What an interesting weekend! On Friday I had the rest of my tickets printed, completing that phase of the preparation for my concert next Sunday. On Friday night, I stayed home and relaxed, enjoying the lovely change of pace after the busy week. I took the tv into my bedroom, and spread all my planning sheets around me on my bed, going over some last-minute details of the show. I was excited about some chord changes Wayne had made to two of my songs, so I played through the songs. Once again, I fell asleep with the light on, with my guitar, my song file and all my notes around me. I always feel a bit ridiculous when I wake up like that, and it makes me laugh at how flaky I can be – so different to the organised, focused person I have to be in other parts of my life. That’s why it’s called home, and that’s why home is my haven. It wasn’t always my haven. But that’s another story.
On Saturday I dropped some tickets at people’s houses, then developed a huge headache, which I suspect was migraine. I decided to cancel an appointment, and to lie down, so that I could be okay for my gig at The Food Lover’s Market that night. Although it didn’t quite work out that way, I managed to get rid of the headache by the time I got to the gig.
We started at 7:30, because Wayne had an earlier gig. The evening went very well, enhanced by the beautiful voice of our guest artist, Megan Francis, who sang four songs. It’s such a privilege to be hosting these guest slots, because I’m getting to hear and meet really talented young musicians. Like all the other people we’ve had as guests, Megan is not only talented and very musical, but also a lovely person, with such a cool style. She plays the piano, as well, which can only be an asset. This young lady will go very far, if she pursues music with all that passion I saw in her.
If I were to stop working in the industry I’m in right now, I’d love to work in the music world full-time, both as a performer as well as a promoter of young musicians. It’s so exciting to see, in my small part of the world alone, just how many gifted people there are. The fact that there’s so much raw talent around means there’s a need for more experienced people to formally guide, nurture and mentor the next generation. Younger people should benefit from the knowledge of those who’ve been in the industry for a while.
Today I went to town, for my lunch-time gig at Baran’s, but when I got there, the weather was really iffy – I’d had some rain on my way there – and we needed to make a judgement call about the gig, which was supposed to be outside, alongside the actual Greenmarket Square. I left the decision to Baran, who decided we shouldn’t take a chance. I called the musician I was going to do the gig with, and cancelled. I was really disappointed, because it was Errol Dyers, and it would’ve been our first gig together. I’ve always admired his music, and was really looking forward to the gig. Nice guy.
Before I left the restaurant, I met up with DJ and sound engineer, André Manuel, who’ll be recording the concert; he took a look at the sound setup there. It was good to connect up with him again. As all the elements start falling into place, I can feel my excitement growing. Last week, I secured the services of a photographer I haven’t met yet, but whose work speaks for itself: Lavonne Bosman. You can see her exquisite, unusual work on www.lavonne.co.za. She recently photographed the weddings of two of my colleagues, and I was so impressed with her shots. We’ve chatted on the phone, and I’m ecstatic that she’s agreed to photograph the concert.
My children came home at 6 this evening, and I had just a few hours to do all my housework, in my usual attempt to have the house organised by the time they get here. It’s quite crazy living like this (“joint domiciling” is the legal term), but we do. And somehow it works. Each of the four of us lives two distinct lives. I’m not even sure I’d know how to live just one life, given the opportunity! What does disturb me is that the children get the worse deal – the adults live in one place all the time, but the children move, every seven days. I don’t think this is the ideal arrangement, but I honestly don’t know what is. Sometimes I cynically speculate as to the careers they might choose later on – circus performers, maybe? Travel journalists? What I do know is that, because of my own turbulent childhood, where the longest I ever lived in one place was four and a half years, I have a deep need to put my roots down, a very strong need to call some place “home”. I’ve lived in my current house for almost 13 years, the longest I’ve ever lived in one house. But it’s not mine.
When my children are away, my evening meals are usually simple, quick, eat-to-survive kinds of food: seed loaf toast with all kinds of interesting toppings (usually involving smoked snoek paté, avo, cottage cheese, chutney or sweet chilli sauce), baked potatoes (same toppings) and then of course the trusty old 2-minute noodle option. Boring as hell, but does the trick. When they’re away, I work late, come home exhausted and eat something in front of the tv, iron my clothes for the next day, then either work on my music, read or journal, after which I soak in the bath, wake up in it much later (sometimes 1am or even later!), and make my way to bed, vowing that I’ll shower the next night, and not do that to myself again. The alarm wakes me up at 05:45, and it all starts again. Get up, shower, get dressed, eat, leave, work work work, home, etc.
One of the things I get used to when they’re away is silence. But all of that changes once they’re back. Especially in the first few hours that they’re back, I can’t believe anyone can talk that much, have that much to say! My daughter (11) has a need to narrate (now where could she get that from?!), and my son (14) is my resident stand-up comedian. He turns everything into an opportunity to ham it up. He’s so funny, I sometimes cry with laughter! God, he’s funny! And when I succeed at making him laugh, his laugh is so crazy and infectious, he has us laughing at him! And so together they fill the house with their energy and their wonderful spirits. My mom, who’s lived on the premises for just two and a half years, always tells them how she’s missed them, but I seldom do. It’s understood that we miss each other, but it’s a coping mechanism that we don’t say it too often. My daughter says it a lot, though. That’s just her personality – she says what she wants to say. I hope she never loses that quality.
And now, with these two fast asleep in their rooms down the passage, it’s time for me to call it a night. At 11:10pm, this is an early night for me. I wonder if I should play my guitar for a while?
You see? It starts!
