Taking the Electric Sabbath; a weekly pledge to ungoogle and unwind 

We may not longer go to church, believe in a white bearded father figure, confess our sins or pay a tithe, but it doesn't mean that there is nothing sacred left in the world. In fact, it could mean that we are taking back what has always been sacred, human and spiritually important for ourselves, in our own right. It's the day after yesterday again with more powerful and tempting Gods wining and dining our subconscience . One of them has ironically taken the form of an apple; my apple PC. What an interesting twist of fate that the tree-of-knowledge allegory has seen such literal and permanent place in our collective consciousness. It got me thinking; it's true, I fill myself up on way too much on information, *burp*, stimulation (omg), and all the five billion things this apple-knowledge can give me. I'm so grateful for it, but honestly- I'm absurdly addicted to it, and I can't imagine my life without it. But today listening to some great music it occurred to me; Janis Joplin, Mississippi John Hurt, John Lennon and a host of my favorite Saints never needed one minute of the cyber-mess. It's become really clear that I need to rethink how I am using my time; I need an Electric Sabbath, a cleansing period of non-use.

A peaceful heart isn't found on a search engine
Because as far as I can tell, being constantly connected certainly doesn't bring any more happiness to most people, but does bring a lot more pressure to everyone to be everywhere at once, answer even the smallest request within 24 hours, and be on call for God-knows-what at the drop of a dime. After all, being human is a pretty far-put experience no matter which way you slice it, and it's hard for me to completely disregard the magic living in the everyday ether, it's just that I can't experience it when I'm glued to the screen. Magic isn't a google-able, and I DON'T need to read every article on 'The Dailybeast' post before I go to bed. There is a great cost to this I am starting to feel, and though my life is an open Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/Cera.Impala.Music) wherein I have personal and professional page aside from my own website..(oh brother), I even have a twitter account I've been told is eventually the holy grail of all (https://twitter.com/banjomama) Why? Well, it seems there is no escape,..It's the business, it's what I'm supposed to do, but on top of this I manage three separate email accounts and three bands, engage weekly students, rehearsals, gigs, a strict songwriting regiment I am truly religious about, and most of all we a have child that lives apart from his entire extended family..(imagine the Skype dates we have to keep up with). It's insidious how sometimes small things stack up to one banging reality; I've been sitting at my damn desk ALL DAY! The balance of my work and private life is complicated and I need break. I NEED to spend more physical time with my son, my husband, my kitchen, my books, my music, the artful albeit rare silence I prize beyond all things. I NEED to stretch more, walk more, meditate (at all). It's time for me bring back a sacred space in my own life without the omnipotence of any organized religion. If that means letting go of a few gigs or a few fans, maybe it's all for the best.

The Pledge:
So from now on, for me, this means that once a week for a 24 period
1. I WILL NOT use the internet
2. I will not make phone calls,
3. I will not send or receive emails or
4. I will not watch anything but the occasional family movie
(if that's what the family collectively decides to do in the late evening).

Instead I will focus on my breathing and my family, play music, games, make art, listen to the radio, go on long walks, chat, cook, craft and adventure.

Wish me luck- although with all this free time I may just have my eyes open enough to see the first four-leaf clover of the year.


“We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole
that makes the wagon move.

We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that holds whatever we want.

We hammer wood for a house,
but it is the inner space
that makes it livable.

We work with being,
but non-being is what we use.”

― Lao Tzu


Immigration! Show us your papers- you dirty German lovin' Yank.  

Anyone that wants to talk about immigration but hasn't experienced it's churning wheels, coggs and grinding machine from the inside, is akin someone that's watched an ER marathon and then thinks they're a doctor. 

Even being married to a European citizen isn't quite enough these days to stay in Europe, especially great Britain and The UK is supposedly "cracking" down.  As of July 7th, if your visa application isn't in, and you are a non EU individual married to to a European/Britton, AND most importantly you make less then 22,000 a year (more if you have a child, as I do), then you don't get to live here.  Which, as pointed out by a member of parliament, would bar over 40% of the United Kingdoms citizens ability to have their spouse join them in their home country should their spouse not be from the European union.  Sounds completely bonkers, but somehow it passed,  and guess what?  I still  (insert nail-biting here) haven't received my paperwork back from Liverpool saying I'm cool to stay.  It's been there for four LONG months,.. and while we would have applied before hand (and tried to) you can't fill out the paperwork online as suggested because they don't give you enough space to answer the questions, and more importantly it involves sending off your personal papers (in their original form) including passport, marriage certificate, birth certificate,.. etc and so on. it's a bummer, but I need those papers to, you know,...go anywhere, for any reason. You have to hand them your life, and not step on or off a plane until they say so, which is difficult if your business involves travel. Besides, we only made the decision to leave Berlin as late as May, when the Dirk's job offer came through, and since were native english speakers and felt our opportunities (long term) would be better in the UK, we logically made the leap.  We understood at that point in time that the coutries in the EU must all abide by the same treaty laws... oh yeah, the UK is clever,..they only made public this little hiccup in June of this year, after we already decided to leave everything behind.  I wonder if they will reimburse me for my newly aquired addiction to valerian root and "The Good Wife" I now need just to calm my nerves.

We left the best flat in the world, proof that we had to have thought it through and not just impulsivily left our life.  It was a big decision.

Just to be clear,  I am not a convicted criminal, Dirk and I are both university educated (not that that should matter, but it does) and I am not only married to a European citizen I am MOTHER to one. I have held over five years in permanent working residence in Europe and I have only returned to the states once, for less than two weeks to visit my Nonnie, in California, (a place I do not call home). To boot, we came here for an official "by- the-books" job Dirk was offered (sound engineering for the Fringe & Jazz festivals- Spiegal tent).  We knew it the job wasn't permenent, but it was a foot in the door- which for Dirk and Harlen, it has been.  They both have been accepted in the NHS health care system (for instance), while I have been rejected. AND they (the border agency) can now send me back to the US at my own cost once my passport stamp has expired on December 29th.  They can force me to go away from my son for three months while they decide if I should be allowed to stay and If I intend to stay here, and If I do not return to the states it can damage my ability to re-apply for my visa, or citizenship, (which as you can imagine- I am greatly interested in as to avoid this mess). 

In short, it's a catch-22 nightmare. 

The biggest of all the problems being, while I contribute to society/culture (don't I?), my contribution isn't monetary (which is the only thing they care about).  If they do not inform me of my immigration status by December 29th, and I overstay my temporary visa,- I have no choice but to go on living, cooking, beathing with my family, working here in the community and carrying on,  but it may damage my future application, which has caused serious anxiety in my household.  Dirk is concerned we will have to move back the Germany (which would be very difficult for us, as a family, and to be honest- It would be the wrong thing for the world, not just our family and I think it would be traumatic for Harlen).  Not only that, but practically speaking, it is almost financially impossible. We have invested everything,-- 'hook, line and sinker' our hearts and fincances on the dream that, long-term, this would be the right place for us.  We are poor, but not in spirit and if ever there was a class-warefare goin on, it's happening now by rearing it's ugly head through immigration laws... and it's getting worse.  If you have powere to vote, or make an influential call, begin a conversation or not be apathetic in whatever way you can.... please do.
California and Mexico are the same land,
Least it would be if it weren't for some man
Came along with other men, and some big guns
to draw a line, right there in the sand, oh yeah they said

California, we just know we have to own ya
California, thing is- we don't know if we can offord ye,.. on no.
 
These words are a snip-et from one of my first ever songs found on the album "Before Berlin".  I learned later that California is/was name of an amazonian princess.  One has to wonder if she would have immigration isssues in today's political climate.  It never fails to amaze me how things always work their way back into your life in the most unexpected of ways....
fingers crossed we have no reason to worry, and this time next year Santa and I will be sipping whisky sours on a rainbow.
Subscribe with iTunes RSS feed Download

Santa revealed: Almost as Cool as Douglas Robertson, A Non-profit Businessman, Jolly Toker 

Jesus, Mary and Joseph, let's face it- Santa's got it in the bag, and  his "good" list is the list to be on. It's the gospel truth if you're mother to a four-year old, and while I might be racked with guilt for using it, I find myself referencing said list at least once every two days and it's not even December yet.  After all, where's the harm in a little extra good-behavior inducing magick?  I can't help it, I merrily and eagerly surrender to the other-world at every turn in life, and now I have very persistent reason that wants a kid-kitchenette for christmas.
Hands down, Santa is the best drug around and more effective than chloroform.
He is, without question, the ever-forgiving, double-checking, animal loving, kindhearted, hot-toddy drinking saint we all wish was our real grandfather.  Kris-Kringle is the image of perfect love; a jovial red-cheeked, non-judgmental soul who genuinely KNOWS what we've been up to, yet STILL always asks us how we are.

what's more?
His omnipotence doesn't ever seem to get in the way of his open interest in our lives, naughty or nice.
He's got a cuddly attentive velvet lap ready and waiting for us to just talk. Come to think of it,  maybe we could all save money on therapy if we just visited Santa every now and then because he doesn't ask for money and wants to know above & beyond anything else how he can make our lives better. He's a role model not just in his generosity, but in his organizational skills, time and elf-management, a successful marriage (although I daresay that Mrs. Clause could use a film or two of her own). It's not a surprise that he gives us a second chance from time to time, he's a flawed one himself. If his waistline is any indication that he caves to temptation, so is the smoke habit of his that oft encircles his head "like a wreath". I wonder if Santa didn't lobby against prohibition in the 20's and is part of the Colorado & Washington states most recent merry legal attitude toward the occasional green indulgence. Recently I  came across a new a politically correct version of "Twas the Night Before christmas" omitting references to a smoking Santa, but let's be honest
Allowed or disallowed their green, Elves will be Elves.
Given the time of year, we are looking for some escape from the dim reality that lies beyond the front door. Scotland is dreary and dark this time of year and Edinburgh is just shy of the Stockholm's latitudinal line.  I must confess that it's been an adjustment even from Berlin whose wicked winters will slap you till you forget your name and now it's an hour darker for us, even still.  It's no difficult task to see how the tradition of Santa emerged from Scandinavia; A mysterious jingle-jangle of a sleigh and promise of a few sweets from a jolly old Elf holds just enough magick to give the sun-starved, if not all together translucent babes a reason to see through another period of darkness. Vampires probably get more rays (and make more friends on account their lack of raw-garlic diet that keeps my immune system ticking this time of year). What with my 3:00-in-the-morning creative schedule I'm lucky to catch a few hours of sun at all, -but then, there are other ways to feel the glow, right? Right.
Being creatures of habit, we all need reason for the season.
...because maybe that whole baby-mama knocked up by a "god"-stranger born in a manger thing just isn't enough. I went to Catholic school and I recall a certain uptight Mrs. Wetzel in the third grade sitting us down a week before christ-mess holiday to dispel rumors about Santa. She had overheard us chatting during rehearsal for the school play (I chose to be a rainbow that could only go through doors full on sideways, not much has changed) She wanted to not-so-sweetly "put to rest" and blasphemous notions we might have that would grant us no more than a one-way bus ticket to that most undesirable place further left of Death Valley than any 9-year-old should care to go,- if we knew what was good for us. (If you think this is bad, you should see what she showed us before Easter. "Good" Friday should be renamed "grim and bloody gruesome Friday"). I needed to hear no more; then and there, I was sold on Santa, and like anybody subject to prohibition, this know-it-all lecture inspired my most romantic ideas about Santa. Behind door number 1: A virgin (yeah right) in eternal service to her son, listening to voices, with no dreams of her own completely satisfied with an offspring that once having left her nest disappeared for 10 years without even so much as a letter to his poor mum- Oy vey. pass the birth control. Whereas, behind door number 2 there was Holly-hopped-up St. Nick, and while he can't offer me eternal salvation,.. a ukelele wouldn't hurt me reach that very close-to-ecstatic meditative state, which is the nearest I'll ever expect to come to heaven. Besides, wasn't Jesus just saying we should all have lunch together, make an efffot to be kind, and that heaven and hell are possible right-here-right-now as a result of our actions? Let's concentrate on the former, because heaven is a place on earth, it's now, and it's up to us. There is no doubt we make the world what it is, see what we what want to see, and angels walk among us.
He's isn't perfect, but Santa not only has a generous heart~ he acts upon it, & that's a role-model enough, if you ask me
NOW IT'S TIME FOR US TO ACT
Speaking of Heaven-on-earth and selfless Santa-types, the most kind and generous persons in all of Edinburgh are in trouble and need our help. Douglas Robertson and Jane-Anne the Mr. and Mrs. Claus of 42 Royal Park terrace are being told by the jobs-worths of the city council that they are no longer allowed to hold house concerts in their own house despite the fact that concerts are 1. acoustic, 2.  over by 11pm & 3. don't bother residents (in fact, the lady upstairs loves them, and many neighbors attend shows regularly). Let's get together and stick a LUMP OF COAL in their stuck-up stocking by sending off as many emails to them as we can. EMAILS GO TO andrew.burns@edinburgh.gov.uk  "subject" ALLOW HOUSE CONCERTS @ 42, with an emphasis on the fact that it is first and foremost a house, and there is absolutely no profit going on, only donations for the musicians (who really need it, because venues don't/can't pay musicians fairly). Please help us tell these drones what the cultural significance of these concerts in your life, how the concerts are special because they are NOT in a formal venue,  how your existence would change if they were to stop. ** THANK YOU** in advance for supporting live music, magic and culture- the little things that make life worth living.  I'll put in a word with the big man,.. and I don't mean Yah-weh.

Faceboobs, Real Boobs, Real Friends & the Success of "Others" 

Here's the spiel:  I have a decent sized handful of dear friends who aren't on facebook, which inspires me in essence (and I love them)- but they consequently haven't a clue what's on tonight. They must know by now how much I love them, because we're still freinds despite having to clue them in,... ad nauseum.  Let's be clear here, they're not living in a tree without internet scavenging for food in the forest without electircity and indoor plumbing, they just  aren't on the faceboob and fail to get invited to things often asking me seperately what the post is and if I could text/write them emails and keep them in the know.  What's more annoying is that I'm  the one that actually feels guilty about being an unorigional drone because I'm on it.   Is it my imagination that they feel pleased with themselves about this?...Especially when asked the question "Are you facebook?" To which they get to reply "nah" with that cat-that-swallowed-the-unbelieveably-delicious-canary" look, or if and when they get to be the first to tell you a juicy little tid-bit in real-time. "Ooooohh" friend  X says.." and d'you know what the best part is?!  I'm telling you this in PEAR-SON,  oh NO- you didn't hear this shite from FACEbook!,.. you heard it from ME ...PEaAR-SONALLY!!"   (X is from Glasgow if you hadn't guessed)  Yes X,  agreed.  It is cool to drink from the well occasionally,  but frankly,- I'm grateful just to be watered at all. I'll take what I can get. And, too be fair to myself, I hear most things that aren't status updates;  e.g. The voices in my head, songs, my sons voice telling me that I'm NOT getting any ice cream (I've been bad, you see), the GREAT intangible wanderings of a mind that can never be fully related on paper of any kind, not to mention the basic stuff like my grocery list etc. (whew, at least I'm not one of those).
In the end, no matter what choice we make- we all just wanna be liked.
Sometimes we might consider taking a big step back for a spell and try to feel what it's like to just be.

I'm not cool like my friend, I am a full-fledged faceboob cause take it or leave it I personally just can't knock it.  ..But it is like a garden,  you have to weed and there are conversly worthwhile blooms worth a gaze- that much is clear. I feel astonishingly somewhat dependant on it; I've lived in three countries in five years, and before that I lived in five states permentantly in 25 years. I've made some tracks, and I think without the internet most people would simply believe the rumors.  (which, by the way are true *wink*).  While I too resisted joining this cyber-slavery for significant chunk of time, I've learned to use it so that it's only mildly annoying and incredibly useful for me. After all, I can post pictures of my kid and advertise for a show all in one go  say wha?! (the ol' 'two birds with one stone' operations get me every time) I also really do feel the genuine love of people who want to be kept up to date with us, and I genuinely LOVE that I can see them raise their families and succeed at their passions. YIPPIE for Love!!  YAY for the fact that's it's free!  Oh yeah,.. btw- When did everything become free,... like, for instance- music?  (I used to save up for two weeks to buy an album...and now -argh! but that's another rant isn't it?)  In a nutshell Facebook has made it possible for me to share my thoughts and feelings with a group beyond my immediate surroundings and hear from them in return. Wow.  Way to go technology, if only we were evolving at the same speed. 

So yes, please do notice I said it is "mildly" annoying. To the point: I ran into the worlds sweetest gal at a super-rad party recently (in Morningside ~Dahling) who was hashing out that she felt torn about re-joining the "social network" because she said while she was feeling left out, uninvited etc-- that facebook made her depressed.  Gosh, depressed I thought, about what?  This gal really has it all.. she's a doll with youth, a darling fella in her life, a camper van, really super-duper loving friends...etc. "it's just," she sighs.." everyone is doing such amazing things with their life,.. and i'm just, well,.. I'm just me."  Oh dear.  Stupid faceboobs...listen up chicka!! You are everything you need to be.  You are beautiful, you are an inspiration to me and I just met you. SO on behalf of her, and myself and all the others out there that don't want to un-join or even ignore good friends posts, there are a few things that will make it hard for me to "like" you or even worse,  will make me hide you or unsubscribe from you on faceboob.

 
WHAT NOT TO DO IN MY VIEW
 
 1. Get all angry and political even 50% of the time. Sometimes,.. ok. I'm curious? Has something happened to you personally? Because I reckon you are you not coping with unchannaled rage.  Believe me, I'm the first to tell you America has a few legislation-ally enhanced problems,.. why do you think I crossed the ocean and haven't returned?  Please be nice and try hard to refrain from making judgements about things you don't have personal experience with like welfare, guns, drugs, medicare, immigration... for all you know someones favorite uncle was shot in the head. So maybe just keep it inspirational..?  Yes!!  example: "I went to a protest today,..It was rad!... and I farted MEATLESS lentils,.. whoo!! rock!!!"

2.  a. Post pictures of girls with big boobs and their mouths agape every day, ALL the time. Once in a while everyone needs a good tit- but come ON.  I have a substantial rack, and yes they are awesome.  I have even used them for the purpose intended for them (making me even more sick of them than the average gal).  Food for thought, eh?  Like,.. er,.. really dude,.. they are food. Really beautiful food. consider that many small breasted women see your posts, what would you feel if giant cocks were out here all the time.  Would it aid your self esteem in this image crazed world we live in? 
b.  reward women for being only women e.g. beautiful, mothers, nurturers, boobs/piece of tail, cooks.  If a women is a professional in her field but gets exponentially far more attention for pictures of her with kids than posts about her professional success, it can send a clear message that her main value to society is that of a mother, and not much else. It isn't bad to love women as mothers and beautiful ladies but consider also supporting "like" ing the whole person, not just the signature female part.  Encourage brains, heart and beauty alike, which of course goes for everyone, men, women and those blessed to play with both color toys.

3. Ignore another human being as only the internet allows. When someone writes you a letter/email that requires response...respond to it.  You have time.  The worst thing you can do is make idiotic posts about your mundane-ness letting the person know who wrote you 'I'd rather collect 2 likes for getting out of my IKEA bed this morning than let you know I got your message. Furthermore, I don't care that you took the time out to think of me and actually connect with me"  It's a smelly symptom of a society that is self obssessed and simultaneously lonelier than ever. Sad... but not because it has to be.  ps. boycott IKEA they are chopping down old growth forests in Russia.

4. Be fake.  No, be real as morning breath.  Oh yeah babes,  It's exciting AND interesting to be vulnerable once in a while. Without throwing a pity-party, let people know a broader perspective of your life.  No one believes that everything in your universe is perfect/ guru-esque figured-out, and that you are always in glowing halo of Greta Garbo worthy light (unless it really is,.. in which case, Jesus- don't rub it in-  it's insensitive to us humans down here!) SO,.. for my cute friend at the party, and for everyone out there that feel "depressed" that they are just them,  be.. just you once in a while.  Not you squared on top of the empire state, not you looking like a rockstar meeting with your agent on a beach... tell me something I don't already know. I've heard it said "It's nice to be cool, but it's cooler to be nice."  Be both, or our imaginations will work overtime filling in the gaps, especially if you were kind of a jerk back in the day.  You know what they say about dudes with big cars,.. well the same could be said about Facebook posts intended to lead everyone to believe your life is flawless.  No one is likely very jealous, but they might be naive and depressed- or like me, increasingly cynical.  Either way, I'm not sure it was the outcome you imagined.  Consider sharing things that aren't "You"-centric all the time, even if no one likes it.  It humanizes you, and that's a good thing.

5. Be Boring. No wait, please log out and Get A Life, THEN share it- maybe once day,  With, (now that I'm dreaming) a squirt of humor, a teaspoon of old fashioned community spirit, and a pinch of humble-pie.  We are all (by nature) self promoting creatures of habit- offline, online, at the cafe/bar, at work, on the stage, to our friends, to our foes, to our who knows-who. It's a survival mechanism, and it's not all together unfortunate, it just is. Folks like to blame this self-evident douche-bagerry on modern times but I can assure you,.. it's not a new party were at, it's just a new venue.  Straight-up- If your friends online or off don't inspire you, get new ones!  Don't wait!! Unsubscribe TODAY from people who make you feel icky.  I've even unfriended a few, and you know- I feel lighter, happier and more enthusiastic about seeing what everyone is up to when I log in.  Maybe in the long run  these folks took a wee look at their questionable interactions with the cyber-silly and made a modification for the better.  Maybe.  If it gets noticed and someone is bewildered by your choice,  tell them the truth, invite an old fashioned conversation over an old fashioned beverage.  Progress made.
 
Here'e hoping~ for as hippie-indoctrinated as it may sound, we are indeed each other- there is no real "other".  -It's science, yep. -it's magic, sure.  -It's friggen faceboob even.  When we support and share the successes of others, we are celebrating and encouraging the positive energy in ourselves.  We then in turn can ride the this tubular wave and be supported by it with less effort than it takes to swim this vast ocean alone.  The social network is a great example of how all things are connected and not as seperate as we may feel they are in our dark and dangerous illusions and fears.  It is what we make it- so let's make it something that doesn't suck.

Here's an remarkable example of community spirit and actual literal web I witnessed at the Big tent Festival in Fife last weekend.  Folks weaved examples of the cellular structure found in trees and then wrapped this beautiful evergreen in their collective artistic effort.  Unbelievable doesn't even begin to describe what it felt like to stumble upon this with a hot-toddy in hand and the boy Harlen by my side. .......Inspiring does though.

CONFESSION: I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I hide what I "like",.. because I "like" so much and I have self-judged this to be 'too much!' and therefore embarrassing and uncool. So now that you know, ...will you think less of me, or do you "like" me too?  (cheeky, huh?) XXX Cera

 www.facebook.com/Cera.Impala.Music 

The Love Book 

                             
The LOVE Book

  
 
 
Love.  Who knows what it means anymore?  It's a word that gets used to sell dishwasing detergent as much as it is a word that defines your life, your lifestyle and your definition of yourself.  The Love book came about in a dark month of the year when Berlin ceases to smile in an especially unfriendly sort of way.  I had just played what I would call a "burn-out gig". The moon was hidden, and so were everyone's manners.  I had brought my best friend, my man, and my babe along with me only to find out there was no PA,  and I was just supposed to stand in a corner and play for tips to the rudest most rubbish arseholes in Prenzlauerberg,.. which is why I now have the saying "I don't go to Prenzlauerberg unless I get paid".  It's fair to say in retrospect I  perhaps overreacted (who me?)  and did have some fans in the crowd, as well as an apologetic waitress who was awful nice... but I had the overall feeling of soul-crushing exhaustion. Years of work for this? To have them smack their gums while Dirk plays insanely brilliant lines that slide in and out of this dimension?  No shit, It sucks to be a musician sometimes. FREE BEER will never make up for the fact that you are often tricked into situations by venues, grossly underpaid and made to feel that if you don't lick their arses you are some kind of diva.  Maybe I get it worse because I AM a lady banjo-diva of sorts. (no, old man, I DON'T know how to play Dixie- and I don't care to learn songs from the confederacy any more than you want to wear a swastika, ok?)  I am not a jukebox, I'm an artist.  Oh yeah, I'm an artist- I'd better act like one and start cranking out that lemonade, eh?

That night I went home, took off my brown boots, had a soothing lavender candle-lit bath and had myself a nice long think.  Berlin is this huge city and apart from New York the biggest I've ever lived in.  In most ways it knocks me out... I can't help but draw the *insects to humans* parallel when watching that centipede of a train slip by on the horizon,... it all seems so regurgitated.  On top of that we live in the digital age,  no one writing with a pen anymore, not really.  Everything seems to be stuck in a fancy-pants microsoft-apple cloud... nothing tangible. In it's simplest form- I love the intangible made tangible whenever and however possible.  I love, I love to love, I love to write songs that are about love because it's so clear that's what the world is aching for from the inside of every marrow & every seeping, sweaty pore.  If I could just collect five things of LOVE from every individual I ever met at a show, I would at the end of my days really have something worth something, no matter what. And you know what?  It's also a great way to engage people in their own thoughts.  Everytime I write a song, I am examining life as I know it-  and my duty as a muse is to bring that out in people by hook or by crook... but there is more than one way to tickle that tired old teddy- and I'm gonna use every trick in the book.
 
Love
What do you love
Specifically
unscientifically
Eternally
Oddly
Plainly
Gratefully
What? What? What?
Tell Cera one thing you love for each of your five wits and please- for once take up space, take up time!
ps.  Everyone loves cheese, beer and sex- if you love these things please be as specific as possible and sign this book with your super un-super power+animus.
for instance: "Pontificating Panda"
 
 
 

Tinsel, trees, & trash-bins a Ho-Ho-Holiday romp 

    Well the season is upon us, on top of us, dining at our table nearly uninvited and yes-- most folks would do anything to slip out from under the gooses axe right about now. Time as it would seem is running out! The economy is in ruin, Rick Perry is a powerful rich guy and The Mayan calendar begins in mere weeks to tick-tock tick-tock! Not to mention no one has a clue how to act around their own mother, sister, old friend or dreaded ex.  Let's be fair though, there is polio vaccine, indoor plumbing and if you are reading this, chances are you ate something today and were provided shelter with wi-fi to boot. 
    ahh but stress is as stress does. We must enthusiastically wash it, dry it, and comb into a managable and presentable shape, for now, for mom. (and don't mention the tattoo!) In truth, since I live on the other side of the planet , I have much less to worry about than I used to. It's pretty nice really,  I have happily avoided the notion of social obligation and in my adult life I have taken up the practice of celebrating Solstice instead.  It's not just for the sake of convienience though, ...it's my truth.  This Truth bam-bam-banged on the door incessantly for a number of years before I answered it. For me, the "knock-knock" "who's there?" was the "er,..hello, it's me the Law of the land". Not our land, or any land that man can claim , name and spray with Monsanto's Round-up ready- but the true wild land, and the nothing-but-noble voice of it's residents; trees, plants, birds and rare beasts. Much like Santa- the real magic of these spaces resides within us, without us and responds to us positvely when we are good.
     If you need any evidence that the world is a cooky misguided place, look no further than the dumpster bins lining every street in every state in suburbia shortly after the big bang of new years. Who can walk by these swollen overfilled crates of memories with half dead young fir trees that never had a chance- and NOT heave a perplexed sigh? What a way to celebrate the birth of the christ-child, but by killing a tree-child... what a way indeed.  so Bah- humbug to that.  There I said it.  The "rudolf ralph" (as I like to call it) or the christmas binge, and tinsel purge is a very real and tragic metaphor for the way modern life has gone.  Our need to bring nature to us, and our lack of ability to respectfully go into it with wonder, light  and love is alarming at best, and a failure to make good on our promise to maintain the earth's creature's at worst.  
      When I was 17 I first had the pleasure of listening to Dar Williams, and later saw her live at my college campus. Enchanted by her non-pretentiousness and sweet simplicity, storytelling and wit,  i went to get my CD signed.  For a brief moment, I saw a piece of my future self in her,  and and remember thinking, 'now there's a gal after my own heart!'.  She gave me the strength to be more me than I was willing to let others see.  She gave me hope that strength doesn't always dress to kill, and sometimes has a flower in it's hair. At the time I was embarking upon a life in the big apple, New York, abandoning my normal west-coast thrift store attire for a "chic" pleather jacket, tall black boots and facial expression to match. I'm not sure that I ever pulled it off.  Now that I'm in my 30's I wear what I like, and I like what I wear. Of course I'll still try anything once- be it instrument, color, food, look, sitting nook or pair of sunglasses... magic is in the learning.
 


* May all your days be merry and full of Magic *
 
 
 

Two Ears and One Mouth 

     It was Ghandi who said, "You have two ears and one mouth", which I interpret to mean that we ought to listen twice as much as we talk.  When it comes to musicians, I think we might square this and multiply it by infinity.  The best music makers I know don't just noodle along in a jam, they figure out the bass-line first,  they know the foundation before climbing to the attic, don't play over vocals, know their time to shine, enjoy finding new music,  encourage and appreciate every level of discovery, and above all- they **listen.** listen.**listen.**  This requires most humble genius, patience, and a deep and unfettered understanding of our various musical roles.  
 MY RECENT GOOD LUCK
    I had a concert at the Schokoladen scheduled for yesterday (Wednesday) but as the fates would have it- they are having noise compliant issues and the ordnugs amt is breathing down their neck...they gave me the choice to opt out of performing (or go on at 9:00) and I chose not to play....which  was the most fortunate choice I could have made. In place of performing myself  I attended a konzert at the GlassHaus here in Berlin.   What use the performer made of time and space, the loop station, the sparse Tom-Wait's-eqsue piano accompaniment, not to mention the handsome black bow-tie under spotlight was truly stunning. There are rare artists out there who have the ability to transform energy, and inspire peace by relieving us the constant burden of hearing our own incessant woes. They give us something much higher.  They are ambassadors for a better and more perfect world we tirelessly strive towards.  All musicians to some degree or another are chasing the tail of this most elusive dragon,  and last night I was transported to a place of pure inspiration.   Thank you for this, and thank you *universe* that we have ears to hear at all.
.  

Why blogging is like singing in the shower 

Blogging is like singing in the shower;  best without clothes on, can be a refreshing experience and should be done as if no one is listening.  I find my self lately wondering if people care to read it, and why? (perhaps I wouldn't)  The inside scoop is that this blog was not my idea, it began because of a suggestion from a fantastic college professor of mine, Sean Williams. Her encouraging theory being that it is indeed interesting for folks to get a glimpse into the artists process. Well Mz. Williams- I'm not so sure my blog will clarify anything and honestly, I didn't want to do it- which has stopped me in my tracks--....yup.  It might be just the thing I need to do for what ever as-yet unknown reason (as is so often the case). But jeeez- I've always figured it's better to let ones workings be a mystery- right? To challenge myself I've drummed up a few notions as to why  maybe I was wrong.... and here they are: 1) it's fun,..and fun is good (or at least so says Dr. Seuss).  If we only write to perform, and not for the bigger funner no so serious self- we lose what is essential about why we write in the first place.  We have to write for no reason, or there never will be a reason.  2) It's therapy,  for both parties the writeer and the reader. Why pay a psychologist when you can ask yourself every week,..how do I feel? In theory if we share candidly what we think and feel with others (and really listen to them in return) we might just end up in the end with a more colorful world view with a juicier more nuanced palat to boot ,..and be all the better for it.  3) it's a flexible multi-media platform that allows pictures (which I take almost every day), and video- god help me (it's  new hobby), and whoo-hoo** if I'm feeling saucy I can just leave a poem or a piece of scanned artwork. I say this is waaaay better than the old methods of show and tell....
Speaking of which-After this crazy weekend, a major bike accident (I will resist from showing you the pictures I took of this) and Dirk having been attacked in the park by some dumb hooligans  leaving his fiddle shattered... you'd think I'd be feeling shaken up and defeated.  ahh but no.  I've never felt more (OUCH!)+(OH**no!)  Alive! Yes, alive is what we are except when were not...and I feel woken up in a big way.  Things couldn't be better.  We have it all,  everything we need- and there's nothing like an incident as such to bring out the best in everyone. Thank you to all of our beautiful friends who have supported us with not just words, but actions and true love.  We are going to get Dirk the fiddle he really deserves and I can't wait to hear it.... can you?

Take a listen to Dirk playin' his heart out on "Orange Blossom Special"- the bonus track we'll send you when you download our new Album "Higher Place"
http://joe-czarnecki.com/dirks-violin/
Thank you JOE for being such a true friend. Only good can come of this*
 

Time and Space 

I often contemplate the concepts of the great and tortured Virginia Woolf. This week, her specific observation about the necessity of having "A room of ones own" to achieve professional success has grabbed me.  hmmm. (insert exasperated sigh here) Yep,  that chick never had kids. I'm embarrassed  to admit I spent many a college seminar really wondering publicly why so few women become engineers, ,..and now it's hit me like a cartoon piano.   Careers that require a lot of alone time, paper work, and cocktail after parties are near impossible if you've got a wee wonderful monster underfoot.  For those without kids,.. take heed---bringing a toddler with you anywhere is like traveling with an untethered goat.

You've heard it all before but YES,.. Moms across the board, and nursing mothers in particular know the challenge of finding a bit of personal space and time to ones own.  (It's been ages since I clicked a door shut and was able to just breath my own air!) Sometimes *agh* I feel like my life is just damage control. BUT- and here's the big and beautiful 'but' here; motherhood has made me appreciate the time I have SO much more.  I don't waste it as much and I'm less likely to obsess about things I might've before.  No use crying over spilt milk, I can always make more.

 I found myself telling a friend the other day that  nursing was like forced meditation, and as is often the case, once I said it- only then did I realize how true it is. It is the time when the mind must go quiet to make it work.  When I can do nothing else but let my body work, I find myself unknowing going over the chord progression to the "Tiger rag" or what have you-  ha* thank god dirk finally got a fiddle mute! He calls this the "marriage saver", ... I imagine because he's become aware that diminished scales are fun for a half an hour,...and then not for everyone!,....  I digress~ The point is,...you can travel the world without leaving your sometimes crowded room,  Thank you George Harrison! I argue the accepted notion that you need a silly old room to center yourself, though I admit it's a bit more challenging.  A recipe for success is a dash of proper patience and a good stir. It's true- at times you can achieve better practice not playing your instrument than playing it (and I really wouldn't  say this unless I had seen some results).   A room no doubt can be an aid, but either way (with one or with out), silence takes effort, discipline and the benefit of a healthy challenge. 

In my most silent moments the best songs come on. So for all the rest of us fertile-myrtle's Mama's out there,..don't worry! The room in your heart and head can always be expanded upon, renovated, redecorated -plus it's private, and there is plenty of it for ripe-and ready for your amazing mind tingling, earth shaking, creations.
oh boy I had better stop typing and,...

 

Blackberry Bushes come to Berlin 

 After four years, it happened! the stars aligned and for a brief moment in time (about 6 days) Cera and the Blackberry Bushes reunited.  It was sweet and wonderful wednesday/thursday we managed some time for a song share, a food share,...and just got to breath the same air....whew.  and what a breath of fresh air it was*, ...well ok- after that first shower off the road!
We performed a lovely Haus-party on friday the 8th at Max and Molly's tree-top paradise and Saturday hit the hip-scene that is the SOULCAT.  I can't wait till next time.....
As their rental car pulled away from Oderstrasse wet stones too proud to call themselves tears came to visit in the Blackberry Bushes absence.

Donate to Cera Impala

April 25th~ Hats off the Chris, Julian and the gang of talents who worked to publish the latest edition of Berlin's own english  literary journal.  I was honored to play the release party event and Ice-block exit aside,..(don't ask.) it was a party worth remembering.
.
Oh yes, and Cera got a haiku published!

Tequila Bar Haiku
Is it you or me
that is drunk talking as if
words really mattered?

Love letters, News & Tour updates for E-MAIL here: