48 Hours to Bask

Yesterday was a good day. I started crying at 4:00. I cried those quiet sobs that you have when you don't want anyone else to hear you, and the tears rolled down my face as i went through my normal Friday afternoon routine.

And then I started laughing. And i couldn't stop. I giggled to myself under my breath, and when no one was watching I did a little dance.

And then I cried again. And I called J. and he said he would come and pick me up.

And we drove through rush hour traffic- and had one of those amazing conversations that you will remember for the rest of your life. I feel like I'm on some drug as one minute I'm up, then down, then happy, then sad. One second hyper, the next quiet and contemplative.

And we get to the Breedlove house. The same house I came to how many years ago? Now with new paint. And more equipment inside. And more memories. And Kim was at the door- just like the first time. Only then, I was auditioning for a spot in a cover band. I wasn't even sure I knew how to sing. I had never played popular music before in my life. (what was I doing there?)

And we come inside and along the wall in the rehearsal room is a huge stack of boxes. My boxes. My boxes that I've been waiting for for ....ever? There are so many boxes. And i go from laughing to quiet again.

And everyone is nice enough to let me have a moment to myself- and as I open the boxes my heart is pounding and the breath stops short in my throat. Inside those boxes are smaller boxes- I pull one out and open it- and there they are. "Kat Downs- Head of Revelations" hundreds of them looking up at me. My own face looking up at me, smiling (hello, they seemed to say. have you been waiting for us? it's been a long time coming)

Then everyone is there, and Kim has champagne- and the album is in the cd player and we are all beaming. Walter calls and "woo-hoo!"'s me from the cell phone- I'm crying, laughing, I don't even know what to do with myself. Everyone is planning, celebrating and it washes over me like warm water.

And we have to go- to see Ange and Bill because without them I'd still be hiding behind my keyboard at Starbucks. And we all laugh and celebrate together- and we listen to the album again and everything for once is right in the world and I am comfortable in my skin.

So I have 48 hours to bask- to lay out these disks until they cover the floor and just look at them and love them. To feel like I've accomplished something- a huge goal met. A huge hurdle crossed. A weight off my shoulders. A huge sigh released. Cause on monday, it's game on.

That's right- the disks are here kids- keep your eyes peeled.

Rain Day

The storm of the century, or so they said. What it really is, is 7 days of drizzle. Or is it 9, 10? This is the only time of year that SF has a so-called season. Rain. Lots and lots of rain. Rain that sucks the light out of every day. Rain that makes waking up at 7 feel like waking up at 5. Rain that pours, drizzles, mists – on and off, and on again so that you don’t know if you should even bother with an umbrella.

Forget it. I’ll just get wet.

(How am I expected to make up my mind when the sky can’t even make up it’s mind?)

Rain has a romance to it though. The pittering sound on the cement and windows that seems to be whispering secrets if you really stop to listen. The feel of heat on your wet feet after you finally get inside. The darkened sky in the middle of the day that makes you want to cuddle and giggle under a sheet with someone. Hide away all day until the sun comes out again. Or in this case, until what- May? I’d be alright with that…

Days like this make me want to write. Light about 200 candles and let my hair down and chain myself to the piano and make magic. I have felt loads and loads better since the music has started flowing again. The strange thing about this “business they call show” is that the business gets in the way of the art. You need to book shows. You need to make an album, have a website, a mailing list. You need to have a logo, a look. So you preoccupy yourself with these things. Then, when you book a show you realize- oh yes. I need to actually have some SONGS or something to perform. It’s a vicious circle.

Part of my problem in itself is that I write songs mainly because I can’t help it. But, it’s also a major part of relaxation therapy for me. (get my stir-crazy brain to settle down once and a while) I didn’t realize that until the making of the album and preoccupation of the business end pretty much pushed anything even remotely creative right out of my system. I’d never had a long-term writers block before- and part of me wondered if I’d lost my touch, and it would never come back again. Would I never ever have anything meaningful to write about? And then came the rain…and with it the inspiration to return to the notebook.

So I’d like to take this opportunity, while I am accepting my Dreary-Saturday award, to thank the rain for telling me stories. And making me remember all the different times we’ve shared together. The times we danced, the boys we’ve kissed, the trips we’ve taken, the tears we’ve shed.

Because that is what you are, are you not?

Tears?

Kiss in 2005

It’s just another day.

You go out, have some drinks, get home late and go to sleep. This is no different than any other random night out- so why does it feel different? What makes this night a fresh start?

Because a calendar says so?

Or is it because the whole world watches the clock for those last few seconds-

5….this time will be different…..4…..I won’t make so many mistakes……3……I will love myself more……..2……..please let things get better…….1……..Happy New Year!!

And if you are very lucky, you have someone who loves you to kiss and bring in the New Year on a good note.

The New Year always makes me very emotional. It’s not really that I feel that it’s special- any day can be a new year. Any time you go to sleep and wake up can be a fresh start. Any time you suddenly realize something and change your mind can be a fresh start.

I think what gets to me in particular is the camaraderie. Everyone for one second is perfect. Guilt free, grief free, sin free. For one second everyone together wishes for better things. For one second everyone together wants the world to change for the better. It’s like the whole world breathing a gigantic sigh of relief before everything returns (unfortunately) to normal. And the weight- the weight is actually lifted off of your shoulders….

…if only for a moment.

I don’t believe in New Years Resolutions. Mainly because I never kept one in my life. I decided a long time ago that if I was going to make changes in my life that I would randomly pick a day that is otherwise meaningless and make that into my “change” day. Today is a celebration of a change day for me- one month ago I quit smoking. So, today I celebrate myself- and it has nothing to do with the New Year. (Yay me, I rock.) And my celebration will be locking myself in the studio and working on music all day, because it’s my favorite thing to do.