I am always touched when people reach out to me to ask when/where I am performing.  I've been getting a lot of those emails lately and I am touched and simultaneously bummed.  I am not performing, nor do I foresee doing any shows in the near future.  For the most part I am ok with that.  Busy, busy, busy.  No time to really think about what I am NOT doing - too hard to remember what I need to be doing now, tomorrow, yesterday.  My job and my two kids fill up every crevice of my life and the odds and ends of everyday survival suck up the remaining drops of free time.

Then there is the part of me that feels sad about not having music be an active part of my life.  Where did it go?...  Is it gone forever?  Will I ever do it again?

My boys are fantastic creatures.  They are so funny, silly, loving, frustrating and fascinating that the days fly by...  I love my children so deeply that there is almost no room for any regret.  Almost.  There is a teeny part of me that aches for self-expression - that needs it.  I hope to find that space again someday.

So what am I writing for now when I have nothing to say...  ?

I am building up to a confession. 

For the first time in a long time I need and appreciate art.  I have been revisiting classical music - I still LOVE Rachmaninoff - and painting (Van Gogh floats my boat - Monet's Parliament series too).  Then there is literature.  Austin, Shakespeare, Hemingway, and Meyer. 

Yes, Stephenie Meyer.

I am such a fan of the Twilight books.  I am not one to read romance novels or indulge in sci-fi books...  There is something so compelling about these stories that awakens my imagination and creativity.  I am so pulled into the stories and it allows me a wonderful escape.  Yes, that escape used to be songwriting where I would pour my thoughts and feelings into my lyrics and melodies.   I don't have that right now, so I am so grateful to Stephenie Meyer for providing such an obviously needed valve.  Sure, the stories are romantic and thrilling, but also, Meyer creates such a vivid alternate oddly plausible universe where the average girl becomes an immortal superhero, where a boring, deary small-town harbors the fantastic, where love and passion are eternal and morality is sexy.

I am thankful that a friend introduced me to the series.  In a round-about way I feel connected to the rest of multi-generational womankind and open to the possibilities of life.  If Meyer, stay-at-home mom of 3 boys (I think that's what I read), can, out of the blue, rock the world, anything is possible. 

So there is hope. : )

That's all I have to say!  Random thoughts as I watch an AbFab marathon!

Wishing everyone a very healthy, happy and prosperous 2010!

xo

Jenny

Today people from all over the world are running the New York Marathon. How on earth do people do that? Run 26 miles? In fact I have many friends who have run the marathon. I don't think I ever will. I don't think I really want to. I suspect that you really have to want to run 26 miles in order to do it! Helicopters are swooping constantly around our neighborhood to get a shot of the park. It's such an invasion. I don't understand why they're allowed to behave the way they do... hovering in residential areas for a half hour at a time. They are SO noisy. It's just wrong. But my complaints fall on deaf ears. People who don't live in New York tell me, "what do you expect? You live in NYC!" People who live in New York say "What helicopters? I don't even notice them." So... I guess it's like it or lump it. You would think after all these years, a lifetime in New York City, I'd be used to the noise. Quite the opposite is true. I used to work for Lewis Rudin years ago (a major real estate philanthropist). His family, his father in particular, Sam Rudin, was one of the major sponsors of the NYC Marathon. Each year when the marathon comes around I think of Lew who died 4 years ago. He was a generous and exigent man... I can't say I enjoyed working for him, but it the job had its perks. I was able to record my first album while I worked there (I only worked 3 days a week). I got this great apartment where I now live. Lew used to give me 4th row center tickets to the Metropolitan Opera. I heard Placido Domingo, Pavarotti & Carreras as well as Kiri Tekanawa (sp?) and a number of amazing divas. It was magic. He also would give me tickets each year to the NY Film Festival. I had a day pass and could check out all the best new independent films before anyone else. Often the actors, directors and producer would attend the screenings and answer questions at the end. There were films from all around the world. It was amazing. Then I would get to go to the opening and closing black-tie ceremonies where all the beautiful people congregated and shmoozed. I was in a bathroom stall right next to Nicole Kidman one time. Yes, she too pees! My mother also worked for Lew. I, in fact, got her the job! It was so great to by her side. We got along so well. We'd have lunch every day and chat all the time. It was wonderful. I am so grateful for that time. I hope she knows how much I love her and miss her every single day. My sister, her boyfriend, my father and I all went to visit Mom's grave today. It was so foggy outside this morning that we felt like we live in the clouds. Out the window everything was grey, white and heavenly quiet. My mother is buried in Woodlawn Cemetary in the Bronx. Just opposite her plot is Mayor Laguardia and only a 100 yards away like Miles Davis, Duke Ellington and many other great jazz artists. Of course there are lots of regular people too. That's the beauty of NYC. The rich and the poor, black, white, asian, hispanic and hundreds of ethnicities mixed together. In death we are all equal. Although some people have bigger chunks of rock or marble. The beauty of their graves contributes to the overall beauty of the place for all. I strolled the hill behind Mom's grave trying to compose myself. I was reading the dates and was shocked to see so many born less than a decade ago. Little kids. Babies. One headstone was adorned with dozens of stuffed animals, barbies and toys. It broke my heart. I'd like to say it made me feel fortunate to have my mother as long as I did, but that would be a lie. Rationally, I thought it. But my heart still aches. She left too soon. These children, on the other hand, their passing is tragic. I can't imagine those poor parents and families. Reality stings - or bites... Woodlawn is a beautiful place. In the spring, there are so many flowering trees everywhere. It's really extraordinary. In the fall there are golden and fire-red maples all over the place. Enormous ,heaving, yellow weeping willows. It's very romantic. I am glad my mother rests there. At the very least it is a peaceful and lovely place to contemplate life and death. Music, music, music. I'm doing all kinds of things musical, but not really performing right now. I just don't have the energy or the desire to perform. It will come back, I feel certain. I had re-recorded a vocal for one song which is what is holding up releasing the album. My friend who did the work has all but vanished without a trace. I give up! I guess I'm being too much of a perfectionist. I guess it's done... So one day I will do a gig. When, I don't know... Will anyone be there to listen? Maybe not. But, I've been there before... Ugh. Starting over. Daunting! xo Jenny B