life as a tumbleweed

Booking Europe March 2012 & beyond! Want to be a part of it?

2012-01-20T22:17:00.001+01:00

Hi everyone! Happy New Year!! I hope this finds you all very well. ♥

I am writing to let you know I am booking tours for 2012 now! Unfortunately, I am only going to focus on Europe at this time (w/ the occasional UK trip because I can't live without my Brits!). Eventually, I may find my way back to the US, but for now, I am focusing only on Europe.
This brings me to: I am searching for house concerts, art centers, churches, cozy cafes & any alternative venues for shows in March & beyond.

We can discuss the details more via private messages, but to start, I am putting the feelers out. I am happy to help in anyway I can, including tell you all about house concerts if you haven't put one on before. They're so intimate and lovely, easy to organize (I will help you) and the very best way to hear my music - in a quiet, comfy, acoustic venue.
With that, I will go and anxiously await your replies.

Really looking forward to playing live again and cannot wait to see you!

Love, Chris
p.s Please msg me via my website http://www.ChristeneLeDoux.com
p.p.s I should note... to begin with, I am only booking 1-2 weekend tours a month. ♥

just like you taught me

2011-04-04T21:37:00.000+02:00

I'm a storyteller.

I got it from my dad, who got it from his mom, who got it from I don't know where.

Lately I can't stop thinking…
I want my father to tell me the story of his death.

Did you know you were dying? Was it painful? When it began, did you have time to think about me? Were you alone in the end?

I know this isn't getting me anywhere, but further into those days of despair that seem to pour into the night and onward to my dreams.
If I'm lucky, the dreams take a positive spin and for a night, trick me into thinking he is still on this earth.

Like the dream where I was on a scavenger hunt at some giant antique store and my dad was there to tell me where everything was. It was his stuff I was rummaging through (which he hated in real life) frantically like it was life or death if I found it. Also, someone was chasing me.
My dad was right behind me at every bend as I picked up object after object that as I write now are still so vivid in my mind - his old watches, travel mug collection (that I inherited) stacks of mail, old coins from everywhere, nameless doodads he had a reason for keeping.
In this dream, he was there right next to me, behind or alongside me, telling me to hang in there, that I would find what I was looking for. He looked exactly the same and even shuffled with his (toward the end) signature slight limp, wearing his ratty house slippers, with his big t-shirtless belly.
His voice was soothing but full of strength, leaving you with the feeling he could break out into a joke at anytime. It was him. It was really him.
At the end of this dream, he gave me a hug and told me not to worry, he will always be here to help me find what I'm looking for. Then I woke up.

Or like the recent tragedy-induced dream where I was on a cruise ship going through a Tsunami, while holding onto to the top of the turbulent ship and the other hand was holding my phone, calling my dad.
In this dream, I wanted to tell him the story of my sinking ship. He wouldn't believe how fast the ship was going or how gray the sky had become. He would want to hear how I was hanging on and how as soon as it came to a stop, I would tell him I'd hop off and would be home soon. This was a dream after all and in dreams you can do that. Hang on to cruise ships in rough waters and make phone calls.
Before I made it off the ship or told him any stories, I woke up.

Call him because he was the first person I always called. No matter where I was, what country I was in or what was going on - good or bad.

Like the time I called him from Austin, Texas after seeing it for the first time and telling him I belonged there. Or the time a few years after I called him from London to tell him I was lonely and didn't know if I belonged there.

I used to imagine if I were in a plane crash who would I call if I had the chance. The answer was always my dad.

Stories are what made me who I am.
Stories percolated in my head for years until one day I picked up a guitar and brought them to life.
Stories put me on the roads of America, in taverns & cafes, on the couches of strangers.
Stories propelled me into the life of a touring folk songwriter.
And one day, stories flew me to Europe where I met and fell in love and now live with my Austrian husband.
Stories gave me my daughter and my new life.
Stories taught me to be grateful.

The day my dad's story ended, I was celebrating at my baby shower. The one my sister decided last minute for me.
Eating Costco heavily frosted cake. Playing baby shower games like 'who will our baby look like, me or my husband' and 'how many baby items can you come up with that start with B.' Opening teeny tiny baby socks and onesies, little jeans & sweaters that almost seemed made for a doll.
All the while, creating new stories that I would someday tell. "Remember the day we had the baby shower and..."

Unknowingly, hours before, my father's story had come to end.

He was invited to my baby shower and because I am only in the country once a year for Christmas, I was disappointed when he said no.
My brother also said no but he was clear why - it's a chick thing.
My younger brother - well, it was being hosted in part by his wife (meaning his house) = he was cornered.

My dad, had a business trip. Nothing major but it had to be done and anyway, he loved traveling. The few years prior to his death, he had to slow way down so any chance to hop on a quick flight and he was ready. Besides, it was only for a night and my husband (who he loved) and I would be spending New Years Eve with him a few days later.
Instinct maybe, but I kissed him goodbye several times that night, which turned out to be the last time I saw him.
I hugged him harder than I ever had and I even ran out after his car for one last goodbye - making it four goodbyes in a span of a few minutes.
He said he was only going for one night and would see me in a few days, but my heart knew different.

In retrospect, the morning when I was getting ready for the baby shower (very pregnant and feeling very fat) storming around very grumpy & irritated, unable to settle, makes sense to me now.
Something was off and all the way up to driving the hour it took to get to my brother & sister in laws house where they were hosting it, was spent telling off other drivers, whining about being uncomfortable, feeling like I didn't want to go to a party even if it was for me.

My papa's story was already over at that point.

In some ways, I believe he was already with me. Back at my sister's where we were staying, while I stomped around trying to squeeze into the clothes I packed weeks before that were already growing too tight around the middle.
I decided to wear the black dress and shoes I packed out of sheer desperation because nothing else was fitting or comfortable. Wondering at the time why on earth I even packed it thinking I didn't need a black dress & dress shoes. I'm nearly six months pregnant and I'll be lucky if I get out of my pajamas.

The same dress that turned out to be exactly what I needed for his funeral a week later.

He was probably there, rolling his eyes telling me to hurry up and get to my party, quit worrying, calm down. He had a story to tell me that at the end of my baby shower would be revealed and he needed me to be strong, surrounded by family.

When my phone rings, the first thing that comes to mind is, let it ring
I am not a fan of talking on the phone. In fact, I don't even like to take it out of my bag and see who's calling. Most times, I either turn it off or let it ring and go to voice mail and more often than not, it takes me hours, sometimes days to check messages.

This day was no different.
No different except I was in the middle of my baby shower and had a mouth full of white Buttercream frosting, which this very pregnant lady was not about to spit out.

When I looked at the name, I didn't recognize it and when that happens, you can almost guarantee I won't be answering, but because the story was already being written (unbeknownst to me) I was compelled to answer.

After a short exchange of, "Are you related to xxxxxx xxxxxxx Ledoux?" even a foggy-brained pregnant chick could make out this wasn't good.

I ended up throwing the phone to my dad's wife and ran out of the room in a panic.

Circling everyone and saying something is wrong with dad, something happened, I was told off more than once to stop jumping to (hormonal) conclusions and wait until the phone conversation ended.
Looking over at my dad's wife to see a red face full of tears was all the conclusion I needed.

To this day, I'm still shocked out of everyone in the world the morgue could have called, it was me. The daughter with a phone number only used (via sim card) a month or so out of the year.
The daughter who rarely answers her phone, if ever.
The daughter, who was nearly six months pregnant and right, smack dab in the middle of her baby shower.

Why would you leave me with this story? How can you expect me to retell this? You were supposed to come that day and if you had, maybe one of us could have had the ambulance there in time to save you. Instead of your story ending on a cold, dirty airport floor while boarding a plane, you could have had us retell it, change the ending.
Maybe we could have saved you.
Maybe I could have saved you. Me and your unborn granddaughter.

If I could go back in time, I wouldn't answer that phone and at least that part of the story would be on someone else.

It wasn't meant to be because you intended for them to call me. You weren't finished telling stories.

In moments of peace, I convince myself you gave it to me as one last gift from father to daughter.
From storyteller to storyteller.
From mentor to student.
It's in those moments, I accept your ending.

With a strong heart, I attempt to find the right words to take such a sad day and make it into a story someone would want to hear because I know this is just what you would have wanted - another story.
Your last big story.

I am a storyteller.

I got it from you, who got it from Nanny who got it from who knows where and because I can't get you to tell the story I want to hear, I have to find my own words.

I will retell it each time it feels right. Like when your granddaughter asks where is her Grandpa. I will remember as much detail as I can. I'll put a spin on it when needed and change my voice for added drama when necessary. I won't miss anything. I'll make you proud.

I'm going to retell your story
the best I can dad.

Just like you taught me.

waking up all over again...

2010-03-19T22:04:00.001+01:00

For the first time since my dad suddenly passed away this December, I am beginning to wake up again, get a grasp and fully realize this amazing time, my pregnancy.

Although logically I know this is an important time for me, my baby and my family, since my dad died I just kind of shut down. In every possible way.

I stopped thinking about what I ate, I couldn't go to the bathroom properly anymore, I stopped answering the phone, returning emails.
I kept the blinds closed, everyday and my bed surrounded with pillows and comforts. It's where you could find me nearly at any given moment, the day we flew back to Europe after the funeral.

Today, after the first real spring day, the first real feeling of winter ending, I made it out to the park with my dog.
A simple and necessary task for most people but for me these past few months, an impossible feat.

Not only was it a beautiful day but I didn't feel dragged out. Despite the pressure in my pelvis, the cramps and the overall uncomfortable feeling of being 8 months pregnant, I had a good day. A really good day actually.

So I owe hundreds of friends that wrote beautiful, meaningful messages, replies.
I've gotta' sit down and playback my voice mails and one by one, call each person.
I have thank you cards and packages to mail, pictures to download, save and forward and overall, a really big life to get back to.

By no means I am over it. Healed or moving on. That will never happen.

I am learning to live with it.
It's the best I can do.

I know my papa wouldn't want me to wallow in my pity. Lately, I hear his voice telling me so. It pained him to watch me my entire life worry about him.
When he first began having heart problems, I was far away touring Europe and he made it a point, not to tell me. He didn't mean harm, he knew I would drop everything and fly home. When the news reached me, he was right. I dropped a long, planned out tour in Britain to be by his side. Although he insisted I didn't need to return, I don't regret it for a minute.

Our lives are short. Our time here is borrowed. No one can get around this.

There comes a day for everyone, eventually, when you realize this and all the worries of tomorrow disappear. The wrongs let go and the future, what is left of it, embraced.

For me, that time is now.

Although my heart, thinking and life is forever changed, I know in the end, I am a stronger, better and more loving person for it.
I will never again take advantage of the love that surrounds me.

Today, it's as simple as baby in my belly, my husband, my dog and this breathtakingly beautiful spring day in the alps.

The new year's eve message that never was

2010-01-24T23:04:00.002+01:00

I wrote a message to you on New Year's Eve but didn't send it. I'm going to include it now.

Dear friends, December 31, 2009

I have contemplated just deleting my web presence altogether. For a long time now actually.

I don't seem to have much to say these days and have completely changed direction in my life.

In the spirit of new years eve and new beginnings and instead of disappearing, I will share a short update. Perhaps it may shed some light on where I have been and what has been happening.

As you know, in 2008 I released the new record. Throughout that summer and onward, I suffered very bad health, more hospital stays and began yet another long, inward journey.
I came out of my illness strong despite it running me down in every possible way.

I was also happy to be holding a new "baby" in my hand. A new CD I was and am, very proud of.

Following the release of the new CD and tours that followed, a lot of changes took place in my music career. Including the walking away from what I thought were friends, both related to the music business and not.

Sadly, I learned a lot about people, real friends and the music business and overhauled my life entirely.
It wasn't an easy transition to make, but I knew it was coming and followed my instinct allowing it to fade.

I spent the following year recovering my health physically and trying to salvage spiritually, what the music business single handedly crushed.
I don't say that lightly.
For those of you that have followed me over the years and/or really know me outside of the business, you know there was nothing more joyous for me than finding my voice and chasing what at the time was my dream - being a musician.
I found it late in life but when I did, it changed how I lived. For a girl who spent the better part of her youth not choosing life, this is saying something for me.

Musically speaking, time and politics eventually killed the innocence, while the travel and stress of being a full-time touring songwriter killed my body and mind.
In the end, I was rundown in a way I wasn't sure there was a way out of.

Fortunately, fate took me in a direction I could never have imagined.
I met my wonderful husband and began a new life and completely new direction.

It was really scary at first and honestly, I fought it for the first couple of years. Both getting married and living in a foreign country took some getting used to.
I've now reached a place in my life that I understand, embrace and adore.
I am completely at peace and full of contentment with how my life has turned out.
I couldn't feel luckier and happier with the path I am on.

Since being sick and releasing the new CD, my husband and me have begun a new journey into parenthood.
A journey I dreamed about my entire life and one I knew that someday I would be ready for.
Dying and never becoming a mother was one of my worst fears. For realizing this dream, I am so grateful. Carrying a child and preparing for motherhood is one of the biggest gifts I have experienced yet. I am so grateful.

Sadly, while experiencing the wonders of pregnancy, my dear, sweet and amazing father has passed away.
It has only been a few days and why I am sharing this so soon, I am not sure.
Trying to heal, find a way to grieve maybe. I don't know. I just know that I felt an overwhelming need to share how different I feel. How much things have changed and how despite the closure of certain people in my life, I have moved on from any negative feelings I may have had about well, everyone and anything. It all seems so unimportant now.

Because of these life changing events, I feel completely removed from all the little things I used to think mattered.
It's true you let all those things go when bigger things in life come at you.

I am focusing on the big picture now. The only things that really matter to me which are my family and real friends.

Life is so short and so precious and I will never, ever again waste one minute of it focusing nor distributing any type of pain or negativity to those around me or in the universe as we know it.
I will do everything in my power to let it all go and everything I can to give my little family the chance we so deserve.

I will always love and appreciate my music and you, my fans that I have given so much hope, love and encouragement to me over the years.
For that I thank you from the bottom of my heart and will forever be grateful.

It's just that, I no longer feel any need to prove myself. To chase my own tail just to prove I can catch it. Or just for the show it puts on for those around me.

I've moved on for now and would like to live out of the spotlight, both online and in person.

I will likely still have a foot in the business and continue down new avenues to satisfy my soul.
However, the full out chase has been called off. Happily.
And this new age of everything public and online has finally taken it's toll on me, I am gracefully stepping back and hiding behind the curtain.

My biggest fan, my father, has moved on from this physical world.
I will never, ever be the same.
I dedicate my humble little career to you papa. Thank you for everything you have done for me, believed in. I miss you so much it's hard to breath and I will love you forever. I wasted so many years running around the world trying to prove myself, when all along you already saw who I was. For that, I feel really sad. I wasted so much precious time.
Now I see what I was running to and from and as life moves on, I realize it's too late to take it all back and come home. I will always regret that.
I hope I can counteract that by reminding others not to waste one, single minute of their lives.
If you think you are not living your life for yourself, look closely and fix it right away.
Tell your loved ones you love them - everyday. Love and forgive yourself no matter what. Don't let anyone get in the way of that - including you.

Dear friends, thank you for taking this journey with me and until and if we meet again, may you find peace, love, happiness and joy in both your family and friends and all that you do. Both in 2010 and beyond.

I am routing for us all.

Love, Chris

Hello stranger... :)

2009-10-11T13:21:00.000+02:00

So you've probably been wondering where I've been.
I'm still here. :)

Sorry I've been so out of touch with you guys. I know I used to be much better about journal'ing here and keeping in touch.

Since my illness last summer, I've kept a pretty low profile and as you probably know, not doing too much in the way of shows other than close my region in Europe.

I have been however going in new directions with my music and getting some great results. Music film/tv and I'm working on a lot of exciting musical projects here at home in Austria.

It feels amazing to have been off the full-time road and I must admit I don't see myself going back anytime soon.
It's a lifestyle better suited for people that don't mind being away from home for weeks or months on end. I used to be one of them but since getting married and beginning a new grounded life, my priorities have shifted drastically to family and taking care of myself.

I still love each and every one of you and am so appreciative of all you do for me. <3
Thank you so much.

Just so you know, I am not done with live performing. I just need this extended break to first and foremost take care of my health. Now that I am in the clear and feeling strong and healthy, I will continue to take a leave of absence (other than a few one-offs and a week here and there) until I feel the time is right to jump back in. Even then, it won't be the crazy months and months on end on the trains of Europe alone. I can say with heart I have seen enough and don't feel the need to chase it in that way anymore.

In the meantime, watch your favorite shows and listen at your local cinema's for my music. I'm very excited at the developments in that department and to be honest, the residuals from this will allow me to continue with less touring and more records.

I'm working on a few new record concepts which for now, I am keeping a secret. :)
I promise when the time is right, I will tell you more.

It's finally Autumn here in the alps and I must admit I am fully enjoying being home with my husband and our sweet rescue golden retriever, Buddy. We're about to renovate our place and soon thereafter it'll be time for our Annual Christmas trip to see my family. The highlight of our year - especially mine.

With that said, Fall and Christmas time here in Innsbruck is spectacular and I feel so lucky to be here every second to enjoy it.

So let the pumpkin-carving, pie-backing and leave-raking begin!

I am thinking of you and hope so much this finds you happy, healthy and full of love - wherever you are. Thanks for being in my life and believing in me.

Love,
Chris

Are you breathing?

2009-04-07T11:02:00.001+02:00

I admit it, I’m afraid to die.

I got to thinking today about the past couple of years. Where my life has gone.
How did I lose so many people I love recently? Both in death and in friendship?
When will I go? And when I do, will the ones I lost touch with care? Will they
even know?
More importantly, will I have lived honestly and fully? Will I have
done all of the things I set out to do, didn’t know I should try and love as hard
as humanly possible?

The answer was a resounding no and that is where it began.

With all of the media deaths lately and more important to me, my friends passing on, I’ve been quite the morbid one.

I can’t deny I have always been petrified of losing the ones I love. So much so that I routinely since a child checked to see their chests were rising and falling with air.
Yet with all the time I spent worrying about losing my friends and family, back when I was younger, I never really put a second thought to my own death.
It’s only something in the past couple of years I have not only really started to try and wrap my head around but fear. Not a good feeling.

I got to thinking what if someone in the music industry interviewed me about my recent hiatus from the music business. What if they wanted to know every detail down to every thought.
At the end of the day, or life as it will someday be, any interviewer will have long forgotten a little folk singer like me. He’ll hardly remember he asked such profound questions.

So here I go. I’ll interview myself.
But instead of questions I am going to start with answers.

I often tell people the story of being 28.
When I was 28 I didn’t really know.
What I mean is, I was still in the phase of my life where things just flowed from one thing to next. One year bled into the next. One heartbreak to another. One town to one city, to another country and so on.
I wasn’t really watching the clock. Time was moving slowly.
Of course I could have died at 28. But I didn’t. And more than anything, I just didn’t have a huge sense of my own mortality. I lived pretty free and allowed people, places and things to touch me as deep as they could and not give a second thought. I knew how to live. Mostly.

Then at 35, on my birthday, I woke up with not only the obvious fact I was 35 but a psychological, physiological sense of being 35. Like waking up with your eye mask when it’s light but for a minute, you think it’s still dark. When it comes off, it’s a major shock. That’s how I felt. Shocked into 35.

And I believed and still do, in the 7 year cell change.
They say every 7 years your cells change and along with your whole make up.
I wasn’t waiting for it or anything. In fact, I don’t know that I was aware of it then. I just know on that day, I leapt from 28 to 35. Really, in one day I felt 7 years older in every way.

It wasn’t long after that while touring in Greece I met my husband.

I knew when I left for that particular tour I was a changed woman. I knew something was coming and I saw everything in an entirely new light. I was waking up, again. For the first time? I can’t be sure. However I do remember clawing and scratching my way onto the Transatlantic flight. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to leap anymore. I started to get scared for the first time in my life.

To make a long story short, we met, we courted, we married. And here I am happily married and living in the alps of Austria.
Sounds like an ending doesn’t it?
And it is in some ways. But a beginning I couldn’t possibly imagine took a strong hold and has not let up since. Everyday it’s stronger and everyday I feel my skin is going to burst open.

I was married, friends started dying. I mean, really good friends. Not that any passing is ok but these were the ones I expected to sit in old age with on the porch.
Just like that, gone.
And then I realized I may have missed a few important stops on my life path. How could that be? Time was moving so slow. I had so much of it. I thought.

All of sudden my clock starts ticking. I mean, it just went off one night. Screaming, blaring, thumping, bashing me over the head with the sound of it.
Baby. Baby. Baby.

Then when I thought things were weird enough, I started to have some health issues. Major ones that required a lot of hospitalizations and with that, show cancellations. In turn it was like dominoes and pieces began tumbling.
I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t save me. I had to let things fall where they may.

It was like one day I am 28 and the next I am reaching a ’semi-middle age point, baby making time but I have no time, where are my friends, what did I miss, what should I do point.’
Crisis? You bet.
And how did I deal with it? I stepped away from the very thing that gave it to me. Music. It’s just what happened.
I can’t explain it any better nor excuse it anymore.

I’m coming back now. Slowly. On my on terms. But I’d be telling a big, fat lie if I said I am not sick of answering the questions about where have I been, when will I come back and why did I leave in the first place.

Life. Life just caught up with me and there was that one day that I just woke up.
I woke up and realized it was mine and mine alone and I had to accept where I was, what I was going through. Live it, deal with it and move on.

And I have.
It was a slippery one this time. Hard to keep in my hand. Not tangible but I think I understand now. I’ve got a hold now.
Truth be told, you couldn’t pay me any amount of money to go back to 28 or 35. Really. I worked too damn hard to get here, I’m not going back now.
It’s time to get to work on the next phase.
Before my time runs out.

Will you be my friend? ...Socializing today.

2009-04-03T01:24:00.002+02:00

With the digital age almost permanently (I said almost) replacing meeting real people in real time, it got me to thinking about my digital "peeps" out in the world ... wide web that is.

Back in the day, you met them face to face. You know, at a concert or party, maybe in school or a holiday. Participating in an extra curricular activity.
Nowadays, being online IS the extra curricular activity.

Where does that leave us?

To get with the program (quite literally) or step away from the computer?

I tread both to be honest. Some days I am all over the place, tweetin' this, facebookin' that, myspacin' him and her, bloggin' my every thought.
Other days? I try and delete the people I'm not sure why I added in the first place, erase the photo's I should NOT have posted drinking wine the night before. You know, things you wouldn't dream of sharing before the internet deemed it not only ok but almost necessary if you want to play fair on the web. Maybe the cool kids will want to be your friend. You show me mine, I'll show you... Uh.

Wine, internet. Got me to thinking...
Although this is the opposite of someone you don't know but instead a real person you know...er, knew and now with years passed it's been propelled into the world wide web, I want to include in this unfortunate situation an example of a bad night in the world of technology...

Scenario; Girl (ok, that's me) decides it's a good idea to drink more wine than she needs. Fair enough. She had a hard day and she had been laying off the booze for a good amount of time. She gets on Facebook. She sees her x-boyfriend had emailed her back. Yes, she found him on FB and sent that "Hello stranger" letter, oops email. Um. She's happily married now but she's still alive you know. So she stares at his picture and from the look of his suit, wonders what he's up to now. He looks successful. She gets nostalgic (even more than when she first emailed him) and starts to think of the old times. For a songwriter, this could get dangerous. And she does it. Yes, she does the very thing we all dread someday we might do, or cringe when we get the "Hello stranger" email ourselves. She begins to write. She tells him some of the songs on her records were for him. She gives titles. She talks about her new life and husband. She tells him he was great and she was stupid. She says it took a LONG time to get over him. Yes, she emphasizes that. Um. She says, "I let you go now sweet boy" as a footer. Yikes. She hits send.

Do you see where I am going with this?

Ok, I admit I don't. I started talking about friends we don't know and somehow veered into the world of x's pre-online to online... Um. Nevermind.

And with that minor distraction out of my system, I can get back to what I really want to say and that is... If I need to talk to a friend really, really late at night (at length) about really personal things, will these 'digital' friends be there? Only online I assume. If I needed to borrow money and couldn't pay my mortgage, would they help me? What if someone close to me passed away and I needed support at the funeral from a friend? What if they saw gross things I did or me at my worst, watched me make big mistakes and see how imperfect I really am? Would they still be my "friend forever?" Exactly.

So why is it that online friends seem to be all the rage? Am I missing the point?
I suppose I would be lying if I said I haven't made some 'real' friends that started online myself. It's just... just. Well. I dunno. Just seems so dirty somehow and so fake and sad. Everyone hopping around trying to leech what info they can, get inspired or bring others down, share ideas or steal them, make a buck, steal a buck. What gives?
Will this only get worse?

Of course there are very good people in the world. Of course we are all good at the core and online like everyone else just doin' our thang. But it can be so private while being so open. It's so easy while making things so much more difficult. Giving us work we didn't know we had.
It can make nice people mean. Mean people can appear nice. Ugh.

I took a hiatus from my music and although health issues were my main reason, I admit I was all too happy to get out of and off of the crazy online world of gimmie gimmie gimmie more...gimmie more. Britney is annoying but she nailed that on the head wouldn't you say?

When I just let the email box pile up and sit, deleted the hundreds of emails from my peers asking for help, didn't sign up for any new social networking sites and let the ones I had sit dormant, stopped putting press kits, CD's and whatever else in the mail... I felt a HUGE sigh of relief. I mean, the kind of relief you feel when you think you lost your rent money and it turns up. The kind of relief you feel when you think you didn't pay a parking ticket and you may have a warrant out for your arrest and head in the pokey at any given time. No, those weren't referencing me.

So I just got on with living and guess what? I met my husband and for the first time in years I had a real place to live, make love, cook, decorate, nest in.
I made really good friends with people I could actually see on a regular basis. Build a real face to face trust that only comes when you spend live in person time with people.
I got good at knitting but I blogged less. I started to dig through my old photo's and send them to the people I had promised to send them to for years.
I even picked up my guitar, without agenda and just played. Like the old days.

Going off line should be like the book 'The Sugar blues.' We should go off it once in awhile. We should experience it more than a few times in our lives. At the very least, widdle it down. For some, way down.
Really. It's that good. Better than... Yes and with less time online there is more time for that too. Ehem.

And now as I sign off my digital readers, I wonder who reading this is my friend in real life or friend online. Whichever you are, I really truly hope you are planning to get offline soon, get out of the house and hug a real person. Those virtual hugs take too much time anyway, leave you with guilt trips if you don't send one back and don't feel as good as the real thing.

If we happen to meet out there, I welcome a real, live in person hug anytime.

p.s No, my x didn't "friend" me.

2009-03-03T16:43:00.000+01:00

Hello everyone!

I hope this finds you well.

Since the release of my new CD, "Dust 'n branches ... songs from a wanderer" has been doing so well, I have decided to come out from hiding this winter and book a little Spring tour throughout my region, Europe.

I am an American songwriter currently based in the alps of Innsbruck, Austria.

Although I am located in Europe now, I hold strong ties all over the world, most noteably America - including Austin, Texas where I keep a place.

If you'd like to share a show, trade information and/or help me book a show in your country, please contact me here on FB or here: singingchris(at)yahoo(dot)com

I am also booking house concerts which are the absolute best way to get your own private show for your friends and family.

Thanks for reading!
I really look forward to hearing from you and possibly working together.

warmest,
Christene

http://www.ChristeneLeDoux.com

2009-01-30T12:53:00.000+01:00

More and more I both miss and cherish the far and few between sincere and honest connections I have been lucky enough to make in my thus far, short life.

As a friendly collector of everything including all things broken kind of person, I used to waste too much on people that could really care less. And if they did, it was for some reason other than exchanging love, good energy and encouragement. At least in the business of music, if someone 'be-friended' you, it usually mean they wanted something from you. And I don't mean love. As far as I can see via social networking and some of the emails I receive, this hasn't changed much.

It took me a long time to see this and when I did, even longer to both accept it and do something about it.

Since moving abroad, something happened to my sight and heart that gave me the strength to move on from feeling like I needed their approval, had to help anyone and everyone that asked, felt compelled to 'prove' myself to someone other than me. It's been a long haul and a bumpy one at that, so many dirt road bends.
For that I am grateful. I am learning.

Tonight as I think about the ones I love most - still here, lost ... I realize I am coming dangerously close to mid-life or whatever that means to me and well, I'm just tired of wasting time on anything and anyone who isn't on my side. Because faults an all, I am on their side. Someone and somethings gotta' give.

I've made a huge pile of mistakes. More than my share actually. Such big messes that while I was making them, I knew throwing everything under the bed wasn't exactly going to get me a star on the board. At the time, all I cared about was getting through whatever moment convinced me I couldn't. Somehow saying and doing whatever I needed to; escape, get closer to, run from, understand...
I wish I could say that means I understand that even.
I am still so far from getting it.

With that, I wish for the strength to recognize the takers from the givers, the part of me wanting to hoard without sharing. And when I do see all of this, act on it. Instead of the complacent acceptance that goes with procrastination, laziness, not wanting to bother changing.

Innsbruck, Austria concert w/ Christene TUES, Dec. 16!

2008-12-10T13:40:00.001+01:00

Hello!

Happy holidays! I hope this finds you happy, health and keeping warm!

A little reminder if you are in the Innsbruck, Austria area, my Tuesday, Dec. 16 concert at The Bierstindl Theatre is coming up!
I hope you can make it if you are nearby. If not, I would be so grateful if you passed this on to anyone you think might be interested and near me.
Danke, danke!

What: Concert at Bierstindl w/ USA songwriter Christene LeDoux, now residing in Innsbruck, Austria
When: Tuesday, 16 December 2008
Where: Kulturgasthaus Bierstindl
Address: klostergasse 6, 6020 innsbruck
Tickets at the door or call 0512 586786 or 0512 575757
What time: 19:00 doors open, show starts 19:30
Eintritt: 12€ or 10€ (students, seniors and children)

Christene's website: http://www.ChristeneLeDoux.com

Christene will have some of her most talented Tyrolean friends join her on this night and blend her American contemporary original songs with a unique, modern Tyrolean flare. The atmosphere will be a non-smoking, cozy, candle light ambiance with free home-made American-style chocolate-chip cookies for everyone.

The night will consist of both Christene's original compositions in English as well as a few surprises in German. Expect funny stories, both touching and lively music, banter with the audience and candlelight/sit-down ambiance.

Although from America, while touring through Greece with her Swedish band, Christene met her Tyrolean husband Helmut. In the Summer of 2006 at the end of her tour, she came to Innsbruck to be with Helmut, married in the Golden Roof and never left.

Short text in German:
Die Amerikanische Songwriterin Christene LeDoux hat in Texas und vielen anderen Staaten von America gelebt. Diese "award-winning" Musikerin reist rund um die Welt und teilt ihre berührende Stimme, ihre Lieder und ihre Geschichten ihrem Publikum mit. Dies wird Christene's erstes aber nicht letztes großartiges Konzert in Tirol werden. Christene bekommt gute Kritiken ihren vielen Fans und von vielen Radiostationen und der Presse auf ihren Reisen rund um die Welt.

The universe listens...

2008-11-10T00:57:00.000+01:00

My computer crashed, died...completely ate everything. *sigh*
So I write first of all to tell you, if you have written and have not gotten a reply, that is why.
If you have ordered the CD and did not receive it, that is why.
If I was supposed to send you a video or photo or whatever else may have been on my harddrive, those are gone too.
If you are wondering if this is true my answer is sadly, an astounding yes. *double sigh*

The good news is... I believe you get what you ask for.
I believe the universe brings it on like no other, even when you forgot you asked in the first place.

I am a positive light giver, for the most part pretty happy go lucky gal. I don't have too many complaints, although I probably should.
But the one thing I have always dreaded is the amount of online work, emails, graphics etc... etc... etc... I have.
Feeling trapped inside, behind the computer and utterly cut off from the rest of the living and breathing world behind a screen.
My to do lists were out of control. They started for the day and turned into lifetime achievement books...um, I mean to do lists.
My email has been insane for years and many had gone unanswered for even longer.
In fact, I was recently digging through the ridiculous pile and getting ready to turn a new leaf.

Alas... the world did it for me.

So I got what I wanted afterall.
I am starting fresh, with a cleaner slate than I would have liked...nonetheless, spick and span.

Again, if you happened to stop by here and check in and were one of the thousands I owe a message to, I apologize from the bottom of my heart.
I'd like to imagine my information, documents and files landed in that never-never land somewhere between those lost socks and one shoes that seem to have disappeared. Never to be seen again.

In the meantime, I leave you with this...

love,
Christene

time to fall...

2008-10-27T20:54:00.001+01:00

Returning from Austrian wine country back to Innsbruck, I was surprised and delighted to see the sun, feel the crispy air and smell the snow on it's way. Heaven to me.

It's been a strange and bumpy ride the past 5 months since the release of my newest record. Beautiful and disturbing. Usual life stuff.

I have lost people I love, both in death and in my life in general. Lost a youth I held on to for way too long. Not an easy past by far but one which allowed me to become who I am so I suppose it's all I knew. And I can't say I regret anything.

This stage in my life is a ride (the end of one?) for sure and I've taken many. It's the kind that you get on knowing for well you'll be sick before you get off though. My fault for sticking around so long I suppose. Did I really have a choice?

So many people I thought would never leave, always be in my life. Others I just can't imagine life without that are just so far away, I can't reach them no matter what. Once a year is just not enough.

My husband and me are ready for a new path. Especially me.

The road hit me early, long and hard and to be honest, it's a path I never had a chance to choose. As in most cases, it chose me.

My health the past couple of years has taught me, I really don't have as much control as I thought. If any.
In the end, life gives me as much as I can handle. As much as I can muddle through without doing too much damage that's unrecoverable. I hope anyway.

I'm just a little tired from it all. Finally. Finally after all of this time, ready to breath. Ready to start the next chapter. I know, corny. But really, until you hit those trails, you have know idea how hard the hike will be. I really thought I had seen and done it all. Boy, life sure makes a joke of you. The elements always win.

Anyway, I'm hanging up my touring hat for a bit. Sorting the part of my life I set aside all of this time. Most importantly my health. My family and friends, a future without staring at a very unglamorous hotel wall, living on pennies, being alone far too long, competing with strangers that don't know me at all but that are ready to claw my eyes out. *ah sigh* Feels good just writing it. Saying goodbye for awhile I mean.

This time of year always... no matter where I am brings me back to who I always dreamed I'd be, am and still aspire to find. And it's not about what I do, how much money I make or what anyone thinks of me. Something about the coolness wakes me up all over again. Thank god for dead leaves falling.

I'm still here, don't worry. Just let me rest awhile and I promise I will once again return. Return with new colors and energy, at the next step. Feeling it and living it so hard there will be no choice but to share it with you. For the moment, I am empty and have nothing more to say.

love, Chris

SMILE, I love you...

2008-09-18T04:38:00.001+02:00

Dave was like that.

Even in death, he's trying to make me smile.
When I traveled from Austin, Texas to California the morning of April 19, 2008, I had no idea that writing a blog that day going on about 12 somehow being my new lucky number, was not only a message from the universe I missed but in a weird way I can never explain, Dave's way of sending me light and trying to make me smile.

We met in 1987.
I answered an ad in the local newspaper for a free kitten.
He was a kitty rescuer.

I drove out to what seemed like the middle of nowhere, answering this ad from a complete stranger and proceeded to go inside his house to save my newly adopted kitty.

I remember him coming out in this crazy tye dye shirt, with this gigantic grin written ALL over his face and all I could think was... What. Did. I. Get. Myself. Into.

But then he gone and planted that cheeky grin grin right on and straight through me. And then and there and forever, he always had the ability to undo my dark and make it light.
He was gifted with people like that but I wonder if he knew.

After the day we met, we started on the path of a deep friendship I have yet to mimic with anyone I know. A friendship that stood a true test of time, even if it was only 20 years.

He used to bring me picked flowers from the side of the road on his walks over to see me, gather berries from his garden, write just to say I love you my friend and please SMILE today. Always in capital letters.
He was that kind of soul, that kind of person. The good kind that didn't get made up in someone's head but so real you wondered how he did it. You feared for his sensitivities he wore so selflessly for all to see. Even for people I know didn't deserve it but Dave never saw it that way.

So when I saw him in January of 2007, I had no idea it would be the last time because Dave although struggling most of his life to as we used to say, "to be like a normal person" (whatever that is) he always seemed to land on his feet just like those little kitties he used to save. I was sure he made it out of the woods this time and being that he found his lifelong path of being a ranger, I was sure he was safe from harm amongst the dreams he so deserved to realize.

So tonight, this morning at now nearly 4am, 2 hours since I found out about his passing, I am cursing and loving him for both making April 12 such a horrible day and April 19 the day of his burial a weird one I would come to write what now seems like an insignificant jumble of words about that very number 12.

You see, I didn't know he had passed April 12. And I didn't know on April 19 when I was flying back to the very town we were from and where he was being buried that day that I was writing some ridiculous blog from yet another airport and feeling eerily compelled to blog of the number 12.
A blog full of words that both make no sense yet somehow because I know Dave's calm and peaceful nature in life, he was telling me it was OK. Even in death, he wanted to send me a lucky day. SMILE.

Dave sent me so many beautiful messages over the years.
As friends and so called friends came and went into my life.
All the moves and Uhauls, traveling and lack of postcards and still, he
always tracked and chased me down at just the right time to say: SMILE, I love you!

So simple but if you knew Dave, you would know he really meant it.
I always knew he meant it no matter where in the world I was, how lonely I felt or how unloved I thought I would remain. He beamed right through my computer, through cards and calls and never stopped believing that we both deserved a life full of happiness and peace. And through it all, he emanated peace both to anyone who met him and the world around him. NO matter what and it seems now, even at the cost of his precious life. Dammit.

So to you my sweet-smiling, strawberry-picking, flower-giving friend, I will make you this one last promise of taking that horrible number 12, the day you took your life and making it into something good.
This, this is what you have always done for me and the world around you and so selflessly. Light from dark.

I will celebrate your life not only on this day but everyday. But in my heart when 12 rolls around, I will know you spoke to me even when your nine lives ran out.

I love you Dave. I miss you so much. I'll catch up with you eventually but until I do, SMILE, I love you!

TOUR update started June 24, 2008 to today. Including video + photo's...

2008-07-03T16:42:00.002+02:00

Spencer the chocolate lab is snoring loudly as I type:

I'm in Wales... the South of Wales in a beautiful cottage in the middle of nowhere. Absolute heaven. Thanks to Tom & his beautiful family for hosting me. <3
And thanks to "Daisy," my Sat Nav for getting me to this extremely remote farm in Wales:

p.s When you hear that beep, it's because I am speeding... Love how she keeps that in check. Annoying.

This is the gorgeous mostly from their farm dinner (and only home cooked dinner on round II of touring) waiting for me when I arrived:

Oh wait, let me show you the video of getting here... Um, a road that REALLY only fits one little car. I'm not sure how they decide who backs up and who doesn't but in my case, I looked so freaked out every car I came across backed up for me. heh:

Tom kindly offered to host me. He's a friend from my Innsbruck Expats group now back home in Wales and with his family while figuring out his next adventure. He's the real deal. Spent a year traveling the world by himself and along the way, met a girl in Spain which is how he had ended up in Austria... long story short.

So...
I don't even know where to start really.
Where did I leave off last time?
In Sheffield I think, on some days off? Early June?

So much has happened since then, I'll try to summarize it without leaving anything out.

During my days off in Sheffield (I guess that was around June 6-10 or something...?) I took a train up to Lancashire for an extremely fun BBC radio show called "Ladie's at lunch" where I not only sang of course but to my surprise (and only horror because I thought it was live radio) there was a live audience for this regular BBC talk show. Unfortunately I looked like I'd been run over by a truck:

I've seen better days:

Unexpected morning audience:

I sang a couple of songs but even more fun talked about a wide range of topics with the hosts and a couple of guests on the show:

We covered everything from health care in our own countries to health care abroad (which unfortunately I know far too much about) snoring & more... I even talked about my husbands snoring and considering he was listening from Austria, I'm not sure how well that went over. :-)
My dad also listened in but from America. Nice except for the part about me mentioning him marrying Cindy (his new wife) to get on her insurance. Not exactly what I meant (at all actually) as they are in love but just an example of the health care in America and the both of them having do it a little quicker than they had planned. He didn't get it:

I headed back via train to Sheffield and the following day or was it the day before? Geesh, I'm losing it. Had a really fun live interview and performance on BBC Radio Sheffield. My dad listened to that too and even heard his, "Angel you've come too soon" song played off the record for the first time:

Pete and Jane (and Pete's dad visiting from Florida Eric) were wonderful hosts and fun to be around. They made fun (lovingly) of my crazy raw food diet and were sweet in every way to both accomodate it and in general go too far out of their way to drive me to my radio show, the train station and most importantly, later that week host an excellent show at Pete's new venue The George. Sweet people all the way around.
I picked up a kettle at the start of my tour which came in handy that night so I could keep refilling my throat coat tea without bugging the bartendar. I got some loving grief for that too but it was all in good fun and you're not touring England unless you have yourself a cuppa or two.

The Bury show was also great and the co-bill with an excellent British songwriter named Steve Gifford. He reminded me a bit of James Taylor and overall was just so pleasant. Thanks for watching my salad while I ran around Steve! :-):

I ended round 1 of touring with the highlight of that tour - an incredible couple of days with friends just outside of Liverpool in Birkenhead. It was absolutely amazing to see and hear Jim Rae again and as treat this year, two other excellent songwriters he's currently collaborating with; Phil Chisnall & Joe Topper. Jimmy you are so bloody talented in every way and I love you. Come to Austria OK?!

This is us during the encore song. A last minute (that day) addition to the show:

And this is a snippet of me singing one of the first songs I ever wrote. A fan got me into singing it again, "Bus to the ocean.":

What an unbelievable night we all had - truly. A stellar way to end round 1 with very good friends and a reminder why I make music in the first place. Seriously.
Thanks to my beautiful friend Vicky and her gorgeous daughter Anabel for hosting me and if you try to give me your bed next time V, I won't let you! You're so sweet, thank you again:

I got back to Innsbruck for a much needed 5 days off but regrettably didn't get much of a break. Spent most of time shipping CD's out to pre-orders, family, agents etc... running off posters, had another call-in BBC radio interview. My poor husband took the remaining time which sadly wasn't much and said he was happy. It was hard being home for such a short amount of time. It almost made me miss him, my friends and home even more.
Euro 2008 was in full swing and the streets beautiful chaos. That was fun to see anyway and we did have a nice last evening together overlooking the city from a gorgeous panoramic bar. I don't eat dairy anymore but I decided to deal with the pain after and go for a gelato to top off the night. Oh yeah!

Glimpse of Euro 2008:

Round 2 of touring started off with the usual 3am rise, 4am dash to Munich for a 7am flight.
The first half from Munich to Heathrow was better than a couple of weeks ago when apparently the tower didn't "expect" our plane on the schedule. Craziness.

While sitting behind the counter waiting to pre-board for my puddle jumper to Newcastle I met a man. He started the conversation by asking, "Singing yer' way round' the world are ya'?" and we began to talk about the hardships of life on the road. He told me about his version of traveling from here to there and the difficulty of getting around since his hip replacement. He had a cane and while traveling through the airport. He was using an airport wheelchair which he was quick to point out was the way to travel through the madness.
I told him about my illness and hospital stays last year and the long break I was forced to take because of it. How I felt apprehensive to be back on the road but here I was... redefining and reshaping my life in music, as a tumbleweed.

We're really getting philosophical now when I asked him what kind of work he did that laid him on the sometimes hard & dirty road and do you know what he replied?

"I'm Darth Vader."

Seriously.
Dave Prowse, THE Darth Vader.
After he told me, I tried to listen close to his voice. I later found out his voice had been dubbed.
He's taking singing lessons now, working on some co-writing and a record, manages a few bands on the side.
Who would of thought Darth Vador would be in the music business.
.
His autograph sure came in handy later at the rental car company at the Newcastle Airport when I realized my credit card had been drained (not by me but the evil on the internet!) and we couldn't get the card to work to get my car! He said, "The force is with you!" and it was...thanks Darth!

And thank god for those words because for some crazy reason, my friends at the airport whom I am beginning to see every other week it seems, sorted things magically so I could get my hire. *whew* Thanks Dave and thanks Desmond & Brian. I can't wait to see you all again.

My first show was that night in Reeth.
I had a shorter set than usual but a good one. I decided to do tumbleweed which I choose carefully when I don't get a long set time (most of you know what I am talking about:-) My hosts John and his wife were adorable and hard-working with the show. Totally welcoming in their home and my god, what a beautiful little village Reeth is. It's in Cumbria and if you have never been in England, I suggest you get your butt there. Wow:

It was rainy and cold and after Reeth and I really just froze the whole time & HAD to get this handmade by a local hat to keep my poor little cold head warm:

My sweet hosts layered the bed with an electric blanket which was super helpful and cozy.

Although John Wright passed away recently, his band is continuing on with his 2008 booked shows. Pete from the band took over the lead and did a wonderful job. A gorgeous singer in his own right and the band were so talented it made my stomach hurt. The band each played no less than 6-7 instruments. I stopped counting.
I can't wait to get back to Reeth and out and about to see the guys again.
Here are a few photo's the day after before I headed out:

Doesn't the ivy look like a heart?

Tea house I thoroughly enjoyed:

That day I took a GORGEOUS drive through Cumbria along rivers and old villages, falling apart stone houses scattered throughout and pulled over to indulge in a bit of clotted cream fudge, watch the rolling hills and of course sheep for days - to meet and play for another great set of hosts Penny and Paul. What a totally gorgeous couple, with a great daughter, Rosie the dog and venue they have built up all these years:

I had a night to remember.
I made up a funny song on the post about Penny and Paul's sweet doggie Rosie but to my horror, sang about the dog and used their daughter's name Daisy instead! It was pretty funny though and Penny came on stage with me and got the audience howling. I wish I had that on video! Here's a photo from that moment anyway:

Penny and I stayed awake pretty late chatting it up below their house in their antique shop. I must say it was pretty cool sitting on the antique couch at the window of the shop in the middle of the night. Surrounded by my favorite things...old things.

It was pretty cold and rainy heading out when I left to drive to my friend Dave's house about 45 minutes away in Wigton but what a gorgeous drive anyhow. Cumbria is now on my list of must see every tour and for sure, come back and really spend time when not working. I stopped here to have some MORE tea and indulged in a big no-no, fudge...i.e "clotted cream":

When I got to Dave's we had planned to visit the Lake District but with the late arrival and the weather, we opted for take out instead. Something else I don't do anymore so it was a big treat to eat chinese!
And true to his nature David had a water bottle to keep my feet warm waiting in my bed. The kicker? It was wrapped up in a furry stuffed animal dog. He's onto me and my obsession (dog envy) while on the road:

I spent some time on Skype as well (internet is hard to come by on the road lately) and unfortunately, the business side of music along with the stress of touring, the cold maybe... threw my body into a fever.
It was on and off through the night and although I was with a sore throat in the am, I still had a great show that night in Wales.

I drove 6 hours down to Swansea which compared to the ridiculous amount of driving I used to do in the states is NOTHING but it wrecked me.
In and out of hired cars and planes, homes and hotels, stages etc... day after day, starts to wear you down in general.
I was pretty out of it when I arrived and although was dying to get through soundcheck and to my hotel to rest, really only had enough time to eat my salad beforehand and get in the shower.
My friend and promoter David drove me to the hotel allowing me to leave my car til after the show which was great.
And Dave... I don't know where to begin with this beautiful man except to say we have for sure met in another life - or were supposed to meet in this one. A true soul friend I am utterly in love with and will treasure. Love you D:

I had a great show and a few people turned out after reading the Maverick piece, word of mouth from other shows... yay:

In all the years I've toured around these parts, this is my first in Wales.
It really is different from England and without offending beautiful England which I love, the people just seem a bit easier.
When I drove in it was sunny and much warmer too - by as much as 10 degrees celcius actually. A huge difference. So that could have been part of the fresh and new feeling I got when I crossed the border. I'm not sure.
I just know I adore Wales and the Welsh and absolutely cannot wait to get back here.

Bulith Wells was another gorgeous, gorgeous village and the drive even more incredible:

I was awstruck. Despite the fact I was expecting to see a petrol station and I didn't and well, ran on fumes through the hills - I loved every second on the scenery.
The welsh are known for their sheep and they did not disappoint.
Everywhere.
On the streets, laying around as you turn the bend, roaming, hauling ass to cross, grazing just about everywhere. Truly a sight.

The view from my b&b:

Caravans are in their glory this time of year and Wales delivered in a huge way. Not so great for the speed of one way traffic but since I give myself so much time each day to travel, I didn't mind.
Passing the little snack trucks that seem to come every few minutes was nice, the rolling, rolling green pastures and flowers, farms and cottages, villages dotted along the way.
I listened to the new Emmy Lou all the way there, ate the fresh strawberries they sent me off with in Swansea and definitely hit my hobo stride.

My soundcheck with Ian, Tony and Alan was almost as much fun as the show!
The bursitis in my shoulder is really acting up lately & the fun started with Ian suggesting we hang me from a rope to stretch it. It turned into a Madonna'esc sound check from there and all I can say it was really the most fun I have had:

Despite not being huge numbers, it was a good-sized crowd and incredibly fun. A beautiful centre like a castle inside and nestled right next to the river:

We really had one of those nights.. me and my audience. The kind that make me want to cuddle and hug them all afterward. I loved every minute of that stage.
And as a bonus I made friends with Cath and Eileen at the b&b I was housed at and cannot wait to return as a tourist and really get to know Bulith Wells.

Speaking of my hobo stride...

I am in it 100% and although happy to be getting 2 weeks off coming up here, will be a bit sad that it's getting interupted.
It seemed to take longer to hit this time around & breaking it up is like doing to show sets - I hate that.

WIth that said, I have to admit the logistics of what I do are disheartening more often than not, exhausting and sometimes downright depressing. But I am happy to report all of the shows have been stellar and the souls I have been lucky enough to meet and call friends have made the other bits disappear slightly.
Those 90-120 minutes on stage take a lot to get to but at the moment I can say they are feeling mighty fine and the worth the hefty price. Mostly. Sometimes.
I say that today.

This feeling of road...show bliss comes and goes.
It's a never-ending thing with me I guess. The road, being home, the road, being home.

The other day I was in tatters over the business, with a fever and totally wiped out from the politics that don't go away in this soul-crushing business. Then the next, I am happily cruising along with just the right song on, the remainder of the show from the night before still in my body, the thought of the last hug I got from the new most likely life-long friend I just made, humming whatever song of mine that seems to be stuck in my head.

Today was a harrowing often hilarious drive down roads that I kid you not fit ONE car. No more than one. And barely that.
Roads that meant someone had to back down and hit reverse on the other end. Lucky for me it was clear I didn't know what I was doing and most backed up.
Don't believe me? See for yourself :-):

I am sitting in bed after spending time with the kindest Welsh family, eating food mostly grown here at the cottage, having great conversation and feeling more relaxed than I have felt since hitting this pavement again.

The show reviews have been great, lots of videos and photo's, live BBC interviews, invites to new venues. feedback from the new CD have been very positive and along with the usual newspaper online articles etc.. I got a great on tour write up in Maverick again.

I'll admit I'm not 100% convinced. Money is tight and logistics are sometimes paralyzing.
But I'm not going anywhere...
Exactly how it will even out only time can tell. But I can feel it beginning to smooth over the way it was always meant to be. Music AND a life. Wow, who could have imagined?

If you happen to talk to me on one of those days where my tires blew out or it was pissing rain and I was late for a radio interview, maybe lost on those crazy backroads somewhere, having a go with someone in the business, not getting enough sleep or food, had a night before of singing to hand-crossed punters who'd rather drink a pint and I'm a little cranky ... I hope you'll understand it's just a passing moment and I still believe... and am pretty much a happy camper, hobo, gypsy, wanderin', traveler, wife, friend, daughter and stranger. Remember, strangers are just friends you haven't met yet.

Sending you love from a cold footed American girl in Wales.
I need warmer socks!

love,
Chris

April 2008 w/ my niece in Caliornia...

2008-06-30T02:41:00.000+02:00

After finishing up my new record in Texas I flew back to California to see family. While my nieces and I were cleaning their house for a party my sister was holding - my heart broke in the most beautiful way when I heard my niece Maya blast my CD Little Lighthouse and sing along as she cleaned. THIS is why I do what do and I don't know what else to say. love, Chris

Learning to yodel & spoon (TAKEN MAY 24, 2008)

2008-06-29T18:13:00.000+02:00

Taken May 24, 2008 after returning from doing my new record in Austin, Texas and before my UK tour started in June... On some time off now (2 weeks - yay!) and wanted to share this with you... love, Chris p.s Yes, this means a yodeling, spooning song in German IS coming... stay tuned!

TOUR update written June 8, २००८

2008-06-17T01:25:00.000+02:00

Friday at 19:00, the new CD arrived at my doorstep. By 4:00(am) I was in the car heading for the Munich airport ready for my tour to begin.

It's been a whirlwind and I'm not sure where to start. I haven't had a minute to sit down and catch up with myself yet, let alone write any blogs.

So although today isn't a day off either, I do have some time before I head to the BBC for my next radio interview.

The first flight in to Heathrow Terminal 5 was interesting to say the least. Nowhere near the level of frustration of March 27 but wait until I tell you this....

As we sat in the runway (not pulled up to any station) the pilot announced he was sorry for the delay we'd be experiencing. He informed us the tower did not have us on the schedule. A morning flight MUC via LHR everyday of the year, at the same time and they didn't know we were coming??
After waiting nearly 45 minutes on board, it did throw me into a tail spin running for my puddle jumper to Newcastle.

I made it only to land on the other end and wait no less than 3 hours to get my rental car. Not only did their printer break which is necessary or renting but they ran out cars even though everyone in line had reserved one.

So that's how my tour started and getting in the car exhausted from no sleep the night before and getting lost wasn't exactly my idea of fun. My phone hadn't been topped off so I couldn't call my agent.
Fortunately I found a nice couple when I pulled over that let me call Helen and figure out where the heck I was. And it's pathetic to be honest... South Shields is not huge and I should know better. I was just so tired already.

Saturday was chaotic in my head. I couldn't make sense of anything and the shock of the world I used to live in right there in front of me, kind of freaked me out.

Living on the road is something I used to do. It started as a real honest pull to it and somewhere along the way turned into of course not only a job but a sort of duty to my fans as well as proof to my family.

It all sounds complicated and it is really so I can tell you after 1.5 years off the road and the cold, hard business of music, I was nowhere near prepared for the harsh reality of it.
People think what I do is glamorous and see it through romance red glasses. Sorry to shatter the illusion but if it's your job and you are a folk singer, the roses are in short supply and the money, that's another story.

I had a well expected mini breakdown and was on my way. Back to the business I mean.

My first show in Newcastle was a success and I even surprised myself by having a really, really good time.
My agent and publicist were both there (which admittedly I'd love to have on the road with me always...*sigh) and my friend Dave videotaped it. So hopefully along with some other video footage and photo's, I can get that posted here.

I headed down South a bit after and had another great show that topped Newcastle. The folks in Beverly were adorable and attentive and the show was my favorite of the tour so far. I really could have gone on for hours.
Although getting to radio beforehand in the pouring rain then straight to the promoters house was somewhat challenging, I made it and went close to straight on the stage in good spirits.

The downside is we discovered I had a flat as well as slow leaks in both tires as someone had smashed in the back rims from the inside. I guess that meant I was close to having 2 blow outs had it not been noticed and just changed.
There were no extra cars for hire nearby so the good guys at the Fix it tyre shop banged out my rims intent on getting me to Edinburgh, Scotland for my next show.

Edinburgh although a let down in attendance was also a good show and out the blue a girl I met at a show in Modesto, California in 2003 (my first CD Little Lighthouse CD release) was there! Small, small world I tell you.

Oh I failed to mention that after being lost most of the first few days I decided to invest in Sat. Nav... To those of you in the US, GPS. Oh yeeeah.
I could go on and on and on about how much easier this had made my life but instead I will just say I call her Daisy, I love her and never want to lose her.

The following show in Kircaldy, Scotland was made even better by my fantastic hosts Davey and Mary. Their spirits soared and the love they share for each other very contagious. I hope Helli and I are like them when we grow up.
We formed a very nice friendship and it was the first time on the tour I really felt comfortable and could relax a little. After the show, Davey talked me into a gorgeous smokey flavored single malt whiskey as a night cap. I don't drink on the road anymore but I could hear my husband voice in my head telling me to turn down a whiskey offered by a Scottsman would be mad...
I had my first ly in nestled in their gorgeous cozy house, indulged in some caffeinated with cream coffee the next morning and was on my way to where I am now, Sheffield.

Pete asked me last minute Friday if I wanted to play the Village Hall outside of town with Jez Lowe and the bad pennies. And since Kate Bramley (his violinist) will be joining me on some dates this summer, it couldn't have worked out any better.
What a lovely hall and the other Pete running it, was absolutely the sweetest man.
Jez and the band were much better this time around then when I saw them come through Innsbruck. Could have something to do with not even 10 people in attendance the first time I saw them compared to last nights packed hall.

So there is a lot of in between stuff but nothing is jumping out at me at the moment. Just a lot of driving from one place to the next, arriving just in time for sound checks the almost straight to the stage. It's been pretty hectic so far. I'm losing too much weight which coming from me sounds absurd I know. Living off the raw food I bought at the start of the tour but hardly having a stomach or time to eat it properly. Not good.

I definitely feel jolted and loopy being back out here but I have to say, knowing I have a home and a wonderful husband and good friends to go back home to, is keeping me centered.

It feels more like work than ever and I surely haven't hit my hobo stride the way I used to. I'm not sure or will but if I do, I am guessing it'll be a whole nother shebang since I get to fly in and out of Austria for rests in between. No more of this 6 months straight touring... just me and guitar and 100lb bag. I don't miss those days not for a second and if offered all sorts of money to get them back, I wouldn't even think about it. I don't envy a musician that loves it. Hats off to doing anything in life you love if you do but I can honestly say I have no desire to live on the road the way I used to. And having experienced it hard for far too long, I have had enough of my share and am content to pass the baton to whomever wants it.

Having a life other than music is something I never even wanted but now that I have it, I'm sorry to confess I prefer it over the life of a folk musician.

There's room for both in my life but at the moment, I am still thinking about the next hike, the next picnic, my husbands cooking and friends waiting in the alps.
Maybe I will catch up with myself out here and land. I'm not sure. Maybe not.
Either way, I'm enjoying the roundabouts, the lovely people, the little backroads, the satisfied feeling after a show well done. I expect I won't hit a stride so much as anticipate times passing.

Now that I've figured out how to be happy it's hard to drive in circles and know it's in another country altogether.

1000 copies of the new CD at my doorstep...barely!

2008-06-17T01:09:00.002+02:00

The first 1000 of, "Dust & branches...songs from a wanderer"

The delivery man literally was home and going to come the next day (when I'd be in the UK already!) & only came because my duplicator called him at home! Then he left them outside the building and was only caught by my husband coming home. Barely got him to help us get them inside the building. Getting them up to the top floor, that's another story. :)

on a hike...

2008-05-29T23:42:00.001+02:00

On a recent hike I organized for and with my Innsbruck expats/locals group, Thomas, the son of our good friend Gaby, broke his foot. For the third time this year. Our good friend Dr. Douggl checked him on scene and my husband Helli ran down the mountain to get the car, drove them down, then ran back up to join us. Wow.

On a hike days later with my husband, we passed two middle-aged women taking their donkeys out for a walk. I took a pretty terrible photo but I'll try to post it.

The following Friday on a hike with our friend Gaby, we watched a farmer nearly beat up a cyclist cutting across his fields. When I say beat, I am not exaggerating. The cyclist was minutes away from the trail but for fear of being beat, quickly turned around and went all the way back. Don't mess with Tyrolean farmers. I'm serious.

On a hike last weekend, we made friends with locals playing guitar and accordian at the beer house we hiked up to. We drank radlers, I sang my heart out, Helli used his finger to make a capo for me so I could play Whiskey Night and I learned to play spoons and yodel. The family that owned the house were so happy we got free hats and shirts and were invited to return with our friends and play the house instruments whenever we want. I have video which I'll try to post. We'll for sure be back.

All in all, hiking in the alps is more than just good shoes and sunscreen.
I'm looking forward to my breaks in between touring.
I should have my yodeling skills down by then.

Rest in peace Utah Phillips

2008-05-25T13:59:00.000+02:00

I still can't believe it.

I just sent him another batch of stuff from Austria when I heard he had fallen ill again.

He was is and will always be my hero. A true storyteller, songwriter, lover of life, adventurer, hobo, activist. I love you Utah. Goodbye my friend and see you someday.

Rest in peace.

love,
Chris

Dust & branches ... songs from a wanderer is almost here!

2008-05-20T23:03:00.003+02:00

It's almost here .. the new CD!
A little over a week left in duplication and it's in my hands ... yeesh!

If you would like to see me live, I'll be all over the place this Summer.

Starting with the UK, Scotland & Ireland ... moving on to Scandinavia, Australia (this may reschedule-we'll let you know) Eastern Europe and the USA...

Feel free to pass my information on to anyone you think might want to come out for a warm & cozy night of song & stories.

http://www.ChristeneLeDoux.com

The site is being updated constantly with new shows, music etc... and the link to buy the new CD will be up just as soon as it's released...!

Thanks for coming along for this ride. I'm so happy you are here and hope we meet up out there on the roads!

leibe Grüße,
Christene

all night just this once?

2008-05-08T22:33:00.002+02:00

Working on printing/office tasks here in Austria is a riot.

Ok, I'm lying.

It's annoying as ....

Well put it this way. There is no Kinko's where I live.

A gorgeous little city in the alps (that as we speak has fully blossomed into Spring - yay!) but nowhere near as cosmopolitan as our big bad Wien.
Which admittedly, I don't want anymore so that's the upside.

The downside?

The printer around the corner is A. Not open all night which does not lend itself well to my back to vampire hours while working on my CD graphics.
(Confession again; I'm glad things don't stay open all night here but I do miss this one little thing when I am working *smile*) and B. It's run by if you are lucky 2 half-way clueless college students (sorry guys, I do love you).

More often than not it's one guy with his cute little vintage t-shirt and dark jeans, converse and hair in his face.
And as sweet as he is and to look at (um, sorry honey) he's usually so overwhelmed it can take as long as 20 minutes just to be seen. Really.

And most times, especially at the busiest which with a place that closes at 6pm I believe means alway they (he) usually asks you to come back in an hour.
Well, if you're lucky.

But really?

2-3 hours and sometimes he has even asked me to come back another day altogether.

Yikes.

So as I have just spent the past 14 hours straight designing every last detail in my 12-page CD book, I am wondering how all this will pan out when I mosey on over to see the printer for a practice run before going into duplication.

Helli has the day off and although it's nice having him here during the day, I must say while trying to work it's a bit maddening. Love can be a great big time consuming distraction. Nuff said.

Anyway, it should be fun to to have him work with me tomorrow.
He can get a good laugh and see just what it is I am talking about.
He's been to Kinko's with me in the US - my favorite past time next to Office Depot. I know, I'm a little sick. I mean, an office store is like a toy store to me. Geesh.

Ok well I made a vow to slow down on the journals because I am spending more time on them than writing songs. That's not good.
And I don't even post half of them which is downright scary.

My head is spinning from layers and fades, bleeds and cutting and pasting. I think some ranting was called for.

There.
So getting office tasks done in Austria is no small deed.

The end of my big exciting news for today.

breathtaking...

2008-05-06T22:46:00.001+02:00

Christene LeDoux * Little Pumpkin Music News

2008-05-01T17:38:00.002+02:00

WELCOME to the.....

Christene LeDoux * Little Pumpkin Music Newsletter
May 2008 (!) NEWS for songwriter Christene LeDoux
Issue No. 89

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-- Message from Christene
-- Dust & branches...songs from a wanderer available in JUNE!
-- PLUS *bonus* "tumbleweed...live, unreleased & rarities" CD coming soon after...
-- Tour dates this Summer/Fall in England/Scotland & Australia!
-- Want to host a concert with me in your home? You host in any country, I come to you! Help organize or host a show in general anywhere in the world?
-- Quote for the month...

Hallo (as we say in Austria)!

You may be wondering if I am still alive... !
I am here! :-))
If you didn't already know, I want to share with you that last year health-wise, was probably the most challenging I have personally had. I am doing really well now - completely on the mend - and charging full (ok, a little slower than that to preserve my health!) speed ahead back to finish the new record and touring this Summer and Fall.

The hospital stays, time at home and struggle to make it out, changed a lot of things for me, mainly how I was living my life out there. For a long time, it was music only, at the expense of my mental and physical health, my family and more - so I am not surprised that at the end of that particular road, I had a good old fashioned break down.

It's just like the children's fairy tale humpty dumpty except I was lucky enough to get the pieces of me, back together. :-) I apologize for last Spring/Summer/Fall cancelations and thank you for understanding through it all.

Onward...
The new CD's are absolutely and miraculously coming this June 2008! You have been so patient and loving to me through the years and I want to say thank you for that. It means a lot to me to have such amazing friends, family & fans in this world. Please note CDbaby has been re-stocked with more Little Lighthouse CD's and the first 45 are autographed! Thank you for waiting so patiently.

I have just returned to Austria as of a few days, as we speak - preparing to put "Dust & branches...songs from a wanderer" into duplciation!
Recording in Austin with Mark & friends was challenging due to allergies but aside from that, amaaaazing! I am sooo happy with the outcome and cannot wait to share the CD and all the surprises that come with it!

Another CD, "Tumbleweed... live, unreleased & rarities" is also coming this summer (albeit a bit later as it's being shipped from the US) and was mastered by my good friend and Little Lighthouse producer BZ Lewis at his Studio 132 in San Francisco/Oakland. I just picked up the master while in America last week and will be putting that into duplication as well. Thank you so much to Vic & Reba Heyman for allowing this CD to happen!

Starting in June, I'll be all over England and Scotland as usual and later this year am excited to take my first of many tours to come of Australia.
If you would like to host a house concert, help organize a show or can house me while I am in Australia, England & Scotland and well anywhere in the world, please send me a private email. I will happily come to you and give you a private show we will both remember for years to come.

House concerts have been in my schedule for years and are the most intimate, comfortable and best way to see me perform. They have and will always be my favorite way to perform for you. We pick a date, invite some of your friends, family, co-workers etc.. some of my fans if space permits, either have a potluck or offer snacks (if you'd like) and wala! I love playing acoustically and do not need anything more than a warm place to sleep for the night and even if we can't manage that, I can find one! Feel free to hit reply and let me know your thoughts. I am happy to tell you more about house concerts, how easy they are to host and help you every step of the way.

You can view my current but ever-changing schedule: http://www.ChristeneLeDoux.com

I hope we cross paths soon & more than anything, I hope wherever you are, you are happy. I miss all of you and that crazy, long, tiring but calling to me road...

love,
Chris
p.s If you sponsored Dust & branches... way back when, please send me a private email with your name and the amount. This is important so I can include you in the thank you's! :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quote for the month...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not, rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common- this is my symphony..." {William Henry Channing's Symphony}

- William Henry Channing
You are receiving this message because at some point, you have asked to be on my mailing list via a live show in the US or Europe, online or asked me personally.

I promise your email is never shared with a soul...only me. :=) If you no longer wish to receive these emails, please reply to this message with "Unsubscribe" in the subject line or simply click on the following link: Unsubscribe

Click here to forward this email to a friend

If you have trouble viewing photo's or links, be sure to add littlepumpkinmusic(at)yahoo(dot)com. I know this is true of AOL accts. and could be for many others. Also, be sure to check your spam box and bulk folder. Often times a newsletter like mine could end up there. if you're still having trouble viewing or reading, please let me know.

Contact Christene:
singingchris(at)yahoo.com
http://www.ChristeneLeDoux.com

wandering homebody...

2008-05-01T03:01:00.000+02:00

It's 2:30am.

Nowhere near my 5:00am bedtime last night but dogonnit, nothing close to the wonderful early to bed, early to rise hours I kept while in the states. *sigh*

Believe it or not, my emergency sleeping pills were robbed in Austin, Texas by none other than the maid at the hotel I had to move to the last 3 nights there. *geesh*
I had a hunch that day to hide everything as I had 3 guitars and a ton of luggage at that point (from clearing storage) as well as my mac...so thank goodness for that.
Still. I sure could use those suckers now.

Anyway....

I have wanted to write so much for so long and have really had no time.
I still don't but since I can't sleep and I'm really not up for taking cold medicine to get it, here I am.

It's unbelievable how much I accomplished in the nearly 5 weeks I was away in America.

I had hight hopes and expectations and despite not being entirely done yet, I met them all. Exhausted but boy do I feel good about the progress.

Amazing how last year was such a stink for me. Hospital stays and canceled tours.
It's like I am making up for the past year in a few months. *yikes*

As of today, I officially located a duplication company I will use for the new CD.

This is big news for as I spent months and weeks agonizing and researching the best options.
Since I am living abroad, it's a bit complicated with shipping and customs and timing. I have none of that now. Time I mean.

So what a relief today when I met and formed an instant what I know will be lasting career relationship with a local duplicator.

Speaking of making up for things...
It dawned on me on the flight home, after coming out of some heavy family drama, that maybe when you live far from it all, your siblings somehow keep a sort of "family credit card account" on you.
Like when you return, since you've been gone, it's time to pay up.
But the kind of credit card you will never pay off and without the usual perks that come with it. Just a bottomless American family express card.

I never noticed this before this last trip but I must say, after a very uncomfortable confrontation with my always hard to get to older sister, I realized that I am the one that has changed and not her.
I could see it all so plainly even while it was happening (albeit after a brief but necessary losing it moment) but it wasn't until the homecoming flight home that I could put it into perspective.

And after it all was..is said and done, it helped to close some much needed doors and fears I had about growing old and further away from my family.

It looks like I was right all along that America is not where I belong and being that I moved out a little over 16 years old and began my life on the run at 20, it definitely opens my eyes to maybe why I left and stayed away in the first place.

As good as things are with the rest of the family, I can still see this so clearly now. Which was necessary to bring me to the peace I needed to feel, at leaving it all behind forever. Or at least for what now feels like forever. I suppose there really is no forever.

I was the happiest arriving home than any other time and calling Innsbruck and Europe home, I mean a real home and what an amazing feeling.

Getting on that crazy autobahn, stopping at a beautiful little village in the alps before home, by the sea, watching the sunset with my husband.
Driving into my little city with the pretty snow-capped alps, driving up to our 100 year old apartment then walking in and smelling the 100 year-old wood floors, was nothing short of amazing. Even having the real wife moment I had been waiting for.... my husbands pile of unanswered mail, laundry and dead plants.

I have never in my life felt a sense of home or belonging anywhere.
And although life is still life and I will always be a tumbleweed, I realize how good I managed to make things.
Now after my wanderings, I get to come back to a real home, with a beautiful man and real friends, a life. Something I never thought I would get to see in well, my lifetime.

It's late and I've definitely rambled. So I guess I'll save the story of playing at my 7 year old niece Maya's school for the next one. That's whole nother' epiphany altogether and boy did that give me new wings to fly on.

love from a happy but sleepy jet-lagged and happy wandering homebody,
Chris

just gone...

2008-04-22T09:44:00.000+02:00

Hitchhiking back home because we walked too far and we were late for dinner. Six and seven years old.

Staying awake all night, going to 7-11 to buy junk food. Stay up, eat it, wait for the milkman to come and run around the neighborhood stealing milk. Sometimes mom waking in the middle of it all telling us to get inside and us running for dear life, laughing and saying, "noooo" (giggle, giggle) Around seven and eight years old.

Ditching school with our big brother as the ring leader. Going to the laundry mat where my sister said, "there was all kinds of fun to be had."
Putting our little brother in large dryers, pushing each other around in the laundry carts. Eleven, seven, six and four years old.

Having Cinemax in our room growing up, getting a way too early lesson by watching movies like "Lady Chaderly's lover." Always.

Toilet papering our neighbor's house across the street and realizing she'd know it was us, so toilet papering our own - then getting caught.

These are the stories I am falling asleep to.
These are the tales my sister told me tonight and despite the fact that I am supposed to be the storyteller, I can't remember a thing about.

If you asked me what my childhood was like, I would say not tragic but ignored. I would say we raised ourselves. All five of us and that's sadly the truth.
I would sigh in relief we all turned out pretty good considering.

There are so many more that even now as I sit in bed, I can't remember.

Everytime I come to Merced and stay with my older sister by one year, Nettie, I get a glimpse into my past, a childhood that to this day, I cannot remember.

There are little bits here but hardly anything really. And as far as long stories about scenarios and moments both mischevious and hilarious, I couldn't tell you.

It's a strange thing I never really explored or that has seemed to bother me.
Not remembering I mean.

But I suppose the older I get, the more I realize if I can't remember not only the stories but my childhood now, I never will. And like my sister said, without siblings, I'd have no history.

So after a belly-laughing conversation and bonding with my wonderful sister, I am excited to see what I will dream.

I am kind of hoping she planted a seed and maybe some great story or memory will just play itself out like a movie.

I would love to know what it was like to be me as a kid. I have no idea, no recollection at all.

Anyway, what were we doing staying up all night going to convenience stores, stealing the neighborhoods milk and hitchhiking back home at six and seven?
Where was everyone?

floating...

2008-04-21T07:00:00.001+02:00

Wow, when did I ever feel this relaxed.

Sitting in the hot tub with my first glass of red wine (or anything alcoholic for that matter) in nearly 2 months, was next to being with my husband, a wonderful celebratory evening.

I'm with my sister and her family and finally, even though still buried in work, beginning to feel the stress of the last months lift. *ahhh*

It's surprisingly chilly in California right now (which I admittedly love) and was the perfect night for a hot tub.
It made me miss my sauna's with one of my best friends Patri but was a good distraction until I make my way home this weekend.

My intended day of departure was Wednesday but as it turns out, I have a lot to do here before I go, including a photo shoot as well as a reunion with my friend and producer of Little Lighthouse BZ.

So although I am dying to get home, I went ahead and changed my plans to fly out Saturday instead. And because of all the March 27 Terminal 5 stress, the wonderful British Airways specialist Dave changed my flight 2 times free of charge. *yay* (Thanks Dave!)

I have mixed feelings, as always, about leaving America and heading for Austria.

On one hand, I am with my family and just as I get into the zone, it's time to go. On the other hand, I am completely missing my husband, friends and life back in Innsbruck and can't wait to fly home.

As always, I can never figure out what I want or what is right or... So I just go with the flow (as usual) and let the universe figure out the kinks and make it right.

At least Dave informed me today the British Airways Terminal 5 in London kinks have been worked out so that's something.
And after shipping a container from Austin to Austria via an International shipping company, giving away the last of things and hauling the leftover bits here, I am not exactly jumping for joy at the thought of hauling all of this through them.
We'll see but I'm hoping for the best.

It has taken me some years to get this point.
This point of everything (nearly) I own in one place, one country.
And although it's been time consuming, expensive and sometimes very troublesome, I am very excited at the idea of not attaching one more Uhaul...ever again.

The days of taking everything I owned from state to state, country to country either in a big truck, car towing a Uhaul or suitcase, does not appeal to me in the least bit. Not anymore anyway.

Dreaming of the peaceful days that await me in Innsbruck, in between the hectic touring ones, keeps me on my toes and waiting to see what comes next.

At the moment, at least until the next nearby wave hits, I am relaxing the night away feeling accomplished and proud of all my hard work.

Just floating.

12 makes me happy today...

2008-04-19T18:41:00.000+02:00

12 must be my lucky number today.

I woke up at 4:12am with enough time to head out to the airport, check in my 3 guitars and 3 very large bags from clearing out storage completely, finally.
I arrived at oddly enough 5:12 with enough time to breath and walk calmly to my gate without running.
I sat at row 12 and met the most amazing person. We completely annoyed all within earshot with our laughing and talking but I don't care. After being on vocal rest, sucking on lozengers and drinking throat teas on my way, then after what I went through when I arrived in Austin with allergies, talking to my hearts content was well, a relief that I am still me and able to relax and chat on planes. :-)
The whole don't talk, breath your nose and suck lozengers was getting very, very old.

I am sitting now in Denver, Colorado at the airport. My layover is long which I purposefully planned as the other connection left me with only 30 minutes to spare from plane to plane. And with all my luggage I knew I would have, I figured that could get risky too.

I am chatting via Skype with my husband, eating my yummy organic apples...yeeehaw and reflecting on the very hectic but amazing and accomplished 12 days in Austin.

I don't want to give anything away ... or too much anyway ... about the record but I will tell you because I think I forgot to, my voice on Monday (the second to the last day of recording) returned to about 80%! Not 100 but enough to get a great sound out of these here old lungs and although I couldn't totally reach my head voice, it all worked out in the end.
Mark tells me I got a great little record here and from what I heard when I left, I would have to agree. More work is taking place as we speak. Very exciting.
I still can't believe it.

Yesterday, Dick and I met to discuss the cover and we have one! Yeehaw... So now that it's out of the way, we can build from there.
About 2 weeks or less to get this done is pushing it but like the record time recording this record (get it? heee... lame I know, sorry) things seem to be falling into place.

After all the loans and organizing/coordinating, details and stress, it's going to be if not in my hands in time for the start of my touring in June, surely by mid-June give or take.

Speaking of, "tumbleweed... " is also coming. More on that later as I haven't even begun to think past getting the files mastered. That is done and now I will think about the cover.

So much work to be done.
And although I feel very accomplished and totally exhausted, I am up for it and ready for the remaining long haul ahead of me. Including the insane schedule I will be keeping this summer and fall.

We'll see.

Funny how things work out in the end.

All it is taking today is the number 12 to give me hope.

Blowing through...

2008-04-15T00:11:00.001+02:00

After driving over the bridge every night from the studio, watching the locals and tourists alike line up to watch the bats wake, last night I finally "caved" in (get it? lol) and stopped to watch.

It was fun to join in the crowds lining the bridge and the river banks below with picnic baskets, wine and cameras.
It's cooled down a bit the last few days and the weather has been absolutely glorious. Though, as a self-confessed cold-weather lover, I will admit I missed the mid-late 80's - 100% humid weather we had the first week I was here.

It was like a warm blanket wrapping around you, making your skin silky soft.
I actually started to enjoy it.
What I didn't enjoy living was (and never, ever will) were the long late-spring/summer and fall unbearably HOT months. No siree.

On a new note...

Today was both productive and fun.
I had my first day off from recording, it is Sunday after all.

I started the day by waking WAY too early, 6am. Nonetheless, it got me to a great start and I got a lot done for a day off.
I was too early for Austin Java, they weren't even open yet. So I logged into their free internet in the parking lot waiting for them to open. *smile*

I enjoyed my first cup of coffee with cream since leaving California.
That was by far the highlight.
Oh yes, I am already imagining it again after Tuesday when I have no more vocals. *yay*

I skyped with my husband for a couple of hours while working in between on graphic stuff, emails, trying to cut down the never-ending to do list while I am here this last week.

I met with my graphic designer and we got a really great start to the project. I can't wait to meet again this week and see how it's going.

On my way out, I decided to hit up my storage unit which was something I have been dreeeeeeaming about for a long time now.
Wow! It was like going shopping! I had soooo many clothes that I forgot how much I loved just waiting for me. I really feel like I went on a shopping spree. So great.
And the best part? I FOUND my favorite, old fishing hat with all the pins I have been collecting since a child.
I though I had lost this when the UK postal service lost, then destroyed a package of my things my friend tried to send me from the UK to Austria. *yay*

After digging through all my goods (very joyfully) I made piles and decided what I will ditch, ship and try to haul in my extra 3 (yes, I said 3) bags I plan to take on the plane. Is this even possible? I have no idea. But dammit all if I am leaving my old Martin guitar, mandolin, vintage suitcases, box of old lyrics from here and there and all those wonderful clothes. No way sucker. Not this time.
I'll find a way.

So I am back at the condo now.
My plan to sit poolside went far out the window but that's ok, I made the most amazing spinach salad yet, cleaned up before I pick up Karen tomorrow (I've been lucky to have it all to myself) went through some discs I found with old demo's I had forgotten about that I will add to formerly named, "tumbleweed the live album" to the newly named, "Odds 'n' ends... live, unreleased & other oddities."
Don't worry, the tumbleweed live album will for sure be next.

Now I am getting ready to work out my song part on a beautiful co-write I did with my very talented Norweigen friend.

I guess I am trucking along now and despite the past week being a total vocal nightmare for me, I actually feel pretty close to normal today. Go figure.
Just toward the end...
On well.

I may end up in there doing a marathon re-recording of vocals if need be but despite my voice, Mark tells me it's great and sounds great... so maybe I will have to re-listen and decide. We'll see.

All I know is the steriods have calmed a bit. I am still suffering the D word (sorry, gross) and the last 24 hours had a slight, dry nose bleed but otherwise, I don't feel too weird. And it seems the weight gain I had last time I took the pills isn't coming. That's nice because although I am far from vein, I have been losing weight with my super healthy eating and giving up all things booze and sugar to prepare my voice for the record. A lot of good it did me in the long run but the weight loss was a nice surprise.

I'm looking forward to hearing Karen's mandolin on the record, having a surprise vocal guest *smile* and driving through this weird, beautiful town.

Austin never ceases to amaze me. On the ride home from storage (oh yes, this was after my quick stop at my favorite Goodwill on S. Lamar) I saw in a matter of minutes; a man that looked like he should be on the cover of GQ with only shorts and flip flops on a harley, a homeless "cowboy" who held up a sign saying, "Howdy, I'm just an old cowboy," two grown men in front of a toy store on the sidewalk playing an array of toy instruments to entice people in and a runner that looked to be 80. He was hauling butt too. And the smell. Oh, I can't describe that but I'll try. Why don't I say it's just like a never-ending barbq smell everywhere.

I don't think I will ever "really" live in America again. I adapted well to the slower, calmer pace of European life and realized it's much more suited to my neurotic nature. Being in a busy country just blew me in circles all the time. I don't miss that at all. Family and friends, that's another story.

But I do love Austin and have a new appreciation for it when I blow through town.

love,
Chris

Going backwards...

2008-04-14T23:46:00.000+02:00

Going backwards for a minute (take my mind off the sensitive vocal stuff - although today has been GREAT and we are re-doing alot of them...more on that later)... back to going backwards....

This first photo was the start of my March 27, 2008 flight of Munich via London en route to San Francisco.
Keep in mind it was not even 9:30am yet and to celebrate their Terminal 5, they gave us champagne and gummy bears!
So this was my first photo of the journey... hopeful;

This was the 5 hour Terminal 5 line I was in that had people waiting for hotels, connections ideas, basically an update on what the hell was going on. This was the second photo of the journey... chaos;

I spent the whole 7 days I waited for my luggage in a freak out going online constantly to see if they were found yet, calling the special 800 number to no avail.
Keep in mind, I was told my bags were amongst 28,000 stranded bags - I really didn't think I'd be seeing them again.
This was the night I refreshed the browser like a psycho and got the good news... happy;

Sunday morning coffee with cream...

2008-04-13T15:35:00.001+02:00

You have no idea how delicious my cup of coffee with real cream is tasting right now. *smile*

On my day off, today Sunday, I am allowing myself to partake in an otherwise big no-no, coffee with cream.

It's Sunday and I was wide awake at 6:00am. *ugh*

Although I am not in the studio today, I do have a 10:30am graphics appointment with my designer. I suppose after my crazy dream of dog suicide (don't ask, I have NO idea) I had too much anxiety even for my sleep.

So I have a few more days this week remaining.

Tomorrow I pick up my friend Karen from the airport and drive her straight to the studio to play mandolin on my record. *yay*

I'm staying in her totally cozy condo and even though I normally dread warmth and heat (I know, I am crazy) today I was really hoping for one of those 80-90+ 100% humid days like when I arrived last week. Oh well. Karen has a pool and that was on my mind after my meeting today. *sigh* Maybe next week before I leave.

It's been a hell of a ride I tell ya'.
I never imagined recording in such a short time frame with full blown Austin, Texas allergies would be so completely and utterly challenging. I mean, of course I wasn't expecting the allergy part - or whatever the heck is going on.

I knew it would be work, it always is. But what I just went through and it seems only have one vocal left to get through next week, was seriously like pulling teeth.

I was never an allergy sufferer and until last week and at present, I never really understood all the fuss about them. Boy did I have a lesson to learn.

It pretty much rendered my head/high voice useless which meant singing around it, changing arrangements etc... and my middle, at times pretty challenging connecting it all. There were times literally, I had such big globs in my throat (sorry) that you could hear it in the mic very clearly. *ick*

It's turning out I am not freaking out emotionally on the steriod shot like I did when Dr. Kessler gave me the pills 3 years ago so I could sing at Telluride.

However, I am noticing some other nasty side effects. *sigh*
Jumpier than hell, nausea, headache, major stomach pain and cramps, the D word (I won't go there) and little chipmunk cheeks. Totally weird to say the least.

Yesterday after recording the vocals for Wanderin' I went to ly down and when I got up, nearly passed out.
This whole experience has been both desperate and difficult and on a day off, at this moment, I can see also somewhere down the road something to learn from and as always, a good story.

So alas, I am feeling in good spirits today.

I may see where my voice is at Monday and Tuesday on the last days and if it's close to normal, I may do a marathon re-do of some vocals. We'll see.

Mark, Ned and Andre swear they sound good despite not being in top form but you know how singers are. Or if you don't, let's just say we expect a lot from ourselves. I know the level I can perform and sing at and when for reasons like this I can't, it's like taking away the legs of a runner.

I'll have a new perspective on everything tomorrow after this much needed day off. Or sort of day off.

I have to practice my part on a song I wrote with a Norweigen friend, clean the condo before I get Karen tomorrow and continue working on graphic stuff.
So I guess it's not technically a day off.

Although since I am not singing in the mic today and I am getting a cup of coffee with cream, I feel like it's a whole weekend to be honest.
It's amazing what a good cup of joe as we say in America can do for you.

And as we say here in Tejas, yeeeehaw!

love,
Chris

Studio session 3 update...

2008-04-12T20:06:00.001+02:00

After writing my morning blog, I decided to call my doctor in New York for advice.

What I got was a referral to the vocal doctor that treats Lyle Lovett.
That was enough legitimacy for me.
And as it turns out, it's also the vocal doctor for my producer Mark.
Done deal. I'm there.

I called immediately, begged and was seen 45 minutes later.

I postponed my graphics appointment and sat in anticipation, after telling my long
sorted past, present .... and waited for the news & my asap treatment plan.

What I did, that I swore after the Telluride Festival incident I'd never do again, was take steriods.
The difference was instead of pills, I took half a dose by way of a shot in the hips. A nice fat needle straight through the skin.

Although I am a bit scared of the outcome, when I was told this would shrink
these apparent allergy-inflamed sinuses, I was all for it. There is too much time
and money and well, people involved and invested in this project to not do everything I can to make this work.

Though fair enough, I have serious reason to hesitate on the steriods front.
Last time I tried them for a vocal problem not only did it not help but made me pretty pyscho. Then again, steriods wasn't going to give me any kind of voice back as
in that incidence, it turned out I had a tracheal infection which ultimately needed
the right antibiotics.

Anyway...

Today, after the said shot, I got a bag full of this and that, sudaphedren (or however you spell that) nasal sprays, you name it and I am well full of it. Of course no pun is intended. *smile*

Now I am writing from the studio, watching the awesome Mark play bass on Angel you've come too soon and Andre run the boards. Taking a minute here and there between takes to write.

Andre tells me that if that vocal was considered bad (the one that threw me into years yesterday) then he was really, really excited to hear the good stuff.
This gives me the confidence I will need to make it out it one piece, with a great
record in my hands. At least that is what I am telling myself.

I'm not sure why my traveling & it seems vocal luck is the way it is. But rest assured, this is not bringing me down in the slightest because if all else fails, I have a plan B.
And at the end of the day, in the big scheme of life, this is far less important than
things like my family, husband and friends. I stand by that no matter what happens.

People run marathons with one leg. Some people have no legs and enter marathon races in wheelchairs. For crying out loud as my dad says, there are far
more important things in life to worry about.
And wasn't it the Irish proverb that tells us, "worry is the interest you pay on the troubles of tomorrow?"

Yeah.
I'm ok.
I am.

Just a little bummed after all the work to get the money and the flights and the schedules for all involved. All the preparation, trials while traveling. *sigh*
Really I am ok.

Totally bummed but optimistic the universe will make things right.

til soon...
love from Austin,
Chris

Studio session 2 (& part of 3)

2008-04-11T20:26:00.000+02:00

Day 2 and 3 (studio)...

I want to give you (and me) good news.

I want to say my allergies or cold or whatever it is that is completely
clogging my nose and throat is not interfering ... but I'd be lying through
well, my nose.

Yesterday (day 2) was a rough day vocal-wise.

We got an amazing mix of Angel you've come too soon turning it into a
bittersweet road song. I was so happy that when I ran down into the "hole" (I say
that fondly) to record vocals to say I was more than disappointed in my performance is a huge understatement.

With all the teas, sudafed, claritin, sprays, mucinex and even Fed Ex'd vocal
vapors from my Dr. Kessler in New York, it was still well, not there.

What does this mean?

That if I am very lucky, by our last session Tuesday I will have beat whatever
this is and have a voice.

The downside?

If I don't, we are making arrangements for me to sing my heart out when I return to Innsbruck and send the vocal files to Austin - which will then be mixed/mastered
and head out to duplication.

In the long run, this may mean the release is pushed back by maybe 4 weeks.

Now... this is not something I am fond of doing.
In fact, yesterday after this said performance as I was sitting in the control room in
tears, I was comforted by this plan B.

Because despite all the people I feel on my shoulder pressuring me (and cheering
me) I realize this is life and things do not always work out the way we had planned,
no matter how hard we try or want them to.

So... *sigh* this is just a little news to let you know, there is a slight chance plan B.
may take effect.

If you have any deals with god or angels or .... please, can I cash in any amount
I may have alloted?

I have come so far, I can't believe it.
I have and continue to try everything short of taking two days out and flying to
New York to see my doctor. And trust me, I am considering this.

Remember that summer I flew in from Sweden to play Telluride and had laryngitis?
That was important enough for me to fly into New York to see Dr. Kessler personally. And well, this is beyond that .... so... hmm...

Finances are not great. Borrowed, sponsored, you name it.
But I may have to may it work.

I am a fighter and although it big scheme of life this is nothing, I am in the thick
of it (no pun intended) and plan on fighting.

I have a saying, "Will it matter in a day, in a week .... in a month ... in a year?"

Maybe today it is time to practice this as a mantra.
At the end of the day, I have my health (for the most part) my family and friends,
a wonderful husband, a life I am happy with.

I am done whining and updating.

Although your dances to the gods would be greatly appreciated.

with love and gratitude for all that is life,
Chris
p.s I haven't gone in for day 3 yet. Heading to my graphic designer in 2 hours, then will be back. I'll let you know how it goes - as well as upload the video I made yesterday. <3

Studio session 1...

2008-04-10T17:54:00.000+02:00

Day 1 and 4 songs down. Yay!

After one claritin, sudafed, a whole lotta' throat coat, breath easy and ginger tea - entertainer's secret spray and just a ton of water, my voice is resembling something
close to what it should be. *whew*

The stress of the London Terminal 5 Heathrow threw my body into a cold that came
on so fast that even I questioned it could come from that.
But after talking with my vocal doctor I can confirm being over-stressed and over-heated for hours can often throw your body into a sort of fever, i.e bringing on any
bug that may have been lurking.

My producer Mark and his awesome assistant Jed were nothing short of amazing
and everything I could have imagined it to be working easily and painlessly.

You see, recording for me is like, well - pulling teeth.
And being that mom is going under the knife tomorrow, it's no small comparison and do not use it lightly.

But really, some artists thrive in the studio. I am not one of them.

Although, after today, I maybe have to re-think everything I ever thought about being in the studio. It's hard work yes, that is undebatable. But wow, with the right combination, you can work your 8 hour day laughing and smiling.

I took only a few photo's at the end of the day.
It took awhile to get into the groove ... for me anyway ... but I promise more
photo's and videos coming soon!

I heard on the news last night it's tornado weather. Oh joy.
Remember that year we (as in America) had a record 400+ in one week? I think it was 2003 maybe?
Anyway, that was the year I lived in Nashville and was touring my way to California. I was stuck in 3 that week. One in Tennessee, one in Arkansas and one on the Texas panhandle. There are of course others, like living in Texas and even one major one before I lived here and was only touring through in 2001. And...geez, I hardly remember anymore.
All I know is, I don't like them.

Mark and I were talking about earthquakes today and I realized, having grown up in them in California, they never scared me one lick. Seriously.

But tornadoes... please, anything but those.

So I am singing off at 21:05. I'm going to have a late dinner of the biggest spinach salad you have seen and then dream away the tornadoes.
If a girl can dream post it notes have legs and are chasing her off a cliff, surely she can dream away a tornado?

You think?

BBQ & bugs...

2008-04-08T22:57:00.000+02:00

The pilot was not kidding when he said at after 19:00, it was still 88 degress.

I was landing in Austin, Texas and shortly thereafter in my rental car, I rolled the windows down.

I was greeted by warm, moist air that smelled like a combination of wildflowers and BBQ.

Literally in minutes, the bugs began their attack as they always do to me in Texas. Something about the bugs here and my juices I guess. *sigh*

I am sitting now, at Austin Java, my favorite spot to sit online for free but today, I am off the caffeine due to recording and drinking my ginger, breathe easy and throat coat teas.

Lucky me has somehow managed in 24 hours to show signs of allergies.
Everything has gone down south, straight to my cords and made them nice and gooey. Oh, sorry.

I am about to Skype with my husband, finish this tea, get some sudafed and do some serious begging from the universe to make this all well by noon tomorrow when recording begins.

The rental car agency gave me a bright red rabbit and already, as I drive by the Texas rangers, I can see their eyes widen. Not the best color to ward off tickets.

Otherwise, just trying to stay calm, prepare for graphics meetings with my designer in between recording and if I am real lucky, get back to my friend Karen's condo where I am staying and utilize that enticing pool!

After all, it is already unbearably hot (for me) and I don't think the bugs will chase me in there.

Even though I am in a Cafe and not driving around smelling the amazing food throughout this whole town, I now have BBQ on my mind.
I can't get it out actually.

I have changed everything about the way I used to eat. Ribs are out.
But after the time, money and stress it has taken to make it this far, I am going to say a plate of ribs from Artz Rib House is for sure on the menu, in the plan and a must before I head out.

More soon....
love,
Chris

one year...

2008-04-04T18:49:00.001+02:00

I am back on the roads - getting ready to finish the new record.

In California at the moment and about to head back to Austin, Texas.

I woke up today not with my million things to do list on my mind but with both a smile and a sad face (because I am not there) that today is my one year wedding Anniversary.

Happy Anniversary Muecke! I love you!

love,
me
p. Save me some cake!

lonely stranger...

2008-04-03T02:56:00.001+02:00

March 27th at 9:30, with a glass of bubbly in hand to celebrate the opening of Heathrow/British Airways Terminal 5, I loaded my 2 very large bags into the British Airways system - from Munich - on a wing and a prayer I would ever see them again.

Before shows, I have weird things I like to do. Like play with my harmonica holder a certain way while pacing in circles.
I don't like to talk to anyone about 10 minutes before and I drink my slippery elm throat coat tea like it's going out of style. Sometimes I go to the bathroom nearly 4 times in those 10 minutes and on the not so rare occasion find myself running for the stage as my name is being called.

So when I put luggage on a flight, it's no different in the routine department.
While checking in, I have this little goodbye parting with my bag, asking it nicely to please make sure it pushes and pounds its way to the other end, where I promise to lovingly be there waiting to take care of it.
I secure everything so it has a chance of getting less banged up. I proudly set it down knowing it's one tough cookie and think how lucky I am it's my travel companion and carrying so many important things.

Today is April 2 and finally, after much stressing and compulsive online checking and phone calling with my lost luggage reference number, I read that it has been found!

Out of from I hear now is 28,000 bags in a pile in London with a mere 450 volunteers doing it all by hand, I am totally and completely amazed.

And what has made this worse than say, if I were on a holiday is everything I have needed (except for my guitar thank goodness) is in my 2 very large suitcases. One of which Eagle Creek calls the trunk if that tells you how big I am talking here!

So to say I have been stressing out since being put on a new flight - the day after boarding in Munich - out of London after my original connecting was canceled and being told both bags may be in bag land for weeks to come, is putting it very, very mildly.

I was supposed to start driving by Thursday actually and with the bag situation being dire for me, I scrapped that and decided flying into Austin would buy me an extra few days to wait for them to come.

And that it did. *whew*

During the past 7 days, I have literally lay awake thinking of every last thing I put in those bags, making a mental list of what I had lost. Irreplaceable things and all the files and documents for my graphics. The now I see stupidly placed 50 autographed Little Lighthouse CD's for my main distributor who has been out forever, presents for family.
What was I thinking?
It seems I wasn't.

As ridiculous as it may seem when we have much bigger things going on in this crazy world, to me, this was a big big bleep that in the end would cost me and my husband thousands upon thousands of Euros and already, from the stress I had developed a cold.
A cold to a singer is like the plague and with recording commencing in less than a week, I was preparing myself for no voice. Which equals no recording. Which of course means no new CD... canceled tours, career caput.
And after coming out of over a year of burnout and the past eight months in and out of hospitals, I was not going down without a fight. Not this time.

I am a pro-active kind of girl. Anyone who knows me or has read my journals over the years knows, that although I seem to have some kind of terrible traveling luck (being put smack dab into whatever is going on) I always fight my way through smiling and hoping and being pretty darn positive.

So in the larger scheme of things this really is nothing.
But in my world, it was 5 years of waiting and loans that would be just be gone.
The hope hanging on this by my family, my friends, fans and readers. By my agent and my husband, myself. Was well, huge.
People sometimes hang their hopes on your coat rack and I say this not complaining by any means ... but after having let down everyone and in the process considering hanging up my own dreams last year, I started to wonder what the heck was going on. 2008 has been really amazing thus far and trust me, it was not easy to get to a good year.

So when I posted on a news site my opinion and soon thereafter received hate mail, I was beside myself.

Not angry or sad or any of those things. Just completely surprised that because I was affected by what I and many others consider to be British Airways trying to save money on training their employees (as this is the start of the entire luggage system breakdown) I am deemed by this obviously bored person an 'ugly American.'

Has she not read anything about me or my life, my past...present?

And although I am over it now - both her and the bags - I still can't help but wonder what the heck she was thinking.

It's crazy to think.

The whole carrying a guitar on a plane thing.
People somehow think we are getting away with something.
Like we are having too much "fun" and should not be allowed to carry them on.
You get glares when you do.
And really, have you ever looked at how much space a guitar takes up compared to a business traveler carrying it all? You can't even compare.
And would an airline ask a business man to leave his tool - his large laptop bag, carry on with sometimes his suit wrapped around it behind?
Are you kidding?

We are not getting away with anything. This is our job.
And although we love it and it can be fun sometimes, like everyone, this is a job. A job we must get on a bazillion flights and trains, boats and into cars for. A job where we give literally every single last ounce of energy in the hopes something we sing or say will inspire and help someone. Inspire us to keep going and watching life and listening and writing and singing.

A job that most times, especially in the world of folk music - most presenters, radio DJ's, bookers and so on, volunteer.
They volunteer because they love it.
They volunteer because they believe in the powerful healing of non-commercial, society-fed music.

And we try our hardest to write good songs and sing them with emotion and soul. We try really hard to make sure we keep writing more and finding money somehow to make more CD's. CD's that cost no less than 10,000 each time and in the end, usually double and triple that amount.

And we don't do it because our record label tells us we have to be a money making machine. We don't have one.
And we're not all young and beautiful and trying to get played on top radio or write a hit country song.
A folk singers prime is usually past 40. If we're lucky.

Most of us are doing it for some inexplainable reason.
Some drive that takes hold at whatever point in our lives and does not, despite the sometimes clawing to get away, go away.

It puts us on the roads with little in our pockets, hopefully watching the faces of our audiences and crossing every finger and toe they like us. That they really like us.

We don't need to be rich and good thing because we never will be.

We just want to pay our bills like everyone else.
We want to try and be happy doing what we are doing and on days when we would rather stay in bed, we try our hardest like we all do, to get up and go to work. Give it our best shot.
We don't want to stay out too long because we want to have lives outside of our jobs. We want to see our families and friends and do things like paint or take long walks, pick strawberries and bake pies with them.

And I say all this not for any other reason than this person.
This anonymous person who I will probably never in my life meet.

I say to her - to you - please, before you jump the gun and judge someone, please step back and take a look at why you do what you do.
You want to be happy like every one of us I suspect.
And if any of us are lucky - even remotely - we somewhere, somehow in whatever line of work, inspire someone to be happy, be themselves, not be afraid to love or be loved, stay alive or start living.

This post is dedicated to you stranger.

We are all lost in some way or form.
We all need a safe place to go.
Me included.

I know the internet is not one of them.
I can and have accepted that.

But music for me is mine.
Next to my family of course.

And although we don't know each other and you and I have no stakes in one another's happiness, I hope you too have a hope, a dream, a safe place to go.

I hope you never feel like something as silly as delayed bags and a cold will kill them. It's pretty ridiculous yes ... but real.
At least for me.

I will gladly share my safe place with you any day and I do hope we meet out there. I will sing a song just for you to celebrate.

love, Chris

the price of a connection...

2008-03-27T19:52:00.003+01:00

18:50 British time

A glass of champagne?

Is that enough to start off my supposed relatively painless flight
from Munich via London to San Francisco?

Because that is what British Airways gave us checking in at 9:30 this morning to celebrate the opening of their new Terminal 5 in Heathrow.

I figured a glass of bubbly at an ungodly naughty hour would at least mean the start of a very good travel day.

*cringe*

So now I write to you from a British Airways sponsored London hotel room, while on a £17 ($40 US!) internet connection - to say, champagne can make up
for sitting on planes for hours, lost luggage, almost 4 hours in line to try and get out, a $40 internet connection, well...

*ehem*

And I changed all my Euro over already into dollars thinking it would be best. Damn.

When did our dollar get so low? Yikes.

And now I want to upload the mayhem video I took and photo's but it seems I didn't foresee any problems and packed my power source in my lost checked in luggage. *sigh*

I am running on empty (in more than one way) and will have to cut this short. I did get on here long enough to cancel my ride on the other end in San Francisco and reschedule for tomorrow's rebooked flight (granted it actually goes!) and send you this little note.

Now I must go and use my dinner coupon and meet the large amount of friends I met at the airport, on the bus here and in the lobby. We are having a "We hate British Airways new Terminal 5" dinner party. It was decided I bring my guitar and we write and video tape a song just for the occasion. Oh the joys of traveling as a folk singer. I did actually miss this part.

til next time...
leibe grüße,
Christene

I was in, I was out...

2008-03-19T22:52:00.001+01:00

... and good thing too because I am talking about the dentist.

At first I found it really odd that she said literally, nothing to me
other than the occasional "open" in German.

It didn't take long at all to realize this is a very good thing.

You see, back in the states, I have had the same dentist since I was 9 years old.

Even when I moved around out of state, out of the country, had no insurance - whatever ... he was always there to help me out, clean me up and strike some kind of deal so I wouldn't end up toothless.
Hallelujah!

But my oh my if he didn't tell the longest stories of my entire life.

Heck, I'm a storyteller too, I know the draw to keep em coming and going and...
um.

But I am beginning to put the pieces together as to why my office visits took
all afternoon.

As lonely as I sometimes felt as my dentist made a mad dash for the room next to me to tend to another - while I numbed up - I was also relieved I could just close my eyes, rest and count on her dashing back in to get me move on out.

I guess they get paid per customer here.

So after a non-harrowing but more like lovely little nap in a quiet room, good and drugged up, I've had a pretty good day.

I was in, I was out.

Found footage - 2006 concert in Stockholm, Sweden with my trio, "The Black Sheep girls." This was at the end of a long 3-month tour throughout Europe

2008-03-19T14:45:00.004+01:00

mein tag war sehr interessant...

2008-03-18T20:40:00.000+01:00

All in all, it's been a pretty interesting day.

Dressed mildly for Spring only to be caught in a snow flurry.

Ended up being interviewed on local TV and I spoke German
understandably.

Was walking my bike across the crosswalk when a car stopped for me...
a second later the car behind him crashed into him.

I gave my first real help to tourists, at least 3 minutes worth - entirely in German on where to go to have an inexpensive lunch - nearby and how to get there exactly.

I found a 10 Euro bill at the Supermarket and paid for half of my groceries, mainly gifts for frieds & family in the US next week.

About the only downside (other than the poor suckers who crashed their cars and my cold Spring-like jacket) for some reason my key to get into the building didn't work.

Luckily we have good friends I could ring and get buzzed in.
Still.

I came home to an email that my friend can house me while in Austin for the record... which was a nice cross off my check list of a million things to do in one week.

It was a very interesting day.
Not perfect but damn near it.

Murder of the little yellow paper...

2008-03-17T23:58:00.001+01:00

Last night I dreamed my post-it notes had legs and were chasing me off a cliff.

So that's the downside.

The upside would be I am back in action, riding once again on the folk train.
Trying to get ready to sing and record, planning graphics and meetings here and abroad - trying to maintain just a little bit of a social life before I go (this one I am letting go the last couple of weeks) and more importantly, keep my marriage happy - is well, even for a crazy girl like me - a stretch.

After a meeting with a potential sponsor today, we walked home through the Hofgarten.

I had never actually walked all the way through before, which also meant I never really saw the giant chess set.
Literally, statue-sized chess pieces you move about a small basketball court-sized painted on the cement playing "board."

As we walked past and watched two elderly men bundled up for the winter, carefully lifting the chess pieces and going at it - everything just seemed so big and complicated, yet somehow slow and easy.

When I came home and stared at the post it notes in question before me, I was able to see them in a new light.

Compared to the game I just witnessed, they seemed a heck of a lot easier to manuever
and at the very least, I can crumple them up and that's the last of it.

Til the next batch that is.

Now - if I dream tonight my post-it notes are calling out at me "check mate," I will seriously be checking into the nearest hospital, playing alot of chess for a long time to come.

A good cause my niece is participating in... !

2008-03-10T12:27:00.000+01:00

My niece Camila once asked me about when I used to run marathons for charity. She sighed when I told her how many miles and how hard it was.

Now she found a way to do it - goooo Camila!

*****

Auntie Tina,

Hello! I am jumping rope to help the American Heart Association fight heart disease and stroke in Jump Rope For Heart. Can you sponsor me by making a donation?

The American Heart Association's online fundraising website has a minimum donation amount of $25.00. If you want to donate less, that's ok. You can just send the check right to me and I'll make sure the American Heart Association gets it.

http://ahajump.kintera.org/faf/r.asp?t=4&i=248996&u=248996-207691296&e=1586313811
Follow This Link to visit my personal web page and help me in my efforts to support American Heart Association - Western States Affiliate

Reach out and ... ?

2008-03-08T22:11:00.001+01:00

This year has already proven to be one of the best yet - for me.

I am in awe and thanking every star and knocking on wood every chance I get.
After the year I've just been through, I feel especially grateful.

And I was thinking the other day about journaling about how much fun I am having speaking understandable German and being understood ... journal about getting orthotics for my shoes that in America cost me $500 for 24 euro here ... and a funny, funny day rodeln with my Innsbruck expats/locals group and while speeding down a snowy steep trail (in a snow storm) whizzing by my good Italian friend Patrizia on her rodel - talking to her mom on her cell phone! The last time I saw anything that crazy was while running the Rome, Italy marathon. At mile 12 an Italian man ran past me while casually and not out of breath I might add, talking on his cell phone.
I was preparing myself for a Italian cell phone blog....

But then while on my bike heading to see my bone doctor - I had this experience that I decided outweighed everything I thought I wanted to say.

I was riding down a one-way street - but really crawling with my leg out pushing myself along - and on the sidewalk.
Now I know this sounds dangerous but I assure you I was practically walking it.
And this 2 minute detour saved me about 15 minutes on a day I could not be late. Being even minutes late in Austria for a doctors appointment means you wait another hour.

Ahead of me, was an elderly women with her back turned, looking in a window.

I was very aware of her and slowed down almost to a stop and if it weren't for the bike seat I was "sitting" on, I was almost technically walking.

When she turned around I had a feeling a dirty look might be coming my way.
So I prepared myself.

And then as I neared closer, I realized not only a scowl was coming but a good old fashioned Tyrolean lashing.

Not only did she scowl and yell but in a matter of seconds as I began to pass, her arm reached out and in one instant, I was officially pushed over by an old lady off my bike.

She was yelling German and pointing her finger, hitting my arm - poking me to the point I am bruised. No kidding.

And I am pulling myself together and despite being completely and utterly in shock, amazingly, I carried on.

I didn't tremble or cry or get all disoriented as I might have say maybe somewhere in America if anything like this had happened.

Because you see, there is something about Tyroleans and rules.
They are very dead set against their rules and people following them. And for whatever reason, they feel they have some sort of civic duty but more often than not, self duty to make sure every last person is following every, single rule to a T.

And if you are not?
You get pointed at, scowled at and pushed over. Period.

So despite finding a happiness here that I think will keep me in Tyrol longer than any land has ever been ever to hold me, I will always have a little place in my heart and surprisingly let out a little giggle - for the little old ladies that feel the need to reach out and push someone.

cigarettes & rain...

2008-02-21T11:34:00.000+01:00

Riding my bike through altstadt today, smelling the combination of very cold air, roasting pizza's, sidewalk coffee & the very expensive perfume coming from the tourists, meant I nearly crashed into a wall.

I was in serious bliss and not because the combination is particularly interesting or makes much sense really. I mean perfume and pizza?

I can't tell you why or what happened but right then and there, I pulled over and needed to breeeeathe it all in.

There are just some smells, sometimes that make me happy.

I believe in the scientific approach citrus smells being pumped through an office to make everyone more productive, baking bread or chocolate chip cookies before guests arrive to fill them with immediate warmth...

I remember an odd smell of cigarettes and rain in London taking me on another
level and I don't smoke.

I can only guess it's a mix of all my senses being massaged, taken on a new
journey and in some cases, back in time.

A little unexpected brain workout, trip down memory lane and moment in the day to relax and breath.

view from my window...

2008-02-12T22:36:00.001+01:00

the wail...

2008-01-30T10:07:00.001+01:00

I told her not to be afraid of leaving those she loved or being left
by the ones she loved back.

It's how I lived and the only way I could live, in order to leave in
the first place.
If I thought too hard about what I was doing - what might happen and
who I was leaving, I surely would never had seen or done the things
I have. I would not be the person I am and desperately wanted and
needed to become.

She wants to leave. Badly.
She has wanted to leave since she was six years old.
It's in her bones - and although we are not blood sisters - it's like
the universe put us together almost 20 years ago and didn't tell us.
...because in every sense, she is my little sister.

I want to tell her to go go go, live and love and be loved - fall and
pick herself up as many times as she needs to.
But at the same time, I want to protect her from the very things I did
and the blindness I sometimes feel I had while leaving everyone behind.

It's a hard call and one I am not happy to make.

But I must make it just the same because that is what the world asked
of me when they put us together.
When they gave me the honor of being Mallory's big sister.

And now I am watching her leave.
I am watching her life become hers and stories being written
for only her to tell. So many I will never be there for, see or understand.
The way a life should be.

And all I can do is sit back and hope that my life on the run didn't entice
or romance her too much.
And that while running, the tales that were not so sweet, didn't scare
her from making her own and taking her own roads - good and bad.

For all it's worth, I think I was completely honest and bare boned about
what not being afraid to leave costs.

I hope.

Because sometimes it's true - I need to just sit down and wail.
One big wail like you hear coming from the mouths of the homeless
cats lingering along the fences.

I let one out every now and then.
Both to honor the ones I left and love - and release the pain that I know
because of it, will never go away.

I can see the view...

2008-01-24T09:12:00.000+01:00

Sleep.
Sleep changes everything.

When you have gone far too long without it, forcing it ... or downright begging for it, it would make sense the subject can get you well, a little tired.
Mind you, without the benefit of sleeping it off.

Since returning from my holiday trip to America, it's understandably been more disturbed than usual.

I have been trying everything to get a grip on it when one day recently, I just collapsed.
It was if my body had enough, all these years and just fell like a timber.
Like a child running and playing so hard while one second screaming at the top of their lungs - then the next, lying peacefully at the foot of the couch, or in the hallway, on the table. Wherever they happened to have their crash landing.

For me luckily, it's been in my bed.

For that and for the mere act of closing my eyes each night, dreaming away long movie-like dreams, even though lately the nightmarish kind - I am grateful.

I can already feel the weight of burdens and anxieties, the heaviness of an overloaded mind not being given the chance to unload in the night - lifted.

I awoke to a snow filled Alps outside my window. With a blue sunny sky and that perfectly crispy air you can only get on a perfectly snowy, sunny day.

And I feel like I am 29 again.
And not because I want to be because trust me, you couldn't pay me any amount of money to go there again. Any.
But I remember around there, having some kind of surreal never-ending flow of energy that didn't require sleep. And when I did get it, I was me amplified by 100.
And if I didn't spend those days becoming a songwriter, running marathons, playing on a softball team, being a nanny, chasing kids or jumping around as a clown at their parties, I would surely have had the energy to do almost anything else I could have imagined.
And back then? That's what I was doing - anything I imagined.

So although I am a bit slower, my sleep a necessity that I actually care if I get, my odd jobs long gone and marathon shoes and softball cleats hanging on the wall - I take comfort in rubbing my eyes today - saying well done, you slept.

And when I wake, my view is that of - and quite literally - a majestic long set of snowy Alps in Austria.
Something I would have been far too busy to see at 29. Or even 35.

And although I am keeping my earplugs in just a little bit longer today, I can hear the past let go, the future coming at me and the present just perfectly.

Peaceful and quiet. Just the way I had always imagined.

and it goes and goes...

2008-01-22T13:31:00.000+01:00

(written January 20, 2008 @ 7:55am)

"The longer you're gone, the further you get."

That's what my good friend & fellow expat Denise (Belfast, Ireland) said to me about living abroad.

Although there was a long time where I divided my time abroad between America and England - I was never really "gone" - or so it felt.
I always knew I'd go back when the 6 or so months were up and to boot, I was touring hard and really didn't have any time to stop and think about life abroad.
And of course, making matters even easier, most of the time either speaking English in England or going in and out of foreign speaking countries. Just enough to taste it before the novelty wore off or difficulty set in.

I will be the first to admit, life, as an expat is not easy.
Spending 3 weeks back in America, with my family - is both glorious and invigorating and depressing and draining. And not in the way you would think because it has nothing to do with family. In fact, that's the invigorating part.

It's true the longer I am away, the more I see which in turns challenges everything I used to believe about my own culture. You see things through a magnifying glass and instead of reacting to them the old way - the way you were accustomed to as an American, you begin to see things with your new expat eyes. And with that, you just aren't sure how you are supposed to feel or believe anymore. Because you know you didn't just add a few years and experience to your life and change - you really changed. In fact, most of the time - you rebel against it because life is surely easier when you are not challenging everything you grew up to believe, reacting a certain way, living complacently amongst your people.
So in many ways, I don't exactly love these new eyes I have.

When Denise said this to me, we had just finished a last minute but quite wonderful gathering with my expats/locals group I started here in Innsbruck.
It was nearly 3am at this point - having moved on to our place with her husband Arno and a beautiful soul and becoming good friend, Marina, an expat from Brazil.

We stayed up late into the night having one of the most beautiful connections and conversations and of course, somewhere in all of it, talked about what it's like living abroad. How you watch your family age in very disturbing way. Because in some ways, although you are the one gone, they still see you in way they did when you left. And even though each time you return, you return changed in ways even you don't know, it's not always easy for a family to release the pecking order and see you for who you are now.
With that said, although it must sound in some ways not true, when you are away and living abroad, you actually see the people for who they become. One of the reasons I have come to realize this is the more you mingle internationally with others, adapt, learn new cultures and language - the easier it becomes for you to see others for who they are and ultimately yes, adapt to change and people in a fairly simple way.

When I go back to the states, I am realizing each time - maybe by something said or even something as little as what my family thinks I like or dislike. And not just change like a child growing inches within months or changing hobbies like clothes - but a profound inner change. The kind that suddenly gets put on warp speed the longer you are away.
The longer you are away from your people, your culture, your family - the more you do not see things the way you used to and sometimes, the way they still do. You want to come back and challenge them but with only 3 weeks a year, maybe 4 - it's a tireless and futile attempt.

So you - me, I guess after a few days I just gave up and decided I could be the same Tina they think I am. I can wear this family hat, which already, is hard enough at times. Because the weight I bare being in a foreign country, is sometimes so heavy - this is like carrying a fanny pack versus a huge hiking one. I do it.
Begrudgingly sometimes? Yes, for sure. But I do it because I really have no choice. It's the way things are.

And now, it's once again before sunrise and still, after 10 days back, I am not adjusting to the time in the way I usually do.
And I am sitting here, forced awake with the need to write these thoughts - thinking about what Denise said. "The longer you are away, the further you get."

It's a simple enough statement and one, which you read and take, at face value. It's true. But in the deeper sense - ok and admittedly, the jet-lagged one - it's so much more. And what she forgot to add is 'further they get.'
And you see this each time and it makes you sadder with each reminder or incident where it's just as plain as daylight. But you accept it because really, the only other alternative is to go ahead and go back. And even though what always kept me strong enough to leave to the next place and travel where the wind took me is telling myself 'I can always go back,' I know different. Or at least I am willing to see it now.
Because each time I have moved in my life, which have been many - when I left I knew deep down I would never be able to return. Any place would never be the same because the longer I was away, the further I did get and unfortunately, never being able to go back in time is one of the worlds cruelest jokes.

Those 3 weeks were magical, they always are. Each moment with my family was precious and even though I have to witness my parents age in a way my siblings there don't, work a little hard during even daily stuff to fight for who I have become, keep the sudden and vicious epiphanies about my old beliefs or views to myself, I know that in the end, as Denise also said, 'my (your) feet do the leaving (or something like that)
For whatever reason, I have landed myself here, even if feet first and soul later, which for me, is often the case.

And after nearly 10 days back in Austria, away from my country and my family - I can feel my soul slowly beginning to return. Weary and confused and not really sure where it belongs anymore but returning nonetheless.

Like giving advice to the young women that come after you, no one really tells you everything. How hard life really is. We all know that's probably a good thing in the end. Because if we knew that when we jumped we surely fall and end up in a cast, we'd probably never go out or worse, take crunches everywhere we went 'just in case.'

So on this too early to be awake Sunday morning, I cherish this - although admittedly rough realization - feeling of new found understanding about what is really going on here. How fast everything moves and how much time you lack to get it all done.

I let my feet do the talking for too many years and even though I am doing less of that now, it did make me the open, flexible and road-smart dame that I have become.

I have time and distance to thank for that. The longer I was gone, the further I did get and in the end, I guess that wasn't such a bad thing.

magnets

2008-01-22T13:28:00.000+01:00

(written Jan 19, 2008 @ 7:10am)

I was looking at the magnets on my fridge, just now - here in Innsbruck at not even 8am after going to bed at 4.
And it dawned on me how long it has been since I've had a fridge - to put magnets on.

When my husband and I returned from Christmas in America - we also probably as no surprise, brought back with us, two more full suitcases.

The plan was I would collect what little I had in the back room, of my childhood home. I would fill at least one suitcase, if not two, full of things like photo's of my family and friends, my little pumpkin music custom-made electric guitar, my first guitar with the signatures from songwriters I now feel I am not far behind, a few odds and ends here I managed to not sell, give away or throw out along my travels. The last of the good stuff.

But because it was his first Christmas with my family and even though we only chose one name for secret Santa - Helli was lavished with things like a pasta maker, kitchen gadgets, two different sets of very heavy poker chips with cases, a pasta maker, handmade tequila from Mexico...

And when I tried to pack our original two bags - one each, full of what we brought and this - for obvious reasons, it did not work.

So we filled two bags my mom loaned us with his Christmas goods - and that was that.

By the time we made it to my childhood home - the one in the neighborhood with the broken down car in the driveway, long gone over-grown rose bushes, a shingled roof about to collapse. The one abandoned almost three years ago after the divorce was final.
By the time we made it there, one day before our flight left, I realized rather quickly that even though some part of my tumbling ways, hobo'ing it lifestyle - for who knows how long - was coming to some sort of end - or change - I would not fulfill my small, tiny dream of and now what seems like a luxury, hanging the photo's of my past lives in America, since 16 leaving the house, on my walls.
My guitars would sit untouched and probably warping in the un-temperature controlled house - what was, is - left of it all, would not ... this time, be coming "home" with me.

So while I was looking at the magnets & few photo's & mementos I did manage to pack on my fridge, just now - at now a few minutes past 8am, after going to bed at 4am - I look at the albeit small but big reminder of who I used to be, the places I have gone and the people I have loved.

The skydiving in Phoenix, Arizona picture. The dive I took with my long-gone x-fiancé that never was to be and our friends. The jump that started the now wrecked and 3 knee surgeries knee - with the man that ruined me for all the years before my now husband found me. Being held by the first magnet I bought living in Colorado, where ultimately - oddly enough, he left me, I left me - I checked out from the world awhile.

The kind of photo's where one of you holds up an arm, and snaps. Ones with my little sister before she even had her braces off, with my nieces when they were too young to object to Auntie Tina snapping a million ridiculous pictures with that arm held out. That magnet I had completely forgot about - the one from the Body Shop saying women were not Barbie's and if we were, we wouldn't be able to walk. It was displayed prominently in my too expensive but most amazing studio apartment in Noe Valley in San Francisco. The apt, that despite having already lived many lives, in many states with many apartments - the one that made me feel all grown up. The one some day I would write a song about, "The window on 24th street."
And the last place I would really call home - with a fridge to put those magnets.

It is in this instant that I finally - in some strange way thanks to these crazy magnets, photo's and what they represent - put to rest the old ghosts, the broken promises, the trails gone cold - the ones I loved that didn't love me back.
It is in this instant that after all these years, chasing something I don't know or even why I am (was?) chasing - I put to rest the girls I used to know. The ones that took shit from men, from strangers, the road. The one that didn't want to live, that fought hard - for far too long, to die.

The me I was running from is as of now, back.
She - me - collected those stories, scars on roads that although made me who I am, will never hold me hostage ever again.

And although I sometimes still live in the past, it took those silly little fridge magnets to remind me to keep hoping for the future.

And even without my guitars and things I finally after all these years have a place for, I am the proud owner of one small fridge and a whole lotta' living.

fearless?

2008-01-22T13:27:00.000+01:00

(written January 17, 2008 @ 2:05am)

"...sometimes we depend on other people as a mirror - to define us and tell us who we are..." (my blueberry nights)

There were many times while on the road, touring as a songwriter - usually in small towns in America I just plain burned out.

And it wasn't conscious - planed or otherwise - when I used to think and sometimes say I changed my mind; I do not want any children.
Because believe me, that was something I always had in the back of my mind.
Not so much a dream but a given. Something I just knew I wanted and would be good at. And in some way, my right as a woman - one that deep any ego, I would want to exercise, someday.

So when music came into my life and ultimately, became my life - it understandably took a back burner - but on the other hand, I just wasn't thinking about it.

What started out as an uncontrollable drive to create and share - became also an uncontrollable drive to live my life for others.
You see the more I ran, the faster I went - the more I saw and the more dreams others were convinced I was following - the harder it was to kick the habit.
It became a drug of sorts. A kind of appreciation and admiration I never had before. For the first time in my life, I felt like a leader - even if not my own. 'Vicariously through me' was something I learned and although not originally a very natural feeling, one that I quickly grew accustomed to.

Next thing I knew, I found myself on trains, planes, in foreign cars driving on the wrong side of the road - sleeping in campgrounds or on couches, in airports and train stations... all the while going as fast as I could go and really never knowing how to stop or if I even wanted to. And even when I realized I did want to stop, at that point I was moving so fast and so many people were taking up space in my head, I just couldn't let them down.

So when the subject broached - which was often, where is my boyfriend, my husband - do I want children - I really took no notice and pretty much instantly, had a rebuttal and never looked back.
Somehow, somewhere out there - I left go of the very right I had - that lay back in my mind. The one I knew I would someday exercise.
Because a monkey on my shoulder, one placed not by me but by the way in which I now led my life ... and those I led it for - did that very thing and led me.

You are fearless people would say.
In their emails, letters, conversations... cheering me on.
People watching me, a girl alone with a dream - albeit not entirely mine - going so fast and doing so much that it seemed I just had to be fearless.

But the thing was, like I told my little sister recently - it's not that I was - am, fearless.
I mean in some ways, yes of course. I am. As much and sometimes I think, maybe even more than others.
What I was though was for some reason, compelled merely by the expectations of others - to continue living a fearless life as they saw it.
Perhaps some were in jobs they hated and saw no way out of. Marriages they questioned. Lives in general they too were living for others.
And so they cheered me, supported me and sometimes even gave me money to keep me on my path.
And although I love what singing my songs and singing them for others does to me (and for them) I can't deny that I spent many of the past years, not so much fearless but following expectations. Following them so long and more of, for fear I would let someone, somewhere, somehow down.
Because I know had a purpose of sorts, something I never had. And dammit if I wasn't going to throw that away. Everyone wanted one of those; it must be worth having I thought. The monkey told me so.

So I kept going and all along, knew very well I was missing out on what could possibly be another dream. Not just taking something it turned out I was good at and could finally stick to and being pushed to utilize every last morsel and moment from it. Live the dream they call it.

I am 37 now and after 8 months of marriage, to an Austrian man that did not even speak English when we met - I can say, 8 months into it, I am finally aware what it is I want. My dream and not someone else's expectations.
And although I will continue to do what I am good at and what ultimately in many ways, I love - my music. I have a new view; my eyes are opened to the possibilities of truly living fearless.

Quite possibly not doing the very things that the world at this point in my life, has come to expect from me.

Could it be my clock - could it be my fear of my clock? Could it merely be that it took blazing those trails and living through what turned out to be others fears - that brought me to where I am now?

Ready and completely at peace with the idea of quieting down - paving over the roads I once traveled leaving no more trails to retrace my steps?
Not watching nor listening - and at best, feeling compelled to make decisions based on the expectations of my family, friends fans, readers. No longer keeping them at the seat of their pants - wondering what I will do next, living ... vicariously through me.

Could it be that the original vision I had - on a specific day so many years ago, overlooking the Pacific ocean after a run - could it be that is the dream I for so long did not slow down long enough or stop listening to others unlived lives long enough - to see?
Love in my life, things I love to do, my family, being kind to others, living true?
And in the end, before it's too late - having a family of my own.

That, for me - ultimately, is fearless.
Because if it were up to the girl I knew 10 years ago, even a year ago - I wouldn't even consider upsetting the space of things, the ideas in the heads of those that cheer me - by admitting that maybe, just maybe blazing a trail fearlessly is not for me anymore. That maybe I don't care what conclusion they come to - what they might say about what I do, where I end up. Maybe even stop living vicariously through me. God forbid.

In the end - and there will be one - it is my life and my life alone. I answer only to myself and no matter how fast the world continues to spin and how many people think they know best - the truth is it's our one life, our one chance to do it our way. Sometimes it just takes years to figure that out.
I for one am grateful I saw anything, regardless of how long it took to get there.

So if it's one thing I can leave you with, it's be fearless. I mean, really ... fearless.

the storm comes just the same...

2008-01-22T13:25:00.000+01:00

(written January 10, 2008 @ 1:00am)

Even if the timing was right, I don't think I could go back.

Some days it's an adventure, other days it feels like some kind of experiment -
or just the way things are.

It's only 1am, my first day back.
I slept from an hour past the time we arrived yesterday and this very minute.
Jet lag is a funny a thing - so I guess I am awake again until god knows when.

And even though I have barely stepped foot back in our house, the heavy feeling of life as an expat in Austria - for me - is the one thing that has already landed.
Although my mind and heart are still cozy and warm with my niece Maya on the couch or sitting up late watching movies with my mom, somewhere in this sleepy body there is full understanding it's time to return.

I am so zoned out. After a harrowing 3 long flights with 4 overweight bags, major delays, a not so great long haul to Paris and a bag (suspected bomb) being blown up in the Paris airport while we were there - I am sitting upright in my own bed, with my own covers still wondering how 3 weeks flew so fast and I am back to life in Europe.

Every year heading out for my 6+ months touring and living in England, I would leave the earliest say, May. Sometimes April but usually May was the soonest. So it feels completely unnatural to say the least, that's it's only January and I am back on foreign soil.
The longer I live here - fly out and return, the weirder it gets living abroad.
And even though I have technically been living abroad almost 5 years now, having bought a place and gotten married & being officially in a foreign-speaking country, has made it seem more permanent then ever.

Each time I return to the US or vice versa, I notice more and more things about life in America, life in Europe and myself than I ever imagined. Changes have taken place in both parts of the country that I see so much clearer now. Some things have stayed that same but the way I see them and how they, it or whatever that is affects me, is almost a full 360 degree turn.
Consumerism in America. Drivers and roads, personalities and peoples need to connect, wearing their loneliness on their faces so prominently there is just no way I can miss it, ignore it. That last remark? I am talking about watching the faces in America. I know that's a worldwide statement but I feel the 'coming at me' for it so much more in my homeland.

And because it's the middle of the night and I only went from the airport, to the autobahn to bed, I can't pin down what I see and feel about Austria at this exact moment - but I can tell you the longer I am permanently away (as in not just leaving knowing I will go back and live half the year in the US or for however long) the harder it gets both returning and imagining life in America again - and on the opposite end, coming back home to Europe where my life is now being lived, full-time and imagining never living in America again also throws me off. I feel like I don't have a country or a home - even though home is clearly here in Innsbruck.

When I go back to America, I don't feel home anymore. When I come back to Europe I know I am supposed to but I still question it. And even though I have both traveled far and lived in many different states in America, the things I am seeing and learning now as an expat, are incomparable.

Life as an expat is lived in so many strange stages. And when you are not just passing through as an 8-month student, a tourist or even a half a year resident as I was in England, it can all be such a huge confusing adventure and as I said before, experiment. Some days I am living in the adventure mode and am completely happy to be learning German, acclimating to the Austrians and lifestyle here. Other days, it feels like I'm in a living thesis, just hunting and gathering information, sounds and photos in my mind for later use. And as a songwriter and writer, I suppose that makes sense and it's just what I am doing and have always been doing - but at the end of the day, at times, that is what keeps my homesickness for my family and old life in the US at bay. Knowing I as my mom always says about writing, am just hunting and gathering for the big storm.

And isn't that what we are all doing anyway? What you do with your goods is up to you and who you are.

The storm comes just the same.

Bird watching??

2008-01-22T13:24:00.000+01:00

(written January 19, 2008 @ 1:57am)

Are you kidding me?

All I have to say is - thank GAWD my running children's party days are over!

Find more videos on www.findinternettv.com.

nirvana ... and not the music कंद

2008-01-22T13:22:00.000+01:00

(written January 17, 2008 @ 10:40pm)

As I sit here smelling onions and garlic waffling throughout the flat, I wonder if the
smell is more enticing than the sit down.

Don't get me wrong, eating is one swell, finely established past-time.
But I'd be lying if my favorite part of each evening, isn't smelling my husbands lovely aromas floating
in and out, around and about, the kitchen, the hallway, the bedrooms, the living room....
And tonight, although I am a bit stuffed up in the nose department - despite such tragedy,
it still comes through loud and clear. *yum*

So albeit brief - a note to all the cooks in the world out there...
We love tasting your food, feeling it in our fingers if it's the right kind, twirling it in our forks
and scooping it with our spoons ... but please remember to slow cook those onions, keep the
wine flowing and turn the music up just a little bit louder.

I promise an even nicer desert will follow.

meanwhile back in Austria...

2008-01-22T13:21:00.000+01:00

(written January 16, 2008 @ 14:34)

Perhaps going shopping, with my bike - one bag and a huge appetite wasn't such a great idea after all.

Of course, it would have helped if I passed the huge bag of almonds and the rice, the apples and the oranges and would have thought for even just a second - exactly how much does this stuff weigh?

Nope.
Like any good shopper will attest to - being reasonable, practical and right brained (or is it left?) will not help you in such situations.
Your tummy is growling and everything - absolutely everything around you looks scrumptious, delicious and exactly what the doctor ordered.

And of course, after my what should have been my ten minute trip to the supermarket - turned into one long hour as I squinted and guessed, hoped and took a gamble - that it really was almond flour and not corn, rice and not well, who knows.

And when it turned out after everything was rung up they didn't take ATM's ... and I hiked it to the bank to with drawl the cash - ahead of me still, awaited the daunting and extremely scary task of getting every last morsel into my itty bitty backpack.

After a harrowing display my fellow shoppers happily scoffed at and crafty I must say packing job of 30 kilos at the very least, of goods - I made my way out. And although my back instantly hurt, my shoulders about to break and my balance just a little bit off - I triumphantly headed for my bike.

...only to find a flat tire.

... ooh but so worth the trouble... ;

whiskey thoughts...

2008-01-22T13:15:00.000+01:00

(written Dec. 7, 2007 @ 16:34)
I was in the green room in Vienna, Austria - after a show when I wrote Whiskey Night. That was 2004.

I'm not sure what the connection to whiskey and Austria is - but after having a nice dinner at my friend Lucia's last night, she brought out a bottle of Scotch.

When I left, she said she doesn't really drink Scotch and for me to take it home. *arm pull, arm pull *struggle* *struggle* .. gave in.

Uh-oh.

You see, I gave up whiskey drinking - ok, heavy whiskey drinking after the time I realized while giving an annual songwriting workshop in a small town in Louisiana - that I had maybe just a wee bit too much and searching through the night - in my pajamas, by foot - for fried chicken maybe wasn't such a great idea.

So it wasn't so much a surprise to me that when I got home last night, I had a stare down contest with.
It won and I drank some.

2 or so hours later and I have 4 songs about; whiskey, gold miners, more whiskey and a mountain man in a cabin, drinking whiskey. Yeah, I know.
Something about whiskey brings out this geeeeetar-pickin', foot-stompin, porch-sittin' girl in me. Um.

Today, as I pay for my sins, I remembered Whiskey Night and writing it some years back in Vienna.
So, yeah - I'm not sure what the connection is but honestly, I thought since it was on a tour in Ireland that I REALLY discovered the stuff (Bushmills if you must know, I mean - it is Christmas after all:-) it would be somewhere on those roads I let it go - or perhaps pulled out the notebook and geeetar and went at it.

Now it's off to drink Glühwein & watch the Krampus show with good friends at the Christkindlmarkt. Ok, maybe I will watch THEM drink.
Anyway, don't get me started on Glühwein.

Your whiskey thoughts to start off the weekend.

Advice for the day; Drink it sloooow.

Dear Mr. President...

2007-12-04T04:47:00.000+01:00

I know it's 7am and I haven't gone to bed yet. I know I have to be up in a matter of hours for well, life. But well - I finally after much wasted time, managed to convert a PAL video from a house concert in Freiburg, Germany all the way back in 2004!

There is some fun footage farting around with my hosts and now good friends Regina and Thomas (I'll post that later) but for now, I managed to get the PAL converted to Mp4 and edit out this song - then make it small enough to get on YouTube and... well...

When a girl comes back to life - she comes full circle.
Even though I looked terrible in this video - hearing this song when it was in the early stages of both the song and the war, not only reminds me of what's important in the world but my life. I am back on the folk train - folks...look out!

* I wrote this song the day the war started - while hearing the war broke out on NPR. I was on tour just outside of Dallas, Texas *ehem* and pulled over on the George W. Bush expressway to write this.
I wasn't playing it in the US after being kicked out of a Border's Books & Music after singing it right when the war started - literally DAYS after. Wounds were fresh in Oklahoma and most of their boys were off to war - so I don't blame them I guess. Anyway, I have forgiven the beautiful folks of Oklahoma. Because after that show - I will admit I hardly played it anymore for fear of not selling CD's and be able to buy, well - you know, food.
Then while touring Europe and after some encouragement at a show in Cambridge, England, I sang it receiving a standing ovation & amazing response. I have you to thank for that John (John Meed - look him up, he's an amazing songwriter, good friend and beautiful soul) - thanks. You literally made me play it and from then on, it's been my closing song. I'm not afraid anymore...

Bush & Neil Young...

2007-12-02T23:56:00.001+01:00

I wrote my song, "Dear Mr. President" while touring through Texas - on the George W. Bush expressway outside of Dallas, Texas - the day the war officially started. When they announced it on NPR, I pulled over and wrote this song.

I just found it somehow, someway ended up on Neil Young's site at at 200 on the "Living with War" charts (out of 3,000+ I think) so that's pretty neat. Although I admit the live recording of it doesn't exactly translate well - i.e the sound quality is terrible!

Nonetheless...cooooool. I love you Neil.
Here is the link:
http://www.neilyoung.com/lwwtoday/lwwsongspage.html

love,
Chris
p.s While googling myself tonight, I came my song (a live version) being played during this video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ShBiyhxWsk

lattes & garbage...

2007-12-02T23:55:00.001+01:00

After a long beautiful day bobsledding with wonderful friends - I sit here at my computer trying to prioritize my life - my expat group, dibby out my career tasks - booking, publicity etc...

And whatta' ya' know - I come aross this - an article from a freelance writer in Austin, Texas I did side work for while I was living in Austin. Ahhhh side work. Sounds kind of naughty doesn't it?

As you my friends know, I have done everything from raising huskies in Alaska, fueling airplanes in Arizona to other goofy jobs like being a clown and having a dog-walking business.
So I guess this article is probably no surprise at all to you. But for me - to come across it while living in Europe, doing my music for a living and thinkin about "delegating" things in my life to make it easier - it was quite a hoot to find on google.

This appeared in American Airlines magazines. You know, those annoying magazines in the seat in front of you - you resort to reading because you didn't want to spend $5 on one in the shop.
Yes I know, my life is very glamarous. lol.
Although I have to say, getting a call from a best friend from my past that has since re-connected us - saying she read about me on the plane and was floored, was a nice little "side" effect.

Read down for the grub:

http://www.americanwaymag.com/aw/Lifestyle/feature.asp?archive_date=4/1/2006
Happy holidays from Christene & Helli... -

Thanksgiving...

2007-11-22T19:45:00.000+01:00

Here I am, yet again - abroad and far from America on Thanksgiving. *sigh*

I can't say I am terribly homesick for it but that is only because I have grown accustomed to Thanksgiving and every other holiday (except Christmas) away from my family for many years
now.

Last year I spent Thanksgiving touring England - and before my show that night, had a chicken wrap from KFC. Exciting I know. :)

In any case, next year I will be hosting a big, fat Thanksgiving to introduce my Tyrolean and International friends that don't celebrate, to the food portion of the tradition.

But this year - this year is going to spent with friends, tonight - in a matter of minutes actually, down at the Christkindmarkts...i.e Christmas Markets.

Helli and I went down last night for the first time and were completely blown away how much further they went with it this year. It seems this awesome tradition only gets better, more organized and more spectacular as each year passes. yay!

Here is a link if you'd like to see what it's like and looks like here in Innsbruck during my absolute favorite time of year here. Honestly, when winter comes and we browse the markets, drinking Glühwein and eating roasted chestnuts, I have not one ounce of homesickness or regreat for living here. :) I hope someday you my friends, will be able to join us in December for this magical time.

http://www.christkindlmarkt.cc/

In the spirit of feasting everywhere - Happy Turkey Day my beautiful friends. I love you.

love,
Chris

p.s On that note, tomorrow - I am hosting a big South Tyrolean traditional dinner called Törggelen! I have invited good friends and new friends (some becoming good:) from my Innsbruck Expats group I started. It's a full house and should be great. It will replace my Thanksgiving as the feast is just as large, if not larger! :) Here is link to the restaurant where you can find the link to see the crazy menu & also a link about what exactly Törggelen is.

Restaurant: http://www.buzihuette.at

What is Törggelen?: http://www.suedtirolerland.it/suedtirol/siteSLenSLe2wSLarticle.phpQMQidEQQ4787NNDcategory_idEQQ138.html

"Arnold" the Incomparable- written Nov. 20, 2007

2007-11-22T19:43:00.000+01:00

Ok - this is just too funny! While shopping at our local supermarket a few month back, we saw this. We passed on buying it - figuring a euro was too much. Boy was I wrong! The fun factor alone is worth the box. Ah well. Danke to our Oregon and Italian friends David and Ilenia (by way of Oregon, Padova, Italy and now here in Innsbruck) for buying it and posting this photo and text... Enjoy!

Apparently, someone has decided to use Arnold Schwarzeneggers's image to sell Austrian apples for a Euro a piece. On the side, they write:

Healthy and Strong

"Arnold" the Incomparable

This apple grows and ripens at the foot of the Austrian Alps in Styria with the fertile soil and unique microclimate of warm days and cool nights. Lovingly tended by skilled and dedicated fruit growers in their small and medium sized orchards it is a rich natural source of health, strength and flavor.

Ramblings ... Written Nov. 16, 2007

2007-11-22T19:40:00.000+01:00

Hallo!

Greetings from snowy but lovely Innsbruck, Austria!

I just wanted to update everyone...
I know it's been sometime. Danke for being so patient and sending such sweet emails. It means so much to me. <3

The new CD is FINALLY (I swear, you can mark my word!:-) coming in the New Year - along with "Tumbleweed... the live album" and a live DVD of a sold-out Theatre show in Scotland in Nov. 2006!

I will at some point before my touring madness begins, be launching a new web site - as well as new merchandise; pins, t-shirts, you name it. :)

Life is beginning to make sense again for me - after quite some time of unfortunate and always unexpected health issues.

I apologize deeply for the continuous cancelations of shows this past summer/fall - and promise to make it up to you with both new songs and stories and CD's you will hopefully keep on repeat!

Life in Austria is amazing and slowly, I am beginning to acclimate and adjust.
I am in German school now and can have a reasonably good converstion which definitely helps in making this home! :)

I don't know if you know - but I actually got married this past April. <3
It's pretty common here to have 2 weddings though - so the BIG official wedding isn't taking place until July 5, 2008!

Between that, new touring schedules, CD's and merchandise, web sites, family - holidays, travels, home remodeling and my Innsbruck Expats group, I am keeping well and happily busy!

While going through my mac and deleting old emails, answering the backed up email (sorry) waiting forever etc.. I came across so many journals I never posted. I thought about saving them to include in my book but instead, I will begin to post a select few of them in the next few days.
It was intersting, sometimes bittersweet, to read some - dated back over a year ago before Helli (my husband) even entered the picture. Wow, life sure moves fast.

I hope you are keeping well and loving life & those close to you. It's so precious & beautiful.

with so much gratitude and love,
Chris

sausage, mustard, sauerkraut, beer, fall, people & ehem people magazine

2007-09-23T17:24:00.000+02:00

So you might be wondering - what the heck kind of title is that?

Well - I haven't been able to do my usual storytelling, online journaling, rambling, lately - as I have admittedly been completely and utterlly wrapped up in the pyschi of some certain people *ehem* gone from my life.

I don't know if I told you - but I started, designed and run a group and website called http://www.InnsbruckExpats.com

I started it back in March on meetup.com and from there, it just kind of took on a life of it's own - and has since moved into it's own space on the web and continues to attract members and grow in activities I organize etc...

What started out as a way to make friends in a town I was otherwise feeling a stranger in (unless you count the family of my husband - which are WONDERFUL - but not the same) has now become an outlet for others doing the same, socially-challenged people, people not challenged at all that are just looking for another social outlet etc...

Now it sounds fine & dandy and for the most part - being the spazz I am online with websites, graphics, networking etc... and offline organizing events and bringing people together, it really is.

But *ehem* I can't say doing something like this, in Europe, with people that are not in their element, does come with a very hefty price & not without it's list of problems.

Granted, I started this to make friends - but since, funny enough, have made my best ones off the group.

So this brings me smack dab into what is going on.

A certain member - when I said I was going to begin implementing new policies to my group - took what I wrote (which was not personal) very, very personal and has begun what seemed to be an attempt at destroying a group and website that had since, really been continuing on for people LIKE HIM. Because he socially could not mingle well, was not an easy person to get along with - but seemed like he had a good heart and just needed a push.

He has spent the better part of this week, behind the keys - like some kind of evil mastermind - threatening to send out personal chats and emails I had with him to each member seperately. Posting long rants against me about what a bad person I am and "bitchy dictator." According to him, I was/am trying to dictate and control the group and it's members from a queens chair. *ehem*
Well ok, if the shoe fits - kidding, kidding.

But seriously.
You can stop reading here if you'd like.
Really this is just me getting out what was one of the heaviest weeks yet in my personal relations with people here in Innsbruck.

This said person I might add, is an American - raised in America but has an Austrian mom.

I don't want to pick any fights here but it seems each time I get a new problem or get harassed by someone here, it's an American male or sometimes in general, expat.
I promise I am not judging and pointing fingers - but I really am beginning to wonder and worry here. I don't have anything like this with my Austrian comrades.

Because of the evil doings of this man, my already in a sad state gut, digestion & colon (sorry) have been on overdrive and rendered me almost useless to attend german, train to teach english, write new songs, plot my next tour and trip to Austin to finish the record... Really, I have been a non-stop emailing, website private-making, deleting, defending pro.
How sad is that?
Pretty sad I know.

So after I finally stopped reeling and steaming from all of this, I took a good look at my personal myspace page - and realized there was a certain person lurking around, that I had let back in my life from long ago.
I was so revved up from this American boy that I just went and deleted her. And as of today, after receiving HER rant, I guess that deletion didn't go without some more ranting and emailing and deleting... *sigh* man, I'm tired.

Really - weeding them out, although as painful or even more so as say - a kidney stone(?) was necessary, I am now sitting here wondering what the hell is going on that these people have managed to distract my otherwise happy disposition and replace it with stress that has literally given me two new big fat lines between my eyebrows.

So last night when my husband declared Octerfest eating officially beginning - and suggested we get traditional Octoberfest white sausages, spicey mustard, warm pretzels and schnapps - although I knew my gut would literally be in shock and possibly shut down because of it - I felt god dammit, I at least earned that, right?

We filled up our cart, threw in some beer for good measure - because I don't get that anymore either - and as real treat, to remind myself I am not as bad off as some - I picked up what is one of the very few imported American magazines around - People. At €5.30 I am going to go on a limb and say it was worth every penny - all in US dollars $7.50 worth.

And believe it or not, catching up on Britney's lastest custody battle, Angelina's rumored split from Brad, the woes of Hollywood's anorexic and the passing of Merv Griffin - I felt a strange but beautiful sense of peace.

For all the antagonistic f*****s out there - waiting to twist someones colon into a tight rope, tonight I can rest easy.

Tonight, I can bury my taste buds in sauerkraut and render my brain useless of all of 20 minutes while I leave no stone unturned, reading the magazine back to back - page to page, eye and ponder every nook and cranny - missing nothing.

Tonight I can celebrate the passing of these toxic souls in and out of my life. Octoberfest and Fall in Austria.
And yes, really celebrate at least I didn't freak out enough to shave my head or lose 50 kilos.

Not yet anyway.

Ich heiße Christene

2007-09-17T23:39:00.000+02:00

Hallo, guten abend!

Ich heiße Christene.
Ich komme aus America und arbeite in Europa.
Ich wohne in Austria.
This is obviously the easy stuff - so I'll stop there on that.

But let me rant - just a bit (bitte?) about the feminine/masculine/neutral
aspects of the language... *cough, cough*

You probably know - but just in case, let me have some fun here...

I found out the other day, that banana is feminine... can I be very obvious
here? Shouldn't this be masculine?

And who exactly decided that the kuche & waschmaschene were going to be
feminine? My mann does the cooking by the way, not the Frau
as this might suggest. OK - I do the laundry but come on.

And why is the fernseher (tv) neutral? Shouldn't that at least be masculine?
I mean - wouldn't we all agree here?

I started a class last month - quickly figured out it was NOT working when my
teacher asked me during a break if I found jesus yet.
When I told her I was Buddhist, I was informed I would forever be unlucky as
a Buddhist and life would not be good until I found him - jesus I mean.

So that took care of that.
And really, as much as I liked my Turkish comrade, speaking after him was never a
fun task as he spoke with very low, closed lips, blurred all his speech turkish or
german and seemed to be in some kind of competition for teacher attention.

When I found out Ulrika, a Romanian nun I figured out was largely keeping me there,
was being advanced to the next class,
I left defeated and wondering if I would ever care to learn the language of my
mann, my new home and a place I am coming to leibe.

Then as luck would have it, this week I began a new course with Isabella and one
other student, Shane from Australia.
One would think all this english-speaking would stunt my german language studies
but it's fortunately, been the exact opposite.

Only 4 lessons - going on 5 by Friday - and Isabella has caught us both up to the
intermediate class.
We'll be joining the new group starting Monday - and sadly, saying goodbye to our
spunky Italian/Austrian and British teacher.

I've been able to have a good laugh with both Shane and Isabella about all this
masculine/feminine stuff and most of the time, we break out into speaking german
on our own accord.
I finally stopped mixing english, spanish and german and actually think by the
wedding, I'll be able to really communicate with everyone - without asking for helfen
or cringing as they quickly revert to english to save me embarassment.

I'm having fun building sentences and speaking any chance I get - ordering, shopping,
asking and sharing whatever german I can. Really, most of the time I think I come
across OK and actually say or ask what I mean... but sometimes, I am guessing
I am telling them their hair looks like shit, their sister is a prostitute and I never
want to talk to them again.

booooogers

2007-09-12T16:27:00.000+02:00

Credit my good friend and fellow Innsbruck Expat
David Welton for this one;

What can I say... I never new such groundbreaking research was going
on right here in Innsbruck:

http://in.news.yahoo.com/040411/139/2ci0w.html

David & Jean...

2007-09-12T14:41:00.000+02:00

And I thought I "lived" in hotels... geesh;

A British couple have shacked up in a budget roadside motel for more than 20 years because they love never having to do the laundry or cooking, they said Tuesday.

David Davidson, 79, and his wife, Jean, 70, first tried out a Travelodge hotel while visiting a sick aunt in 1985 -- and were instantly hooked.

Their room -- near Grantham, east central England off the A1 trunk road from London to Edinburgh -- overlooks a car park, but is also within sight of a slip road that trucks rumble down day and night, jazzing up the view.

"We get great rates because we book well in advance and we even have our own personal housekeeper. All our bed linen is laundered, too. It doesn't get much better than that, does it?" said former Royal Navy sailor David Davidson.

The couple have spent around 100,000 pounds (200,000 dollars, 150,000 euros) renting rooms which cost them as little as 15 pounds (30 dollars, 22 euros) a night.

The motel is renaming their room The Davidsons' Suite and mounting a plaque in the reception to mark their 10-year anniversary.

The couple, who initially lived in a Travelodge in nearby Newark before moving in 1997, have kept their old flat in Sheffield, northern England, and return every fortnight to collect the post.

The Davidsons exchange Christmas presents with the staff, dine out at a roadside eaterie across the car park and watch the traffic go by.

"There is always something outside our window. Our room looks out to the car park and a busy slip road where lorries pass through the night," David Davidson said.

"We do have to be a bit choosy about what we keep in our room as it can fill up easily."

His wife added: "We don't get hit with huge heating bills over the winter and its safer than a lot of places these days."

The couple do go for trips abroad -- but stay in a Travelodge.

"Some will think David and Jean Davidson bonkers to have spent the last 22 years living in a hotel," said the Daily Express in its editorial.

But their room rates are "not more than many people's mortgage payments, the housework is done for them and they do not pay utility bills. What's not to like?"

And you can even book a room at their hotel. Perhaps on my next tour I'll do this just for the heck of it - and then I will take photo's and send you journals. Ooh, exciting. http://travel.yahoo.com/p-hotel-392599-travelodge-i

the Q gene

2007-09-06T03:58:00.000+02:00

Don’t get me wrong - I love the cold. I mean, really love the cold.

But loving the cold and longing for the cold - well, are two very different things. At least in August.

Waking up to see snow capped alps outside my window - while beautiful, is not exactly what you are hoping for at the end of August.
I realize the Fall isn’t all that far away - but if it’s one thing I clearly remember about life in San Francisco, it was the warm and sometimes hot Septembers.

Ok - I know. I can’t even begin to compare the two.

But when you are living life against everything you know, you are searching - however small and meaningless - for the slightest similarity. Nostalgia is the strongest tool in the fight against homesickness.
Sometimes, all it takes is a trip down memory lane by way of a smell or sight, a word someone spoke, to snap me out of it and get on with life in another country. It’s really hard sometimes.
And let’s face it, snow capped alps don’t exactly cut the mustard in the way of similarities to California.

They say familiarity breeds contempt. Probably.
Ok - yeah. When you’re living in it, it’s an entirely different beast. Yet another kind - unlike the homesickness one - to contend with.

When I lived at the Grand Canyon - I kid you not when I tell you I used to call it “the pit.” Seriously.
I know, sad huh?
Seeing it everyday, after a while, was like second nature - so to speak... i.e not so exciting after seeing it the hundreth time.
Luckily, I hiked to the bottom, camped and came back up - at least once, before leaving the pit.

Perhaps that is the secret - or more like drive - to the eternal wanderer, journey-seeking, modern day hobo, globe-trotting, itchy-footed traveler. Familiarity I mean.

Perhaps we are trying not to be full of contempt.

Although, admittedly I am not sure why exploring your surroundings is breeding contempt.
I suppose it’s like a lover you never expect to leave - you just get used to it after awhile - it’s familiar.

Maybe that is why I have never been one to stay long, bury my feet and plant myself.

Really?
I have absolutely no idea what is in my blood and my fellow tumbling comrades that keeps us on the road, on the trails and running like hell down paths we aren’t even sure why we took in the first place.
And even when we do stop - we are plotting, planning, skeeming and scheduling our next take-off.

Someone told me last year in England, after a show, he had heard that morning on BBC there was a study that said they found a gene “travelerers”universally possess.
I’m not so sure how they discovered this one or exactly who got tested (where do I apply? Does it include a round trip ticket?) but it sounds good to me.

I think it was called, the Q gene. Or something.

Anyway, what began as a gripe about the weather then a foray into homesickness - has ended up, as usual - nowhere.

But one thing is for sure - I aint’ stickin’ around to find out what will come out next.
My Q gene, or something, tells me it’s time to get moving before this cold paralyzes me and keeps me glued to this computer forever.

wine and women

2007-09-06T00:34:00.000+02:00

I have joined yet another website (which you all know about I'm sure) flickr - and in the process, discovered the whole world of photo blogs and groups.

This is great but can I cry uncle yet?

I am curious, how many websites do you all have? Including ones you design and ones you join i.e myspace, facebook, flickr etc... because even those to some extent require upkeep and designing.. yikes.
I have, if you really include everything - 10 I design and run (most for my music - I'm a songwriter) and about 30-40 in all I am on, do html on, add blogs blah blah blah... :)

The link to his flickr acct. is under the links portion of this blog. I highly recommend you visit him and his photo's.
This is the photo I took last week he included in his wine and women photo essay;

"he can see me..."

2007-09-05T02:25:00.000+02:00

I received an email from Austin, Texas today.

Reminding me of a life I have all but gotten over - well...
Anyway, they asked me about Henry - a blind man I had worked
for and become friends with, just after Katrina.

So in honor of that email and the Katrina Anniversary
and my town of Austin, Texas I miss so dearly - I am reposting
this journal.

Austin, Texas

Wednesday, October 12th, 2005
12:55 am
"he can see me..."

It began as an errand ... a quick needed buck.

Drive to Houston, pick up two musicians, drive them back to Austin.
Easy.

I try my best to close my eyes tight and sleep soundly
straight through the morning.
It's 4am.

I knew I had to wake by 6am if I planned to meet the
10:47am flight from Chicago.

They were Leslie Sims and Joseph Carter.
Two displaced New Orleans musicians, now scattered about the
United States, making their way to Texas for a special DVD/CD
to benefit hurricane katrina victims.

After meeting Leslie at the airport ... by way of cell phone,
we tried for almost an hour to connect with the other musician,
Joseph - who now, after losing his entire home and life as he knew
it in New Orleans, is with his family starting over in the suburbs of Houston.

After what seemed like forever, and a drive past more neon fast food
signs and construction than I care to admit to the world, we found
each other.

We were on our way to my new home and for Leslie and Joseph, a short
pit stop in an already long, long journey toward the unknown.

After a brief stop for burgers, sodas and gum, I managed to lose myself
in thought, conversation and music and drive past the turn off from
Brenham to Austin and continue heading not toward Austin but North.

Fortunately, it only took a half an hour or so of realizing 36 was the
WRONG highway and managed to stumble rather quickly on a short cut to 21
and head toward Bastrop via Austin, on get right back on track.

We made it to the studio with a few minutes to spare.

By then, we had become familiar with one another and in the end,
me a bonified, informed and now completely overwhelmed NOLA
(New Orleans) cheerleader.

The studio was full with all the greats from NOLA.
Sitting on leather couches, with bottled water, hats pulled below
the eye brow, dark glasses worn without a hint of coolness.
Assistants and producers, a documentarian and an intern - all
with smiles, all in synch and all there for the same reason ...
to make music.

I was welcomed beyond what I could ever imagine and hours later,
found myself the driver picking up the late BarbQ dinner from Austin's
finest BarbQ, Artz Rib House.

I became familiar with cell phone rings for everyone and knew immediately
when I heard the Rolling Stones it meant Ivan Neville was being called.

And when it came time to lay down the hand clapping, Ivan talked me
into joining, only to jokingly convince me I was in better time than
him.
As the camera circled, I spent more and more time, staring at the
clapper next to me, praying I wouldn't be the one to lose the beat,
slam the last hand clap out of time.

I had to pinch myself, literally, over and over to see that I was not
only amongst the greatest in music but what I found quickly to be the
greatest spirits I have ever been lucky enough to find and to find me ...
It was a feeling similar only to my time with the Willie Nelson Family.
Pure, 100% uncomplicated, unpretentious love.

Henry wore dark black ray bans, much like the ones Ray Charles wore
and with a walking cane and more importantly, confidence, determination and
a smile, he filled the space bigger than anyone else within a mile radius.

His laugh was deep and when you felt it coming, it resonated in anyone
and everyone nearby ... in slow increments of one-one thousands, two-one
thousand...

He moved his hands in front of him and excused his way across the room.

"Chris, can I talk to you?"

"Of course!"

"Listen, I was wondering what you are up to this week. Do you have a
pretty flexible schedule?"

"Definitely ... what's up Henry?"

"I'd really love for you to be my assistant while I am here."

"I'd love to Henry!"

"How about we start tomorrow, Sunday?"

"Great, what time?"

"9:00?"

"OK."

So 9:00am Sunday at the Omni it was.

We started the morning with coffee and scones and I began by
answering email and typing FEMA documents.

I thought I would be okay. I thought, 'I'm working, this is work,
this is just something you have to do for Henry Chris ...'
But as time went on, and paperwork read, "total loss," "new start"
"FEMA," "insurance," "relocation" and "loans" I began a pattern
of coming and going little, secret cries.

Henry was strong and outspoken, handsome and sure of himself.

We spent the following days, with our coffee and uncommon lives,
me, typing away as Henry dictated letters, Henry.. pacing the hotel
floors with his triple espresso in a 16-ounce cup of dark roast,
giggling in between sentences.

And when it came time to run errands, Henry held my shoulder with
one hand and his cane in the other.

As the valet pulled up my Ford "Exploder," I laughed and told Henry
my car was really a limousine in disguise.

We talked about his 56 years, his new start away from
life in New Orleans search for a new state to call his home ...
his music and his luck (or lack thereof) with women.

We spoke in awe of our accidental happiness in stumbling upon
one another in such a great big world.
He tells me the universe brought me to him.

I have another secret cry.

I can't even see myself because the entire hotel room is still dark.
As if, someone was still sleeping the day away.
There is no need for Henry to open curtains and turn on lights
and for a moment, I too, forget and linger in total darkness.

There is a strange freedom in hanging out with someone you know
can't see the outside you. The dirty hair, ragged clothes and
now, new laugh lines that seemed to come from nowhere.

He says he can hear I am strong.
He tells me he can hear when I smile and when I frown.
He asks me if I am okay when I change positions in my seat.

He says my heart if full and lovely and not to change a thing.

An they keep telling me Henry is blind ... he can't see.

But I know the truth because he can see me.

realization? observation?

2007-08-30T16:53:00.000+02:00

I realize living abroad usually means you have some
realizations about yourself or the new place you are living.

And I suppose this can be one of them... realizations about
yourself I mean.

Because where I am about to go, gave me a peak into a new
way of thinking I had NO idea I would embark on.

And this is american men.

As some of you know, my husband is from a small village
in a region called Tirol, in the Austrian alps.

I'm not going to getting all cake icy here and say I knew the
minute I saw him, it was love at first sight...or even that I knew
the day I walked down the isle it would last forever.

But I did know one very important thing.
He is by far the sweetest, kindest man with the biggest heart
of anyone I have met, man or woman really.
And that was enough. As it should be.

However... yes, there is one of those.
I won't lie and say I didn't mourn (even if just a little bit) my
now 'off the market' self and lifestyle.
Um, not that it was so active before Helli anyway...
but just the thought that I was going off the radar, left me
with a nostalgia I knew looking at an old photo or googling
an old boyfriend couldn't fix.

And then I started to run into a certain kind of American man
in Europe.

Mind you, there are all sorts of men...people, from around the
world..of course, I know this.
But that certain kind of American man I am speaking of is the
one you want hit the boob bars with, a mans man.
But so much so that you wonder what goes on behind closed
doors.

But how on earth this kind of man ended up in Europe, is beginning
to bewilder me.

I realize this isn't the most politically correct topic or how I am
presenting it and I am prepared to take the heat. Even though, ehem,
this is my blog.

But I just had to say, get it off my chest, lay it all out if you will.

This man I am speaking of was in my presence tonight (names
will be withheld) and albeit in the military, at first glance, not
what I expected.
He was quite small really, shorter than me.

The thing is, he had a nice, long tirade about immigrants and
how much he loved Bush and...well do I need to go on? I mean
really?

Ok, I will.

And he held onto his wife (local Austrian girl - quiet) pretty tight
I might add, just as he drank his third beer in the first half
an hour.
The minute he started talking, from the get go and as the night
progressed and he ranted, interrupted, talked over, ignored, proved
aggressive points he clearly did not need to prove, I realized
how hard this man just made it for me to hang with American men
while I am in Austria.

Don't get me wrong, I have some good American (as well as many
other cultures) friends here. Men, women. And all over the world
of course.
But this certain kind of male, I guess...I just wasn't expecting 'him'
to pop up on my Austrian screen. You know?

I suppose I have been acclimating (without even realizing it)
to the slower-easy paced European lifestyle.
And along with that -although admittingly not always easy
'life as an expat' - the sensitive and calm nature of the European man.
At least the Austrian man.

I am already so far gone in this rant, so I'll leave it up to your
imagination what I would...could and want to say next about
this very buffed, loud, arrogant person.

I almost never rant, especially in my journals.
I like to keep away from negativity...especially 'the geared to anyone'
else kind.

But seriously, if I don't stop running into this kind of man here, I
think I will start looking at my brothers funny next time I go back
to America.

This guy is representing American men here and it's really just
downright frightening.

Admittingly, it is changing my impression of men from my own
country and this can't be a good thing.

Like I said earlier, realizations.
One, I realize not all men are like this man.
And of course, American men.

But two and last realization? Even so. Just running into enough of
them while abroad (and not having all that much to compare them
to these days) gives me a new appreciation for my sweet, humble Austrian
with nothing to prove.

If only he could have stood up for me just a bit more though.
That's about it.

I wouldn't trade my man for anyone and I love him deeply for the sensitive
man he is but if it didn't cross my mind, I'd be full of..well, you know.

Schwester Urlika ist von Romania

2007-08-14T15:35:00.001+02:00

One constant since my arrival in Innsbruck is at least once a day, somewhere in the city,
I see, pass or meet a nun.

So today as I began my first of many 4-hour days in German class, I wasn't the least bit
surprised to be seated next to, you guessed it, a nun.

Her name is Urlika and she's from Romania. Schwester Urlika ist von Romania.

She's the perfect antidote for my seemingly frustrated self these days.

Being sick in general is well, no fun. Being sick and in hospital in a foreign land, ups the ante quite a bit.

I've been less than, let's just say ecstatic lately as I go in and out of hospital to have unspeakable, yet necessary and as dignified as they can make it, "procedures" performed
to with, around and near, my colon.

My usual smile and sunny disposition has been replaced by a new kind of aggression and well, depression I have yet to feel in all of my travels.

The kind of anger I get while touring and dealing with bookers and agents, rental cars, online ticket buying, airlines, travelers and "customer service." I know this kind.

The kind of anger I get for getting grief carrying my guitar (in a soft bag!) on the plane (which weighs and takes up less space than most carry-on's & sometimes pay for a seat and still get trouble) is a 'kind of anger' I am more than familiar with.

The I've been alone, in too many hotel rooms, in too many foreign lands, singing far too much, for far too little money, for much too long 'kind of sadness', is one I don't wish on anybody but know.

But this kind. The... my life full-time in a foreign-speaking country, feeling as if I am starting from scratch...again (even more so than any other time) seeing and feeling the affects of aging (away from what I know is somehow disturbing) ...realizing I had to stop eventually.

The kind of sadness I get knowing I am ill an in and out of hospital and all my family & close friends are not here and really, not even an easy phone call away, is a 'kind of sadenss', I can't quite get used to.

Which from what I gather by the way Schwester Ulrika looks at me, is a good thing.
Getting used to a void and empty state of mind, can't be a good thing no matter how
you look at it.
You gotta' cry uncle eventually.

Then today, as I was setting up my new blog, I came across a travel writer who in fact
was touching on this very thing.

How did he put it, "Spiritual fasting; How to appreciate life through deprivation."

And I knew from the title, instantly, it was all meant to be... the class, the nun, his blog... even this still unknown illness currently the forefront of my life.

The premise being to experience, sometimes even seeking it or more to the point - forcing it upon yourself... the suffering - with the idea it will teach you to be strong and live through it... live without and remind you what you have and what you don't need.

I agree with this, I do. Really. In fact, deep down I have always known this in some way.

But when I look back on my teens and twenties, the later being the most trying in my life so far, I can't say I was aware of this "state of mind" while suffering.

Granted ... because of it, I have gathered the wisdom, experience and keen eyes needed
to function normally (mostly) and carry on through life, a pretty happy little survivor.

There will always be someone with far greater woes...bigger problems and fish that will never actually get fried, never mind the term.
I do not pretend my life was or is some big tragic tale.

Of course, I come with my share of stories, tribulations, let downs and bags so heavy they wouldn't put them under or on any plane... but then part of the beauty of all the muck I dragged, slashed and dug my way through, is the very fact I did not know that at the end of it all, I would come out mostly unscathed and a wiser, more interesting person.
Really, I had no idea what was happening most of the time.
They say you have a selective memory when it comes to pain and or painful memories.
I agree with this too.

In fact, I think I kicked and screamed a good majority of the time. Literally peeling and prying my fingers and hands, dragging my feet, dangling my arms and forcing my body to go along for the rides I managed to take it on throughout my life.
A lot... most of the time, having absolutely no idea how much I needed to suffer nor now much pain I was actually experiencing.

A lot of the time, my instinct was to plant my feet on the ground and cry uncle. Swear I wouldn't make one more move, take one more step, until I was sure it...I .. was safe.

But as it always happened and still seems for the most part, the universe had and has
bigger plans... some better than others and admittingly, not always what I wanted, want
saw or see coming.

I went with it, them... believing that if followed my path, the wind, the road... however you see that, that one day, it would get me to where I was going.
Perhaps a little more rough but a shiny stone from all that tumbling.

I am clear that it's not the end so much as the journey getting there. I know this.
We all know this.

But it doesn't stop us from carrying on searching for that one thing, that one person,
that one place or all those things and people and places, that will tell us everything is
A-okay, we are heading in the right direction... that life is good and suffering is ok. We will forget the pain.

It does take however, as life does, a new deprivation. A new struggle or pain... to realize that all those years of clawing, kicking and screaming and still despite it all, carrying on... wasn't for the things or the people or the places...but for the people it made us. Made me.

This I know. This is something not new to me.

But today, as I sat next to Schwester Ulrika and the very act of looking into her eyes, just
about sent me on a crying binge for a better part of the day, reminded me what a big, fat
baby I am, was being.

For me, right now, being sick well..for lack of a better term, sucks. Being sick in a foreign-speaking, foreign land, sucks even more. And for lack of intelligent articulation, well, this whole adjustment and new life is somehow a repeat of my twenties and sorry..
but it sucks too.
Let's be honest, life is damn hard no matter how you look at it.

Only this time, I am armed with the years I have lived and the roads I have strolled and sometimes, ran like hell on.

I have earned that and this tread and along with it, the physical and not physical, scars I have collected along the way.

My scars, both internally and on this now older, heavier and sometimes tired body, are my souvenirs.

Souvenirs that despite the mess I was sometimes forced to travel in, I am a survivor and at last, a better, more interesting person for my troubles.
Happier? Mostly, usually...sometimes.

Who is it that said, "This too shall pass?"

And do I need to remind myself...apparently so, that maybe I don't need for it to pass
so much as let it be. John Lennon knew what he was talking about.

Perhaps now is the perfect time to take full advantage of this new opportunity.

This new chance to once again go kicking and screaming, clawing and cursing, all the way to the end... wherever that is.

Only this time, my eyes are wide open and I can see exactly where I am going.