Aimless Aim

Here we are, another Wednesday has arrived. It amazes me, when I wake up and it's Wednesday again. I always have to think up something to write about, it's a task that I have chosen to do, to keep my words flowing, to keep on with writing. On Tuesday nights I start thinking about what to write and midway through the night, something strikes me, a title or an idea. But not this Tuesday. No ideas at all. Perhaps it is due to this cold I am battling, this cold that has filled me up with all sorts of things that need to come out... Words do not apply, however. Perhaps it is a case of "Writer's Block" - the condition of being unable to think of what to write or how to proceed with writing...

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With so many things going on in the world, so much culture, food ideas, craft ideas, new songs, new battles, new babies; one would think it would be easy to come up with a neat interpretation of SOMEthing. Alas, there it is, a fuzzy, fogged up mind is all I can seem to muster up today, in between nose blows....  Strangely, last week, my husband was working closely with a friend who was pretty sick with a head cold, so we thought it would be a good idea to start taking Echinacea, in hopes to prevent any cold from trying to attack us. Well I guess that didn't work. 

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I am a suck when I am sick. Luckily this time around I have a helper who brings me herbal tea to sooth my sore throat. Usually when a cold strikes, there is always a glass by the sink filled with very salty water, for gargling. It helps out, for sleeping. I found a new thing though, thanks to my father in law. There are mints, basically filled with salt called "Emser Salz" -sorry the link is in German- but today they are my best friend! People say LOTS of fluids and vitamin C, so yeah, I am also doing that. What are YOUR favourite remedies?

To be honest, I WAS going to do a "Top Ten Best Albums of 2015" for this post. But honestly, as sad as it sounds, I don't think I bought ten albums in the last year. Luckily, while I was on tour across Canada, I was able to trade music with a few musical compadres with whom I shared the stage, but usually it's just songs that stand out over the course of the year, so perhaps a "Top Ten Favourite Songs of 2015" might be the better choice. But I CAN think of a couple favourite albums off the top of my head and here are THOSE links....

BROCK ZEMAN'S "Pulling Your Sword Out Of The Devil's Back"

XAVIER RUDD'S "Nanna"

Both albums are SO different from each other, but both contain some serious meaning. It takes a lot for music to get under my skin and make me FEEL, really FEEL, but these guys do it on these records, between vibe and lyrics, each record has "IT."  Don't get me wrong, I really LOVE all types of music, but after having heard some of the best sounds out there (in my opinion) it is hard to listen to most music these days, without taking it apart and analyzing every note and or lyric. Surely I am not the only professional musician who does this. It's a shame, in some cases.... It would be nice to go to a show and not try to figure it all out, to just be present in the moment....It can happen, for sure, but it has to be superb stuff, and these two records are SUPERB!!! 

Lindsay_in_a_state_of_excitement 

So there it is. I just pulled out a few thoughts from this hazy head of mine. The sun is shining, and the snow has melted. Surely a walk out in the fresh air will clear my head a little. Until next time, be well and thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy the musical tastes I shared with you, and the silly photos too!! Keep smiling and head up!!!! Hugs from afar, but not too close ;) 

Birth of a Song

There are over a billion scraps of paper, hiding in various corners, under couch cushions, in drawers and jeans pockets, showing in plain sight on dresser tops, change bowls and dash boards. These various little notes may contain a prophetic lyric that could change your world, or they could stay crumpled forever; these are the poetic scraps that we song-writers collect over the course of our life-times. "You never knows" just sitting there, folded waiting for the perfect melody.

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Who knows if some of these notes will ever be read again, or used. How many notebooks can one person have anyway? There are notebooks in every corner of my house, and scraps of paper with dreams and ideas in most of the bags I own,  perhaps they are there for when lyrics come no more. Maybe the act of writing, is in and of itself the only point. To use or not to use, might not be the question at all, but rather to write to write and to write some more.

In times of technology, like today, an Iphone is very handy, when the combination of pen, paper and or napkin can not be found. Again, my notes section is filled to the brim with lyrical sentiments, and the recording device has at least a hundred started musical ideas. Some days when I am on a train to the next performance I just listen to the songs, erasing ones that have no real effect on me. So many ideas deleted without another moment of thought. On the rare occasion that I find something that I deem true and worthy, I will sit with it and my guitar and work it out. Mostly though, I sit with my guitar and a brand new song is born. from scratch, with no help from torn up pieces of paper or half ideas kept hidden in a tiny machine.

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One of the most common of questions for a song-writer is "What comes first, the melody or the lyrics?" or "How do you write a song?" Most would agree that when a song comes, it usually comes in one long whoosh, from a magical place unknown. To be sure, there is no absolute way to compose a piece of music, there is no perfect equation that will work every time. Some songs come in moments, and some take hours, months even, to "complete." I put complete in quotes because every song can be changed up a bit. Perhaps one time you start out with the first verse, sometimes it feels better to start out with the Chorus. One band will add a catchy keyboard riff in the middle 8 (or bridge)  and another might replace the keys with mandolin, changing the sound entirely. Of course we song-writer's do have certain styles, but again nothing is 100%, so where I usually add a bridge (or middle 8) in a song, I do not always find the perfect spot for one. And that is okay.

Some years ago, I had the rarity of meeting Bono of the band "U2" in Ireland, at a hotel in the middle of nowhere, where he was attending a friends wedding. We talked about music, I had only just written and recorded my very first song and conveniently had it with me, to share. He was very kind and gave me a moment of his time and a few words of advice (which I had asked for.) One thing that always stuck with me was that the bridge of a song should stand out apart from the song and that it should actually be the best part of the song, even better than the chorus. So yeah, I really like to add one, but I always have his words in the back of my mind. If I can not find something extra-ordinary, I will not add one at all. 

Which brings me to my next point... Co-Writing a song can also be an amazing experience. I highly recommend getting out there and finding someone to write with. Two heads are better then one in most cases, so if the opportunity comes up to do this, I encourage you to do it! Brock Zeman and I wrote this song "Ships" together and it could be the most universally liked song that I have ever performed. It was a great writing session with Brock and way easier than I had ever thought it would be.

We lost a troubadour singer & song-writer on the weekend, Ron Hynes from Newfoundland, Canada. He was also called "Man of a Thousand Songs." And what a writer indeed. I remember playing on the same stage as Ron, at The Newfoundland Folk Festival, as part of a song-writers circle...I mean how lucky could a girl be, sharing a stage with a legend like himself. It was sad news for many people out there, who have all lived lives to the soundtrack of Ron's music. Most would know him for "Sonny's Dream." It had been months since I wrote a full song, some might say writer's block, but I am not so sure... In any case, I will leave you all with my new song, a tribute to Ron. "The Likes of You." Ron, I thank you.

Sadness, Still

Slow  internet, cranky keyboards, uploads not uploading, late buses, canceled planes, burnt toast. Smashed coffee mugs, empty milk jugs, broken chairs, wonky blinds, burnt out light bulbs. Dying plants in the window, sulphur water. Upstairs neighbours loud music, a never-ending search for keys. Losing something. Laundry piles, no clean clothes, a misplaced favourite scarf. Tardiness, broken finger nails, stubbed toe. Broken window, dead flowers. One single mosquito buzzing around your head late at night. Mouse droppings under your kitchen sink. Irritable, sleepy toddler. Expired coupon.  Worn tires. Deluded daydreams, misunderstanding telephone company representative, slow grocery lines. Dysfunctional ATM machine. Damaged coffee machine, empty coffee container. Busted window, leaky roof. Out-dated counter tops, obsolete Iphone. Ripped jacket, faded curtains.  Dirty floors, shattered mirror.

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A house no longer. No bed to sleep in. An empty fridge, no more electricity. No blankets, no shoes, no jacket, freezing cold, heavy heart, empty heart, abandoned. Homelessness. Wasted innocence. Child soldier. No more time, imminent explosion. Stolen dreams, sabotaged certainty. Soulless. Defecation filled water source, deaf ears, closed.  Slumped shoulders, sad eyes, hope no more. Hate-filled, harbouring anger, enraged hallucinations,  plummeting self. Fear mongers. Destroyed life, destruction. Rape. Mother Earth in ruins. Plastic-filled Oceans, dying whales. Abused animals, starvation. Unresponsive human, murdered daughters.

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One simple kiss. A bowl of fruit. Dancing hand in hand. Singing under the stars. Wind in your hair, open windows. Acceptance, unconditional Love. A quiet mind, courageous will. Tenacious soul.  Carrying love, giving love, reveling in love. Water fall, forest floor. The sound of a birds wing whooshing above you. A canoe's paddle striking through water. The crackle of a campfire. Smell of fresh bread baking, the taste of fresh bread and melted butter. Butterflies. Heart beating. Candlelight, wood stove, hot tea. Smiling eyes, laughter pains. A full belly. Marshmallow Bed. Spontaneity. Full flavour, perfectly seasoned. An old friend. A new friend. Unbreakable trust. Wholeheartedness. Faith, belief, fate, coincidence, Love. A seashore, a mandolin. A violin. Finger picking, gardening. Plants, tomatoes. Sunflowers, sun dog. The feeling of a warm embrace, the feeling of a warm summers breeze, that feeling of jumping into a cool river on a hot day. The scent of Autumn leaves. The sound of crickets, of tree frogs. Drum and bass. Authenticity, rawness, dirt-in-fingernails.Sweat. Full-filled desires. Comfort, ice cream. Colour, lakes, crescent moon. Birdsong. A hammock. Newborn toes. The scent of a rose bush. Positive vibrations. A mountain view. Sawdust. Cedar. Surround sound stereo. Serendipity.

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Love, 

Lindsay

Ta-Ta Thirties!!

Were you scared of turning over into the BIG FOUR OH? How did you feel leaving your thirties? Perhaps you are reading this and are nowhere near either age and probably even think that forty is old! Once upon a time, I thought forty was old. But now that I am days away from leaving my thirties forever, I realize I am still me and feel, inside, ageless. I see lines appearing on my face and other various parts of my body, lines that were never there before, and to me, they are just there and nothing more than expressions of life continuing to live.

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A decade of living in my thirties has taught me a a lot. From that first night, celebrated in Wakefield, Quebec at Kaffe 1870, (one of the sweetest little pubs in the world) I sang my heart out on that little stage and we made a right 'ole night of it. That night was the catapult into my song-writing adventures as a committed musician. I was moving away from Wakefield to live my life as the Singer I was meant to be. I'd dabbled in music for years before that but by the time I hit thirty, I was ready to take it on, full time. It was my first year as a professional in the industry...I would go on to write enough songs to record my very first full length record "Sound."   I had the whole world at my fingertips and I still do. WE still do. Anything is possible.

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Forty seemed so far away. How could I ever be ready for such an elephantine age? But somehow, I will ease into it with grace and I am ready. Life is like that, you don't even know it, but it is preparing us, every second for whatever comes our way. If only I knew then what I know now, so many moments of worry and fear would have been non-existent. It IS true, life after thirty changes, something shifts inside and room for wisdom is made. Some things we wish we could UN learn, but the steadfast beat of the ever-thumping time drum keeps on keeping on.

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The wheel just doesn't stop so there is no point in fighting it. One thing for sure that I have learned over the course of my life, is that it only gets better. At one point I feared getting older. Now I know that you don't get older, you get wiser! Sure, I mentioned the collection of lines, earlier, but really we just collect knowledge. I Love that. Certainly we don't always use our new-found wisdom, and would rather disregard some things (we are human and occasionally need to drink MORE water on a Sunday morning! When will we ever learn?)  I suppose the biggest lessons I learned from my thirties had to with Self. Self Love. Self acceptance. Self awareness. Self respect. Perhaps it sounds Self ISH, but we are only given one life and we have to live with ourselves for the rest of it. I wanted to impart some of the insights I found while living through this last decade, but these words from Herman Hesse sum it up quite nicely.

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So, there it is. The next time I write, I will be Forty years and counting. Today, right this second I am the youngest I will ever be and the oldest I have ever been.

Love.