First page of the guitar shop archive.

thoughts like rain, just keep falling.

Posted by jessica on Feb 13, 2010 with 11 Comments
in Funny Stuff, Performance, photography, Thoughts and Feelings
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So many thoughts are happening right now, vying for my attention, that I suppose I will just start with one and go from there.

Um, the East End Cafe really needs to put some toilet paper all up in it. Well, for sure in the women’s bathroom, at least. I can’t really speak for the men’s bathroom, because I’ve never been. And I’m okay with that.

Also, when I was driving home tonight there was a rather large raccoon who was playing chicken with me on 896. Ha. Two different animals in one sentence. But we both survived and I wonder if he is now blogging about some skinny blond who almost killed him with her car. If anyone comes across a blog in which the author is a raccoon and he describes the aforementioned scenario, please let me know. I’ll totally put it on my RSS feed. I might even hash out an apology in the comments. After I suggest, of course, that he really should watch where he’s going when venturing out on the road.

My friend Shane asked me to sing some of his jams with him at the East End Cafe tonight. He even let me play one of my own. On the guitar. Whoa. See, I was all, Why don’t you play it while I sing? because he’s just so great at the guitar while I’m really not; but he was all, How about you and I both play it? because apparently he likes the idea of me growing as a musician and actually playing the song I wrote on my little Treewood guitar and blah blah blah shoot, that means I have to do it.

And yes, Treewood.

It’s called that because, while I was admiring it’s neck in the guitar shop in Japan, I asked the salesman what kind of wood it was. He thought for a moment before saying, Tree!

Good to know I went all the way to Japan to purchase the rare commodity that is known as treewood. Pretty sure you can’t get wood made out of actual trees here in the states.

But tonight was just a blast. I got to forget about a lot of things I’d rather not think about so much and lose myself in some great music. And then when I did remember? Lucky for me, I was already singing about it so hey, fuel for the fire.

This picture isn’t so great, kind of fuzzy and all that, but here we are anyway.

And, judging from what I’m wearing, apparently Easter came early this year.

And you wanna hear something? I mean, this is really something.

Not even one year ago, I was playing at the East End. With Drew. Singing some songs that have since grown cold and lost some meaning. And yes, I thought about that tonight, and yes, I realized that if someone had told me this would be the case not one year later, I would have asked them if the two of us could maybe go to Candyland together after the show; I hear Grandma Nutt has some fresh cookies cooling on her counter.

Goodness, I was so proud then. Proud of my little empire and proud to be so brilliantly different from those whose world crumbles so easily.

But now when I hear about some other mess, I get it; and everything inside of me says me too. Because we’re all more alike than not, anyway. We’re all trying to do better than survive as we write songs that both validate how we feel and try to scratch out pictures of better days.

And I think I’m not too proud to see this anymore.

I hope, anyway.

*And let me be the first to point out that blah is tagged not just once, but twice in this post: “blah” and “blah blah” so as not to get the two confused. Obviously, they both have very different meanings and should be tagged accordingly.

she’s a Martin, but that’s not her name.

Posted by jessica on Aug 19, 2009 with No Comments
in Performance, photography, Thoughts and Feelings
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I have been thinking about this for a while.

Especially while on the road.
And especially when I don’t have access to a piano.
People seem to be under the impression that I am very very busy. When in reality, I am not so busy, I just am not around. And there’s a big difference.
On a one show day, I work for a total of 3 hours. And then I am done with what is known as bringing home the bacon and can do whatever the heck I please. All this to say, I have time for some other stuff in my life. Time to learn new things, and I want to take advantage of this.
So right. What I have been thinking about is purchasing an instrument that is more mobile than say, my piano that weighs a ton.
And for once, I am using that word literally.
See, as much as I’d love to take my piano on the road, I’d hate to see what the airline would charge me for the overweight fees once I stuffed it into my suitcase. Plus, I already have some necessary things in there. Like clothes. And 100 calorie packs of Cheez-Itz. As well as many other mature things along that same vein. So, really there just isn’t room.
Also, some of the music I write has a feel for a guitar rather than a piano and so it’d be nice not to have to go to someone else to play it for me. And by someone else I mean Drew. Or Clyde, my guitar-wiz friend here on tour. Or upon lucky occasion, my talented rocking brother Josh.
Anyway, there is this guitar shop that I pass everyday on my way to work here in Tokyo. I have to admit that the first guitar that stood out to me was purple. And it stood out to me simply because it was purple. So I thought that was the one I wanted.
But then I saw a red one. A deep, rich red that was feminine with an edge. I loved it. Until I heard it, that is. It was tinny, and not nearly as rich or resonant as its color would suggest.
Oh and I guess I should tell you that Clyde was with me. See, when talking over this purchase with Drew, his one caveat was to make sure that it isn’t crap. Those were his exact words. And since I am obviously easily seduced by pretty colored guitars, I asked Clyde to come with me and help me make a good solid choice, i.e., a non-crappy choice.
Anyway, the purple guitar was a no go, as was the red. Well shoot, I didn’t see anything else that drew me. Until…We were taken up to the 6th floor, also known as the Land of Beautiful Acoustic Guitars, also known as the Land of Guitars That Are Way Too Expensive For Me So Why Am I Even Here?
But.
We got around to a bunch in the center of the room and I noticed a smaller guitar, black as the nighttime sky and beautifully crafted. I also noticed it was on sale and within my price range.
We picked it up. Clyde played it and we both marveled at its tones, the roundness of its high notes, the fullness of its low range.
And then it was my turn to play.
And that was it.
Done and done, sign me up, and do you take Visa?
I love it and I am very excited about this new venture, this new challenge.
Already my fingers hurt and already I have learned one new chord. Also, my dear friend Mindy made me play her a song in the dressing room, which I did, and she kindly acted like she loved it. Have I mentioned how dear and sweet Mindy is? I am pretty sure she would love it if I banged two sticks together and yodeled about sheep. Or at least, she would tell me that she did.
Anyway, here she is (My guitar, that is, not Mindy). She’s a Martin, but I won’t be calling her Martin, since she’s a girl.
So pretty.
And I am so grateful that she is mine.
Now to build up some calluses on these fingers of mine…