Cruel Cruel Beautiful World Part 3

We were back at the Rose Bowl after a day of relaxing poolside in our beautiful room at the Langham, finally here for Cruel World part two. We arrived early to be safe and after waiting in line for thirty minutes we were in, rushing to our place in the Clubhouse viewing area to see Gary Numan. Numam put on a fantastic set. His music was so dark and his stage performance theatrical and mesmerizing. His voice was captivating. You could feel his love for it. 

Next up was Iggy Pop. A rock powerhouse in his seventies. He rocked that stage and held us in the palm of his hands. Iggy did a lot of Stooges and I pogo danced, singing along with my husband. Of course, one highlight was him doing The Passsenger, which is more of a poem than a song really. 

By the time Siouxsie came on, it was nighttime and the moon was out, a fitting environment for a dark wave queen. The crowd was packed and people were screaming her name. We separated and my husband went side middle, because being over six feet tall, he has that luxury. I went side front, about five from the side of the stage. I was sad because the night before I had been second from the stage. But it would have to do. To say I was into it is an understatement. 

When Dear Prudence came on, I moved to the back and danced in circles to the rest of her set. From Cities in Dust to Happy House to Christine to Spellbound, I danced and danced, for almost an hour, all by myself, hands in the air, in my very own world. I lost myself and found myself. 

It was magic. It was surreal and real. I was sixteen again. A high school kid who needed to escape the chaos and sadness and who found Siouxsie's music to escape into. I time traveled. 

And landed right back in Pasadena.

Cruel Cruel Beautiful World Part 2

So Cruel World was canceled. We were devastated. The parking lot was full of disappointed dark wave fans. Wails of "No Siouxsie!" echoed through the parking lot and many heavily lined eyes were ruined by tears of disappointment (including my own).  

How could this happen? It wasn't even raining (there were lightning strikes so I understand in retrospect, but that night it was baffling). After our friends found us, we went and ate barbecue at a restaurant in Pasadena and commiserated. We had a nice talk and each said with disappointment occasionally with a sigh, "No Siouxsie..."  

You see, to dark wave music fans like us, getting to see Siouxsie was like seeing a goddess, a dark wave super star and we were sad. We also knew she might never return to the States.

After dinner, at the hotel, I crashed and woke up like I always do at 4 am. Then I went to my social media and found out that Cruel World was back on! They had added a second night. What? Was this for real? Siouxsie was playing along with Iggy and Gary Numan. Wow. 

I woke Adrian up who said, "No way, I'm tired." From four to seven am, I stressed. Did he really mean he didn't want to go? I knew we both worked Monday, so I understood. But man, I wanted to stay. You only live once and this is Siouxsie. When he woke up, I anxiously posed the query again. And he said immediately with no hesitation, "Babe of course! It's Siouxsie. Let's do it." 

This taught me two things. First, don't ask people important questions when they're half asleep. And two, we are soul mates for a reason.

To be continued...

Cruel cruel beautiful world part 1

This has been a chaotic but soul sustaining week. Music is my inspiration and it's what keeps me going and living. We started out Thursday night at the famous western saloon style venue, Pappy's & Harriet's in Joshua Tree. We were there for Adam Ant who cancelled. 

We couldn't cancel the room next door so drove over anyway and had barbecue. We lounged in the tiny motel room cracking up that it reminded us of our first apartment together in San Francisco. It made me realize that Adrian and I really don't need much to be happy. Good food, a bed to sleep in, and some beer. That's about it. In the morning, we visited the living desert in Palm Desert and marveled at the giraffes, a rhinoceros and big cat jaguars. The walk was nice and it wasn't too hot, until it was. 

Saturday was Cruel World and we got to our hotel early trading the western blue collar life for an upscale room at the Langham in Pasadena. We headed right over to the concert festival venue at the Rose Bowl and Adrian (trying to be fancy) sprung for an Uber XL which was hysterically more of a Disney ride than an Uber, complete with stuffed animals and NFL stickers. I was surprised they let the van drive in. 

The driver was a kind, older guy from LA and we told him he should add mocktails and a table to the mini van. 

Once we got to Cruel World, we waited in line then pretty quickly, we were in. 

We made our way to the Clubhouse which was pretty frigging awesome with lots of comfy seating, a vegan buffet line and all you can drink beer and cocktails. Dangerous, yes, but fun. We sat outside in the patio in lounge chairs and listened to the opening acts. 

I was anxious and smoked a few cigarettes and saw a friend, then drank a few too many beers too quickly. They just kept offering. Another? Another? Sure. 

The day just passed. We ate. Saw Gary Numan. Then I ran by myself to see Squeeze who was subbing in for Adam Ant. It was definitely worth it. They sounded great. I drank some water and danced in the sun to "Annie Get Your Gun" while Adrian watched Echo & the Bunnymen from the Clubhouse patio, a band who refused to be filmed on the jumbo screen.

After Squeeze, I ran back to Adrian and we rocked out to Love and Rockets who put on a great set. Then it was time for Iggy Pop and I knew I had to get up there in front. I was second to the rail and I marveled as Iggy sang "The Passenger" and tapped my feet waiting for Siouxsie Sioux. 

Then boom, it was over. Lightening in the sky cancelled the concert. It was abrupt. Scary. Chaotic. They pushed me out to the exit, but Adrian was still inside. I knew we had to get to our locker. I couldn't lose my merch! I begged, pleaded and weaseled my way back in. Suddenly, I found Adrian and it was like a light went on in my head and heart when I saw him. Then our friends called us. Did we need a ride? "Yes!" I shouted. "Yes!" "Yes!"

Under pressure

Lately, I've been lacking writing motivation. I think I'm spent. Tired of it all. Work is hectic and that is taking a lot of my focus and I think that's okay. You can't do everything or have everything or be everything to everyone.

What is it in me that makes me strive to always please everyone? I've been saying I'm going to pull back, do less, but it's really hard. I'm naturally social and a yes person. But I have said no to some summer events. I just need a few months where I am not so impacted. 

So where am I going now? What will I be doing? Well I got work, and my podcast till mid June (we're on a month hiatus in July) and I have to finish my screenplay because my coach gave me a deadline. I think that is enough. Enough already. 

The pressure I put on myself is more than anyone could understand. I'm already asking myself, where's the next book, the next project, the next "something"?

And the answer is, I don't know.

Breathing room

It's been quite a whoosh of a last couple of years. It's been a doozie. I keep saying that. But it has. I've been so lucky to have a lot of things come together. I've performed so many times this year. I've blurbed books. I've curated events. I've even done seminars and found that more reflective voice where I'm me and not the performer. Well, I'm always kind of a ham, but I am trying to find the balance and still not take myself too seriously.

What I haven't had recently is time to breathe. I work full-time yet still write. I write for my MFA workshop which just ended where I wrote a couple of long form essays for an eventual collection. I started a script. And I write this blog of course too. Yet everything's always a rush, and I'm always time constrained because what I haven't had time for is to sit, chill, relax and write. That place, when I have room to breathe, is my best space. 

So soon, I'm taking a hiatus from the events, and all of the performing and podcasting to do me. I have a concert week lined up because that always inspires me to no end. We're hoping to go on vacation. I'll put the phone away because I'm gonna write, and write then write some more. 

And live baby. I'm gonna just live.

Why Write

I have probably tried to answer the question of why I write before. Yet, let me ask myself again, why do I write? 

I write because I must. I write because it feels real and true. I write because I have to see myself on the page to understand myself.

This has been a rough week. Work stuff had me all wrecked and stressed. I could feel my blood pressure rising. My temples pounded, so I took a deep breath. Then another and another.

It is all about how you look at it. I know I'm a hard worker and a good lawyer. I try to be kind, and helpful. But sometimes, you have to put boundaries. It's okay not to be liked. I'd rather be respected at this point and heard.

My people pleasing days are over. I am learning the art of not giving a whit about what others think of me. 

So yesterday, after a chaotic, very long work day, I meditated. I prayed. I visualized. My blood pressure went down to normal, 120 over 70. Then, this morning I wrote. 

And that my friends, is why I write. It may seem like I'm writing about nothing. But really, seriously, it's everything. 

Whirlwind

I am on my third performing event this week. Let me tell ya, it's been a whirlwind.

On Wednesday, I had the time of my life at UCR. It was such an honor to present at the Tomás Rivera Conference. I read for over thirty minutes (which for me is a long read as ten to fifteen minutes is my usual sweet spot). Then I was on a panel moderated by one of my idols, IE writer Susan Straight (buy her latest book Mecca, it's so beautifully done) with epic UCR Professor Alex Espinoza (get his amazing books Still Water Saints and Cruising) and the poet Gabriel Ibarra, winner of the Alta California Chapbook Prize for On Display, a must read.

Not only is Susan a warm, supportive writer and professor, but she's so down to earth that she made me feel right at home. Plus, she had the best questions. She went deep. I got emotional toward the end thinking of my dad. Wishing he was still here to see all this. But at least I know what he would say. "I'm proud of you Jenny..."

Then Thursday, another jaw dropping evening at the Riverside Library. I was on an Inlandia panel moderated by Cati Porter with UCR Professor Richard Rodriguez who wrote one of my favorite books about music ever, "A Kiss Across the Ocean", it's a post punk masterpiece. It was a dream come true to talk post punk music and memoir with Richard.

Today, I will read with 15 other writers at the Culver Center for the Arts celebrating the 10 year anniversary of the Inlandia Literary Journey column in the Press Enterprise. It's the last event for a while and I find it fitting to end on a journalistic note. 

Everything is so wonderful now writing and performing wise. Something feels right, like I'm in the zone. It's been a whirlwind, and a wonderful week.