This is Not Attractive

Quirky Questions that Matter...

2019-11-03T16:51:00.002+00:00

THESE ARE MY ANSWERS to the most INTERESTING INTERVIEW I have had so far. WHAT WOULD YOURS BE?

How did you meet your best friend?

I was about twelve and part of a group of girlfriends. One day a new girl came to school and I suggested we invite her into our group. However, another girl in the group objected. She wanted to leave the new girl out for the simple reason that she was new. I refused to let this happen and believing in the power of my own authority I said: “If she is not allowed in then I don't want to be part of this group either.” Unfortunately, that meant I was kicked out. I became best friends with the new girl but we both were bullied by the group as a result. It was not a good experience but I am still friends with her about thirty years later.

What’s your favorite cheesy pick-up line? Have you ever used it for real?

Has anybody ever told you that you have the most gorgeous hair?

I have used it on a total stranger with gorgeous red hair sitting on a park bench.

However when the guy smiled and said “No!” I became flustered and ran away!

What's the meaning of life?

There is no real meaning. The meaning of life is what we give it. For me,

it is about learning what reality is, what life is all about, and learning to find joy

in the simple things. It is about being able to look back on my death bed and knowing that I did not waste my life wallowing in fear but I lived my life to the fullest.

Favorite age you've been so far?

Ten. I used to write a story a day. I didn't care about much else.

What superpower would you like to have for a day?

I would love to have the power to step into somebody else's head for a day and live life as them. I want to know what it is like to be somebody else.

What would you tell your younger self?

You are loved. You belong. You can do anything you want. Only do what you love. Forget about other people's opinions. Believe in yourself. Go to music school!

Have you ever had a dream at night that later came true?

I once dreamed that an acquaintance (a friend of a friend I had met twice ) was thinking of committing suicide. I woke up and since this was way before the internet and I was living in Italy while this man was living in New Zealand, I wrote a poem and sent it to him trying to stop him from ending his life. After a couple of years, I met him again at a party in New Zealand. After making sure we were alone he asked me: how did you know?

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I stopped writing on this blog when I discovered my mother was reading it...

2019-11-02T13:25:00.001+00:00

And now 5 years later, here I am again. STILL ALIVE. Just.

I am about to publish my first book. I am about to publish my 11th? 12th? album. I actually don't remember the number anymore. I know, it sounds wanky. The reality is... I actually have stopped counting. Because it doesn't really matter does it?

I mean... a long time ago, or maybe not so long ago I used to write music in the hope that I would be famous someday. I have now given up that idea. Not only I have realized that this world is not a meritocracy but I also realized that it's absolute madness to put your self-worth into someone else's hands.

Why should some stranger's opinion be more valuable to me than my own? That is madness! The trouble is, my own opinion of myself, for many years, depended on other people's approval. That is why it was so important to 'succeed' - that is - win as many people's approval as possible.

All I really wanted was a good pat on the shoulder, a million copies of the album sold, a big applause on TV. Something like that. And when it didn't come, mainly because I didn't really try to push my music, I thought it must be because I was just not good enough.

Sounds familiar? What a bore! This is the story of so many of us... and it is so sad to strive for something like this because this approval is NEVER going to come from the outside. You just have to stop trying to get it and you have to give it to yourself, regardless.

So now I have given up. All I really want is to create. To make more music. To make better music. To play it WITH people I like. To have some fun! Life is too short to care about 'making it'. What if making it actually means being happy doing what you do? What if we made space for that, instead of constantly striving to get more likes on FB, Instagram and twitter?

Even if you are an 'influencer' or you have a million followers, what really matters is whether you have a real friend with whom to share the sheer joy of being alive.

NYC Day 2-9

2016-03-17T20:57:00.003+00:00

So ten days or so have passed since the beginning of this trip to shape my upcoming Fringe Show "Front Line" with Director Yana Landowne and it’s all a blur. It feels like I arrived in NYC a month ago, and I have to check my calendar to remember all that has happened. I don’t think my brain can process information as fast as the pace required in this city that never sleeps. So now I am in the airport, waiting to board my plane back to Edinburgh and It all feels very very weird. I have a ton of photos and videos that have been shot, and will try to do my best to follow my journey.

DAY 2

So on the second day at Yana’s we rehearse for three hours and immediately afterwards we leave to go to a restaurant where we drink Prosecco and eat oysters (my first time ever!).

It is very classy and tasty and hip but doesn’t cost a bomb because it’s happy hour…

After a healthy dose of fish Yana has to take a phone call and while she talks we walk to one of her director friends theatre (Kristin Marting) where we see a couple of play previews. I get tipsy easily and compounded with the jet leg and the dullness of the first play’s subject matter I have to fight hard to stay awake ( the play “Elements” is about mathematics… zzz) . I try not to be rude and clap even though I have hated every minute of it, but force my eyes open for the second play. This one seems a lot more interesting. It features clones, camera effects that stretch the two characters into infinity and lights that trap them into imaginary cages. I am fascinated by the fact that all of this can be achieved with just two i-phones taking videos of the performance at each side of the stage. The event is called “Culturemart 2016” by “Here” and the plays are “Elements” by Lainie Fefferman and “Assembled Identity” by Purva Bedi, Kristin Marting and Mariana Newhard.

Afterwards we meet the Assembled Identity director Kristin for some feedback (this is just a preview), a playwright (whose name I forget) and an actor (friends of Yana’s) at the bar while I try to keep myself awake and social… (I am still suffering from jet leg and lack of sleep due to late nights and getting used to sleeping with sirens going off during the night).

A couple of drinks later we’re off to walk the city, visiting little Italy and Chinatown. It turns out the latter has been taking over little Italy, and I can see that the Italian former glory has turned into a bit of a tacky tourist attraction rather than an authentic thriving suburb… (sigh).

Although it’s quite late by now we keep on walking through the Village all the way to UCB (Upright Citizen’s Brigade ) headquarters to see a show by an Improv team trained by them. I must say despite really looking forward to this both me and Yana are disappointed. My Improv friends in Edinburgh are actually funnier than these people… as I find their style of party monologues a bit bland and boring… and they are guilty of the “talking heads” syndrome which consists in forgetting that the craft of acting is very much about the body! (I am harsh I know but that’s nobody wants to see a talking head)

Past midnight we venture back home and take the subway back to Brooklyn, arriving an hour later and crashing for the night like a sack of potatoes on the floor.

DAY 3

After an okish night sleep (I am now taking sleeping pills to nod off because there is no way I can survive without sleeping and it’s a real challenge to fall asleep to loud sirens and snoring) I wake up to an empty apartment as Yana has had to wake up early to go to work.

I take advantage of it to do my morning yoga and publish my first day blog amongst numerous technological difficulties… I long for laziness but know that I must do a lot more than nothing. Amongst other things I have to rehearse the play’s songs and after some procrastination I do it but in a very rushed manner I confess… because I need to pack again to dash across town to Heather’s apartment in Queens. Yana’s apartment is quite small and her flatmate has told us she rather we left after three days so we are going to stay at Heather’s.

Logging a very heavy wooden guitar case, my backpack and another suitcase I get back on the subway for 1 hour and try not to fuck up my journey following very detailed instructions to Heather’s house. For my first solo ride I do remarkably well.

It turns out Heather’s suburb is heavy in constructions. Gentrification is rampant here where new investors are buying old buildings, tearing them apart, rebuilding and raising rents, thereby forcing old tenants to move out of the city. This is because it takes about 15 minutes of train time from here to Manhattan and it’s very convenient for tourists as well as residents to live here. It also turns out that 45th street is a very common movie location because of the ‘old’ fashioned building style…

As soon as I put down my luggage at Heather’s we have to dash off again back on the subway (I am not too thrilled but there you go) to go to “Materials for the arts”, a very cool wharehouse where arts organizations can come to claim recycled materials ranging from computer equipment to office furniture to books to textiles for use in artistic projects. I find lots of very cool editions of classic writers here and if I lived in NY it would be amazing to have these copies but alas I cannot lug this back to the continent!

Strangely enough though I find a book in Italian (!!!) about a famous spirit medium as well as a usb disk and a silver bookmark which I decide to keep for myself and bring home as a gift. Heather finds lots of stuff and we log it all on a massive trolley.

After getting a cab using a phone app that can track the position of cabs in real time as they approach your location (amazing uh?) we drop off the materials at a friend’s of Heather where they’ve been filming for the last few days and we get back home where we meet with Yana and proceed to go to a nearby bar for a cup of coffee and grocery shopping. The café is very cool and has a back room where you can put quality records on while sipping your favourite beverage.

An hour or so later we’re back home and off again to see another play, called “Opaline- a delirium for a parched planet” by Fengar Gael (another of Yana’s friends). This play is all about Abisinthe and the goddess Circe and it’s set in England in some unknown Monty Pithonish era where everyone speaks with a posh accent. It’s weird being in America watching American actors speak British English. Afterwards we talk to the playwright and drink a couple of glasses of champagne at the “Secret theatre” while I try to explain to Fengar the concept of our play. I feel rather awkward giving my ‘pitch’ but I know this is good practice for the Fringe…

Back home the night is far from over. Despite being very ready for bed we proceed to smoke some weed and try on costumes both for the “Brides of March” (description to follow) and for the play photo shoot which is to take place later in the week while Heather is busy sewing veils and providing assistance with wardrobe selection. She has an amazing closet with all sorts of clothes from two decades of collecting and in there you can find any kind of accessory you can dream of. She also has a system of lights controlled with her apple watch, and can recreate any lighting atmosphere from pictures she has taken or downloaded from the internet with the touch of a button (or by speaking directly to her watch). I am impressed. And I thought I was a bit of a tech geek…!

I try on various outfits and try to remain awake chirpy and creative but eventually cave in and finally reach the floor around 3 am when we turn in…

DAY 4

After a very bad night sleep I wake up grumpy and very tired. Not a good start. I try to get myself together and we spend several hours rehearsing in Heather’s backyard until we annoy the neighbours with my loud singing… and we are told we have to stop. Yana has to go to work anyway and I am done, so while she does that I spend several hours on the couch correcting the script and adding stage directions. By dinnertime I finish and unfortunately have to cancel an Improv class I had signed up for at the Magnet theatre because there just isn’t enough time in the day!

We decide to go out for dinner at a very cool macrobiotic café restaurant and walk around bar hopping… Heather and Yana want to show me all the cool places and the nightlife so we poke our heads in various bars, including a very cool Japanese hang out which is too full for us to enter, an ex nail bar where we see one of the most bizarre and hilarious comedians I have ever heard (Blair Saki or Sockey), and finish the night in the East Village talking to a guy who turns out to be a really cool painter type who reminds me (both in character and looks) of another American artist friend I met in New Zeland 15 years ago… random! The bar is called, very aptly “Night of Joy” and it’s advertised by one of my favourite Tarot Cards on one of the outside walls “The High Priestess” (see picture).

We return home a little tipsy having drunk numerous cocktails and quite happy.

DAY 5

Oh this is a big day. We wake later than usual (I guess we were all very tired) and have to rush to get to the “Brides of March” meeting in time. This is something that started as an annual Cacophony Society event that takes place in San Francisco (and other cities around the US and Canada) around March 15th. Intended as a pun on the term “Ides of March” (the date of the assassination of Julius Ceasar in 44 BC ) and a parody of weddings in western culture it apparently began in 1999 as part pub crawl and part street theater, where brides of either gender wear thrift store wedding dresses.

Unfortunately we are late and miss the brunch start at a restaurant somewhere in the city so we are forced to wander around town trying to find them. The task proves difficult because apparently the other brides are not checking their phones and we have to rely on facebook updates to try and catch them. We finally find out they are on the Staten Island ferry so we jump aboard with some frozen margaritas disguised as coke and find them at the terminal bar. Here we are given some salt and a ‘envisioning spell’ as well as rough instructions on how to carry it out. I dream of fame and fortune for the play and put it out to the universe only to realize later that such goals are silly, and that really what I should aim for is to just to have fun and to perform the best I can.

After getting back to the mainland and before we hop to another bar we detour to Battery Park where we experience one of the highlights of the day, which is riding on a very cute carousel with golden fish and adults and children alike. Afterwards the brides proceed to get quite drunk at a bar in Manhattan where most of them are happy to dance and sing to an expensive jukebox while talking to the random strangers that are not terrified by our attires.

Most of the afternoon is spent taking pictures, smoking pot, drinking and generally frolicking. I am not really a drinker and my dress is mighty uncomfortable and it happens to also be too cold for my liking (I forgot my leather jacket at home duh!) so I must admit there is a point where I have had enough and just long for comfy attire, a bed and a movie, but have to endure my discomfort and ‘suck it up’…

The plan is to join another party of dress-ups who apparently are going to play bowling all dressed as David Bowie so after waiting and pacing myself for hours so I don’t get too drunk or too tired or too grumpy we finally get a cab to the bowling alley but – to our surprise – the place is hell. Contrary to our expectations the alley is not a cool rock and roll hang out but rather a very tacky mainstream place with screens everywhere displaying bad music videos and sports reports. The party degenerates into a bit of a scene where people either split or have disagreements and after a prolonged wait and see we end up leaving too.

The Brides on the Carousel

The Brides at Night swinging in the children's park

DAY 6

Because of not being able to use Heather’s backyard as a rehearsal space due to her car being injured and needing to come a safe familiar space Yana and I go to the park carrying all our props (including a chair) and start rehearsal there. In the middle of the show a girl called Alaa comes and sits down to watch. I wonder if I am going to panic but manage to stay calm and focussed and I am happy at the results. This is my first official public viewing !

Afterwards we invite her to the “Art Tea Salon” event that Heather and Yana have organized back at the house. It turns out Alaa is from the middle east in New York to find inspiration for her first novel so it seems apt to let her join us. Back at the house we meet with various artists including Jamie Leo (painter and sculptor, playright, song writer, artistic director) Brian Hornby (inventor) , and Carol Crump , all members of the “Calling all parties” Art Collective Yana and Heather Woofdield (film maker, interdisciplinary arts) are part of. We engage in interesting and stimulating conversation, exploring our motives for doing art, and our future dreams and objectives as well as discussing challenges on the way.

Afterwards Yana and I go to town to a meeting for the 10th Annual Dance Parade and Festival “Decade of Dance” which Yana helped organize. This is a massive street parade that brings together people from all walks of life as well as race and nationality. The meeting showcases some of the talent among which I see amazing performances. After the showcase funky music ignites my soul and body and I dance with a huge grin on my face with people from all over the world, including all ladies who aren’t afraid to boogie! I feel suddenly full of energy and make an impression - it seems - on various people who ask for my phone number ( a girl even throws her card at me later when I am about to get into a cab in a true New York moment – she must have though I was a VIP or something, perhaps due to my guitar case…) I enjoy the momentary popularity and don’t do much to dispel the illusion…. and back at Yana’s apartment I reward myself by immersing my feet into a bucket of warm water wearing a silly hat on my head.

Beautiful fusion dancers at the Party

DAY 7

This is the day we are supposed to do the poster photo-shoot but the photographer doesn’t show up and we spend a while trying to find a space to rent for rehearsal and for shooting video and photos ourselves. We end up finding a dance space in Brooklyn but after three hours of rehearsing we end up with not much usable material. My camera’s battery has unexpectedly run out after 1 hour and it’s just not easy to shoot material and perform at the same time. We end up just rehearsing and working on the script.

I feel I have a long way to go to make this material performance ready but Yana seems to believe I can do it and it’s only a matter of time and practice. She is pretty amazing at her job. Unfortunately we get the time wrong (daylight savings clock mistake) and we are kicked out of the space too early and have to rush across town to another of Yana rehearsals where I am asked to perform in front of two teenagers since one of my characters is a teenager and so this is a good opportunity to observe and be observed.

Afterwards it’s time to go to Sidewalk Café where we are going to sign up for an open mic which is supposed to be cool. We get there at 7:30 and learn that it is rather different from what I am used to in Edinburgh. Within minutes there are so many people all around us the bar is packed. We quickly learn that it doesn’t matter at what time you have shown up; at 8 the mc gets on stage and announces that the order of playing will depend on the ‘lottery’ number we are assigned. So we all get in line and wait.

If feels like some TV contest where young aspiring stars are hopeful to be discovered. I admit I feel a bit silly. I get number 48 which at first I assume is good but little do I know: three hours later we are only 16 people through, of which only 3 are of passable quality. Add to it that the MC is in love with herself and is pretty damn mediocre at her craft, taking advantage of the fact that apparently she’s been on the scene for three decades and probably once played on the same stage as Bob Dylan (or someone like him given her very derivative style) by playing too many of her songs and giving more playing space to her favourite friends. I am exhausted, pissed off at how ridiculously long this is taking, at the overpriced bar food and feel like punching the MC for her self indulgence. I decide to bugger off home. It’s just not worth it.

On the way back home we amuse ourselves by taking pictures next to the graffiti that adorn storage containers along the streets (some of these have apparently been here forever) and in the subway. I am so tired I almost fall asleep hugging my guitar on the train.

DAY 8

This is the last day before my departure and it’s also the deadline for the Fringe registration so I spend the morning trying to sort out the application form for that. Do some yoga, try to think of what picture to use but around 3 o clock I decide I better get out of the house because otherwise I won’t get to see Central Park and it’s one of the things I wanted to not to miss before leaving. The next few hours are spent getting there, walking for two hours in the park and then down to Times Square where I am appalled by the insanity of the place. I cannot understand why people would want to be inundated by advertising and actually come here for it. Nevertheless it is an experience I am glad I have not missed, if nothing else for its anthropological worth. Apparently New Yorkers avoid this place, much as a lot of Romans avoid the Colosseum.

I come back home to Yana and Heather’s and we spend the evening filling in forms as well as taking pictures for the Fringe poster. We get some good ideas and manage to send everything within minutes of the final deadline. Phew!

The rest of the time is spent packing before bedtime.

Times Square Madness

DAY 9

And this brings me to my departure. We run through the play once again and today I realize what a steep learning curve is ahead of me. I know there’s still a lot of work to be done before I can say the show will be ready for the public. But the commitment is there and both Yana and I will do all we need to keep the momentum going and perform to the best of our abilities. I have chosen to challenge myself and push myself out of my comfort zone because that is the only way to grow. So I decide to push away my fears and my self doubt and enjoy the process of learning!

Also, if before I had fantasies of moving to NYC I now am pretty sure I would not thrive here, if nothing else because the pace is too much for me. In as much as I love how ‘loud’ New Yorkers seem to be and how open to just talking to anyone, and in as much as I really appreciate how everyone is from somewhere else here and yet they all seem to be able to share this place together, I am not really a city girl. I long for the reflection and the peace of the countryside and need silent spaces and quiet places to go within and hear my inner voice. I love nature too much to only survive on human made culture and the thought of going home to Edinburgh to a slower pace of living seems appealing.

Thank you everyone who have made this trip possible. I want to finish with a a quote I found on a sticker I was given at the Sidewalk Café:

The social responsibility of the artist is to survive and nibble away at society’s thick hide with love and sharp teeth. Amen.

The Subway to the airport

Day 1 in NYC

2016-03-10T17:38:00.002+00:00

This trip has been long in the making. It all started two years ago, in a street near my home in Edinburgh during the 2014 Fringe. While waiting in a cue to see a clown show I struck a conversation with a very colourful lady who struck me as very different from the crowd. She had a broad smile and a open energy about her as well as a congenial dress sense.

I wouldn't have made much of it if it weren't for the fact that I kept bumping into her at shows and finally at my house, as it turned out she had made friends with my then troubador musician flatmate Danny Mullins.

It was friendship at first sight, and very soon I found myself skyping Yana, who turned out was part of a NY art collective as well as a NY director and lovely person extraordinnaire. Soon I also learned that we shared similar asthetics as well as ethics and artistic vision. It didnt take long to figure we wanted to work together, but it did take a while to figure out doing what.

Back in 2014 I was doing a show with my then band "Elyssa Vulpes and The Betes Noires". The idea was to merge theatre and music and I ventured to write a play which it turned out, was just not up to the mark. The first day of the fringe I decided to scrap it and improvise instead. It was an arrowing experience that effectively split the band and almost put me off the fringe for life. But I decided to learn from the experience and it turned out the valuable lesson was that I needed help, specifically, I needed the help of an expert outside eye: Yana.

Despite this when Yana asked me to write something for her during the summer of 2015 I didn't really think of recycling my attempt at merging genres from 2014. I began writing a play set in NYC and was halfway through when it struck me that although this was a project worth doing there was something else I needed to do first: finish what I started and this time pull it off well.

So I started putting it all together while visiting friends and family in New Zealand during the Xmas season and six drafts later here I am, in NYC, finally rehearsing it in person with Yana.

DAY 1 : I arrived in Newark after a 7 hour trip from Edinburgh.Her apartment struck me as beautifully bohemian and colourful, just like her personality. Vintage clothes, Tarot cards, healthy foods and drinks, obscure music in the heart of a West Indian and Hasidic Jews neighbourhood in Brooklyn. The writing on the building I could see from my window said: Gates of Righteousness...

The first thing I noticed was the loudness of everything: police and ambulance sirens, music from getto blasters just like in the movies as well as gospel singing from the church nearby.

After a good night sleep on a vintage sofa and some morning Yoga in the kind of heat we dream of in Edinburgh even during summer (20+ degrees) I found out that all the things Id seen in movies about this city are actually true.

First of all I ventured out and got cat called several times by strange men who called me baby and commented on my apparently extraordinary beauty (I wonder if it ever works out for them, though I must say in some strange way it made me feel good, but that might be my Italian heritage)

Then I went down the subway and saw two Anti-terrorist-squad cops escorting out a mentally ill homeless man while people watched with disapproval. I doubted this man could be capable of any terrorist act but there you go.

After navigating a rather complicated subway system where you are bound to get lost without careful instructions by locals (thanks Yana) I got out at Bowling Green and given the day's gorgeousness I went to Battery Park where I decided against taking a ferry to see the Statue of Liberty given the awfully overpriced ticket and the sheer tackiness of the organized trip. I contented myself with seeing statue from afar and got reassured a better way to see it is to take the free Staten island ferry just like a New Yorker would.

The plus side of being there was the opportunity to witness a street performance by some break dancers who really surprised me with their extreme strentght and agility. Just like in the movies...

After watching them I proceeded to the American Indian Museum where Yana suggested I go to get introduced to the history of this country. Unfortunately though I got stuck with a guide who told me all about the building for an hour and a half and by the end of it I was too tired to really pay much attention to the actual exhibition, and given that the day was still beautiful I decided to get onto Broadway in Manhattan where I could explore the financial district, where economic history gets crafted for better or worse...

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Grand Central

I didnt know this, but apparently Wall Street was called that way because there used to be a wall there that separated the "civilized" part of town (the south, downtown) from the north. That is why the financial district has such narrow streets and is overdeveloped vertically. Another reason is that the soil is rock based and can handle skyscrapers while further up the island this would be impossible. Broadway is the street that cuts this lower part of Manhattan in half and it is a bit peculiar in that it is not part of the grid that makes up the rest of this part of town, with avenues going up and down and streets cutting the city across horizontally.

I could feel the vibe here being quite different from the part of Brooklyn Yana lives, very much about money, work and status, with golden writing marking the different buildings and people dressed to impress. Her neighbourhood is instead very down to earth working class and we were the only white people to be seen except for some hasidic Jews.

Since I had an appointment with Yana at Grand Central I took the subway again and found myself in a very grand station covered in marble and fancy lights and sporting a very cool but overpriced underground market.

From here we proceeded to another part of town of which I frankly cannot recall the name, where Yana had us volunteer for International Women's day. A friend of hers had organized a very cool event sporting various organizations from around the world who help women and advocate for women's rights.

this a a beautiful skylight at the America Indian Museum once Custom House

A Staircase at the Museum

As part of the celebrations we witnessed a beautiful violinist performing with a sequin dress and an amazing violin made of light, various models getting photographed with pro-choice signs, a tissue dancer who hung upside down in all sorts of formations from the ceiling, a crew of all female accordionists that made me feel like we were back in Austria, a crew of all female drummers who reminded me of the Beltane Beasties in Edinburgh and finally a cool DJ who rocked the dance floor till the wee hours of the night.

straining my neck...

I wished that I could have had a whole photoshoot in this place because it was just as glam as you can get. Check out the decor ! I was also given a memento of this day, a flower from Colombia, made by women who (surprise surprise) are underpaid.

The day was topped by two hilarious comedians (women of course) who saved the day when things got a bit messy during the variety show and reminded me of the stupidity of those who say women cant be funny!

The house of Yes

One of the toilet walls!

Falling in love @ the Fringe is not a good idea. Or is it?

2014-08-04T14:03:00.002+01:00

Well, there you go. They do say when you never expect it... But I never thought that would be me.

All year round I spend the majority of my time in this wonderful city, Edinburgh, looking for some signs of intelligent male life forms that will also be pleasing to the eye but me being very very picky well... I often miserably fail .

However when Fringe time comes the city population triplicates and of all these people most of them are artists trying to 'make it" at the Fringe. Chances are there would be one that fits the bill.

Trouble is this year there was. Believe it or not I did find my perfect fit on the very first day of the fringe. The guy was almost too wonderful to be true: smart, funny, interested in the same things, sociable, into me and attractive too! Impossible !

Well we hit it off immediately and went on to have a great few days together. We got on like a house on fire and well, before I knew it found myself on fire for him myself....

BUT. There is a but.

The opening song of my show "Hell is where the heart is" is called "Where have all the good guys gone?" This is a question that plagues me constantly. The answer is that these guys are gone in the arms of someone else who was luckier /cleverer/ in the right place at the right time and got to the prize first. Yes, alas, the perfect match was already taken.

So what do you do when your heart is broken (again) and your show is about having your heart broken (again and again and again) ? Well they do say there is no art without suffering and that the best artists are the miserable ones... so there, that would explain why my last two shows were such a success !

Ah -ah. Great. Yuppieee

So what can I say... Thank you life for being such a cruel jokester ! The joke's on me (of course) but I guess that s what makes it funny innit ?

Oh the price we pay for entertainment.... :p

Vote to Stop Queen Victoria from needlessly ruining the lives of Thousands !

2014-03-06T08:33:00.002+00:00

Have a look at my music video "The Ballad of Queen Victoria"!
I have until tomorrow to convince Paloma Faith from Launching People UK to help us shoot this video in the coolest of ways and with a professional team, so if you like the project please support me !!

It only takes a couple of minutes to do so and Ill be your best friend forever ... swear !

Basically you ll need to click on the support button until it goes grey (this might mean twice or more) otherwise your vote won't count... I know, it's dumb and annoying but it's the way they ve set it up.... this are the step by step instructions in case you get lost... THANK YOUUUUUUUUU!!!!!

1) first you click on this https://apps.facebook.com/launching-people-uk/project/the-ballad-of-queen-victoria
2) then you need to click on SUPPORT ME
3) then you need to click on CONNECT to FACEBOOK
4) then you need to click OK on "launching people uk will receive the following info…" (don't worry you can always disable the app later)
5) now : IMPORTANT : you will be redirected onto their general page so you need to click again on https://apps.facebook.com/launching-people-uk/project/the-ballad-of-queen-victoria and click SUPPORT AGAIN.

PLEASE DO IT NOW, THE DEADLINE IS the 6th of MARCH….

And so I did it

2014-02-13T10:13:00.001+00:00

Taking courage in both hands... this is what we say in Italy. The meaning is rather obvious is it not?
Sometimes you gotta wait til you feel high and strong to be able to make a difficult decision. You know that later you will have your weak moments but if you do it when you feel on top of the world you are operating from the vantage point of having all the resources to deal with the upcoming difficulties. You sort of feel like you 'll be ok, and that gives you the strength to go with the right path for you even though it is scary.

So I did it. I waited til I felt on top of the world, after a gig. And it seemed easier. Later I still had to pay the consequences and felt like crap for a while but at least I wasn't in Limbo anymore and deep inside I knew I had done the right thing.

A few days have now passed and I have had my moments of insecurity and tears. I have felt like nothing ever changes and that I am always falling into the same patterns. But then I picked myself up: I was a tad catastrophizing (my new favourite word) and wasn't really looking at reality with a neutral lens.

If I look at the past whenever I felt rejected by people I realized that that person was not right for me. At the time I could see it but later I thanked the universe for not allowing me to go further in their company. So these days I tell myself that I don't want to be with anyone who doesn't want me. What would be the point in that ? If it's just to prove the point that I am a worthwhile as a person I am going to be defeated. It's like saying : I want this person to like chocolate so I can say that chocolate is good because I am secretly fearful that it might not be . The result is the person still doesn't like chocolate and never will and your worst fears shall be confirmed, not because they are real but because the premise you are working from is fundamentally flawed: that is the meaning of self fulfilling prophecy.

So that's that. Feel the fear and do it anyway. Expect the best and accept the rest. Forget the past and jump.
x

Reflections on memory...

2014-02-10T00:31:00.001+00:00

Memory. Identity. A story. Are you your story ? If so, what happens when you forget it ? What if you ever do ? Are you gone or is it still you ? Memory is so crucial because it helps us define who we are. And yet we are more than a sequence of past events. We still live in the present when our memory is gone.

Love. What happens to love when we cannot remember who we loved yesterday ? and if love is gone too, how much it is just memory, past association to pleasure and attachment to dreams of future pleasure ? Could we still love without a memory ?

So much of our lives is dependant on memory. Losing it is worse than losing a limb. But for whom is it worse ? Those who lose it or those who watch us lose it ? If you cannot remember what you have forgotten it is certainly confusing but not as bad as watching someone forget they ever knew you. That is like erasing years of loving care with one swipe and it must hurt like nothing else.

I always find it mind boggling how we take our bodies for granted. We are our bodies, and that does include the mind. We are a thinking feeling machine, and when the machine breaks down where do we go ? Are we still there ? Just think of when you had a high fever and you started thinking weirdly and having delirious dreams. You possibly werent even feeling like yourself, whatever that means (dependant on the memory you had of you before the fever) and certainly did not feel in control of your mind or body. What does that tell you about your identity ?

It seems to me that what we experience as ourselves is both a miracle and an illusion. There is no such thing as a permanent real me. There is just a flux of ever changing consciousness which is dependant on our bodily state at any given moment (over which we do have some control ) until something temporarily or permanently damages the machine and we fall ill or die.

So perhaps we should just marvel at this strange manifestation of life we happen to embody and enjoy it while it lasts. You never know when it s going to change or end...

Waiting

2014-02-07T10:55:00.000+00:00

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
Like a piece of paper by the side of road, tossed in the wind.
Like Xmas in September and the summer holidays in the depth of winter.
Waiting for a time when it will all be all right. Except it won't. There's always something, always an obstacle. Patience, I am told. But life doesn't wait for anyone. Another day is gone and I could be dead, I could be walking in a different direction, I could be feeling happy. Anything could happen. What I don't want is this feeling of waiting, of being stuck in limbo, of hoping the emptiness will give way to something alive soon, but a voice tells me to let it go: you don't want to spend today sleeping only to wake up when it really is too late and find that all is left is a bitter cry for all that you left waiting for too long.

I am sick of tomorrow. What about today ? Are you too busy to live ? You seem too busy to love. You are too busy, always too busy. Should I make an appointment now, but be ready for the last minute revocation ? You never know, there might be something more important lurking in the corner.

All this waiting is too close to home. It reminds me of winter nights lost in a fog of confusion waiting for an answer that would never come. Inside my skin I could feel that answer crawl like a beetle, and its ugly head would turn when I least expected it and I would know the bitter truth in an instant of clarity.

I cannot do this anymore. And yet the alternative is to lose the little I have. All or nothing ! I know it's not reasonable but it feels like selling myself short. Like I am some sort of commodity. Like I am a casual gift. Some thing to enjoy and think about later with fondness while it lives its life without you.

It's not like I am not capable of lightness. I have been and continue to be. But this is different. I guess I wanted it to be different. I guess there's something about it that triggers the pain.

So there we go again. I am sad because something is dying and was never born. It's like a romantic miscarriage. All the could bes have become an aborted fetus and though it's hardly formed I could hear its heartbeat and I had begun to love it a little and it's hard to let it go, say goodbye, accept it's just not the right time. Everything in me wanted to give it a chance, and yet it died. It is dying as we speak.

And so I feel sad, I feel rage, I feel hurt, I feel lonely. And there's nothing I can do about it. I can only accept it and hope some sort of action makes itself clear soon. I wish I could tell you all this, but I don't think I can without influencing events in some sort of negative direction. So perhaps I will have to bear the silence for now, and hold in the words until I know exactly what should be said.

morning thoughts

2014-01-28T11:14:00.000+00:00

rain on the horizon. dripping down like tears over unknown hopes. Incubating days of sorrow and joy . Leaving a trace that can hardly be found. When all is covered in a tick mantle of grey the branches salute the sky unheard.Their prayers reach up and meet the blank stares of tourists watching for interesting events to take them away from the blandness. Fallen into a long tunnel of expectations I wonder searching for the way out. nothing personal, I am told. all is fiction. So I search through the lines trying to decipher the hidden references to facts known to me but the dust seeps through my fingers and falls at my feet forming patterns I fail to recognize. The poet is depressed, standing on the top of the hill looking down. He can only see me through a curtained veil. The light is dim and he can just make out the shape but I am shifting, ready to move on. The shadow is fleeting, just like the hours and you gotta catch them when you see them. the gypsy travels on in some faraway land of the imagination and the spinner spins and waits to cut that thread when the time is ripe. The walker walks down the lane, cutting the park in half, balancing on the white line in the middle. A lady with a dog passes by and doesn't understand. She looks puzzled, watching from the sidelines where she s always been. The lover sighs and wishes for another embrace, wondering when it will shine its healing light . Beauty awaits in a shady corner unseen by most.

Bullshit and Parachutes

2014-01-20T22:32:00.001+00:00

Unfinished business. That smug way of behaving really gets on my nerves. I know I haven't really ever voiced my anger and so it goes unsaid every time. It builds and builds but I don't care enough to really air it, because it would require so much effort and unless I see him it's out of my mind. But every time I do it is a subtle annoying presence between us. I just resent the way he presents himself as a wise guy with the right answer to things, while in reality he doesn't have a fucking clue. Today he made up a poem on the spot and it was about how we all wear masks and why do we do that. At the end of the poem I suggested it might be fear. The response was fierce: well, that s certainly NOT the answer. mmm. interesting I thought. What a passionate response to a simple remark. As soon as he said those words I felt intense heat come into my chest. I wanted to answer : how could you possibly talk about masks, assuming everyone is wearing one and hiding parts of themselves when it's you who is doing it, you ! And you play big coach, big man who can guide others but you are unable to communicate simple stuff that a decent man would go for. I hate this business of pretending everything is all right, leaving things unsaid when you can just be clear get over it. I can deal with the truth mate, I just hate bullshit is all. But I get it. Maybe you just cannot be bothered with me, like I can't with you. It's sad really, but maybe it's the truth.

On other news: Last night I dreamed I was on a parachute with my father and mother. We set off from the top of a mountain over a canyon and just descended all the way down to a nice german cafe in the middle of nowhere. There was harmony everywhere and we were happy.

I guess for every downer there's an upper.

x

Venus retrograde

2014-01-11T09:27:00.001+00:00

This morning I feel sad. Woke up from a disturbing dream. I felt left out , while everyone else around me was getting involved with family, evenings out, a busy life. I was angry in my dream because it was easier to experience that emotion rather than anger.

I know Venus is in retrograde, my friend told me so yesterday. Apparently it means that these are threacherous times when it comes to romantic entanglements. There are two more weeks of it to come. So the advice is, stay away from lust fuelled beginnings of new relationships and also beware of the tendency to idolize past lovers. Tick, tick.

I feel confused. A lot going on and yet it's all a bit messy. I know the solution is to just hang in there and let things pan out the way they will. I guess my naive self just wanted instant solutions, big explosions in the sky, a new mind blowing beginning. But this is the child speaking inside of me. I guess the adult knows better.

Today I want to close the door on being there just for others. Today I want to be alone with myself and play lots of music. I want to play drums, I want to play with my new synth, I want to play guitar. I want to let this melancholic feeling be washed away by music.

I guess I will explore the fear through this medium, the fear of being left behind, and stay with the reality of the unknown. I need to explore a crossroads soon. The time has really come for that. No more letting the unconscious rule unchecked. It is time to find out what I really want and seek that vision, any way I can.

Oh, and by the way, I was just finishing writing this and get this in my mailbox about Pele Astrology report, it seems rather fitting :

We’re all diving down into the underworld of our unfelt feelings these next couple weeks. Let it up and let it out and don’t make it too real. This period can best be described as “weird” so don’t get too “weirded out”! I suggest it is all about “enlarging your space”….. we all need to give ourselves a bit more room to move, feel, react, and release….. take some time to yourself, for yourself and let others have their space, too…. Self knowledge sometimes costs but is well worth the price in the end. Enjoy……

Let the light in

2014-01-09T12:47:00.003+00:00

Holding someone, because they need it, because you can see their soul longing for that love they deserve and haven't been given enough of. Holding this person and feeling their life force surge like a warm wave engulfing everything in a light that's healing. Connection is what truly heals and why only have it with one or two human beings when there are billions out there who need love and cannot find it ? The power of touch is underestimated, and so essential to our well being. It does not need to be sexual though it can be.

We also have stripped sexuality down to its bare bones and left nothing of the immense spiritual power it possesses. We make love without looking at each other and then we wonder why we feel so empty. Sexual energy and spiritual energy need not be separate. The life force resides within our body and the spiritual is the body. The body is sacred and if it is treated as such it becomes the perfect vehicle for spiritual connection with the world. There is no need to purify it because there is nothing dirty in it. It is pure as it is. Even blood, pus, excrement , they are all part of our natural being in this earth. They are sacred just as much as everything we see and touch and feel is. There is no separation , there is no need for it.

Even the darkness has its place in the universe and even killing is part of nature. This does not mean that we should go out there and indulge in the urge for destruction but that we must accept it as part of our nature and seek to understand it and integrate it. What is that anger trying to tell us ? What is it that we need that we aren't getting ? And how could we go about it in order to get more of it ? What is it that we haven't tried yet ? If we want to feel connected, have we tried reaching out and connecting to someone else ? Have we tried to actually give that which we want to receive the most ? Or are we waiting passively for a miracle to happen and then complain that all is as it always was ? What could we be doing differently ?

Maybe all we need to do is open up a bit and let the light in. Let someone else's in. Trust. And open our arms to a stranger, if only for a moment.

A figment of my imagination

2014-01-07T15:54:00.001+00:00

I dreamed of you last night. A version of you I created in my mind. Your hair was the same, your face was the same, your lips were the same, your eyes were the same. You talked the same way, but I don't know if you kissed the same way. I don't know if the sweetness of those lips are just a figment of my imagination or if they are real. I know that in my dream you were like a force of nature, irresistible and fluid. Like water relentlessly pulling away at the shore. The smile you had stamped on your face and the spark in those eyes held me captive and immobile. Just like when I met you and unbeknown to you I stared at you thinking : I could kiss that mouth. I wonder what it'd be like to bite those lips gently with my teeth. I wonder what it'd be like to feel the wetness of his kiss mingled with the bittersweet smell of his breath. I wondered what you'd look like when you'd feel my desire awaken. So I filled in the gaps and imagined it all. And now I smile to myself because I know that it's enough for me to have dreamed that enticing dream even if you never come close to me again. It's enough that you inspired its passion and beauty. For that I thank you, kind stranger.

Contact

2014-01-06T23:48:00.002+00:00

Skin. Smooth. Prickly. Rough. The edge of a table. A hand clicking glass against glass. Whisky. You are my hero. Red cushions. Frosted glass. The smell of old books. There's a draft by the windows and the bedside lamp doesn't work. The words, they flow like a river in the northern countries. Cliches. passions.Tthe wish for warmth and comfort. If only it were so simple. A straight line. From up the mountain down the slope and onto the finish line. Don't look at the rock over there! Pay attention goddamit ! And the smile is stamped on his face. Hair like wild tall grass blown away by the wind. Trembling. Seed. Fragile and yet pushing hard upwards. Silence. Expectancy. Excitement. Fantasy. Wishing for a dream to tantalize the senses. Wait. Watch. See. Learn. A movement of eyes on canvas. A thousand days lost in unforgettable mist. Eternal present. The presence of sound. Forgotten memories. Distorted sleep. And many more unknown tomorrows to discover. Patience. Slow. Whispering low.

An opening

2014-01-05T11:39:00.004+00:00

Coincidences. Watching the sky change colors just out of sight. How did I get here , after years of sighs and tears and now there s a vague sense of hope, a smile forming on my lips, hours spent talking about nothing in particular and everything.
An opening. Listening. To that voice that once got squelched and hid somewhere under endless strata of 'shoulds' and 'ought to" . I am tired of wasting that precious time I have been given. It really won't come back ever again so why pretend that's an illusion ?
The mountain looms in the forefront of my vision but the little man advances step by step, going forward with his pack on the shoulders. When he gets to the top he might take something out of it and watch it intently. Did I really need this up here ? Was it worth it carrying it all the way up ?
Dreaming of solutions resting in the future is like floating on artificially salted water. It's not the real thing is it ? And I don't want to live through others, through their dreams, allowing my envy to surface and destroy all that makes me feel whole and alive.
I rather follow the risky road. It is time to let some light in and walk on that tightrope again. I might fall but this box has become too tight and safe. It's stifling, dark and I cannot breathe. If it was about being safe I would be better off dead.
So I choose to focus on the increasing light over the horizon. It's grey and weak right now but I know the hours are getting longer and the time will come when I can come out in my short sleeves and my summer dress and shout my love from the rooftops like a crazy woman once again.

Exploring creativity, getting clarity

2013-10-09T22:32:00.004+01:00

Today I have , after months of procrastination, composed my first looping track. It has been a while in the making. After berating myself for a few days about the fact that despite having bought the very expensive equipment equivalent to 1 month's rent a few weeks ago I hadnt really used it properly since the first few enthusiastic and exhausting days of setting up , and so I finally set down to work.

This was precipitated mainly by two factors: 1) my drumkit teacher telling me I was making very good progress and me feeling elated as a consequence of having my own judgement in this matter confirmed 2) reading a book called " The artist's way" which told me to get over the fear / the block of the critical self and just do it. I therefore planned to get stoned first (just a little) and have a little drop of limoncello too, and then get on with it. Of course this was after spending a couple hours technically setting up the system to handle a highly creative though technically not too prone mind to be.

Well, needless to say, I realized early on that the process wouldnt be completely easy. Actually recording a drum loop in real time is not as straightforward as it sounds. You basically have to have perfect coordination and just get it right first time. So in essence you have to be a pretty good player of all the instruments you intend to have included in the track: in my case the drum kit, the bass, the keyboard, the guitar and the voice. Despite many fruitless and frustrating attempts I decided not to loose patience and instead take the difficulty as a challenge that would push me to be a better performer in general.

It took at least an hour to get the drumbeat down. Then I had quite a lot of problems getting the sound right so that all instruments would be recorded in an intelligible way and I would be able to expand on it later. Better to have something to work on that is not at an excellent level than to wait till you reach that point and in the meantime forget what the hooks melodies and rhythms you had come up with. The result was me getting very hungry after a couple hours practice and going down to the kitchen and victim to the munchies eating more of that delicious yogurth wih chocolate chips that was left in the fridge from last night.

Now I am pretty tired though it s only 22:13 but at least I have the sketch of something audible down. To prove the therapeutic effect of art while doing all this I also found myself thinking about the prospect of going to uni next year to study modern composition. While I was at first quite interested in asking the course teachers about the exact curriculum and activities I would be doing as soon as i found out that in order to even hope to be asked for an interview I need to have passed grade 5 music in 3 month's time I felt deflated. In fact although I do know music (albeit who knows ip to what grade : 2 ? ) I really dont know if I could get to that level in such a short time. In any case I decided I should ask for more information before giving up or deciding it isnt for me.

So, to summarize the important things that I ve learnt tonight are :
1) I should not make important decisions based on fear (in this case of not being good enough )
2) I do want to learn to write down my compositions so that better players than me could play them and I could sing if need be and play the instruments I can up to standard.
3) Alternatively I have to become reasonably good at drumming, playing guitar and recording.

I am not too bad now but certainly I am not yet at the level of being able to do an electronic live shows on my own... in time however... who knows ? So anyway, I thought I d make sure this moment is recorded for me to remember that quite apart from anything else the joy of making music comes from playing and having fun and what I discover while I am busy doing that might just help me understand myself and my life better and get some clarity to make the right decisions for myself.

New Band in the making !

2013-09-15T19:10:00.000+01:00

I am very proud to announce that as of September 2013 a new band has been formed: the temporary name of Elyssa Vulpes and The Sweet Bitter Enemies has been assigned to this array of disparate personalities. As of now we have Paul Gonzales, a Spanish drummer with a past as a metal fan, Josh Del Tramonto, an Australian guitarist turned bass player and Simon Szymek, Polish violinist direct from the University of Edinburgh Music School. We have big plans to take Edinburgh and Glasgow by storm and then expand to touring the UK and Europe. Watch out for brand new tunes in Italian and English and songs as mellow as can be as well as fast and furious ironic numbers. Follow us and help us build a bigger audience to give us enough time and money to put all this down in a long awaited album ! We have too many songs, so it might have to be a double ! Thank you for your continuing support, it s what makes us keep going!

New Projects on the rise...

2013-02-02T19:40:00.001+00:00

So this year has started with too many projects and too many possibilities. Of course this is better than not enough stuff to do but I seem to swing between not having enough to do and having too much... well it's been two years since I started writing new songs for the new album. I have enough material for two albums but the money is short so it will have to be a slow and long process and even then it will be a matter of selecting the best songs and only recording them...

At the moment there are both Italian and English songs and this time there is a big change... I have a drummer involved , a double bass player and a violinist... so it's going to be quite different from "Pearl of Blood" . I feel I have moved on quite a lot since Pearl of Blood. The new songs are a bit less dark and melancholic while still on the chilled side. I do have a couple of numbers that are quite poppy but having said that my 'poppy' is probably still quite eccentric compared to the mainstream. Funnily enough those songs are the most popular but my least favourite.

So we are going to be recording the drums this february and then lay the rest of the tracks on top. I hope to be finished by this time next year. On top of this I do have (still) a couple of old albums that I want to remix... one is a band album from the New Zealand years and the other is an ambient album... I also am drumming a lot at present and that is likely to be taking some of my time.

Lately I have also collaborated with some Dance Labels and have been spurting out some tracks which apparently are being played in some obscure club in Germany... it is a very different kind of music from I what I normally do but I find it rewarding in its own way. I like to stretch myself and sing different genres, it keeps me interested I guess.

Well, another new year resolution is to keep this blog a bit more alive. My shift has changed a lot in the last 4 years and I guess I got a bit distracted. Hopefully I can keep the focus up...

Dreams and Nightmares

2012-01-04T09:43:00.000+00:00

Basically I am an obssessive thinker. I get obsessed especially by people. I find certain people fascinating and I feel a very deep need to get to know them, to love them and be loved by them. This person becomes my muse, my obsession, my problem, my ecstasy and source of light as well as darkness. I have a deep need to communicate, and this sometimes is difficult because I often find that I spend a lot of time on my own . It is very easy for my relationships to become intense quite quickly because I am passionate and feel things with particular vividness. I fall in love too easily for my own good. Sometimes I think Id fall for anyone Id spend enough time with who wasn't totally hideous or nasty to me. I just find people so amazing. Everyone is a puzzle to understand. Everyone is a world, separate from others , and to communicate we need to find bridges that can connect us together. But there is no real possibility to fully be able to connect at all levels... always or even very often....
sometimes I become very frightened by own vulnerability when I first start noticing the way I feel about someone new. It 's worry, anxiety, fear coming from the memory of the pain of the past. It's like I wear a scar, the memory of my body left naked on the bed and blood coming out of me, and covering parts of the sheet with the vivid red of passion turned wound. They call it baggage. It's like this thing you carry on your back and you need to let it go, once and for all. You need to forgive and move on and make peace with the past. Worrying about all the things that could go wrong instead of focussing on what could go right is counterproductive. Feeling very insecure and imagining being rejected makes exactly what you fear happen. I guess it's natural to worry about being "found out" and then having given away one's power risk being put on the spot and "seen" in one's emotional nakedness and thereby judged without the safety of reciprocity. It's a game. It's both intriguing and maddening. But insecurity needs to be replaced with confidence, by putting on one side what you don't want and focusing instead on what you want... because imagining the future and the past you just end up avoiding the present... you recreate what you re scared of and live in a nightmare of your own creation instead of making it possible for your dreams to come true.

New Developments

2011-11-27T08:55:00.000+00:00

A change of pace is occurring. There's a few shows coming up and I am in the process of organizing more and more gigs here in Edinburgh and in Italy. Basically I will be setting up an acoustic singer song writer's night with the best Edinburgh musicians so that there is an outlet for people like me for showcasing their songs. I will also be singing in random open mic nights all over town on a regular basis as well as playing paid gigs in local bars and restaurants. The life of a musician is hard work! I am also recording a few songs all over the place, with collaborators and alone so stay tuned for future releases of Italian tracks as well as tracks with Mjuk , Graham Spence and Amy Davidson. The nights are getting longer and the light dimmer. This is the right time to put seeds underground so they may spring forth next year....

website player videos

2011-11-05T11:21:00.000+00:00

('http://www.youtube.com/p/4E6DCB0481538A45?version=3&hl=en_US',)

Autumn Afternoons

2011-11-04T16:13:00.000+00:00

Writing on a beautifully cloudy autumn afternoon in my flat in Edinburgh, listening to Portishead with the cat on my lap... kitty Samhein is happy and that is good because it means she's not going to bite me. These have been busy days, with Samhuinn just over, Italy behind me, and new projects just starting. At the moment I am waiting to hear from Arjen Schippers from the Mjuk Project so I can post our latest song "The eyes of a stranger" (which is dedicated to Ben Fyfe from Aberdeen met at the mighty Kaledoiscope festival) on our facebook page...
I also am trying to finalise some new collaborations with Graham Spence from Newcastle, Amy from New Zealand , Jeannette Gray and Emily Hoddo from the UK and trying to fix dates for gigs with local artists Caro Bridges, Rob Sproul Can and Jason Tyrone... as well as a tour in January in Italy with James Wynne.... busy busy indeed. I also am trying to record and mix the new Italian Album , which is going rather slow due to my lack of time... in fact recently I have been going through a bit of a re assessment of my life and trying to figure out how to make it all work without feeling too overwhelmed and over worked. Time for fun is essential! Which also means that I should get off this computer and play some tunes... Ive been writing a whole lot of new songs since coming to Edinburgh... a few are

Another lovely day (for guitar and voice)
Unlucky in Love (Mjuk)
Unwise (Mjuk)
The eyes of a stranger (Mjuk)
I'll be here (guitar and voice)
Let yourself fall (guitar and voice)
Life's but a joke (guitar and voice)

I guess Ill post the lyrics soon... now I gotta get ready for guyfolks tomorrow... I think I might go busking in the Royal Mile so I can make some pub money to celebrate! xoxo

NEW SONGS / NUOVI TESTI

2010-06-07T18:47:00.000+01:00

These are the new songs from the new album. Some in English some in Italian...

Da me A me

Seduta li sul portico deserto guardi fuori

e senti assalirti una tristezza assai invadente

e mentre scende la malinconia senza ragione

sai che e' la delusione di questo mondo decadente...

ti dico che dovresti non pensare che alle rose

ed apprezzare tutte quelle cose sempre belle

che restano aldila' di tutto cio' che e' sempre umano

come le gocce di rugiada sulla pelle...

e invece vedi tutto cio' che manca

in questo mondo che ti rende stanca...

Vorrei poter volare via

come un anima senz'ali

confonderci nel vento e non pensare piu'

al domani

ascoltami mia amica il tuo sforzo e' sempre uguale

che ti renda felice o ti lasci annegare

questo vuoto che tu senti lo hai creato facilmente

e' un brutto vizio

della tua mente

Vorrei poter potarti via...

-----------------

And I do

I wake up

and I see trees

barren

leaning out of winter

I wake up

from a bad dream

in which you said goodbye

You don't cry for me

you don't dream of me

you don't desire me

and I do, and I do, and I do

You never call or write

you say you're just distracted

the truth is you're out of my life

and you don't seem to be that much affected

This hell has got to end

I need a helping hand

some love from a real friend

cause you don't cry for me...

------------------

Lasciare Andare (italian version of And I do)

Ora non potremmo esser piu lontani

ed io non so nemmeno dove saro' domani

e non vedo che il tuo volto

in ogni goccia di pioggia assente

in ogni ricordo che mi torna in mente...

Lasciare andare

e' questo che dovrei fare

invece non riesco a scordare

il silenzio delle tue parole...

Ora son persa e non so piu che fare

son sola e fra di noi c'e' solo divisione

vorrei riuscire a capire in che direzione andare

ma son persa in questo mare di confusione...

e io che credevo che l'insicurezza

fosse soltanto un mio difetto

quando non era tutto poi cosi' perfetto

Lasciare andare....

------------------------

Mercy

Like a winter leaf

led downstream by the spring tide

your picture fades

inside worn memories

your picture fades

inside worn memories

and slowly dissolves

before my tired eyes

I have long prayed for this moment

for a time of respite

from the long tear stained hours

of a long lasting night

And just when I thought she would never come....

Mercy has finally found me

Mercy has finally found me and it's now...

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Nice Dream... isn't it?

2010-04-01T19:51:00.000+01:00

A crazy pyscho serial killer type man blindfolds an entire family and binds them with ropes to the seats of a car. Then he forces the driver to drive down the road. He knows they are all going to die. He likes to experience the terror on their face. Just when the entire company is about to crash he jumps out the window and miraculously survives. At this point, witness to the scene, enraged, I go towards him and shoot him several times. After several shots he finally dies too, except for his leg, which somehow comes to life and starts hopping around by itself (detached from the rest of the body) in the blood-filled street.

Yehi!