Naked for the Masses

In little over 18 hours, i'm going to do something that is scaring me to death.

I'm going to lay myself, my soul, bare to an anonymous audience.

Y'see, I had a lunch, well coffee, date with my very good friend Kimberlina, and among all the various topics we discuss, we started to talk about creativity. I love my chats with her, as she has such a deep essence and vibrancy. We'll start a talk about a comcept, and we almost finish each others sentances, filling in thoughts when words fails one us. Her spirit is illumination, and I enjoy spending time with her...even though I loathe coffee...even the smell!

Anyway, we were saying that creativity comes from pain as much as happiness. It's what you do with it all that makes some creative, or simply bitter. She told me of the joy of painting, and I, of playing and writing music, like i used to almost a decade ago. I haven't since, for various factors: life, work, time, being trapped in untalented land, and...fear.

Because having an art show, acting on stage, and even singing a song of yours, is like getting naked on stage. Totally vunerable. Or, like I say, it's hanging a bullseye on your soul. And the very real fear of somebody rejecting that very inimate part of yourself. Creativity IS pain as much as happiness, huh? And you can't tell what it'll be till you let yourself fall, and hope someone catches you.

I wanted Kimbers to be creative with her life, and she paints, so I bought her for her birthday, everything you would need to paint with acrylics: canvases, brushes, tons o' paint tubes...and hopefully, my love and friendship for her as a muse. I even scribed upon the box "Raindancer, you're pandoras box is within..."

Oh yeah, I call her "Raindancer". Thats what I think of when I see her. Someone in a storm, twirling in the rain with a smile on her face.

She loved it, and i thought, why I can't I hang a bullseye on my soul as well?

In comes my friend, HeatherJean (Faeriejean to the new people to arrive late...shame on you for missing the beginning!). I love my friend and trust her opinion so much. She'll tell me in a flat minute when I'm acting like an ass (and I try to do the same to her), and she's the person I feel safest with when i'm at my most unguarded with my emotions. She is simply the most beatutiful energy I know.

And, she's the first person I let listen to my old demo tapes of songs I recorded with other groups, and even the scratchy reel to reels I recorded in my bathroom...

Yeah, yeah...the bathroom. It has a nice echo, and it's easy to keep a clean sound. With the door closed and a few candles, it feels like a warm place to gestate ideas freely. Try it sometime! Write in there with the toilet as a desk. recite poetry to the medicine cabinet. I even once had a drummer place his stripped down drum set in the tub.

Heather loved the songs I showed her, she was even moved by one! She said, it had a zeal! That moved me. Something I did could do that! And she asked, why don't I do this? Why don't I get back into music?

When the two people who matter, who you know love and respect you ,tell you this, it causes you to think about things.

Tomarrow, I'll be in a place in Portland, a small place, on an acoustic open mike night, playing one of my songs. I told Heather in person yesterday, and I called Kim tonight, but I also told them I can't invite them. I need to do this without any distractions. I'd love to see them, but i'm scared shitless as it is. I have to not pussy out and just do this.

And I'm so frightened, I can bearly sleep. I've written the lyrics a billion times in all different forms. I've tuned, retuned, and re-retuned my guitar. I have clothes layed out. I bought a gazzilian picks in case my fear of loosing-a-pick-phobia while playing overtakes me. Printed out directions in triplicate. And avoid thinking if I screw up the vocals. Oh god...I just reminded myself...

I could so back out in so many ways at any time...

But when I saw the smile and excitement on Heathers face when I told her...the fact I was doing something whith what I've got...took me out of the fire, brushed off the embers and put me back in the frying pan. She even sauted' me with a fine wine sauce till I was golden brown and extra crunchy. Okay, give me a brake, i'm hyper-nervous and I can't think of any good metaphors right now.

So, i'm doing it. I'm taking a deep breath. And, I'm thinking of the warmth of friends who value me that much. I'll be alone, but I really wont be.

Wish me luck. Screw that, wish me talent!

I'll tell you all about the artwork later *wink*