Out of Time
(Copyright 2011 Girl Friday Music)

My heart is reeling mister.

So fragile like a blister.

No chance of callusing.

No such luck.

You’re rubbing up against my heart,

Feelings served a la carte.

Collateral damage of being love-struck

Just take what you feel like today,

It’s all at no charge.

Run up the tab,

Go on and run it up large.

The hot, dry wind burning up my skin

Is a cold hard reminder of the state I’m in.

My stitch in time couldn’t save the nine.

Sometimes the meter just runs…

Out of time…

Sand in the hour glass

Stuck to the table, hard and fast

No turning back, it just drips right down.

Feelings that run so deep,

The love is thick, the price is steep.

Heart on my sleeve, go on and pass it around.

I give it away every time.

You think I’d learned by now

To dial myself down. I just don’t know how.

The hot, dry wind burning up my skin

Is a cold hard reminder of the state I’m in.

My stitch in time couldn’t save the nine.

Sometimes the meter just runs…

Out of time…

Silence isn’t always golden.

It leaves us beholden

To the ghosts of everything we left unsaid.

I can’t help but wonder

Did you force your true feelings asunder?

Could it be you loved me, too?

Words unspoken, blessed and broken
Hover in the air like shiny tokens.
Never landing
Silently commanding me
to leave them there.

The hot, dry wind burning up my skin

Is a cold hard reminder of the state I’m in.

My stitch in time couldn’t save the nine.

Sometimes the meter just runs…

Out of time…

The Solitude of the Soul

I am a huge fan of whiling away countless hours in art museums.  It is akin to crossing through a portal of time, place, and mind not unlike the wardrobe door in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.  The only separation between your present hustle and bustle beat-the-clock reality and this anodyne utopia of quiet reflection is a set of glass doors and a small admission fee; a fairly inexpensive palliative measure in the grand scheme of mental treatments. J

I can’t really say which galleries captivate me most.  All have magical qualities that seem to bring back to life the bygone eras in which they were created.  It’s as if the photos, sculptures, artifacts, and paintings whisper to each viewer a little piece of knowledge the creator wished to immortalize like secrets, fantasies, convictions, fears, hopes, loves, and power.  I love antiquities and any art that represents the nature of the way humans relate to one another.  I am particularly drawn to the ironic and recurring theme of the dangerous power of women in Medieval art.  Though women were effectively suppressed, owned, and treated like property, the artists sent subliminal messages that by and large, it was known that we were NOT the weaker sex.  It would only take us centuries to get that message out. J 

One thing that is fairly consistent is that when I visit a museum or gallery, there is generally one piece that hits me like a ton of bricks; likely triggered by the mindset with which I walked in at that moment on that day.  Chemistry and timing is everything.  I’m reluctant to tell you that sometimes it moves me to tears.  I’m not insane; just uber sensitive to aesthetics.

In June, I was able to visit the Art Institute in Chicago, which is incomprehensibly phenomenal in its collections.  It resides in a building originally constructed for the International Parliament of Religions for the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893 (which in and of itself is another fascinating topic, but we shall save that for another day. J)  I stumbled upon this gorgeous, literally larger than life-sized sculpture that was so beautiful and so filled with meaning, it stopped me in my tracks.  At the end of this article, I have included more photos taken from 360 degrees around it.

It was created by an American sculptor named Lorado Taft and is entitled “The Solitude of the Soul.”  Four figures, men and women, are united only by touch.  Their faces are turned away from each other.   Its description reads, “However closely we may be thrown together by circumstance…we are unknown to each other.  We grope; we cling to each other, but our eyes are hollow.”  I was suddenly emotionally unhinged by this bittersweet reality.  We come into the world solo and exit it the same way; touching other lives along the journey; making our mark on the era in which we live, maybe longer in the case of people like Steve Jobs; our minds like unique worlds unto themselves;  and no matter how close to another’s life we get, there are things we will simply never know about them.  Even in the age of Twitter, Facebook, and over-communication ad nauseum (guilty as charged), there are feelings and unspoken realities in our minds that only we can perceive as evidenced by the fact that it is still possible to feel terribly alone in a crowded room.  (...also guilty as charged.)

It made me think of my favorite Jackson Browne song:  For a Dancer.

Just do the steps that you've been shown
By everyone you've ever known
Until the dance becomes your very own
No matter how close to yours
Another's steps have grown
In the end there is one dance you'll do alone

Dan Workman Studio Log

I was doing a little reminiscing today about my very first studio experience; recording basic tracks for Dorothy and Storm at Sugar Hill Studios with Dan Workman as my producer.  You never forget your first time at anything, and recording songs you have written from your heart with professional musicians in a professional studio is high atop the list of sublime experiences.  You're taking this intimate emotion you've neatly packaged into words and sounds, and in an exposing moment... not unlike standing buck naked in the middle of rush hour traffic...., you present it to strangers to re-create with their own hearts and skills.  After years and years of only being able to express your tunes with one guitar, one voice, and then being able to flesh out the sound with experts in their field is akin to working magic.  No exaggeration.  I cried when they played the very first note.

I found Dan Workman's write up of the experience, and it brought me great joy to re-read it.  I copied and pasted it here for you.  If you need a smile today, read on.  And thank you, "Tin Dan."  "Dorothy" is forever grateful for your kindness. :-)  For more on Dan's Blog, visit this link: http://studiolog.danworkman.com/2009_03_22_archive.html



Yesterday I cut basic tracks in SugarHill's Studio A for Girl Friday. The session was incredibly fun and worth an update. GF brought food which included an astonishingly good chocolate chip cookie (one of the giant pizza pan sized ones). It was amazing because it was cooked just right--about one minute past the raw cookie dough stage (danger!), but before the next chewy cook stage. She also brought each of us a chocolate easter bunny... along with Perrier, wine, bananas, veg tray, chips, picante' sauce,....

We did do more than eat. We got basics for two great songs, Storm, and Dorthy . Eric Jarvis played bass, Falcon Valdez was on the drums and percussion, and Josh Moore played piano and accordion. Steve Christensen engineered, and SugarHill Uber Intern Kevin assisted. This was the first time I worked with Josh, and I was suitably impressed. It was also the first time for me to work with this particular cutting crew. Eric, Steve and I have tons of hours logged in the studio together, and Falcon and Josh fit right in. As a matter of fact, the vibe on this session may have been one of the sweetest I have ever experienced, even though we were put to the test before the session even started. Andy Bradley's emergency mix session did not end until a few minutes after our slated start time. That was no problem at all for us as we all sat around the 'horn o' plenty' of snacks in the break room table. Way to go Girl Friday!

The highlight of the session was Falcon coming up with some great arrangement and percussion ideas. No. Wait a sec,... the highlight of the session was GF going into an unabashed girl-cry during the first take of the first song we tracked. She had warned me that it would happen, and U.I. Kevin was ready with the tissues. She was just so pumped to hear her song being realized by such generous and talented guys. I actually had some contact-cry emotions when I saw her break down. She was experiencing the joy that motivated us to work in the studio in the first place. It's always an honor to lead someone through the rite of passage of their first session working with magical players. The music was great, the vibe was beautiful, and the fellowship was wonderful. A really good day at the office. Now I get to play my parts!

Welcome to the Girl Friday Blog Spot!

Greetings from the blogoshpere!


In an effort to use time most efficiently, I thought it might be wise to open a blog page that I could export to all my sites!  Technology is my dear friend, and I shall attempt to create and nurture a very functional relationship between the two of us.  Ha!  Please stay tuned for more Girl Friday adventures!  Coming soon:  a tutorial on how to add my music widget to your smart phones so you can take me with you wherever you go!  It's as easy as pie!  See!  Technology IS our friend! :-)


XOXO
GF

Persephone

Hola!

I am attempting to see if I can import blogs from my notes section in Facebook and backdate them to archive in this new spot.  I think it's still going to give me the current date, soooooo....

I thought I'd rerun Perspehone (from Aug 9) anyway in the event anyone missed out on that one.  It gives insight into the muse that moved this song.  I hope you all are having a peaceful Labor Day Weekend.  I'm gearing up for my trip to San Diego.  I can't WAIT!!!! :-)

My new demo entitled Persephone was written as a nod to the mythological character. The lyrics correspond to the story of the innocent girl abducted by Hades, god of the underworld, from her mother, Demeter, goddess of the harvest and fertility.  With Persephone in the underworld, Demeter’s grief was so intense, the earth ceased to be fertile.  It was in a state of perpetual winter.

There are MANY versions of the myth; understandably so when we try to explain science as such, but in a nutshell, Zeus, the head honcho, became inundated with complaints that Demeter’s lamentations were wreaking havoc on their world, and could he PLEASE do something about it!!  Thus, Zeus struck up a deal with Hades to return Persephone to her mother.  The “group think” at the time was that if one ate anything while in the underworld, they would be condemned to live there for eternity.   So hearing that Persephone hadn’t had anything to eat or drink, Hades agreed to return her to the earth.  Here’s where the myth has multiple versions:  some say Hades tricked Persephone into eating a few Pomegranate seeds to keep her captive; others say that even though Persephone missed her mother dearly, she had become accustomed to being Queen of the Underworld, and before she left, she willingly ate the seeds to ensure she would be able to return for a few months each year.  In antiquity, the myth was used to explain the changing of seasons with winter months equaling the number of seeds ingested. 

Rather than following the traditional use of this myth for explaining the seasons, I wanted to explore the latter version of the myth to represent the human condition wherein perfectly rational and reasonable people, for reasons only known to them, occasionally choose darkness over light.  I wanted to tell the story of Persephone faced with the choice of returning to the underworld or staying in the light.  We’ve all experienced it to some degree; making less-than-understandable or risky choices in the face of stability, security, safety, and sometimes even love.  Everyone has either experienced first hand or through a close connection the willful choice of the “eating of pomegranate seeds.”  

I wondered if the myth of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds was a precursor to the story of Eve and the apple, and in my research, I found some really interesting facts.  The ancient Persians believed Eve was tempted with a pomegranate in the Garden of Eden, and in Persian mythology, Isfandiyar (say that three times…) eats a pomegranate and becomes invincible.  In Hebrew tradition, the pomegranate was said to have 613 seeds representing the 613 commandments of the Torah.  The Greeks knew the pomegranate as the fruit of the dead (because of the Persephone ordeal).  The Prophet Mohammed is said to have encouraged his followers to eat the fruit to purge envy and hatred.  In China the fruit symbolizes longevity, and in Babylonia, pomegranate was believed to be an agent of resurrection.   In Christian iconographic paintings, the Virgin Mary often holds Persephone’s pomegranate, symbolizing Mary’s authority over the death of her son. Of course nowadays, we like pomegranate because it is loaded with anti-oxidants and feel we are being healthy when we put it in our Cosmopolitans.  The way various cultures use symbolism is fascinating.  Don’t you think?

In keeping with my typical songwriting modus operandi, I try to offer the listener three levels of connection (as opposed to seven degrees of Kevin Bacon.   Sorry…I couldn’t resist that opportunity…).  The first is the most obvious:  The actual story of the song, in this case the mythological story of Persephone.  The second is the human level of connection and how the story is a metaphor for our own human behaviors.  The third level is always tucked quietly at the deepest part of the song; my personal connection which is always there, but never obvious.  Mystery is beautiful.  It makes us think.  Sometimes less is more…a lesson tabloid culture could stand to learn.

In my perfect world, I hear this song fleshed out with an orchestra and lovely Celtic instruments.  Produced by an expert (as opposed to my home demo here which is only one degree from answering machine tape quality…with a little reverb), I could SO hear this song playing during the rolling of credits in an introspective film or a fantasy movie…Are there any film makers out there wanting to make a film on Persephone?  Any artists wanting to paint a portrait?  Any authors wanting to write a screenplay?

I hope you enjoy my Persephone.  (Pronounced pur-sef-uh-nee for those of you who skipped out on literature class that day. ;-)

Always love...always....

GF