Since I Fell For You 1980

Since I've talked so much about singing in this blog but have never provided examples, the following 3 posts are the only digital evidence I have from the old days. I have some more recent recordings but they are all on cassette. So, a 19-year-old girl singer will have to suffice, for now.

I have to say I miss singing this song. Would love to do it again, some day.

Cloudburst - This Masquerade 1980

I wish I could re-record the vocals but for age 19, I guess they're not too bad. Not sure where Bob Kissinger recorded this. I think it was at a wedding reception some place.

Singing in 1980

Here I am at age 19, singing with my very first band, "Cloudburst". We did a disco version of "Runaway". I like our arrangement and I'm not cringing too much at my singing. My cowbell playing, on the other hand...

Resonance Frequencies

I really believe that vibration and resonance hold the keys to life and existence on this planet, and maybe throughout the universe.

I came up with a theory, many years ago, called "The 12 Waves of Existence". In my theory, there are 12 basic vibrational waves that humans resonate towards. We are drawn to others who share our resonance frequencies and travel on similar paths.

What is my proof? Nothing. I have absolutely no proof. I've never done any extended reading on the subject and I don't know what kind of research has been done. It is just a feeling that I have.

Today I went to my weekly acupuncture appointment. Usually, I am able to relax and fall into a meditation almost as soon as the needles have been inserted. Not today. This time, I was unusually agitated and realized that my hands were almost gripping the arms of the recliner. I realized that the music playing in the treatment room was very irritating to me. I asked Jordan, the practitioner, to turn the music down, which he did. I also put earplugs in my ears. But, even that didn't help. The Chinese choir kept repeating the same phrase over and over and over. There was something about the chord changes and the notes being sung that grated on my nerves. I tried to breathe into my discomfort, accept and release my irritation. Nothing doing.

I ended my acupuncture session after only an hour. Usually it takes an hour and a half, to two hours to complete treatment. But, I could not take it any longer! After my session, I explained to Jordon the reason for my irritation. And then, I could not stop laughing about how pissed off I got, just because of the music.

I believe that the notes being sung were running counter to my body's own resonance. That is the only theory I can come up with. The recorded voices were in tune, the style of music was somewhat soothing (although very repetitive). There was just something about it that made me anxious.

Have you ever had that experience?

Stats and Cliches

I've started looking at the statistics for my blog and I am amazed.

I had no idea so many people looked at this thing. I hardly ever post pictures or videos and I only write about my life. I thought maybe my friends and the 8 people who "follow" my blog might check in now and again.

Turns out I have had well over 3000 'hits' and you are from all over the world!!! Most people reading Ansapo's World live in the US, but some of you are from Russia, The Netherlands, Australia and Qatar! Canada is also represented as are China and Brazil. Who knew???

Looks like most people surfed in after looking for adorable photos of puppies. Sometime last year I made a post called "Running Fluffy Puppy" that featured a photo I found on the Internet of a white doggie with its tongue hanging out. But several of you have read my other ramblings.

Ramblings that, as I realize now, are filled with cliched writing. I've never considered myself a brilliant writer. Usually, I just jot down whatever leaves my head. I pray that it is coherent and mildly entertaining. I know that I write prose and definitely not poetry. I'm afraid my Capricorn sensibilities are far too pragmatic, for the most part, to invent intoxicating sentences. But, hopefully I am able to say what I need to say and get my point across.

I started keeping a blog during my senior year at UNCG, in 2005 I had gone back to college full-time in mid-life. A very un-sound financial decision, but one I have never regretted. I was finally able to prove to myself that I am smart (graduated Magna Cum Laude) and I loved attending classes. During my final semester, I took a long-avoided required English Literature class. To my amazement, I loved it. The professor, a man younger than I, selected fabulous novels for us to read by authors such as Jhumpa Lahiri, Michael Chabon and Joyce Carrol Oates. I found that when I read these books, it made me want to write. So, in fits and starts this blog was created. It has been over 5 years now and I am so glad I have a place to deposit my thoughts. The fact that you are reading them fills me with amazement.

Hope you don't mind the cliches.

A Good Night's Sleep

I miss my old bed.

Not the bed I had before my life drastically changed back in August.

I miss the bed I had to leave in Greensboro, North Carolina back in late November of 2005. My Beauty Rest firm, 2-sided, flippable, queen-size mattress. No freakin' pillow-top on that one. The most comfortable bed I ever owned. I slept on it for at least a decade.

When I finally got a job after my grad-school debacle I was able to afford a new bed from the Sleep-Air company. My former boss gave the manufacturer high marks and said I'd get "more bang for my buck". And she was right - for about 2 years. The firm, pillow-topped, one-sided mattress was fantastic for a little while and then, it got strangely lumpy and a spring broke on the side where I normally slept.

When I bought the mattress, it came with a 10-year warranty. Unfortunately, The Spring Air mattress place closed down about a year after I purchased my bed. They'd been in business FOREVER in Seattle! They left town with no forwarding address. If I wanted to complain, I had to call Canada or Texas. So, I came up with a solution. I flipped the mattress over to reveal its very lightly padded side and bought a memory foam cushion to place on top of it. That worked out great for a year.

Did you know that it is nearly impossible these days to buy a mattress that can be flipped? They all had 2 sides made for sleeping up until about 10 years ago, apparently. Then, somebody in the bedding industry got wise and figured out that mattresses would wear out much more quickly if you could only sleep on one side. Prior to that, salesmen advised customers to flip the bed periodically, for better wear and tear. Good old planned obsolescence reared its ugly head.

And why am I writing this? Well, it is 4:15 in the morning. Once again, I have been awakened by aches and pains. Since I moved back in with my sister, I have slept on a futon (became way too lumpy), an air mattress (which deflated after it got a couple of leaks - my patch job was unsuccessful), and now a memory foam pad on the floor (the best solution but far from ideal). I don't want to purchase a used mattress due to all of the recent bed bug scares. Icky.

Times like these I'm glad I'm not skinny. At least I have a little bit of my own padding to soften things a bit.

Art Attack!

I miss being an artist. I suppose I am still one but my creativity has been a bit lacking, recently. I won't beat myself up about it, though, because my life has been kind of wacko for the past several months and my living situation is not completely stable.

Happily, I have just recently started doing very small watercolor pencil works again. I probably got inspired when I picked up the check for a small piece I created about 5 years ago. It had been hanging at Art F/X for a long time. When I felt the creative urge, I went into Daniel Smith's artist supply store. If that place doesn't inspire you, I don't know what will! I think I finally found a solution to my paper problem. The handmade watercolor paper I used to use had been discontinued. See, I use a LOT of water when I make my paintings. I draw, add water, over soak and blot off excess paint and water. Then I start over later, with another layer. Adds dimension to a piece. Perhaps I'll complete a small (5 x 7 inch) painting tomorrow.

On Friday, I attended my second session of paint dancing, held in that cool studio in Wallingford. Matt had the 70's and 80's funk and R&B tunes playing and I was in a blissful state, painting with wild abandon and dancing like a fool. A fellow paint-dancer was mesmerized (or confused) by my movement and asked me why I was dancing like that (not the greatest compliment, I suppose). I answered "THE MUSIC!! It makes me move!" Really, I have to state again that I can't understand how people can NOT be inspired by music. I totally wore myself out that night and I made some colorful abstract pieces that I kinda like. Might try and frame them and put them up at Art F/X.

Saturday, as it turns out, I was called in to work for a few hours at Art F/X and then after a wonderful dinner with friends, I went to an 'open studio' in Ballard. A large building, that houses several artist studios had a monthly opening. I loved it. I got to meet several successful local artists and talk about their creative processes with them. One man, named A.J., distresses his canvasses, like I used to do. I did it with layers of paint and sometimes glue and putty and wax. He uses solvent and scrapes the surface up with Brillo Pads. Then, I found my old Art/Not Terminal colleague, Claude Utley. I've always been intrigued with Claude's work. Some of his work is very naive at times, but wildly colored. Some might call it child-like and abstract and absurd. But make no mistake, he is highly skilled and can work in a very intricate mosaic style, too. We had a very nice chat and I bought a very, very small piece that I quickly put in a frame and hung on my wall.

When I was a little girl, I was always drawing, making paper dolls, coloring, etc. Then, that side fell away, as art teachers demanded precision. It took an experimental drawing and painting class, when I was 31 or 32, to bring out my visual artistic side. I will be forever thankful for my wise left hand, that picked up the telephone receiver and dialed the number to sign up for Peggy Zehring's class. In just a couple of days, I learned to mix colors and experiment and trust my inner-guidance. We painted blindfolded and there was no place to judge ourselves. It was a life-changing experience.

I have painted off and on now, for about 18 years. I can't believe it has been so long! Back when I had my old condo off of Lake City Way, for years I had a clear plastic tarp covering the dining area carpet. Paints and brushes and canvases were strewn all over and there was always a painting in the middle of completion. It looked chaotic but I have many fond memories of waking up and feeling creative at 3am, getting out of bed and throwing paint at a canvas. It was very meditative and therapeutic. A couple of my pieces felt "channeled" Especially the one that looked like the Earth on fire. I don't have that piece now. Last I checked, it was trapped in a storage shed in Hillsboro, NC, behind Ginny Tyler's old rental home. The lock was jammed and we could not open the door when I moved back West. I don't even know if that place still stands (it has been 5 years now). I sure miss those paintings, though and wish I could get them back!

Woman On Top

Gino Vannelli Woman OnTop

Donja | Myspace Video

Dive Bar Singing with Lance

I showed up at The Tug last week, after listening to some fantastic straight ahead jazz, played by Randy Halberstadt at Tula's. Was so hungry for more music and the only affordable thing at 11:00PM was Karaoke at that West Seattle dive bar.

I signed up to sing a few of my favorites. Had a great time - the sound system in this tiny place is really, really good and I sounded pretty good, again. So happy my voice is returning.

A tall, handsome creole-colored man was sitting next to the karaoke host. He complimented my singing. When the host got up to sing Genesis' "Land of Confusion", the man and I both did the background oohs and aahs together, from either side of the bar. I eventually ran up next to him, we got in front of the mic and we became a background singing duo.

We sat together for the rest of the night. His name is Lance and he has a hell of a bass voice! He is from The Bronx and Queens, NY and then moved to Phoenix and San Francisco.

And, once again, I got to hear the "hard luck story" of a man who had "almost made it" in the music business. Lance was in a band that was going places. He had formed it with a partner. One day, the partner was distraught and after snorting some cocaine, he shot himself in the head right on his front lawn. As you might imagine, this had a devastating effect on everyone who loved that man, especially Lance. He never again tried to rekindle his career. The dream of being a professional musician died for him that day.

Lance later made a name for himself in California as a regional voice-over artist and continued writing songs and playing music for his own enjoyment. He wound up in Seattle after a failed marriage and got a job at Microsoft. He is now working on a screenplay.

I have recently encountered many kindred souls singing Karaoke and Rockaraoke. I can't believe that it has taken me 25 years to find them. While I was never even close to "making it", I worked many long and hard hours in my late teens and 20's as a "journeyman" singer. We played 5 sets of music a night, 6 nights a week in tiny clubs, fire halls, banquet halls, theme parks and slightly swanky places. When I traded in full-time musicianship for weekend warrior life, those one-night private party gigs helped pay a lot of bills. I loved the musicians. Very smart men with whom I shared many laughs. There is something about the musicians' mind. The way it twists and contorts and finds humor. I love it. I think I share it. I just have no talent in my hands (or maybe just never had enough discipline to take up an instrument).

Everybody has a story, you know? Lance's is far from over. After hearing him sing one of his original tunes, I could see his passion coming back. Perhaps at 50 years of age, he is finally ready to return to the stage.

A Look at Chester

Just came across this photo.

It is from last year, when Lisa's dog, Dudley, met my kitty, Chester, for the first time. Chester looks so puffy and full of fur here. He would not put up with Dudley's shenanigans.

Chester was awfully cute. Missing him tonight.

And, missing having my own apartment. When I look at the photo, I can't tell that my place was filled with "toxic spores". Maybe they hadn't yet arrived.

I try not to over think everything that has happened since that photo was taken. Today, (and I can only speak for today - this moment) I don't feel remorse or regret about anything EXCEPT losing Chester.

I still feel like it all has happened for a reason and that I am being divinely guided - someplace. Just not sure where that is yet.

Perhaps Chester will be waiting for me, when I get there.

The culprit.

I get so weak when I watch this. Every damned time. Weak.
Update: AAAAAAAUUUUGGGGGHHHH!!! The guy's You Tube account was deleted, which means I won't ever be able to watch this again. I am so sad. You have no idea.