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Yesterday I went down to the internet café, after about a week, and found an inspirational (“Thought for the day”) e-mail from my best friend. The piece dealt, quite poetically, with the issue of hard times, the writer concluding by saying that, no matter what she’s going through, the one thing she promises herself is that, every single day, she will write.

In the same uncanny way the odd horoscope seems to tap into our circumstances directly, this piece felt like it was meant for me.

La Vem a Baiana, a samba sung by Jussara Silveira, playing on my laptop now – such a cool song! :-)

Back to the point - things have been really tough for me, financially, and I’ve come face to face with some of the difficulties many people in our country have to live with all the time. Some of the decisions I have to make, make me laugh at the irony and ridiculousness of it all, because I have to choose between equally important expenses, in order to make the money stretch. One of the main lessons this time of my life is reinforcing in me is to take an interest in people around me and to lend a hand where I can, because everywhere around us, people are in need. Even the regular “beggars” at my door know that, when I have, I give.

But here’s the point: at the end of every day, I write. With a pen. In a book. Old-school, as they say. I write whatever needs to come out. Sometimes I record the day’s events in point form, because I’m tired or don’t feel like writing a lot, but most of the time I write more reflectively, introspectively, exploring below-the-surface issues. I also write descriptively, and sometimes when I take my old journals out and read my entries, the descriptions take me right back to the events and I laugh at some of the strange things I’ve experienced over the years!

Writing has been my way of getting through all the difficult times of my life. I write because nothing else gives me the release that writing does. If I were to lose the use of my hands, I’d find some other way to put words down on paper or on a keyboard. Writing is such an intense part of my life, it’s far more intimate than a lover.

Much like my songwriting, my journalling is a form of narration, but also catharsis, with the former merely written more artistically.

Yesterday I listened to a recorded interview of John Cleese, British actor and comedian (star of, amongst others, Fawlty Towers, Monty Python and more recently, the movie, Spud) by Cape Talk Radio presenter, John Maythem. The most interesting thing Cleese said, in my opinion, was that the creative process was a spontaneous, emotional thing. He said we’re encouraged to be logical, to follow the rules, and that men, especially, found this a constant pressure in their lives, while women seemed to find it easier to be less logical and more emotional/spontaneous, and therefore were often more in touch with their creativity. This was in response to a question about how he and his fellow scriptwriters had come up with a particular skit. He started by saying that there were no rules or formulae, and that the creation of anything worked a lot more spontaneously, more randomly, starting with a spark of inspiration which could come from anywhere. As a songwriter who’s written about topics as diverse as love, divorce, abortion, friendship, infatuation and libido, I could most definitely relate to what he was saying!

This morning I got an sms from a friend who’d been on my mind a lot recently, and I was so excited, but also frustrated because I didn’t have airtime to reply. I felt myself veering towards brooding about what I didn’t have, so I willed myself in the opposite direction, focusing on what I did have: I decided that, as the one thing I had loads of was TIME, I should do something with my time that would put my feelings out into the universe. I put on about 45 minutes of my favourite music and danced, danced, danced! I danced to celebrate the beauty of friendship, the new day and LIFE, with all the potential it held for each one of us. Afterwards, I had a shower and put on a bright yellow T-shirt, because that’s how I’m feeling.

I’m a typical Capetonian – when the sun shines, I put on a T-shirt, and when it rains, I put on a pot of soup!

Listening to Melanie Scholtz’s album, “Connected”. Velvet voice, clever lyrics, great band (The Love Apples).

I’m often struck by how extremely disparate the different aspects of one’s life can be: yesterday, amidst all my unemployment-related difficulties, I used my last airtime to send an sms in response to a radio competition, and to my surprise (but not entirely, because I’d felt the success and experienced the future phone call when I sent off the sms – this is something that’s hard to explain, but I’ve always had it), I was one of the winners. Yay! I won two tickets to tonight’s premiere of the movie, The Bang Bang Club, courtesy of Cape Talk Radio. It’s in Brackenfell, and right now I have NO idea how to get there, but between now and then, I’ll have sorted out all the niggly details. Don’t you just love winning things?! I saw some footage from the movie on last night’s documentary tv programme, “3rd Degree”, and I now know what it’s about. I also know that it’s not easy viewing, definitely not escapist theatre, and that I’m probably going to be closing my eyes - and sometimes my ears - when it gets too hectic, but in the end, I will have had an experience that will have impacted on me in some way. Let’s face it, if the recent Pirates of the Caribbean could have impacted on me, then there’s no doubt that The Bang Bang Club will! :-)

Listening to Michel Petrucciani’s Live in Tokyo album. His composition, “Home”, is one of the most moving pieces of music I have in my entire (not huge) CD collection. Played superbly by himself on piano, Anthony Jackson on bass and Steve Gadd on drums, this hauntingly beautiful piece starts off with a single line melody on piano, played loosely, then grows into the trio doing a laid-back bossa, and moves into a swing, with lots of vibrant energy, completely different to the mellow beginning. At the end of the piece, they revert to the lead melody in a gentle bossa, with a splendid flourish of an ending, followed by the final notes on the high end of the piano. Stunning!

Time to go! So much has happened since I started writing. The rest of the day awaits!

My talk at the Women's Wellness Breakfast on Sat 2 July 2011

IMPORTANT LESSONS I'VE LEARNT (AND AM STILL LEARNING!) ALONG MY JOURNEY TOWARDS LIVING MY AUTHENTIC LIFE

Many years ago, a wise woman said to me, “Live your truth, and the universe will support you.” That was about 10 years ago, but it was one of those things that took root inside of me, and subsequently became my philosophy.

Someone once asked me – and today I’d like to ask you - “If money were not an issue and failure not a possibility, what would you spend your life doing?”
In my case, there was no hesitation; my answer was, “Music.”
Knowing what you’d like your life to be about is just the beginning, but it’s a good start.

I’ve decided, because I am so passionate about the guitar, to use the six strings of the guitar to share with you some of the insights I’ve gained, over the past 9 months, during which I have been trying to support myself as a self-managing musician.

1st string: E – It adds an interesting aspect to whatever’s played, has a high pitch that can be quite irritating, is often the one that breaks under pressure. It’s nice to have it as part of the full set, but when you have to do without it, it’s actually possible to play your guitar just fine that way! From my perspective, having played the guitar for 33 years, this is the only string you can do without and play complete songs without being seriously compromised.
E = Everyone else’s expectations of us
I’ve come to understand how strong the messages are that others give us about ourselves – our parents, our siblings, other family members, our teachers, our colleagues, our friends and even our partners. The ones we were given repeatedly as children seem to stick like Super Glue. As adults, we tend to live our lives according to some script we were handed that we’d unconsciously been rehearsing for years.
One of the biggest challenges for me, in trying to live my truth, is seeing how many of my choices and patterns come from trying to live up to other people’s expectations of me. Acknowledging that they’re not always right for me, and accepting that I have a right to choose a different path, is both liberating and scary. It’s also important to be understand that dealing with this issue is not a moment, but an ongoing process.

2nd string: B – This one you can’t do without. In fact, the second string is a very good string for playing the melody line, for playing or taking the “lead”. It forms an essential part of most chords, and provides a clear treble sound that indicates the highest frequency or purest sound of the chord.
B = Believe in yourself (your judgement, your instincts, etc.)
Another aspect of this journey I’ve come face to face with is that it is a very personal thing and, if you want others to believe in you, you HAVE to believe in yourself. Once you’ve identified what is authentically YOURS – YOUR dream, YOUR truth, YOUR path, YOUR authentic self, call it what you like – you have to focus on it and go for it, despite what others say. Well-meaning people will give you all kinds of advice, often trying to dissuade you from your chosen course. It’s easy - especially when the people talking to you are assertive or persuasive, or are people you’ve listened to for years, having them question and override your decisions - to give others the benefit of the doubt and allow them to convince you that you should be doing something else. The people who don’t understand will label you stubborn or selfish, but you’ll soon figure out who you can and can’t share your ideas with. Practically everything that people say to us is a lot more about them than us. Stephen Covey, author of “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People”, says, “We see the world not as it is, but as we are”.

3rd string: G - this is the string that I have the most trouble with, the one that seems to slip out of tune the most. Whenever I pick up my guitar after it’s been in its case, this is the one I have to tune. At gigs, after the breaks, we check our tuning, and it’s always the 3rd one, the G-string, that needs to be brought back in line. I turn the tuning peg and listen to it, and once I’m satisfied that it’s where it’s supposed to be, I go ahead and play my guitar. But after a few songs, when I check the tuning, it’s lost its tautness, and I have to tighten it again. If I don’t, then everything I play will sound out of tune, wrong, unpleasant. To produce the sound I want, I have to take a few seconds and get the string to sound absolutely right. It’s something I’ve dealt with for a long time – might just be peculiar to my guitar, but this is the only one I’ve used for the past 14 years.
G = Guts (Courage)
This is an area I struggle with a lot, no matter how many times my plans work out, no matter how much experience I gain along the way. Even though I know I’ve been a musician for so long, of course I can do it, I still have to keep psyching myself up to go out there and do it. Marketing oneself takes a lot of guts, especially when you do cold, face-to-face marketing, where rejection could be immediate and ruthless. I have times when my courage is low and other times when I feel I could conquer the world. Having a close circle of people who support your journey, through thick and thin, helps when the hard work does not automatically translate into success.
When you’re putting yourself out there, if you’re not doing so believing in yourself and being courageous, it will come out that way, and you diminish your credibility, your ability to inspire confidence in people.

4th string: D - This string is the one that visibly perishes the fastest. If you’ve used a guitar for a while and not changed its strings, you’ll see that the 4th string looks worn out and needs replacing. The reason is that this string is also played in most chords and even though it’s one of the three bass strings, it is the thinnest of the three and takes a lot of strain. Often, replacing just this one can make the guitar sound like you’ve replaced the whole set of strings.
D = Dream
For me, as for many people, my main dream has been the same for many years – to be “a successful, full-time musician, living my passion and living my truth”. Over the years, I had a day job as a teacher and then as a manager, and that kept the music side of my life a part-time, semi-professional hobby. I’d drive to work, day after day, going over this affirmation and others, doing visualizations about my dream. But some days I’d forget, I’d be too busy, or there’d be so many other demands on me, that the dream would start to perish. Sometimes we put our dreams away, and, like a wedding dress worn decades ago, we take them out every now and then, look at them and wonder….. And then I was retrenched, and I had nothing standing in the way of my dream. And yet, it wasn’t that easy. I’ve always had a dream, and it’s very important to have a dream. If you’re not sure what yours is, think about my first question. The dream is the start. I can’t imagine not having goals or dreams to work towards.

5th string: A - This string is not quite the biggest or the deepest of the 6, but it’s very, very important – the 5th and 6th strings are like two lotto winners, equally important, sharing the jackpot. These two strings provide the bass notes to your chords, rooting them. Without them on your guitar, you’ll have a serious problem – you’d probably have to cancel your gig or borrow someone else’s guitar, if you don’t have spares.
A = Action
It’s all very well to have a dream and to believe in it, but without the necessary action, that’s all you’ll have – your dream. I read in a newspaper article in January, “A dream is a goal without a plan.” It was a quotation by Antoine de Saint Exupery, the writer of The Little Prince.
I’m very good at making detailed lists, planning a course of action, but my plans often remain on paper – works of fiction. I’ve learnt that when I apply myself, when I take action, I achieve success, when I don’t, I stagnate.
But more than that, I’ve learnt that after that initial step, I need to do the next step and the next step and the next step. FOLLOW UP & THEN FOLLOW UP & THEN FOLLOW UP…
Sometimes the opportunities are there, just waiting for us to follow up with ONE more action step.

6th string: E - The deepest of the 6 strings, the one that gives most chords their root, their frame of reference, their point of departure. The bass line can be played alone, moving a piece of music in a particular direction. Again, you might as well cancel your gig if you don’t have a 6th string. Everything you play will sound like it’s lacking something, like there’s a vacuum of sorts. The sound produced by this string drives the piece of music, giving it its underlying identity.
E = Energy
At the root of everything on this journey, is your energy. This is something that can’t be faked. There are different aspects to energy, but basically I’m talking about things like physical, intellectual, psychological and emotional energy. When your energy’s right, you’re most likely to succeed. Each of us knows when we’re feeling on top of things, when our energy’s “on”, and we all know when we’re not! Identifying the things and people that drain our energy - and then doing something about it - is another challenge for us. Before you embark on your journey, especially the more public aspects (like advertising, promoting, etc.), make sure your personal ENERGY is good and healthy, in order to give others the right message and to predispose yourself to succeed.

Our energy is what makes us unique. We owe it to ourselves to surround ourselves with people, things and activities that fuel us, that give us good energy, and to consciously reduce and (if possible) eliminate the energy drainers.

I’d like to conclude with the question I began with: If money were not an issue and failure not a possibility, what would you spend your life doing?

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I started my presentation with one of my original songs, “Joe”, a tongue-in-cheek song about a man who caught my attention in a crowd. It’s a blues, and is quite humorous. At the end of my presentation, I gave my latest song, “Today I opened my eyes”, its first public audience. It’s a ballad I wrote in June this year. It starts out sadly and bleakly, then moves steadily towards a very optimistic, hopeful conclusion.

After the event, a few women came to chat to me, and the consistent feedback was that they really liked my lyrics, and would’ve liked to have heard more of my songs. One woman said she liked the fact that my songs told stories.

The organizer, Inez Woods, had afforded me a wonderful opportunity to promote my music, so everyone received a demo CD with my song, “I’m So Happy Today” in their goody bags. To my delight, during my Q&A session after my presentation, quite a few people expressed disappointment that there was only one song on the CD.

I really need to get that official debut CD recorded and released!

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Gadget-wielding ego-blogger

GADGET-WIELDING MOI
Tomorrow my hands and forearms are going to be very sore, in fact I can already feel the stiffness setting in. The reason is that I spent the morning gripping and manipulating something for an extended period of time. It’s something I’d considered for a while, but kept putting off, deferring to other tried and tested methods, like getting someone else to do it for me, but today the offer was made yet again and I decided, what the hell, I’d give it a bash.

What exactly am I talking about? Yes, you’ve guessed it – for the first time in my life I used a Weedeater! My whole backyard is now freshly cut, with unmistakable signs that the gadget used was wielded by a novice. It reminds me of when I used to cut my children’s hair, when they were toddlers. I’d stare in disbelief at the visibly skew fringes and wonder how I could justify keeping them indoors for a month, while the hair grew out.

EGO-BLOGGING
I discovered yesterday just how much of one’s (my) ego is involved in this whole blogging business; I checked my blog stats, and I realised that what I’d been interpreting as the number of times my blog had been read was in fact the number of times my profile had been viewed. That figure was 816. And here’s where the ego comes in – I beamed with joy when the number of blog reads came up as 3,363! The number of reads for last week alone was 253. Yes! That’s more like it! (I found it very interesting that the blog post with the highest number of reads was the one on Westerford High School’s 2009 prizegiving event.)

“Interesting” coming face to face with one’s fragile ego. This is not something I can escape or deny, so I’ve learnt to live with it and channel it. Let’s face it, everyone likes to feel noticed, acknowledged. That dynamic is an intrinsic part of being a performer, I’d say. In fact, performing is a very risky way to go about getting your strokes, because your audience is not always going to love what you’re doing. So many lessons I’ve learnt along the way I could only have learnt by experiencing. Every single time I prepare for a performance, I do some version of psyching myself for it, and I’m sure this is something I share with most other performers.

SING-ALONG AT OLD AGE HOME
Two days ago I went down to Douglas Murray Home for the Aged, about 5km from where I live, and did a sing-along with the residents. A friend had asked me to visit someone there on his behalf and sing to her, but that didn’t feel right to me, so I arranged with the Home’s management to sing to everyone, at a time that fitted in with their routine. While I was getting ready, I decided that doing a sing-along would make much more sense, which was what I did. There were some people who chose not to take books, for one reason or the other, but the general response was fantastic! A few of the residents are amputees, so they’re wheelchair-bound, and others just stayed in their comfy chairs (afternoon ‘chill’ time) all the time. This meant that no-one came up to sing through the mic, and I had to lead the singing for the entire session. But did they sing! Wow! I hadn’t done a sing-along in quite a while, and it was exciting to unearth my books, go along to a group of seniors, and just do it. Indescribably satisfying! I love singing and playing my guitar, people in institutions often have lifestyles that are bereft of pleasure and levity, music (I sincerely believe) is the ultimate universal language, so what an obvious thing to do. But the most important ingredient here is that I don’t sing TO them – it’s an inclusive activity, with them calling out their favourite songs from the index, and everyone singing together. I have no words for how that makes me feel.

This is not about leaving a gig feeling I sang well or got paid well – this is something else. My journey as a musician has led me to collaborate with people who GET this side of me. For many years, guitarist Keith Tabisher and I have gone to different churches and done these sing-alongs at fundraisers or Christmas lunches, mainly with seniors. We’ve also done a few sing-alongs at people’s houses, at birthday parties, etc. I put the first book together in 1997, and have since come up with three more, but the hot favourite is “the purple book”. We’ve done some sing-alongs where we’ve used two books, then we’d have people requesting, for example, “Number 30 in the yellow book”.

But this week’s visit and sing-along touched my heart deeply. Seeing people in their twilight years singing old songs (mostly love songs) with expressions on their faces that tell their own stories, brought a lump to my throat a few times. Occasionally, someone would say out loud, “This song was playing when my husband proposed to me” or “My late husband loved this song”, and I was made acutely aware of how raw and unbounded certain things are under certain circumstances. I’ve always been fascinated by group dynamics.

And so, with renewed belief in music as the ultimate stress reliever, happiness bringer and bridge builder, drawing people closer, regardless of age, class, religious affiliation or any other artificial barrier that negates our similarities, I end this post with a commitment to do at least a monthly sing-along, going to various places where old people live together in institutions throughout my city.

Maybe I should seriously consider reprinting the books in large print.

The ultimate full stop?

Sunday 3 July 2011

Picture: I took this about two weeks ago, on a rainy day. Cape Town winter in all its glory. Brrr!

Why do I blog? Why do I enjoy it so much, and why do I look forward to recording my thoughts in this way? I’m not quite sure, but I think it has to do with a number of things – firstly, I enjoy writing, playing with words. Secondly, I now know that people enjoy reading what I write. Thirdly, and here’s the rub, I suspect, it’s a form of putting down, for posterity, a side of myself that I’d like to leave behind. Is this bordering on the morbid? I don’t think so. Death is as much a part of life as the common cold – in fact, for anyone lucky enough to escape the latter, here’s a newsflash: you’re not going to be that fortunate with the former! Death is the ultimate full stop – or is it? Depends on your view on what happens afterwards.

Someone I know chose to end his life, exactly one week ago, and his memorial service was held yesterday. Since I heard the news, his family have been on my mind: his wife, his daughters - who, in recent months, I’ve come to know and become fond of - and his family of origin, not to mention all the other people whose lives he touched in some way.

I think the details of someone’s death shape the way we deal with that loss – when it’s an old person, there’s a certain inevitability, one has a feeling of closure, and people are heard to say things like, “She lived a full life” or “He had a good innings”, etc. And even though the person is sorely missed by the loved ones left behind, there is a level of acceptance. For those of us who are middle-aged (so strange to realize that I now fit into that category!) and still have one or both parents, it’s an issue I’m sure we all think about every now and then – I’d always wondered which one of my parents I’d have to part with first, and it turned out to be my dad. When he died, I accepted that he’d been sick and that that had caused his death, but over the years I’ve thought a lot about his lifestyle and wondered if he’d have lived longer had he made healthier choices. He died at age 74, and I wish he’d been around today, 5 and a half years later, for so many reasons. I didn’t realize, when he was alive, how much like him I was, and now I’m sorry I didn’t acknowledge and celebrate that more, share more of my life with him.

When there’s death after a long illness, that has its own peculiar set of issues, including relief, I would imagine. It must be very hard to see someone you love suffering, hanging on for months and months, going through all the phases of deterioration before your eyes, knowing that there’s going to be no healing, and that the only outcome is death. That person’s quality of life is reduced to almost nil, while those around, deeply affected, go about their daily lives desperately wanting the limbo to end, one way or the other. I would imagine there’s a fair amount of guilt experienced by people who have to nurse chronically or terminally ill family members for extended periods of time – I’m sure there’s a yearning for normality, for fun and laughter, and that the guilt arises because that yearning presupposes the absence of the dependent person.

Accidental death hits us hard, because the suddenness of it knocks the wind out of us, flings us into a state of shock, causes us to look at our lives differently, even if only till the shock wears off and we slip back into the routine of our normal lives. Death as a result of violent crime must have its very own set of issues, as well. This is something we read about in the newspapers, and people’s traumatic experiences become statistics, until we’re touched by the same horror, ourselves.

But how families deal with the suicide of a loved one has been on my mind this past week. How do you make sense of it? How does a child handle the fact that that was a choice made by one of her parents, one of the people whom you assumed knew all the answers and looked up to as role models? If I sound judgmental, that is definitely not my intention - I don’t know the specifics, so I’m unaware of what pushed this person to commit such an extreme act. All I can say is – if you haven’t walked in someone’s shoes and been fully aware of all the things he was dealing with, you can’t say what he should or should not have done. Nothing gives me the right to say he was wrong to have done it. As I said, all I can think of is how the close people in his life, especially his wife and children, his brothers and the rest of his family of origin, must be feeling now, the questions they must be asking themselves. For a child to lose a parent is profoundly traumatic as it is, but to suffer that kind of loss must be so much more so.

I got the news late on Monday evening, and my children were with me when I read the sms and reacted with shock to its contents. I told them what had happened and we ended up having a long discussion about dealing with life’s stresses and strains, about exercising all options, about never giving up, no matter what, about being prepared to talk about your most embarrassing situation to someone you trust, with a view to getting through and past the problem, no matter how long and inconvenient the road may be. Of course there was a lot I couldn’t discuss with them. They’re aged 12 and 16. As open as I am with my children, I always keep things age-appropriate.

For example – if I believe that euthanasia is acceptable, under certain circumstances (as I do), then why do I struggle with suicide as one of a set of options? I’m not religious, I don’t believe in Heaven and Hell, not to mention Purgatory, so what’s the issue here?

Personally, I can only base whatever I believe in, on this topic, on what I’ve experienced thus far. Yes, I’ve been in extremely unhappy situations, where I’ve wondered how I could carry on living under those circumstances, and yes I have wondered….. But somehow there was always an alternative that entailed giving tomorrow a chance. I extricated myself from an eight-year-long, intense relationship that had robbed me of my spirit, but guaranteed me material comfort, and moved on to live a life without the emotional blackmail and daily suspicion, drama and unhappiness that had characterised that time of my life. Aaah, blissful relief! Eight years – and what seemed like a lifetime – later, I uprooted myself from a marriage that had long ceased to be mutually fulfilling, where all kinds of boundaries had been crossed and respect had got lost along the way. Having come from a divorced family, it had never been my intention to walk that same path, and yet I did. I stayed longer than I should’ve, always giving others the benefit of the doubt, lacking the confidence to walk away, not trusting my instincts, not listening to that little voice inside my head, but when I did, I knew it wasn’t the easiest path I’d chosen. And now, 11 years later, I know for sure that that was the best thing I could’ve done. Yes, once again I incurred extreme material loss, but time has taught me that material things will never be more important than the people issues. You can always earn the money yourself and buy the things you like, and you’ll be much happier away from the toxicity of the dysfunctional relationship.

In any part of my life, when I feel I can’t breathe, when I feel my energy is being depleted, my oxygen levels dropping drastically, I know it’s time to exercise new options. I know myself well enough to know that it will always entail giving tomorrow a chance. Living my life incorporating the exercises and practices of the book, “The Art of Possibility” (Ben Zander and Ros Stone Zander) has intensified my curiosity about what tomorrow might bring.

In fact, I’m still in bed! Let me get up and see what today has in store for me!
Oh, wait, I have to write about yesterday’s event – looks like another day of two blog posts!

Forthcoming Women's Wellness Breakfast & my usual chit-chat

Picture: Inez Woods (life coach, Reiki practitioner, i.a.) outside Eden on the Bay, in Bloubergstrand, close to Cape Town. Read about her exciting event, a Women’s Wellness Breakfast (2 July), in the blog post below.

Friday 24 June 2011

Listening to Nic Rabinowitz on Redi Tlhabi’s show on Cape Talk Radio (567 FM). He does a slot on her show called “The Week That Wasn’t”, and he goes through things that have happened in the country – and around the world - in the previous week. He has a wonderful talent for imitating accents, and he seems to particularly like those of South African politicians. What adds to the funniness of his radio slot, is how Redi responds, laughing like she’s about to fall off her chair! He IS very funny, though: irreverent, takes on anyone, any topic, any religious group, any public figure – I’m sure he’s had to apologise to a few offended people during his career. I’d love to go to a live show of his, sometime. There’s one happening next month, I believe.

Speaking of radio stations, I had a really cool experience this week – I was interviewed on The Taxi, an online radio station (www.thetaxi.co.za), by Eric Alan. What made it even more special was that I was interviewed along with my mom, May Abrahamse, a retired opera singer. We were in the studio for two hours, and beforehand we wondered what on earth we’d talk about for that length of time. Well, not only did we get through it, but it was a lot of fun! Eric Alan, a well-known jazz presenter, showed exactly what makes him the radio legend that he is. He has a style that is understated, laid-back and disarmingly casual, yet when you watch him at work, experience being interviewed by him, and observe how he brings a whole lot of different things together while doing so, you realize what an amazing person he is, thoroughly professional, but also clearly enjoying what he does. He played quite a bit of music during the two-hour show, and I was chuffed that he allowed me to select a couple of tracks by some of my favourite artists, including Jamie Cullum and Rock Art (Hilton Schilder and Alex Van Heerden). One of the ways he keeps the energy flowing is by chatting to his guests during the playing of the tracks – this is, in my opinion, the secret to making the time pass easily and quickly. He obviously enjoys what he does, and I think that, if there’s anything I can take from that experience on Wednesday, it’s exactly that: as the cliché goes, “when you do what you love, you need never work a day in your life”. I’m starting to fully appreciate that, in every field of life, when you do what you do with passion, you can only succeed.

Which brings me to my own journey: my quest to make a living by being true to myself and doing ONLY what I love. As the months have passed (since my retrenchment in September 2010), the definition of “what I love” has undergone its own journey, changing and developing as I grew to understand the range of possibilities. This, in itself, is a fascinating part of this phase of my life, which feels like one of the most significant transitions I’ve lived through.

On Saturday 2 July, I’m taking part in an event organized by Inez Woods, the life coach I’ve had the privilege of working with since February this year. It’s a Women’s Wellness Breakfast, taking place at the picturesque Eden on the Bay, in Bloubergstrand. Starting time is 09:30 for 10:00, and tickets are R150. This includes a yummy breakfast, a morning of feeding your soul on the inputs of the three speakers, and a goody bag filled with one surprise after the other. The venue alone, right next to the ocean, is pure soul food. “Early Bird” and group bookings were R120. At this stage, I believe the event is sold out, but Inez is busy exploring the possibility of adding a few more seats. I will be reviewing the event in this blog, and all I can do at this stage is recommend that you e-mail Inez right away at woods.inez@gmail.com to be part of this event, or to secure your place at the next one, which is already in the planning stages. Make sure you catch the Early Bird or group discount, next time round. On the 2nd of July, I’ll be doing some performing, but am also one of the guest speakers. I’m enjoying working on my presentation, which will deal with some of the lessons I’ve learnt, from personal experience, about living one’s authentic life.

I’m very excited about this event – I’ve always believed that collective positive energy makes a lot possible, and I’m really looking forward to being part of this gathering of about 60 women who believe that life is indeed filled with possibilities. If you’re willing to attend an event with the theme “Women Against the Grain”, then I can only assume you’re an open-minded person, either defining yourself as part of that group, or, at the very least, curious about what it means. It’s exciting to think that I’ll have the opportunity to make some kind of input into the lives of some of those women. I’m also looking forward to the presentations of the other speakers, one of whom is Inez, herself.

Two powerful women from the USA are currently visiting South Africa – First Lady, Michelle Obama, and talk show mogul, Oprah Winfrey. Obama seems to be blazing a trail in the fight against HIV/AIDS and also pricking the consciences of young South Africans, urging them to value and rise to the challenges of the freedom they enjoy, a freedom fought for by their forefathers. Winfrey’s receiving an Honorary Doctorate in Education from the Free State University, for her role in educating young South Africans.

I’ve been without the use of my laptop for about two weeks, owing to my cable having given up the ghost. Last night, a friend lent me a spare, and I’m delighted to be sitting at my favourite writing spot in the house, once again happily typing away. It made me think about how we often only gain a true appreciation of what we have in our lives when we’re suddenly forced to be without it.

The fortnight away from my laptop coincided with some other unfortunate matters, and my energy has been really low, lately. In an emotional slump, new awareness dawns on me, and all I can do to get through the depression is believe that it will pass and that I will emerge on the other side with fresh insight, new coping skills and a readiness to tackle head-on whatever lies ahead.

Yesterday I made my way to my life coaching session reluctantly, wondering if I shouldn’t just have spent the cold, rainy day in bed, recharging my personal batteries, sleeping off the fuzziness. However, by the end of the day, I knew without a doubt that I had entered a new phase – for the first time in almost 9 months, I received a positive response to a job application, and I’m over the moon about the part-time, temporary appointment. It’s in the Education Faculty of the University of the Western Cape (where I studied BA and English Honours, many years ago), and it runs from mid-July to October. What a cool thing to be able to look forward to! “Pregnant with possibility” is the phrase that comes to mind.

So, yesterday was a day that made me feel like the universe was smiling at me again: I got the job, my daughter received her first high school acceptance letter, I was given the laptop cable, I had coffee with my best friend, I taught a guitar lesson to a cool friend who doesn’t seem to know just how musical she is, and a special friend cooked me a very special supper.

And life goes on.

A good place to start

Picture: A sunrise that took my breath away, on my way home after dropping my daughter at school, one day last week.

Tuesday 7 June 2011

People often ask me, alluding to my being out of formal employment, “So what do you do all day?” Well, it’s 9am and I’ve already had a cup of coffee, read part of a newspaper and put two loads of laundry on the line. Oh, and I’ve swept up the post-storm leaves in the yard. Next, I’m typing five documents, including two cover letters; I have to burn a few more copies of my promotional (demo) CD, and then I’m getting up to hang more laundry on the line, shower, get dressed, have breakfast and leave for about two hours of e-mailing job applications and marketing myself by personally walking into restaurants (minimum for today is three) with my publicity pack. At 2:30, I’m fetching my daughter at school and taking her to a medical appointment. Afterwards, I’ll practise my music for two to three hours; later this evening I’m connecting with my best friend.

Any other questions?

I live a varied and interesting life – in fact, I always have. The main difference now is that I’m flexing myself as a self-managing musician and entrepreneur, with all the inevitable highs and unavoidable lows that go with that kind of lifestyle choice. Yes, I REALLY miss the security of a predictable salary at the end of each month and the kind of planning and structure that that enables, and yes I do indeed fret about my finances and what I’m not able to afford anymore, and yes, I do aspire to increasing my earning capacity to equal or better what I earned in my last job. Yes, yes, yes. But that’s just one side of the equation; ask anyone who’s taken this step and they’ll tell you, despite the occasional anxiety and the sacrifices, it’s a journey well worth taking. I’ve always been a practical person, and I think I have a good take on when enough is enough. In some ways, I’ve reached that point, which is why I’m sending off job applications again, but what I do know for sure, is that, even if I do end up taking a “normal” job again, my hunger for music will always be there, and I will never stop that side of my life. Ask anyone who’s passionate about anything – whether you do it in a full-time or part-time capacity is nowhere near as important as the fact that you’re doing it at all!

What have I learnt, in the past eight months since my retrenchment? I have learnt to listen to people’s ideas and suggestions, because I may be able to play the guitar and sing, but I could always benefit from other people’s ideas about marketing and promoting myself. I’ve learnt that my shyness and modesty, while encouraged as virtues in my formative years, are obstacles in my current quest, and I constantly have to deal with them, like little ghosts from my childhood that come back to haunt me when I least need them to. I’ve learnt that I actually do have great ideas, myself, and that my real problem is second-guessing those ideas and opting instead for a more assertive person’s idea. I’ve also learnt that, when I do forge ahead with my ideas, not only do I achieve success and satisfaction, but my ideas are so obviously right for me. No-on can do Trudy like Trudy. No-one knows the full range of issues, regrets, fears, thoughts, feelings, actions, concerns, joys, memories, goals, dreams and desires that make me who I am. The person you see stepping up on stage, sitting down and picking up her guitar to play and sing has such a long list of things leading up to that moment alone, that the average person would say, “How the hell do you fit it all in?”

But I do, and I’d do it again and again and again, just to feed my soul with those minutes and hours of performing live music to an audience, something indescribably wonderful and satisfying, something that’s as natural as breathing, yet as complicated as life itself.

A lesson I’ve learnt in bits, over time, and am coming to terms with in all its complexity right now, is that I should be promoting myself – not hiding in a duo, not elevating other musicians while I do all the marketing, publicity, admin, etc. involved in getting music work. I am a brand that needs to be promoted. And if I’m calling myself a “self-managing musician and entrepreneur”, then I have to believe in my brand, be completely comfortable promoting that brand, and lose all the shackles of my earlier socialisation that keep me from maximising my communication, marketing and public relations skills to advantage that brand.

This is going to be a very interesting part of my journey. I have to do it in a way that feels right for me. How do I know that, in my case, self-promotion won’t be synonymous with arrogance? Because I know myself.

I think that’s a good place to start.

Thirsty (Written 06/05/11)

Picture: Colourful hanging glass bottles(?), taken in the grounds of the tranquil Montebello, in Newlands, Cape Town, in March this year.

00:45

Do you know what I feel the most, after a gig? Thirsty! In fact, having just downed a glass of water with a liberal dash each of orange and berry juice - it can never just be simple and straight up – I am about to drink my customary cup of green tea, as well as a tall glass of ice water!

But that’s not all I feel after a gig. I feel a huge adrenalin rush, which keeps me up way after I should get to sleep! I know that, later this morning, I’m going to want to scream, when that alarm goes off at 05:20!

My Thursday nights at Don Pedro, where I’ve had a solo gig since the end of February, have become very interesting indeed, and what I particularly love is that everything’s deliciously unpredictable. For me to be okay with that, and find it a good thing, shows just how much I’ve changed. Let me put it this way: according to my astrological birth chart, my Sun, Moon and Ascendant are all in Virgo, which makes me three times a Virgo. If you know anything about typical Virgo characteristics, imagine being 300% endowed with those traits! Well, that’s me. That probably explains a couple of things! :-)

Two weeks ago, I decided to depart from my usual repertoire of covers with a few originals thrown in, and do a whole night of my own compositions. It actually went very well, and people enjoyed my songs. I derived a lot of encouragement from the comments and feedback. Last week, I did quite a lot of originals, with just a few covers thrown in. But last week had a magic of its own: I did my second set with ERROL DYERS, a guitarist I’ve admired for years! I thought he’d play while I sang, but he insisted I play my guitar, and what an experience that was! I played and sang my own songs and he played around my playing. It was really a dream come true, and I felt like the luckiest, most blessed person on the planet. I enjoyed it more than anyone present could ever realize, although I think my Cheshire-cat grin and my air punching may have given them an idea! Some of my friends were there, and they took photos – I’d really like to get copies. Long before I met him, I liked Errol. He has a style of playing that constantly takes one by surprise. I watched him play at Theatre in the District, about two years ago, and I had goosebumps for his entire performance. I think that besides his incredible playing, he has a heart-warming smile and he’s so laid-back and ‘chilled’, that I can’t help but be fascinated by him. And there I was, on stage with him, playing my own compositions. Hard to describe, but let’s just say it was one of those memories I’ll cherish for the rest of my life. Definitely worth a blog post!

Tonight was yet another special Thursday night – firstly, my cousin (and best friend) Tracy went with me, and that in itself meant I’d have a fabulous time. During my break, a friend and his wife walked in, and that was a lovely surprise – Mark Kleinschmidt, who’d played Demetrius to my Helena, decades ago. I mean it: decades! Nice to see him, all these years later.

But the undeniable highlight of the evening was connecting with musician HILTON SCHILDER after a long time, and then having the pleasure of doing my second set with him! Hilton and I had done a bit of work together in the past, and in fact we’d recorded 16 of my originals in 2006. That recording project was never completed, and the tracks are still being kept for me. One day,……..

So, Hilton sat next to me on stage and played along with me on his melodica, which is basically a small hand-held piano that you blow into through a mouthpiece to produce a sound. Interesting sound. Particular, peculiar, needs a cultured ear. Once again, I did originals, with a few covers thrown in. Later, he accompanied me on djembe drums. SO COOL doing my material with Hilton, a prolific giant of a composer and someone who’s recorded quite a few CDs.

And now, with my patience running out for this tumble dryer (kids’ school uniforms, needed for tomorrow!), I think I’ll call it a night - have a speed-shower and get to bed, to SLEEEEEEEEEEP! If I can get to bed by 2, I’d have just about 3 and a half hours’ sleep. I should grab it. Tomorrow’s my mother’s 81st birthday, so another late night ahead.

How do I feel? Incredibly tired, sleepy, eyelids droopy, shoulders slouchy, can’t stop yawning. But you know what the overwhelming feeling is? Happiness!

It’s time, Trudy.