"></iframe></p>
<p> </p>
<p>And I love love love this photo taken by local photog <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SpryTime/">Jeff Sprytime</a> – Looks like Woodstock or somethin’!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/ac826382af8a923cc24063e8c4f23821617ea74d/large/folkfestsideshot.jpg?1485628125" class="size_xl justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>Next show’s at the Che’s Lounge patio on Sunday, September 25th!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45369052016-04-12T16:17:09-07:002017-08-01T18:07:07-07:00Valley of the Moon<p>There’s a funky old children’s attraction in Tucson that was started by a nice man in the 40’s as an enchanted place for kids. He made a magic snake out of oatmeal canisters and was re-using materials way before it was trendy. I was fascinated by the story and hence this song…</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/bf0fa6a9d2facb572ae921938fc45f7ef82329e8/original/2405145697-8e1e472afd-b-768x1024.jpg?1501635986" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Image by https://www.flickr.com/photos/midwinter-az/</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">In a hole out in the desert<br>On his makeshift mossy throne<br>The wizard gnome eats milk and berries<br>And looks out on the world he’s grown<br>Crumbling towers of lunar lava<br>An empty stage of fairy ruins<br>Fascination sleeps beneath them<br>In the Valley of the Moon</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Rising, wincing for the journey<br>To find out where the young ones have gone<br>With moving pictures of his madness<br>And the mockingbird’s refrain<br>Rising up from his kind kingdom<br>Up a stair of limestone bones<br>Gray eyes peek out oer the edge<br>Into a land he’s never known</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Giant blocks so cold and steely<br>Klaxon jeers and asphalt roars<br>Children tethered, glassly standing<br>Playing pixelated wars<br>Soldiers in the brutal killing<br>Of their own ancient innocence<br>Blind to all the glowing stories of a wizard’s seventh sense.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Come ring round, I’ll tell a story<br>Of magic snakes and rabbit princes.<br>Banish all the cynic doubters<br>Or better yet teach them to smile.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Limping back oer electric fields<br>Bent by the mockingbird’ heartbreak<br>Changeling melodies that measure<br>Every aching step he takes<br>Until he comes back to the chasm<br>Where a lonely wildflower blooms<br>Sighing, sinking down the stone steps<br>To the Valley of the Moon.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Come ring round, I’ll tell a story<br>Of stardust webs and caves of terror<br>Banish all the cynic doubters<br>Or better yet teach them to dream.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">High above, blue eyes sparkling<br>Sees a land she’s never know<br>Strokes the wildflower’s petals sweetly<br>Humming her own changeling tune<br>As she climbs into the Valley of the Moon.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45369062016-04-08T10:00:08-07:002017-08-01T18:08:12-07:00Across Time<p>Here’s a song I wrote based on a stream-of-consciousness poem my Dad sent me.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/5e57097a4d589077b17b02d6365d1f117c5c77ae/original/5406931872-cded269f7b-b-1024x683.jpg?1501636064" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Image by https://www.flickr.com/photos/jakeslagle/</em></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">This is me, across time<br>I have changed. I’ve lost then I’ve gained<br>My little pieces of string<br>There is here and there is now<br>While the future, well she’s always weaving<br>As I search for the magic<br>of those who can chisel fine stone from thin air<br>Leaning in for some truth</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">I know the treasure<br>of a hand on my shoulder<br>saying ‘Hush now, it’ll be alright’<br>Though the path can grow weary<br>And the mountains rise high<br>You still say, ‘It’ll be alright’</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">You know that making mistakes<br>For all the right reasons<br>is my line of work<br>Sometimes I learn<br>But the learning sure hurts me and so<br>I fight the science of<br>Cold gravity.<br>The more I let go, the lighter I feel<br>I want to gain from my loss</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">I know the treasure<br>of a hand on my shoulder<br>saying ‘Hush now, it’ll be alright’<br>Though the path can grow weary<br>And the mountains rise high<br>You still say, ‘It’ll be alright’</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">I know the treasure<br>of a hand on my shoulder<br>saying ‘Hush now, it’ll be alright<br>Each time that boulder<br>rolls back down that hill<br>You still say, ‘It’ll be alright.<br>Why don’t you gimme some of your heavy load’</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">This highway gets lonely but sometimes there’s a gas station where I’ll run into a friend</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/45369072015-07-15T10:50:54-07:002017-08-01T18:20:17-07:00home zoology<div><p>I sit completely still in the humid air focusing the entirety of my attention on the swath of green in front of me. I breathe slowly, letting my muscles relax, calming the natural impulses of a young healthy person to move, fidget or jump. I stay, as beads of sweat make their slow descent, leaving shiny tracks down my bare arms.</p></div>
<div><p>The object of my stare is somewhere in the tall grass and it’s my job to observe its behavior, its actions. My eyes wait for movement, the inevitable sign of life. A blade twitches and I hold my breath. The slightest move on my part will give me away. The next blade of grass sways slightly. It’s on the move. A trail is making itself known, the trajectory pointing towards a patch of bare soil directly in my line of sight. I allow myself to breathe again but as slowly as possible. Seconds drip by and the edges of my being start to blend into the air around me, the soil below me. At this point in time, I am one with Everything.</p></div>
<div><p>Then…a tiny chartreuse head peers from its shelter – it crawls further into view on its short, spindly legs. A bright, peach-pink pouch billows from its throat, then quickly collapses. Attracting a mate or staking its territory? The Green Anole comes fully into view and I settle down even further at my spot, ready to observe what it will do next —</p></div>
<div><p>“Cristy!!!”</p></div>
<div><p>The silence is shattered by the bellow of my younger brother. The lizard scurries back into the wilds of our unmowed backyard lawn and he bursts through the door. “Mami says dinner time!”</p></div>
<div>
<p>I groan and unfold myself to standing. One more zoological experiment thwarted by the mundane call of “normal life.” I head towards the back door but give one last glance at the yard – a Northern Florida wonderland of fauna. I’ll be back.</p>
<p> </p>
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<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9c1bdfd4a540c7d33d769c50d7fdba957c56d448/original/green-anole.jpg?1501636366" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
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<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1881" style="width: 810px"><p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;"><em>A green anole in full regalia*</em></p></div>
<p>I was 12 and when I grew up, I was going to be a zoologist. I would travel to the savannahs of Africa or the outback of Australia to sit and document a breathtaking array of animals: the ferocious, regal lioness or the weird dance of the Blue-footed Booby. Growing up in Florida, a land that a couple hundred years of civilization still hasn’t tamed, wildlife was part of the everyday. Raccoons, armadillos, squirrels, blue jays, cardinals, ospreys, pelicans, possums, frogs, lizards. Intimate encounters with strange creepy crawlies were a given – including the famed Palmetto bug – a giant flying roach. The one blind spot I truly had though was snakes (<em>shudder</em>).</p>
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<div><p>Still and all, there were many, many other members of the wildlife kingdom that fascinated me. I had my Wildlife Treasure trading cards subscription, watched documentaries tirelessly, and consulted that ancient relic of wisdom, the encyclopedia, to learn more about our wild neighbors. The fact that I never camped much – was in fact squeamish about “roughing it” – didn’t phase me. I would be Jane Goodall, communing with her gorillas, I’d be Thor Heyerdahl sailing on Kon Tiki. I was a psychic Dr. Doolittle – communing and communicating with animals – conversations that seemed much preferable to human ones.</p></div>
<div><p>As I grew older, I started to have an inkling that I wasn’t truly cut out to be a zoologist. I was lazy with science projects and turns out there are snakes in most areas of the world. In college, the theater bug bit hard – and I had already been infected by the music virus. So I hung up my toy binoculars for good.</p></div>
<div><p>Looking back, I realize my fascination was more spiritual than scientific. Those backyard sessions were an instinctive form of meditation. These days I’ve become a backyard zoologist in still-wild Tucson. The Sonoran desert is another land that humans have never completely tamed and Mother Nature still exerts her tough love. I’m not even in the foothills, where the really wild things are – bobcats, javalina and Gila monsters. We live in the suburbs across the street from a golf course, in a modest walled yard. And still there’s life all around me: quail, rabbits, desert spiny lizards, hawks…even the shy, scruffy coyote. From my window, I witness the never-ending territorial <a href="http://www.cristinawilliams.com/backyard-report-bird-drama-and-lizard-laments" title="backyard report: bird drama and lizard laments">bird dramas</a> around the water dish, the escapades of the refugee squirrel from the golf course who sneaks over the wall to nip at the bird food.</p></div>
<div>
<p>Most mornings, I’m treated to the sweet sight of a small rabbit relaxing underneath the Texas ranger shrubs. When I sit still in front of the picture window in the living room and slow down my breathing as in those long-ago days – I can witness a meeting between the papa quail and the desert spiny lizard, still Dr Doolittle eavesdropping on the quail’s commentary on the weather and how hard it is to keep those chicks together.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/0fe81d01fcd02fca02e495ef7c258e710c74f543/original/picture-window-view.jpg?1501636630" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Texas ranger shrubs – the neighborhood hangout for local wildlife.</em></p>
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<div><p>Unless you can still your physical self and just witness, you’ll miss the delightful goofiness of a large lizard scratching the back of his head with his back leg, a quail hopping up and down to try to eat some insect from the low branches of a lantana shrub, or the wee cottontail rabbit grooming herself like a cat. My strange training has stood me well – I have the power to step out of the slipstream of ‘modern life’ and see the real Life around me.</p></div>
<div><p>You do, too. There’s life everywhere – even in a New York tenement (<em>especially</em> in a New York tenement, but that’s a whole ‘nuther story). Take a moment and look out your window. Quiet your breathe and take it slow. Strip away those jarring human elements – the plane flying overhead, the car honks in the distance – and look for a patch, even just a blade, of Nature and wait for movement. If you’re patient, you’ll have your own wildlife wonderland to observe and commune with. All you need is your attention.</p></div>
<div><small><em>* anole picture by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/vickisnature/">vickisnature</a> on flickr</em></small></div>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/35327492014-12-03T20:37:04-07:002017-08-02T09:21:33-07:00ode to red room<p>A few years back, when Jamie and I realized that Los Angeles wasn’t going to be our forever home (housing prices and earthquakes being two of the prime reasons) and we were casting about for new potential headquarters, we visited our friends Mike and Carrie in Tucson for the first time.</p>
<p>We immediately dug the clean air, funky saguaros (I remember hearing that word for the first time, the way it’s pronounced natively ‘<em>swah</em>-ro’ and the long length of time it took my mind to understand that this mellifluous sound represented those tall stately cacti with arms that has become America’s symbol for ‘desert’) and vast blue sky. We admired the indomitable croppings of art that waved from bus stops, overpasses, mailboxes and whole houses.</p>
<p>We’d been considering other smaller-scale arty scenes like Asheville or Austin, but what really tipped the scales in favor of the Old Pueblo was a narrow, long bar with a ceiling like the underbelly of an old roller coaster, creepy animal trophy heads poking through the walls, a blue portrait of Bob Dylan, a chalkboard made out of an old car door, the best bartenders west of the Mississippi and an ever flowing current of talent and creativity in front of old storefront windows. Oh, and tater tots.</p>
<p>I’m talking about that long gone Tucson institution, Red Room. It was a subset of another institution, The Grill, an ancient (by the West’s standards) 24-hour diner that had seen better days, including what was left of the peeling, sixties psychedelic deer mural and ever-threatening-to-collapse ceiling – though their crispy, golden brown tater tots alone were worth a trip. Red Room was the satellite, the adjunct, the part of the establishment that actually closed at 2am. But to me it was the better part.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/3326794569dbc4ec05d73abc5527a528771c880f/original/length-view-gerardine-vargas.jpg?1501637018" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1825" style="width: 730px"><p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;"><em>A sober daytime view. What was up with that ceiling? I’ll never know. Credit: Gerardine Vargas</em></p></div>
<p>We felt right at home as we lounged with excellent Polish beer and watched talented musicians we would soon come to know: The Rosano Brothers (Dante and Marco), Chris Black, Hank Topless. It was a kinder, folkier Star Wars Cantina – with only slightly less bizarre clientele. Booking tended to focus on quality or some form of “interesting” – the musicians didn’t get paid and the sound system was for shit but there was always an attitude of playfulness, experimentation, going-with-the-flow that pulled us all in like a magnet. Plus you drank and ate for free, and you were gonna be hanging out there anyway so might as well whip out the guitars!</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/425622c6f9efa1b955ff06241a760d227ad79479/original/red-room-live.jpg?1501689899" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
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<p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;"><em>Now this is what it was really like. A blur of red and music and people. Band was Otherly Love. Credit: unknown</em></p>
<p class="wp-caption-text"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/4911ce5ba94712020e6320bebd83d94617463333/original/modeens-redroom-march26-jam-703x1024.jpg?1501690531" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
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<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1830" style="width: 713px"> <p class="wp-caption-text"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/541f81bf3d14e6b85f2b2521eb489fd23ae81d59/original/modeens-redroom-march26-cris-e1416876151879.jpg?1501690721" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/390229ab8386af8d627fd8116dcf6827eb4db008/original/modeens-redroom-tom-copy-682x1024.jpg?1501690753" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
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<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1832" style="width: 692px">
<p class="wp-caption-text">The bartenders were phenomenal – true mixologists working magic in that tiny space behind the old oak bar and in front of the towering wall o’ liquor. For what the Red Room lacked in width, it more than made up for in height. There were silver doodads I never quite understood, white and brown sugar cubes (actual cubes!), a medley of citrus in yellow and green, and above all a warmth that amplified the coziness already emanating from the dark red walls. Only good people seemed to work here.</p>
<p class="wp-caption-text"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/9a2af82715dfd1601336dad01ff67037525f097a/original/redroom-bar-cia.jpg?1501690817" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;"><em>Another rare glimpse in the empty bright light of day. Credit: Cia Romano</em></p>
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<div class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_1826" style="width: 410px"> </div>
<p>There was no jukebox (one of my criteria for a favorite bar) but there was a photo booth (another criteria) and even though it was hardly ever working, it did post relics of its functioning past with suitably strange and funny strips of Imbibers Past.</p>
<p>Details about its demise still aren’t clear to me. Red Room seemed to be thriving, but it’s partner, The Grill, was apparently losing too much money in the wake of new constructions downtown and the whole ship went down. After a brief posting on Facebook, Red Room closed its doors forever. Then a fire soon after robbed any hopes of bringing it back. Many many people were frankly devastated, lamenting on the Internet and to each other what a loss this was for Tucson’s ‘keep it weird’ hopes in the midst of downtown’s current swanky resurgence. It was just a shame and every time I pass the empty, burnt out lot on Congress, gaping like a missing front tooth, I give a sad little sigh.</p>
<p>*sigh*</p>
<p>But one of the reasons for this sudden trip down Memory Lane was the Red Room revival at Tap & Bottle for Halloween. Almost all of the folks I remember from those days – in front of and behind the bar, on and off stage – were there. They even reproduced Blue Bob Dylan. Hank Topless, Amy Rude, Danta Rosano, and Golden Boots put us all in a nostalgic mood. Even George Rosenberg played piano as he always used to during happy hour. There was a photo booth – though it actually worked – and tater tots, though they were kinda soggy – and we were happy as clams. Turns out Red Room was really about the people, and we’re still here and still pretty weird.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/da9585813e91eebfb5e620446aab0fe0d9b7232e/original/redroomrevisited01.jpg?1501690865" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Tap & Bottle’s recreation for Halloween 2014. You can even see Hank Topless’ hat. Credit: Jamie Laboz</em></p>
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<p> </p>
<p> </p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/35327502014-10-30T16:23:59-07:002017-08-02T09:25:36-07:00the stray guitar that followed you home<p><em>Here’s a guest blog from my dear ol’ dad, Tom Williams. It’s his fault that I play guitar at all, and he’s also quite the teacher (taught high school History among other things) and story teller, so I asked him to do a write up for yall on a subject that is dear to his heart, rehabilitating stray guitars. Note that all irregular spellings are done on purpose – just pretend you’re reading a mix between Mark Twain, Jack Kerouac and William Faulkner. Take it away, Daddy!</em></p>
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<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/7109cb13aecb98d0628def450305ab95a99f6b86/original/daddy-at-singletons-copy-224x300.jpg?1501690930" class="size_orig justify_center border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p class="wp-caption-text">Ol’ Tom gonna set you straight</p>
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<p>So, you saw that old, funky, messed up guitar in the garage sale, pawn shop, flea market or trash bin. Now what to do wid it?</p>
<p>The following info is not for folks seekin’ room décor, it’s for “players”, “pickers” or guitar lovers without a bunch of spare money. Maybe you got it cheap, trashed or given to you! That’s good stuff! There are no axes without utility. Save any and all busted axes or parts, They are FREE! They might be just what you need to make sompin play again.</p>
<p>Store those junky articles in a safe, dry place that yer “main squeeze” won’t trip over or complain about! Lean your treasure against the sofa, then sit and slowly sip sompin cold and DIG yer guitar. What is rite, and what is wrong? What is needed? Pick up yer find and evaluate it. Future project? Junk (parts) stash? Holy cow, I gotta get this workin’!</p>
<p>First, clean that thing up. you’ll feel better, ‘so will the axe. ‘neck fried? if it’s got an adjustible neck and is too awful to play with comfort, tinker wid it. if it has weird backbow and such, do the flea market setup cure. take all the pressure off and let the neck RELAX ’till the morrow (and I know that ain’t easy!) some well meanin’ pilgrim probably over-tightened the trussrod instead of taking down the saddle.</p>
<p>Check for cracks, loose braces, loose bindings and sech. is the bridge pulling up? fix it! it kin only get worse. it will NOT heal up and hair over. use elmers wood glue. DO NOT use white school glue (chewing gum is about as suitable) and DO NOT use epoxy (that ends all hope of future repair). yep, you are thinkin’ SUPER GLUE. you’ll stick yer fingers together, mess up the finish and make you live with yer mistakes. and, you’ll see ‘em every time you pick up that axe!</p>
<p>Now, DO NOT let yer uncle, the handy guy, refin yer axe. if it’s a fine guitar you’ll cut the value mucho, if not a fine guitar, think “old blues man”, maybe BLIND LEMON JEFFERSON played this! the refined types might consider black, red or brown permanent markers for minor nicks. I think a damp rag, although I’ve actually used spray cleaner , should work. if you must have it shiny, just a verrrrrrry small dab of lemon oil on an oooooold tee shirt!</p>
<p>Now, if you need to glue that bridge down, gently prise the whole shebang off and use wood blocks, C-clamps…..oh, you don’t got ‘em, caint afford ‘em and all that? you can run stove bolts through the bridgepin holes and dog ‘em down and — I swear I have a bud who did this — brace broomsticks between the ceiling! and wood blocks on the wings of the bridge! and, if you must put screws though the bridge, DRILL holes and use SMALL nuts and bolts, BRASS nuts and bolts that run about 20 cents per at most any hardware store. old timers say the brass IMPROVES the sound. I once saw a GUILD D40 with FOUR bolts. it really sounded good. ‘course that wuz 1967, so I dunno.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/6667fa8ec27b0d42eee2a848e51da2c7f39efb41/original/daddy-in-pr-225x300.jpg?1501690983" class="size_orig justify_center border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Playing on the beach in Puerto Rico</em></p>
<div class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_1811" style="width: 235px"> </div>
<p>Ahem, now, I hope you took off those old strings. I don’t give a rat’s ass, change ‘em. but not yet! now that yer beast is clean, cracks healed, and bridge secure, check the machine heads. use a LITTLE oil, use a screwdriver on the set screws, replace ‘em via the junk stash or — horror — buy some new ones.</p>
<p>Ah, the neck. the trussrod is loose about 90% of the time. dealers love to get $40 for a very easy job. if you don’t have one by now, beg or buy a trussrod wrench. ebay has ‘em. they cost only a few bucks, and now people will think you are a qualified guitar tech! imports use an allen (hex) wrench, newer MARTINS too, most other USA stuff is GIBSON or GUILD size. ‘member, RIGHTY TIGHTY, LEFTY LOOSEY! either look down the neck for top load trussrods, or hold the thing in yer lap and push AWAY to tighten a “through the hole” adjustment nut. do this slooooowly. check by lookin’ down the neck often. you want a tiny bit of relief, not totally straight.</p>
<p>If you have an adjustible saddle, lower the action via the screws. if you have a drop -in saddle, don’t be afraid to take it out of the slot and use a combination of BUCK KNIFE and file to trim it down. if you get too low, shim it back up with strips of playing cards. use the adverts and jokers for this, unless you play poker wid wild cards. I like “fours, whores and mustache men”! but I digress.</p>
<p>now,string it up. only bluegrass people should use medium gauge strings. they wont let you do steven stills licks down the neck, and they are hard on old guitars. if you must use ‘em, do like bobby zimmerman in the old daze. tune down one or two frets and capo up. it sounds good on blues, funky! use extra-lite(10’s) or mid-lites(12’s). the latter give you volume, tone and good action. the former, just good action.</p>
<p>time for the secret stuff. the nut is often overlooked or abused. you oughta invest three bucks in a cheap set of small files. check the cheapy bin tools. a stewmac 1st string file would be nice, but….. anyway, about a credit card height is OK at the first fret. for steel strings, mebbe two quarters, three at the most at the 12th fret is acceptable. most serious players like the 1st string lower than the rest. the rest should be level with each other.</p>
<p>got the slots too low? gently use a wood block to tap out the nut. now you’ll use a slothead screwdriver between the 3d and 4th strings tapped wid yer phillips head! shim that rascal up.</p>
<p>one slot too low? tape the slot front and back, put in baking soda, level, add two drops of SUPERGLUE, and file it even with yer needle files and recut. hey, LET IT DRY! 30 min to an hour. you kin wait! watch the news, that’ll make you play the blues! the secret……….RAMP the slots slightly toward the peghead. most “wolf tones” or “buzzes ” relate to the lack of this tip.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/3fb02cea16e1b4f9a35b1255cee7f2c2959fde80/original/daddy-studio-cropped-226x300.jpg?1501691022" class="size_orig justify_center border_none" alt="" /></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>In his study, Redneck Studios, and his element…</em></p>
<p>for a drastic bowed neck, if you don’t have big C-clamps (2X4, fulcrum block, and sech), use a bunggie chord to secure the guitar to a table or chair, use a chair back as a fulcrum, wrap the neck (san strings!) in tinfoil, hang a brick off the headstock! yipe! and place an iron set to medium on the fingerboard for, say, 10 to 20 min. changing position ever min. or so. the glue under the fingerboard will soften, in theory the neck will slip forward, and, kapow! now, take off the heat source. the iron will attempt to burn you, and the telephone will ring, and yer eye will itch, so be careful like mom told you. but, did you listen? let it alone until the next day. OK, OK, I know you won’t do that, leave it at least a couple of hours!</p>
<p>now, get several windings on the stringposts, goin’ DOWN, not UP. ‘makes way better tone. DO NOT cut off the strings until you are dangged sure it’ll tune up without slippin’ the strings.</p>
<p>now, string it up and play. make minor adjustments. also, I have found that adding a BANANA sticker to the headstock face will improve the tone/action/vibe. Donovan told us about that in ’67. also, feather fetishes hanging on tuners and rattlesnake rattles in the body will all add to the utility of the piece. finally, sit in a beat up chair lookin’ at the rain through a smudged window while you mess about on the strings. that will be the payoff!</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/35327512014-09-24T11:44:32-07:002017-08-02T09:32:41-07:00thank you, cyril<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">It’s been very sad for a big chunk of the Tucson music community as well as many, many other people around the world. Songwriter, musician, carpenter, campfire cook and friend, Cyril Barrett, sings no more.</span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/622dcc1f80d2c55327ab1499a4a188c0f71fb8fe/original/cyrilprofilepic.jpg?1501691342" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>
<p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;"><em>Photo by Krista Niles</em></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;"><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">He’d become a fixture in Jamie’s and my lives. First as a fellow musician – when Jamie and I met him, he was in The Possibles with our friends Tom Moore, Brian Green and Fen Ikner. We’d sit in with them sometimes – me on background vocals and Jamie on lap steel guitar – and I was always blown away by the nuances in his songs. </span></span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">He’s been called the missing link between Bob Dylan and Merle Haggard and that sounds about right. Clearly influenced by outlaw country and Americana – but always with a certain twist in the chords or a melancholy slant that both perked up your ears and ached your heart. </span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">He was a gray wolf – in hair and nature. Completely giving and kind yet also keeping himself in his own little fortress of solitude. But when you sang with him, he’d look you in the eyes – and his were clear blue and soul full. It was unnerving in this era of down-turned faces, and my shyness made it difficult, but eventually I learned to look back. </span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">He was also a contractor by day – a natural carpenter who hadn’t picked up a hammer before coming to Tucson 12 or so years ago – but since then becoming an expert on most things home. When we bought our house, we hired him to paint the rooms. He helped us choose colors, contrasting walls and ceilings – never too crazy but never ordinary. Just beautiful. He said that as he stroked the paint on the walls he’d transmit thoughts of wellness and abundance. There was art and grace in whatever he did.</span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">He’d collaborate on strange little ideas we’d have – an Alice in Wonderland door for our cat between our bedroom and Jamie’s studio – or replacing a glass panel in the front door with wood to protect against amps swung perhaps a bit unsteadily coming home. His eyes would get a far off look imagining the project, the effect. His voice would get that little boy lilt. His eyes bored deep, but gentle. Even at the end…especially at the end.</span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">More often than not he’d bring a guitar along. I’d cook dinner and we’d all jam on the back porch. Now every single part of this house is a piece of him.</span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/5f8ce8e3da1b51bc6e99263972dbe49b0f317161/original/p2190303-0345-768x1024.jpg?1501691418" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>
<p class="wp-caption-text" style="text-align: center;"><em>Cyril by the sea</em></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">There’s so much more to say – including this heartbreaking summer of watching a good friend die. But he was a man of privacy – never even had a Facebook account and became distressed when his friends put up a ‘We Love Cyril’ page to show their love and support when he was hospitalized. Had it taken down. I still never quite understood that side of him.</span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">It didn’t work though. He has friends from all over – his home state of Idaho, Europe, Seattle and of course Tucson – who cherish his memory. Different worlds that have collided, old friends and new recognizing a piece of him in each other. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/WeLoveCyril" title="We Love Cyril page on Facebook">The page is back up.</a> There are various memorials planned – and we held a tribute concert in Tucson on the Che’s Lounge patio. 14 different sets of friends playing his songs: How the Grass Grew, Down At The Piano, Coyotes of Sasabe, Sunset Hotel. His brother Bob brought a blown up photo of a Cyril I’d never known – young, in his twenties. So handsome with that little glint in his eyes. It was a roller coaster of smiles and tears that night, among others.</span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/aa869db9a5cb0653b3943c67e485a8ee9458397f/original/cyril-memorial-photo.jpg?1501691479" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">Young Cyril and his old hat.</p>
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<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">We’re also putting out a compilation album of his friends covering his songs – on the <a href="http://heathencall.com/" title="Heathen Call label">Heathen Call label</a> – and I wouldn’t be surprised if a LOT more people suddenly learned about this troubadour hiding in the desert. </span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/56a7c2636f7de11b93ee616d6cc314b195627b31/original/neko-cyril-tribute.jpg?1501691516" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;">His friend Neko Case wore a shirt of support on Letterman.</p>
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<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">We slapped up a quick <a href="http://www.cyrilbarrett.com" title="Cyril's website">website</a> with links to his music and such. But a part of me wonders what he would think of all this ‘exposure’?</span></p>
<p><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">Cyril, I hope you don’t mind. Your music was a gift to us and we feel like sharing. As usual the world – most of us – took it for granted while you were around. But your songs are still alive and kicking and your voice and words and melodies preserved. So if it’s okay with you, we’re going to see what other hearts out there will give them a loving home.</span></p>
<p><a href="http://www.cyrilbarrett.com" title="Cyril's website"><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">cyrilbarrett.com</span></a><br><a href="https://www.facebook.com/WeLoveCyril" title="We Love Cyril page on Facebook"><span style="font: 16.0px Arial;">Facebook page</span></a></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/35327552013-09-19T17:13:13-07:002017-08-02T09:34:52-07:00silent songbird: an ode to linda ronstadt<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/de845cd1768785904a8c208a9b241c2e902d1463/original/linda-ronstadt-blue-bayou.jpg?1501691649" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>I felt a cold wave pass through me when I saw the headline. “Linda Ronstadt has retired from singing due to Parkinson’s disease.” Even after a long career fully documented with almost 30 albums in styles from rock to swing to opera and Grammy awards (and nominations) out the yin yang, it made me sad. And scared. Stories like this expose one of the quieter fears lurking somewhere inside me – coldly creeping up my spine like a slow, poisonous spider – that one day I won’t be able to sing anymore. It wouldn’t even be the loss of performing in front of people or recording songs that would get to me. I’d just be devastated to no longer croon to myself while I sweep the floor. Depressed to be driving in the car, hear a favorite tune and not feel the utter catharsis of belting along in diva style. Singing is like breathing to me – whether anybody else hears it or not – and it makes me shudder to think of losing one of my favorite forms of expression.</p>
<p>But there’s another reason why I’m mourning the end of Ronstadt’s career: she was the first voice teacher I ever had. No, not in person – I’ve never met her. But back when I was a young girl in the wild suburbs of Jacksonville, Florida, entombed in my room of white and gold girly furniture brimming over with books and stuffed animals, I’d sit in a corner on the floor with my Fischer Price turntable, orange and white with that fat, flat arm and its suitcase stylings, and play a 45 of “Blue Bayou” over and over and over. Even as a bookish owl of a girl, I’d moon over such passionate longings for a home tucked far away with boats and water and where the folks are fine under that silver moon. I’d burble the low tones of the verse, hushed and sweet and then as the chorus came around, jumped those however-many steps to the top of my range, bellowing enough to make the book shelves quake.</p>
<p>“I’m going back someday, come what may to Blue Bayou”</p>
<p>Not that I had any idea what a bayou was. It didn’t matter. To me, Linda was what a Singer should be, with a voice that could be meltingly tender or hit you in the solar plexus with a baseball bat. And beautiful, too, with those huge dewey brown eyes, heart-shaped face and the telltale hint at her Hispanic roots in the flower in her hair. Of course I dug the fact that she was part Latina too.</p>
<p>My favorite part of her career was the early days with the Stone Poneys and her hard-hitting rockers like “You’re No Good” and “It’s So Easy”. I respected her later forays into other styles rooted in her family upbringing – the Nelson Riddle songbook, Pirates of Penzance and mariachi tunes, while sporting a demure bob. But to me she was always a 70’s “torch rock” singer with long hair wearing faded blue jeans.</p>
<p>Still, one of my favorite songs of hers is a deep cut from her 1978 release “Living in the USA” (that’s the cover with the tight perm and roller skates). It’s a beautifully poetic song, “White Rhythm & Blues”, penned by her then-squeeze JD Souther, about longing for what you’ll probably never find, like “Black roses, white rhythm and blues/And somebody who cares when you lose.”</p>
<p>Daddy had given me the album a while back and by this time I was playing in restaurants and needed some new material. I was smitten with this song in particular and it quickly became a favorite in my repertoire and a favorite of Daddy’s. Now the family joke is that every time I’m visiting home and there’s a guitar around he’ll inevitably holler “Do Black Roses!”</p>
<p>So over the years, I admit I had grown a <i>little</i> tired of always doing That Song whenever Daddy and I and a guitar were co-located. Even though I’d quickly lose myself picking that D chord. But next time I get the chance, I’ll be sure to belt it out extra loud for you, Linda. Your golden throat may not play for you anymore but the waves from the heart strings you’ve plucked are still reverberating through the ether. Thank you.</p>
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<p><em>Gorgeous background bayou image by <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/jetheriot/" title="jetheriot on flickr">jetheriot</a></em></p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/35327562013-09-09T16:23:06-07:002017-08-02T09:35:29-07:00the september tease<p>September is an odd month here in the desert. Every blog title or magazine article you come across on the interwebs talks of crisp breezes and the prospect of changing leaves. Here we are still waiting to say goodbye to the last three-digit day and dreaming of a high that’s lower than 90 degrees. I forget, does it ever get cooler? Is there a world where you don’t have to hide from the big yellow discus in the sky from morning til dusk?</p>
<p>Yes, of course, silly girl. Soon the page will abruptly turn to what feels like our true ‘summer’ – a time of easy weather that demands you go outside and stay there dammit. Each year I just know those cool evenings will be back by the end of September. And each year I’m reminded that it may not even be here by Halloween. But when it does come – that’s when we lie in our hammocks in the lazy drifting afternoons, and see how much of our day-to-day living we can move to the back porch. We’re just a little out of step with everybody else in the world, that’s all. And that’s part of the magic of Tucson, its own little world with its own set of rules. Our seasons are different, our gardening calendars are different, hell our time zone is different! I have survived quite well without springing forward and falling back every year.</p>
<p>A friend was talking about how some visitor from Los Angeles was poo-pooing our little burg “Is that all there is?” and how upsetting it could be to hear a town you’ve adopted dissed so. But a part of me kinda doesn’t mind. Those of us who come here from all around the country and world are drawn to something magic, something special. The clearness of the air, the otherworldly beauty, the serenity. The act of actually acknowledging and talking with people on the street or behind the cash register. The friends you bump into on 4th Avenue and convince you to put off your next appointment to have a drink at the Surly Wench.</p>
<p>And not everybody gets it. Which means that maybe it can stay that way a little longer before the sheer number of humanity muddies up its character beyond recognition. That may be wishful thinking – more and more people move here at an astonishing rate, despite the summer’s raging heat. Things are changing already – downtown is growing, a new streetcar is on its way (soon!) and lots of fancy restaurants and bars are cropping up. There’s <a href="http://www.tucsonweekly.com/tucson/is-tucson-getting-better-or-worse/Content?oid=3843046" title="Is Tucson Getting Better Or Worse? - Tucson Weekly">a controversy roiling</a> between those who salivate for these changes and those who are very nervous that a funky homegrown weirdness will get drowned out amid the urban makeovers. I find myself wavering between both camps. I just hope that the call of Tucson is still loudest to those who appreciate her unique charms.</p>
<p>Hey, there was a cool breeze this morning! We’ve been getting some on and off rains yesterday and today. I don’t think it’s here to stay – all the more reason to immerse every sense in this moment and gaze at the blanket of rain drops speckling the palo verde needles before the evaporate back into the sky.</p>Cristina Williamstag:www.cristinawilliams.com,2005:Post/35327572013-07-25T09:39:10-07:002017-08-02T09:36:16-07:00monsoon melodies and maladies<p>This is the part of the Sonoran summer you don’t get to see unless you stick around. Hang tough through that hot dry heat. Though you can’t blame fellow desert dwellers for skipping out – it’s a good time to drive north and rest your eyes on some mountain views or head west to bask in ocean breezes.</p>
<p>But for the rest of us, July is a time when the heat builds and builds during the day while puffy clouds pile on top of one another, then start to darken. As the office hours wind down, a breeze kicks up – branches sway as the trees and tall bushes start their slow, bobbing rain dance. Then faster, their arms flail wildly and you hear a distant timpani roll of thunder. My heart speeds up. The sun hides, the desert waits breathlessly, the birds hop up and down, up and down. Our collective hope stretches up and out like a bubble blown from a wand. Aching for a drop. Just one drop, even if it sizzles to oblivion on impact with the dusty ground. And when that drop comes, the bubble of hope swells ever fatter – we urge the Universe for just one more. Then another. And the patter of the sky’s tears finally fall and the bubble bursts, adding even more to the downpour.</p>
<p>Yeah, I kinda dig this season.</p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/161668/2d3aa4095ed09b58e017d26d1b179d74cea7929d/original/olive-tree-closeup-web.jpg?1501691760" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
<p>In my backyard, there’s a new kind of urban animal drama in July that revolves around bathing. I haven’t seen the cardinals in a while, but the mourning doves, mockingbirds and sparrows are still in abundance. I put out a terra cotta saucer under the branches of the olive tree, filling it in the morning with fresh cool water from the hose. It barely holds an inch, but it’s a pleasure to watch the action around this tiny man-made pond. The doves and the mockingbirds, being the bigger kids on the block, will swoop down and nudge each other off, playing their version of chicken until the loser flits off, waiting until the winner’s back is turned to swoop back in and sneak a sip. The sparrows seem the most delighted though. As the sun sinks and takes his burning light away for a few hours, one by one the sparrows hop-hop-hop into the circle of dust not covered by gravel, disturbing a sweet verdin along the way. They flip and flutter and flap their wings, twirling around each other in a great promenade. One robust young fella scrunches down especially hard, creating his own little dust bowl in the ground, so you can barely see him. A fluttery feather pancake. He rolls and crows and delights in the dirt.</p>
<p>Then a couple at a time take the one inch plunge in the saucer and puff up into tawny feather balls , splashing their little puddle until it’s practically empty while I laugh silently behind my window.</p>
<p>The teenage sparrows are overstaying their welcome. You can tell when there are two birds of about the same size, but one is frantically fluttering its wings at the other: Feed Me, Feed Me! Even though frankly she looks quite able to feed herself. The annoyed Mama tries to dodge the mooch, but eventually shuts her up with a regurgitated insect or two.</p>
<p>It’s generally a happy yard full of song. Even with a predatory housecat on the premises. But then again, Massi is a pathetic hunter. He’s a beautiful sweet awesome boy, but he couldn’t hunt to save his life. The birds know it by now and just go about their business, even the few times he gets the ambition to stalk. Which suits me fine. I’m not a big fan of providing mercy killings to half-dead animals.</p>
<p>The Desert Spiny lizards are fascinating neighbors. Every now and then I find one – like a little iguana – clutched to the brick wall next to the front door light, feasting on green lacewings and moths. One little feller, beat up or old or sick, most of its tail missing, has attached himself to our carport. Jamie found him by the door while I was out of town and started leaving water and some bits of food. When I got back, he pointed out the dark, slightly deflated lizard hanging out quietly by the garbage can. I started adding some rocks, to make him feel at home. Jamie picked up some meal worms. The little guy gobbled them up so quickly, we dubbed him Marvin (short for Starvin Marvin). He seems to be getting stronger, but is still so small compared to the other big lizards. But when another male came to threaten him with pushups and a puffed out throat, little Marvin stood his ground and did his own shallow pushups. Luckily I was there to shoo away the challenger so Marvin could get his rest. We don’t know what will happen to him. Stories like his don’t usually end well in nature. But we can’t help trying to help him. In any case, he’s fascinating to observe. I really hope he makes it.</p>
<p>—<br>Well, it’s the next day and Marvin has gone to the great basking rock in the sky. We both knew this could happen, but it was very sad. Jamie gently buried him in our yard close to where he last looked for refuge. At least Jamie helped make Marvin’s last days a little more calm and comfortable. And I made my first connection with a reptile. A little rock marks his grave and we’ll miss him.</p>
<p>Within the hour, I looked up from my laptop to see a pile of feathers flailing in the back of the yard. A big bruiser of a mourning dove I’d been noticing lately seemed to be wailing on some other bird – slamming his wing down like some steroid-stuffed WWE wrestler. I rushed out the back door and shooed him away, then inched close enough to see it was a fledgling mockingbird – a small fluffy version with the telltale white bars on its little wings. I was sure it was dead, lying flat against the pink gravel. But it was still breathing, and then it slowly lifted up its head, fuzzily looking at me through one tiny black eye. I crept back and hoped for the best (keeping Massi inside since this is a bird he could actually catch). Sure enough next time I looked it had hopped to the bushes, calling for food, rustling those wings for all it was worth until mom and dad found it and started shoveling food into its beak again. The parents patrol the perimeter around their young, ready to dive-bomb that mean ol bully dove next time he shows his beak.</p>
<p>Individual life is never guaranteed in nature, and often sacrificed to keep the larger wheel of Life going. And as much beauty and peace and calm as she provides – Mother Nature can be a right stone cold bitch. There I said it. But it’s still right. It is the way our planet works, the way balance is maintained. As a human with our too big brain (name that book) and a tendency towards anthropomorphizing, it can burst your heart with joy and tear it apart – one after the other, back and forth. But I’m still glad to be a witness to it in my little corner of the world.</p>
<p>—<br>Another update. A happy one this time. The fledgeling made a full recovery and is now well on his or her way to flying high in the sky.</p>Cristina Williams