So I just got on to Twitter, and I noticed that we should get our T-shirts for Fu now … which makes it look like to me that it’s all getting retired. And I realize that it’s true that all my trying, and being positive, and loving SongFu, and being better – even up to the point where
A @@#(U#$ FUCp9@#($#@$ HOUSEWIFE won round three… which I suppose is fairly forgettable if you like,
doesn’t really matter.
Nothing I can say will change anything. Actually I was going to post this nice blog below, when some bs started today that I was unhappy with.
I’ve known Uber-folk. I’ve listened to us debate the definition of uber-folk, misunderstand the application of the meaning of uberfolk, stick to our guns of offense over the concept of uberfolk … whatever. Well, I’ve been scoffed at by uber-folk. I’ve known people who know people who know uber folk. I have stories about uber folk. Charming stories. If I twisted a little bit to the left a couple times or wore a different sweater or dated another guy or chose another reverb or whatever the hell, perhaps I’d be uber enough to be turning everyone down due to an egregious schedule. It would be valid. I had a teenager once. If I still were in that sitch, I wouldn’t have had time for any fu … so I can imagine that it would be difficult to do any kind of quality participation in a contest with no compensation with a busy season.
Fame and a good working showbiz thing … It’s a combo of sweat and luck. But luck and timing are in there. And the thing about luck and timing is that you have to be there. And you have to be smart and you have to get into the right place.
I’m not being smart anymore. It’s throwing off my game. I’ve hung my hat on other pegs and I don’t have the control I used to over things. And it’s dumb. Lately, I can look at several decisions I’ve made squarely in the face and say “well, that’s just plain dumb!”
###below is my post. I declined to post it after being told it was “one-sentence-y.” I don’t know what that means, and now … I don’t care, so I’m posting it anyway.
well. i knew this day would come.
what would my two cents be?
it doesn’t matter. the thoughts don’t really matter. really it just is what it is.
i’m sad. i hate this. how do i make it stop?
I’ve started talking more about my life in a desperate effort to be known. It gets addictive. I feel I have an online family. I don’t know. In a way it’s been nice. Somewhat nicer than being “outside.” Nice for a person like me who has my particular issues and failings and challenges.
But I’ve come to understand that I really rely on everything to function in the associations that I’ve built up around me here. I’ve become all too attached to things. When pointed out that it’s like a game and it doesn’t really matter; I think that yes … it does. these are real people in real life thinking and feeling real things …
I’ve completely lost perspective and am deeply upset over the goings on of people I’ve never met. People I have to hold back the flow of over-sharing myself with because it’s inappropriate. And they don’t really see my retreat from the intensity of emotion they provoke. They don’t see the crash. They don’t see my over-involvement. They don’t SEE me “laughing out loud.”
They don’t see how they can make me weep and cuss and cry and some times need. But yes … weep and cry lotsandlots.
And I need to work. I’ve become accustomed to a certain amount of work over the years. A certain type of work. busydenneedstobebusy. pianodenneedstomakepianos. That’s the geeky part of me. I do piano geeky things.
I’m definitely a square peg. And as I read arguments by other people about other people defended in the words of people on subjects that have less-and-less to do with what I am all about over time (and those who know me, know this!) … I am sad because of the massive amounts of love I have. But I want to slip down into the warm hole I am originally from and go back to my softwetcrazysillyplace where I just write and the more people who come, the better it gets. The simple fact is that. Where if I do well in something score-wise … it’s a nice surprise. Where if I could have done something crazy like my friend says:
HE SAYS: “Oh, wow … SECOND PLACE??? … we’ve gotta get you the votes to beat that Lombardo guy!” (no one even knows ‘that Lombardo guy.’ He’s a young piano gigger from New York and I am a hermit-housewife who plays provocative and weird little impressionistic little songs and occasionally an overly folksy little twangly guitar with clinks in all the wrong places. and some drum).
[Giggle] “That’d be awesome!” I SAY THIS WHILE DRINKING MORE BELGIAN ALE … although I hesitate to say whether or not it’s really Belgian. Or to try to spell it. It starts with “M,” it’s what the menu says, and it’s my second favorite beer (the first being Traquair House Ale 😦 ). [swig]
Of course I don’t win. Of course. because I never win. I never have and I never will. I am okay with this. I’m not someone who leaps to public notice. I have one second place medal from a martial arts tournament I had no business making second place in, just like I had no business making third in this contest. Really, I know that. These are some of my most obscure songs ever. All of them are either partially, totally, or completely inspired by or are about fellow Fu contestants – that are then used for me to work out deeply personal stuff I’ve been letting simmer for years&years. Several Fu-ers and TMAer’s are members of what I joke about as “my 12.”
1. I am wildly inappropriate.
2. I find the ridiculous fascinating.
3. I am overjoyed at cute and wonderful things.
4. I am truly appalled that there is a last place in Fu, because I LOVE Spencer Sokol to death and I went to bandcamp today and downloaded his stuff. Later I may make a link (this does not mean he is on the 12, just because I put him in a list. This does also not mean that he is not on the 12. The first rule of the 12 is that we do not talk about the 12. Anyway, he has a lovely haircut, which reminds me of someone who is on the 12 … and a clever and attractive wife).
5. I sometimes say things that are WILDLY inappropriate. Perhaps I have mentioned this before.
6. I have wanted to leave TMA about 3 times for various reasons, but there are about 3 people on there that have nothing to do with the leaving-reasons who I stay for. I know they would be crushed if I left. I won’t disappoint them.
Maybe that’s why I can’t just … crash. It’s responsibility. Maybe that is what happens when you start to achieve celebrity of any kind. Even a tiny amount of fans. My friend Dave thinks of fans in that way – where the word is from “fanatic.” I think of them as people who like your stuff. Fans can be friends. Maybe that’s where I’m missing the boat.
But maybe it IS when you get just ONE little fan who enjoys your work, your company. Maybe you become a person with “fans” when you have a child, even. Maybe your kid is looking up at you and idol-izing you and loving you and you have to continue walking the earth. Or when you have people around you that are looking up to you and you mentor them in some way. Or your spouse or lover or brother or sister or best friend or whatever thinks you hang the moon … you have to stop being an asshole, or being an asshole to defend whatever-the-bucket from assholes … or stop the chain-of-assholishness, or leave the original perceived asshole behavior, or just let the fact that we live in an asshole culture … just let that all go.
… maybe we have to stop trying to determine which came first, the asshole or the … well … you know. Sorry to be so blunt about it. But you walk away from the stench after a while and go to the garden with your child, your wife, your lover, your collection of lovers (one can only dream!), your online harem, your children, your kittehs, your band, your collaborators, your butchers, your bakers, your candlestick makers, your whoevers …
I don’t know
I don’t make any sense. I just want to be okay. I just want things to stop being so
That was it. The blog entry. I felt better after writing it. But I didn’t post it. I posted little short blogs instead and felt impotent. I even talked to Spencer online about his general awesomeness.
Since then, I have pulled out of TMA, and I’m sorry to people for that. But I don’t think that I am strong enough to hang around when things are constantly changing and people are so inconsistent, mean to one another, and wish-wash about how things will be conducted and with who. And when people change their minds, they are grilled and filleted. That’s not right. This is art. We are artists. We don’t need to be so rough with one another. We need to be more gentle. More polite. It hurts me to see ugliness. So I will try to find yet another place where it’s less ugly. I haven’t found one yet. Maybe the whole world is awful.
Maybe that’s why I live in a cave.
But what’s the point of TMA if there’s no Song Fu? I’m a Song Fu contestant. And I felt something was coming over the horizon. Without Song Fu we’re just all going to wait for our assignments for the new project that’s been discussed. I have some April projects coming up and I should start booking more gigs locally. I haven’t been doing that because, frankly, I was excited about what was happening online with Song Fu.
I’m sorry that I was not only not famous enough for one set, but for ANYONE to take enough notice of. I tried. I really tried. I will take my silliness and go elsewhere. I just wanted some artistry and peace. It was helping me get on track after I had to quit for reasons I won’t get into. Personal reasons, and health reasons, and professional reasons, and finally family reasons that I would think other humans would really connect with.
I guess I am not very inspiring in that regard though.
Oh well. As they say in auditions everywhere in “the biz…”