Just when I thought I was getting close to finishing decorating our room…the girl who saw my Russian Doll Desk at the River School fair emails me and says she wants to buy it. Ack! I just moved it into our room and I love the red candlesticks on there. I don’t know why I am complaining, I have been trying to sell that desk for what feels like decades. Everytime I looked at it, I loathed the fact that nobody would buy it. It has been in several shows, galleries, etc–nothing. And of course, just when I had found a place permanent place for it in our house, whooop, it sells! Isn’t that just how life is. When you finally accept that something is going to be in your life, and settle in to the idea, there is goes. Like this past week when we were visiting my family in SoCal, my mom introduced me to a guy who was selling one of his chihuahua puppies. The dog was only 10 weeks and had the most amazing temperament and he could fetch. Anyways, I was a little cautious about getting him, because I knew eric wasn’t dying to have a dog, and I had had a chi and at around 6 months, the sweet bubbly socialite Penelope turned into an angry little territorial, yappy dog. I think it is in their genes. Hard-wired. But just as I had accepted the fact that this was going to be a good thing..I spend $67.00 on a carrier, some food, etc. for the 10 hr. ride home. A half hour before picking up the dog, I call the owner who gives me the bad news. His family has grown too attached to the dog and they can’t let him go. Wow! Really?!? Could you have told me that before I bought all sorts of stuff to make the trek back to Reno with a puppy in tow? So, there again the theme, of letting go, and settling into an idea, and then, the rug is ripped out from underneath me.
Ironically, in the very same day that I sold the desk, all of the music equipment that has slowly crept into our room, actually became meaningful to me. Normally, Eric spends an hour or two once a week writing music in our bedroom. I appreciate that he gets that time, and, I don’t mind lying on the bed and reading while he is doing so. I love the fact that art is being created-but I was plagued with fear when it came to recording my own songs. Until now! Voila! Yesterday, Eric and I recorded our first song together. We will be putting it up on thesixtyone.com very soon with the other songs (sans lyrics) we have. Eric still needs to record the bridge. When he went to do it last night, there was a distinct humming noise in the background. “From what?” You might ask. Our 1940′s charmer house, doesn’t have electric ground. Aww shucks! So as soon as he records the guitar part–likely in someone’s house in the burbs–the song will be complete. I can’t believe it, after a year (1/2 of which consisted voice lessons), I almost done gave up on singing. I was so fearful–I mean like the kind of fearful that thinks, “a little wine would help.” I even considered taking up smoking pot, just to make a breakthrough. Then, finally we came up with a method that is not so scary. And now, I am loving it. It was too much pressure to be perfect and spot on with my pitch–I am not Beyonce, but I thought I had to be, to make music. We have a few other songs written that I was never happy enough with to record. I literally thought I sucked–so we have been like sitting ducks–our dream to play “live” together was slowing pulling away like the Midnight Train to Georgia. So how did we break through? Eric made it simple. Now I basically sing like three different words over and over again–record the track, and then record a separate track with the chorus, where I sing three different three words. Thank goodness for Eric’s patience. And the gin and tonic I downed. Maybe next time I won’t need it!?!? I am beginning to think that the desk and the music is somehow connected–’out with the old cob-webby stuff and in with the new.’ It is like I had to give up something, namely, my fear of failing at something, a white desk and a puppy, to actually create something new. What is something you really want to do, but are too afraid to chase after it, and to actually do it? Cheers–to no more fear and loathing in Reno.



