Elizaveta Ephemeris

moving on...

Today I am feeling content because last night's performance made me realize that the recent opera and guitar practice are definitely paying off. Maybe it's the Capricorn in me, but there is really nothing I like better than the feeling of well-earned progress.

I also premiered five new songs and the reactions of the audience were very satisfying. I would say I am well on my way to a new body of material - and songs - that are on par with Beatrix Runs album. I am worlds away from where I was professionally even a year ago. And I have big plans.

Next week's show is going to be all about my looping station and some other gadgets I will incorporate into the live performance, whereas the last two were more on the acoustic live side. I am transitioning to electric guitar, as well.

This past week or so I made it a routine to start my mornings with a bike ride to the ocean and a swim. The water is not very warm, but it's not bad at all, and it's invigorating. It's a great routine. I am going to keep this up, so that even in December I'll be out there, swimming. It clears my brain and jumpstarts the body. Maybe occasionally I'll do some surfing, but if you are surfing, you have to wear the wetsuit. I do so love the feeling of salt cold water on my skin..

Heroes

I have often been asked who my heroes are - the non-family ones.

There are obvious ones - like Joseph Campbell - for his intelligence, charisma and ability to draw patterns that connect various points of reality in a way that makes sense to me on a very intimate level.

Musical ones - like Freddie Mercury - who I still consider the best singer of the last two generations.

Peter Gabriel - whose 'So' concert I saw a week ago and walked away feeling like I had just had the best sex of my life, for three hours straight. Doesn't matter how old he is, he's got it. And that show was arguably the best I had ever seen.

Sting - for his life lived gracefully, and an ability to keep evolving - from a rockstar and Roxanne - to an album of songs performed on lute - a lifestyle of yoga .

My producer Greg Wells became, through working together, somewhat of a musical hero of mine - he is a multi-instrumentalist, among other things, and able to play piano like a god without ever practicing. He says he does it in his sleep. I believe him. He can also do that with drums and guitar. Uncanny, but there you have it.

Then, there are people like Tina Turner - whose life and career are testament to strength, talent and perseverance - in a woman. If you never saw the film 'What's Love Got To Do With It', do it. Angela Bassett is fantastic in it, but moreover, her story is inspiring because it demonstrates that it is possible to overcome some of the direst circumstances, including straight-out abuse, and achieve your dreams. Even if you have to start over more than half-way through.

It is logical that we often admire those who possess qualities we, ourselves, feel we lack. Strength, charisma, talent or an effortless ability to be themselves without need for validation. In relationships, we often end up being attracted to these people and sometimes it works and sometimes it backfires. If you do not work on those qualities within yourself, and your partner possesses one or more of them in abundance, chances are that it is those same things that drew you to them in the first place, that will end up repelling you. Still, we need those becons that remind us that there is another way to be: freer, louder, stronger, brighter burning, effortlessly creative - you name it.

But there is a different kind of admiration and another type of hero - for me.

I go to the gym, here in the area, and it is a branch of YMCA. Every day I go, I see old women getting together for fitness classes and also frequenting the swimming pool. There are a few who are really quite old. A couple of them have to use walkers in order to move around. I watched one of them make it to the pool the other day and it took her a very long time until she was able to actually *be* in the pool, where she tread water back and forth for an hour - again, very slowly. I then saw her again - in the locker room - and she was all smiles. She could hardly walk and needed her walker for every step she took, but she told me how wonderful she felt after her workout. I asked her how often she came - she said it was 3-4 times a week. She came by herself because she wanted to stay independent, she said, and also took another fitness class with her friends. Then she laughed again and wished me a wonderful day.

That, to me, is being a hero. So many people, in her shoes, would not have a smile to spare, besides making a gigantic effort four times a week; the self discipline required to overcome her physical limitations must be enormous. And yet, there was no bitterness or self pity in this lady. I said to her: 'You are my hero'. And I meant it that day.

I find myself so often focusing not on what I have, but on what is missing. Perhaps for some people the glass is always half full by default, but I am not one of those people. However, it is also possible that it is an all-too-human trait to be aware of what we are missing and what we want. Maybe that is how progress is made - you find a vacuum and you fill it. But all too often I spin out of balance because all I see are potential pitfalls or limitations - and ways in which I am not, or do not have, or I can't or won't be able to, because... the list goes on.

That is why I find it so important to have heroes who are larger than life, but then also supplement that pantheon with regular people I meet along the way who achieve incredible feats with very little, save will power, discipline and intention.

Because it is really those people, like that lady at the gym, who make me feel grateful for all the bountiful things that are present in my life; for the progress made - even if sometimes it's at a crawling pace - for the tools I am given. For myself, even if I carry multiple bits of baggage and often feel rather imperfect. For being here, in this world, at this time, even if sometimes it can feel somewhat overwhelming.

My ability to stay present and grateful for what is may not be inbuilt, but I trust that through daily practice it will evolve, as all things do. And then I can sometimes be my own hero.

Yes.

I won't even begin to talk about my August and September. Saying that I am in transition is an understatement. September was marginally better than my August, but it also brought its storms and droughts.

That said, the music is flowing and I am leaving the summer of 2012 behind with all it had to teach me. I have also been journaling, rather faithfully, and writing down my dreams - most of them nightmares for the past two weeks, but still. There have been some interesting and less jarring ones, too.

My new site was delayed, but thanks to lovely accomplices, it is poised to launch now, as is the Beatrix story with its map.

One of the things I learned - again - is how important it is to be able to bend, flow, laugh and persevere. A perseverance of a kind that is not inflexible and can be shattered like a slab of stone, but more like water, which keeps on trickling and eventually wears away the hardest surfaces.

Today I am leaving for a couple of days, to spend some time looking at the vines, grasses and a lake under a full Harvest Moon and contemplating October, where I will do another local performance residency at the Witzend and keep on building.

And here is a song I dedicate to October. It is not spring and it is not March, but its lyrics speak to me now, so why not? I hope to keep its spirit throughout the month.

 

 

Waters of March

A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone

It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun

The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
The knot in the wood, the song of a thrush

The wood of the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all

It's the wind blowing free, it's the end of the slope
It's a beam, it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope

And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the end of the strain, It's the joy in your heart

The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
The beat of the road, a slingshot's stone

A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
A shot of a gun in the dead of the night

A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump,
It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps
.
The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud

A float, a drift, a flight, a wing
A hawk, a quail, oh, the promise of spring

And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart (repeat)

A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night

A pin, a needle, a sting, a pain
A snail, a riddle, a wasp, a stain

A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow

The bed of the well, the end of the line
The dismay on the face, it's a loss, it's a find

A spear, a spike, a point, a nail
A drip, drip, drip, drop, the end of the day

And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart (repeat)

,the end of the road,a little alone

A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A knife, a death, the end of the run

And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart

And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart

The waters of March,

And the river bank talks of the waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart


Read more: http://artists.letssingit.com/basia-lyrics-waters-of-march-px4dctn#ixzz27mwDLkxe 
LetsSingIt - Your favorite Music Community 

Anti-Lamentation

 
Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don't bother remembering
any of it. Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

Dorianne Laux

 

 

 

Rolling Stone - New Song, Video & Lyrics

So here it is:

 

Full interview version for when it premiered on Glamour.com can be read HERE.

 

Looked me in the eye

Made me feel so small

But you're the only one

who can see me at all

Is it who we are?

what am I to you?

Have we gone too far -

am I passing through?

 

I'm a rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling stone

Always moving, traveling, running all alone

I'm a rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling stone

 

Maybe I was born with a gypsy's soul

but I am not your girl, oh no

I don't play that role

I'm no mother, I'm no sister, I'm no lover

I am not your friend

I have built a home

but it's made of sand

 

I'm a rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling stone

Always moving, traveling, running all alone

I'm a rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling stone

 

Looked me in the eye

Made me feel so small

But you're the only one

who can see me at all...

NYC II

The City can't decide whether it wants it to rain or not. After the deluge of yesterday, it is still pondering, so I did get rained on a couple of times throughout the day, but it was very minor. All in all, I do prefer this weather to the stifling heat of yesterday.

Obviously it's all about me, so theretofore I brought the rain to NYC, didn't I? Anecdotal evidence: when I was in Austin, performing, we arrived to heat and three-month draught. Within 12 hours of my arrival, a thunderstorm came to pass (short, but effective), and the day was saved. 

Maybe not all my doing, but a girl can feel important: why not?

After getting rained on and finding refuge in a French bar:

I found shoes! Fortunately for me, it's sales season. Gloves, shoes, flower dress and NYC is my oyster...err... apple. Right??

Tomorrow is my performance and I am in the mood. Let's do this. Tonight I'll read some poetry and try to imagine what it is going to be like when I come and stay in NYC for a whole month, doing a residency - it's in the plans - being here certainly makes me want to dress up and strut a lot more than Los Angeles ever has. It could be dangerous! But life is short. Why not?

 

The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short; but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark.
(Michelangelo)

New Times Roll

I have been busy - finally on a roll and spending most of my time working on music, instead of moping or thinking of 'what ifs?' or 'if I had only' etc.

I pulled out some older songs and now I am adding bits and pieces to them - mostly vocal arrangements - but there will be others, like my first ever remixes and such.

I decided to do it in a semi-public kind of manner - my fans seem to appreciate being able to see the process. Perhaps some things need to only see light of day when they are exactly the way they should be - some songs are like that - but now that my actual record is out, I feel like *that* is the measure by which I may get judged - and so sharing things that are NOT quite perfect and are in progress is not only easier for me, but somewhat rewarding - working on music by yourself can get to be a lonely process.

Plus - I have so much music, so many songs, and so much material begging to see the light of day in one form or another. The old trick of announcing something so you create an expectation and a deadline for yourself does work. This way, when a song makes it out there and I announce that it is being worked on, in fact, now I *have* to do something about it. It is a good thing because it makes me finish things, rather than flit on to the next attraction.

Also, I am a perfectionist at heart. That means that oftentimes it is so easy for me to see/hear flaws in something I have made that just one more reason - and it will never see the light of day - or I will keep it back because something BETTER is on the way - or - well you know what I mean.

At this point in my life I am starting to see that some intelligent editing and holding back is certainly necessary - but I *have* reached a certain level of skill and quality. My songs, my music, my singing and other skills will always keep getting better with practice, time and persistent application. So holding material back because some day it will get so much BETTER - well, it was a valid reason five years ago, but not quite so much anymore.

Yesterday was a solar eclipse. A friend of mine who is a professional astrologer tells me it's a harbinger of New Times: letting of of the things that are no longer necessary or working in your life; situations that are holding you back, fears, even people who may no longer be your match.

I don't quite know what to make of it, but if it is true in any way I would like to welcome this new era with open arms. This time, instead of crying over my edition of Rilke's 'Letters To a Young Poet', I will be submerged in all things musical - whether at the piano, my computer, figuring out bits of new software for recording/arranging - playing guitar - mastering the looping machine (FINALLY!!!) - or wrestling down the Puccini aria I want to sing soon.

And I did a brand new cover! This one is a very subdued version of a Tears For Fears B side: Laid So Low (Tears Roll Down). I think I managed to imbue it with all the angst of the last few weeks. Perhaps it's best it stays there now...

This weekend I got to wear my Flower Boots. Yes. Perhaps I am going to make them a big part of this new era. Wouldn't you?

Stormy Ether

There must have been something going on recently in the collective unconscious of the world - the ether - or maybe the planets fighting each other for their respective astrological supremacy. Hard to say. But it was a harsh week.

Today is Saturday and a full moon - it feels better, though. I feel better. I didn't wake up anxious, as I had been doing for over a week, straining to understand why the invisible sounds of life's behind-the-scenes machinery were filling me with dread.

It is not raining. It is only raining in my poem below. But in fact, for the first time in days it is also a morning of generous sunshine without the sprinkling of the rain or marine layer rolling in at first light.

I found this old poem I wrote a while back.

I have not changed since then. Or have I? That is the question.

When I start going mad, I always turn to one man who will never leave my heart - Rainer Maria Rilke.

 

“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day".

 

 

I thought of you today.

The morning was covered by the blanket of rain

It was so sweet to lie there, half-asleep

and wonder, hazily, at the irony of life.

 

All my days, I am torn between

the safe haven, shining like a beacon

and the Grand Adventure.

But I am unable to give myself up

not for long anyway.

 

Who do you see, when you stare at me so?

A kind of saintly ghostly glow about me, perhaps

or maybe I represent a part of you

lost long ago; stillborn to this world.

 

The water on the roof was the Morse Code

I felt like I was close to knowing the answer.

There comes a time when all that matters

is being your own self, through and through.

 

And if I was with you, I know I would become

a better version of the girl I've only come to know.

No, not the girl: the woman.

I am no longer made of clay. I have been weathered,

beaten, burned and now I do not yield.

 

Your love is like the wind: it tugs; it beckons and embraces

I do not want the wind: I'd rather be with trees.

They stand there, waiting, until I come to them myself

and do not ever judge me.

(EIK, 2011)

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.