Elizaveta Ephemeris

let the alchemical tinkering begin

The secret to life, I have found, is acknowledging once and for all that what is inside you colors everything around you.

If your heart is feeling murky and dull, that brush will tarnish the brightest day.

If, however, you are bursting with gold, everything and everyone around you will glisten, regardless of whether there is any sunshine about.

It is an alchemical process - and the magical alchemical engine, which works every second of your life is right here, right now, inside your own self.

That is also the reason why we almost never inhabit quite the same reality as anyone else: that force that informs our existence is vastly different for everyone. We may see the same things, but we interpret them very differently. If life is a coloring book, we color in the same shapes, but the shades of color are so very varied. 

Today I received some disappointing news... and yet, the strange bubble of joy that has been growing inside me in the recent days, refuses to evaporate. In fact, it works as a shield of sorts - and what would normally deflate me, has merely been accepted by my inner self as yet another twist of the Road. 

And here is this:

 

From Bruce Mau's "Incomplete Manifesto for Growth" :

1. Allow events to change you. 
   You have to be willing to grow. Growth is different from something that happens to you. You produce it. You live it. The prerequisites for growth: the openness to experience events and the willingness to be changed by them.
   
   
2. Forget about good. 
   Good is a known quantity. Good is what we all agree on. Growth is not necessarily good. Growth is an exploration of unlit recesses that may or may not yield to our research. As long as you stick to good you’ll never have real growth.
   
   
3. Process is more important than outcome. 
   When the outcome drives the process we will only ever go to where we’ve already been. If process drives outcome we may not know where we’re going, but we will know we want to be there.
   
   
4. Love your experiments (as you would an ugly child). 
   Joy is the engine of growth. Exploit the liberty in casting your work as beautiful experiments, iterations, attempts, trials, and errors. Take the long view and allow yourself the fun of failure every day.
   
   
5. Go deep. 
   The deeper you go the more likely you will discover something of value.
   
   
6. Capture accidents. 
   The wrong answer is the right answer in search of a different question. Collect wrong answers as part of the process. Ask different questions. 

getting there... and back to poetry

I am feeling a lot better today, but it is still a day of rest.

I just watched Love The Earth, which is a crowd-sourced short film, scored by Imogen Heap - and then her performance with special cyborg gloves, which produce sound wirelessly, and the movement defines the tone/sound.

She is beyond amazing: I adore her.

Tomorrow I hook up all my equipment, pick up the guitar and start playing with music again. I want to do some special things for the tour that starts mid May. More on that soon..

I also intend to write more poetry, make some serious inroads in the Beatrix story, listen to hours of new music, dance and be wildly inspired and creative. I have been *doing* a lot since the beginning of the year - performing, planning, stressing, traveling, wondering, organizing.

And now all my heart wants is playtime with my Muse.

Last night I went ahead and re-read some of 'The Little Prince' by Saint-Exupery. I recently met someone who made me think of the book and its character - not the grown-up, but the Little Prince himself. This is one of those books that forever speak to me: almost as if it is written in code, and the code translates into whatever daily life I am living; regardless of whether it is now, tomorrow or five years ago.

'The Alchemist' is another one of those books.

 

“It's the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.” 
― Paulo Coelho, Alchemist

A poem I wrote a while back:

 

I am not afraid
Ok, maybe a little bit
but even if I am
it's just a temporary place.

But this much I do know:
The straight lines and corners;
illusions that we make
and clothes we wear
to separate ourselves:
they are not us.

Now and then I get this
aching desire to let go
of everything I have ever learned
about who I am
where I am going
and what I truly want.

There is something here
I keep seeing out the corner of my eye.
Perhaps, if I move sideways
instead of forward, or backwards
or even standing still
I will know what it is.

Now and then
I get weak at the knees
from the love I feel
for this world
and tonight they're within me:
the knowing, the fear, the pleasure
of being human:
so alive and imperfect.

in bed

...and so just before the tour was over - and I had two shows left - my body said "STOP. NO FURTHER. OR ELSE".

Literally.

I started running a high fever, my throat was in agony, and standing up for long periods of time was a luxury I was no longer able to afford. I went to a doctor in Tucson, who examined me, prescribed me antibiotics and kindly informed me that I should consider NOT singing in the coming two days, if I wanted to get away with my vocal cords intact, and especially if I had more concerts scheduled in the upcoming weeks (which I do).

And so after a minor emotional breakdown (I HATE canceling things, I dislike being weak, and I detest giving in to circumstances), I had to not-so-graciously concede.

Body always wins.

I am home, in bed, catching up on emails, sleep, movies and mediocre BBC crime series, which are curiously satisfying. Guitar practice awaits, as do all the important chores.... but....but....not quite yet.

Lots of exciting things in the works. Stay tuned.

back again... for a minute

I am back and spending some time with my guitar.. as it is raining outside. Southern California really needed rain, apparently. I am not at all sorry it came back with me from Northern California. We drove across the state together, seemingly.

The video for Meant is almost finished, another tour has been scheduled for May, and the iTunes acoustic session release is coming up soon. 

A brand new website is in the works - and we will soon start unveiling the story of Beatrix: which is the story behind the record. It will be premiered online in different formats throughout the rest of this year.

I performed at the El Rey theater last night, together with Michael Valerio on acoustic bass, who is my occasional MD and one of my favorite people and musicians all in one. I had not played at the El Rey Theater for almost a year, so it was a welcome return to home turf, so to speak, and an opportunity to observe my own progress. Yes, there has definitely been progress.

It was also very rewarding to see some of the new fans. There was one boy who was 14. There was a mother with her daughter who was 10. There were some older people, and a whole group of feisty and lovely women in their late 30's.

We drove all day from San Francisco. This tour has been all about driving around in a van - not the most comfortable or luxurious endeavor you can imagine, but strangely satisfying, as well - I get to catch up on all my reading, some language stuff (Chinese, hello??!!) and also meditation.

Furthermore, I think there is something in the movement that appeals to my restless nature and keeps the inner critic calm. After all, we are going somewhere, therefore we are not idle; therefore there is hope for a new development, other routes, something exciting around the corner.

Perhaps that is that, then. I would make a lousy housewife or librarian, most likely, because when I am still in one place for too long, I get anxious. When I get anxious, I am starting to inhabit my own head a bit too much, and that, in turn, makes me more anxious. Maybe I was a sailor in a past life. Or a mercenary. Or maybe a traveling potion maker or juggler, who sang.

Or maybe I am just young:)

However, it is not a coincidence that the story of Beatrix Runs - the story of time-traveling adventure behind the album - is very much a mirror of my own story up until now.

It is a story of struggle, searching for one's identity, adventure and, above all, coming to realize that life is an alchemical process.

Synchronicity

We are in Vancouver and it's beautiful. The last time I was here was a few years ago, and it was with a boyfriend (who is no longer my boyfriend).

There is a strange thing about going places with someone you are truly in love with vs. someone who are 'kind of' into. It's really very different. I don't even remember much of Vancouver back then.

I don't think I was in love with him.

And then, there is this third way - going somewhere on your own or with a great friend, like I am doing on these tour stints. Missy's enthusiasm for life, people and all things never stops to astonish me and warm my heart. She helps me get past the moments when my Russian cynicism or melancholy kick in. And more than anything, exploring these new cities makes me feel like I am 12 all over again - in a good way.

I think I must be on the right track recently, because more and more things that happen in my life feel like they were meant to be - or have already happened. I also often find myself thinking or talking of something, only to look up and see the words printed on someone's T-shirt - or hear the words of a song that match the mood of the conversation - things like that. Synchronicity.

Tonight I perform in Canada for the first time. Another first.  There are a lot of those for me these days.

Vancouver is full of cherry blossom trees in flower. They are like white pieces of heaven throughout the city. They make me want to go to Japan soon.

on the road again

I am incredibly tired, and yet buoyant. 

Yes, buoyant - I love this word - it is one of my favorites in English - and I have been waiting to use it in the recent days, so here is my opportunity.

In case you are wondering: buoyancy is a good thing.

The video shoot went so well. We had such a difficult time making everything come together in a very short time - but come together it did. Last night, as we opened some champagne, the feeling was of that best (in my opinion) variety of satisfaction when, against all odds and through ups and downs, the pieces of the puzzle fit in a beautiful pattern and the final result is almost more than what you expected of the best possible outcome.

I learned that I can act - and now I actually want to take some acting lessons because I found myself enjoying it, quite unexpectedly. Who knew!

I have so much to look forward to - and for once - I am not afraid. I have no idea what the future will bring- but I have done so much already. I have given 2012 my full and undivided attention. The music is out there. The story of Beatrix will grow and spread far and wide. And a vital emotional piece of it - Meant - and the video, which we shot as part of the larger story - will be out there soon, as well.

 

Tomorrow we are flying to Seattle and driving to Vancouver to perform. I am opening for an amazing group - James - and it's a string of 10 dates this time, terminating in San Diego on April 19th.

Onwards. With or without a map.

But definitely with a compass:)