And the rest of August went something like this.

Strawberry ice cream flat root beer float.

Both ingredients are remnants of social gatherings I've had here at my bachelorette pad, and there's no decent way to get rid of them... so I've merely deferred to the indecent methods.

Speaking of indecent, hellooooooooooo not updating my blog for a month.

Here, before you read on, click "play" on this song I wrote. Then you can listen and read at once. It'll be magical.

Click here for lyrics and stuff

What happened in that time?

• First paying gig since May! Or so I believe, since I haven't yet received a check. If I don't, I guess I volunteered to play background music for a dinner party. (I guess it's not really in good form to report publicly that I haven't been paid yet, but, that's just the thing... here's a transparent look at how I'm growing from my experiences. /tangent)
  
• Played for the Delaware Friends of Folk coffeehouse. It was their second round of performers for the Delmarva Folk Hero contest. Michael said I should do it, so I did, and I did my darndest and I just didn't make it. Reasons I'm not disappointed: there's a lot of good performers in the area, I can't win everyone over, and I planned and played my absolute best. Anyway, I ran into my fellow FAWMer and songwriter Aaron Nathans, which was kinda cool, and I got a taste of how the open mics are run by the Delaware Friends of Folk. Plus I met a ton of cool folks, which I always try to do wherever I am and it's always a good time. Michael & Erin's duo, the Honey Badgers, were finalists from the first round so they'll be playing at the Delmarva Folk Festival in October. Yay!
  
• Played at Mojo Main's open mic a couple of times, which was snazzy. One night I brought the dulcimer onstage, which was pretty fun. ^^ Oh, my snapshot was also in the local paper... it's not in the online version, but they wrote an article about some of Delaware's open mics, and Mojo Main was featured (of course!). In my own humble estimation - this is one great open mic. I've played/run a few in my time...
  
• I lost all my guitar students. Yep. So. There's that. I know my role as a guitar teacher, and if I've got beginners I generally expect that they will discover more of their musical identity while studying with me; once they know who they are, they might find another teacher or program that fits better, or they might decide that a little bit is enough for now. As long as the decision's what's best for the student and the student's family (and as long as it's not because I stink), I'm a happy teacher.
  
• The timing of it, though, is impeccable... which is to say, I'm not sorry to have a little of my time back to focus on what I'm doing, at least for now. Looking into the fall is like looking into a smoke-filled room. Fragments and bits of opportunity are drifting around and it's hard to say what's going to happen. Some exciting and new stuff's over the horizon, though.
  
• Also I finally joined ReverbNation. Michael told me to do it at the end of July and I told him I'd look into doing it the next week. Better late than never!! I don't know how the rankings work but somehow I shot up to #19 for Newark, which is quite strange.
  

So, yep. Ready for September. The end of summer means fewer hours at work which means greater hours for music!! :)

The story behind the song: "Small Town Places"

I've been residing in Delaware a year and a half now. Yesterday, for the first time, I realized that I actually live here. Y'see, there's this thing called Rita's 'round these parts, and they give away free water ice on the first day of spring (which was yesterday). Despite growing up in what is essentially the rural Pennsylvanian suburbs of Newark, I never knew this 'till last year.

Not only did I enjoy free Rita's yesterday - every two seconds, it seemed like I was running into someone else I knew. People from church. People from work. People from meeting other people. Most of which I've only met within the last year.

It was really weird, coming back. If you asked me at 19 where I'd be when I grew up, I'da told you, "anywhere except there." It's not that I hated the place, there was just nothing to draw me back. Nothing, anyway, that overpowered the draw of wanderlust and the smell of adventure. As far as I was concerned, I'd seen everything to be seen.

College was adventure. Not knowing my way was adventure. Alaska and DC were an adventure. And developing a relationship with God, I finally found out, was the best adventure of all. Ironically, though, God called me back here. To go to a church that is two miles from where I grew up. God is funny like that. Whenever an area of pride gets broken down in me, I just laugh. It's absurd to be proud of anything in the face of a God that made everything.

During FAWM this year, I sat in the Eagle Diner on Elkton Road one night, having arrived early for want of a place to sit, drink coffee, and write. With a blank page before me, I began to stare blankly around the place, waiting for something to spill over from my mind into the notebook. As it turns out, there are these pencil sketches that adorn the walls of the Eagle. I've been going to this place nearly every Thursday for a year now, and though the sketches are for sale, not a one of them has ever sold. Probably because they're of random locations in a tiny little town, and to be honest, they're nobody's masterpiece.

But the poorly-rendered locations caught and snagged on a corner of my prickly little heart, and I realized that those places actually mean something to me. What's more, I wasn't as irritated about it as I thought I'd be - irritated at being stuck in a dinky little town with nothing to offer, when I could be wandering and boldly executing my life as I saw fit out in God-knows-where.

Instead, I'm here, and I'm happy, because there is an adventure to be lived here. Many adventures. With many people. Who are wonderful. And with God, who is also wonderful.





The Eagle Diner, according to recent reports, is slated to close on Monday, March 28th. Granted, it's been rumored to have been closing for the entire last year, but I think this is for reals. And I actually care about it, which is strange and wonderful in its own right. We had our FAWM Meet and Greet at the Eagle Diner. I met so many awesome people there. I honestly remember the first time I was invited to hang with folks there, which was a blessing in a painful time. Had so many late-night conversations, the kind that are deep and surprise you with how they sneak up on you. Got yelled at for being too loud. And I wrote this song there.


"Small Town Places" (click to listen)

Everything inside was screaming "run while you can";
you listened to the whisper whose small refrain was "stay."
There's never been a town where you imagined settling down;
"anywhere but here" is the prayer that you'd pray.

And now the small town places are hangin' on the wall,
places made of wherewithal and spit.
They're the landmarks on your tour of insanity du jour;
offered up the bullet and you bit.

You're a voice without a vision, firing cannons in the dark,
blindly aiming by the only light you see.
As cities throw their detritus of beams into the sky,
the country moon is watchin' all horizons bleed.

And now the small town places are hangin' on the wall,
sketches never bought or sold.
They're the X's on the map of your adventure and a half,
a tale that's not worth telling 'till it's told.

(interlude)

And now the small town places are passin' as you go,
familiar streets and old decrepit stores.
Occupying the real estate on the wall of things you can't escape,
and you don't think you mind it anymore.

You don't think you mind it anymore.

No, you don't really mind it anymore.

FAWM: going after inspiration... with a club.

Michael and I are trying to gather together Delaware (and Delaware-area) songwriters to participate in FAWM, or February Album Writing Month. It's a songwriting challenge; write 1 song every 2 days in February, you end up with 14 songs (about an album's worth).

I managed to complete this challenge last year, and it was amazing. I already had a good pile of songs, but most of my current original repertoire is a direct result of FAWM. The thing that snagged me about FAWM, and the thing that kept me going, was the supportive online community they've built up around it. FAWMers are great -- they come from all different countries and all types of musical backgrounds. They'll listen to your stuff online and give you honest, constructive feedback (if you like).

Online is good, but... I've always been big on community, and I've always been big on music. I don't think we'll ever be sorry we tried to bring together a group of local artists to encourage and hone one another. Nope. Never.

And that's why we're doin' it. Please consider becoming a part of this growing community of artists and songwriters, even if you don't think you can do FAWM.

For more info, check out this site that Michael threw together. Or check us out on facebook!

(Plus, you can watch me through the month of February as I tackle the challenge myself...)