Blog: Beauty & Grief

Hi friends.

I hope you have had a wonderful week, though I know for a lot of you that hasn’t been the case. For whatever reason there seems to have been an uptick in those passing this last week or so; dearest friends & loved ones, beloved furry companions, staples of communities, & sudden shifting tides that have led to difficult decisions & great heartache across the board. If you find yourself in any of those categories I first want to offer you me deepest, most sincere condolences. I also want to shed some light on what you can expect going & hopefully bring a little peace your way through shared experience & understanding.

If you weren’t aware, back in May I lost my almost decade & a half companion Harvey & while yes, he was “just a dog,” he was so much more than that to me & to most of the people that had the pleasure of knowing him. I have no children other than those who bare fur & walk on all fours. That’s not a dig at saying my (non-existent) human children are very bizarre, I’m simply saying that all I have, paternally, are the animals that I have adopted over the years. I’m not going to turn this blog into a statement about how people should or shouldn’t be able to grieve their pets, but a lot of recent research shows that those of us who have strong, almost familial connections to our pets, mourn them in an identical way to how you would mourn the loss of a family member. Harvey was my boy, he was with me for over thirteen years of my life & he was, for a long time, who I looked forward to coming home to at the end of the day. So his loss ripped me apart, it shattered me to the core, & forced me to rebuild a life without him in it.

I’m not going to sit here & lie to you or belittle you. It’s hard, it’s impossibly hard, the grief that lingers like fog & settles into your bones like lead. You will have days where it is debilitating, but you will also have days where the sun shines through the blinds & melancholy & hope replace the anguish & despair. But with all things challenging in life you must face it head on & take it one step at a time.

There will be a time, when the wound of loss is fresh, where you will seemingly forget a time when your eyes were not floodgates constantly on the verge of spilling over. Then too will come a day when you can’t remember the last time you felt that way, when you can’t remember the last time you cried. You will be visited in your dreams & reach for them in your sleep & wake up with a tear soaked pillow & a yearning that can never be satiated. There will be times when a certain song, sound, smell, phrasing, sight will hit you in just the right way & you’ll find yourself back in the thick of it all. Even I still find myself here once in a blue moon all of these months later, but it does get easier & the triggers get fewer & farther between & at some point melancholy takes over the bitter sadness & all you will find is sweet longing & remembrance.

There’s a quote that I use often because of just how perfectly stated it is. It can be found in the Disney+ Show “WandaVision” at a point where one character, Vision, finds another, Wanda, sitting in the room ruminating on the death of her brother. In my mind Wanda becomes apologetic for her expression of grief & Vision delivers the beautiful line "what is grief if not love persevering?” That’s a line I think about often & as someone who often deals in lyrics or creative writing, is ultimately one that I wish I had thought of. Though as of now it definitely would’ve reached a wider audience on Disney+ than me.

We seldom think of grief this way. My perception of it has always been a dark, navy/grayish cloud of despair that sticks to the skin & sinks into the marrow. Almost like some dark force whose job it is to chain you to the depths. I think recently that idea has changed for me. We like to quantify grief in stages. First you hit the one, then the other, then the other three. And while a part of me thinks to an extent that is true in terms of the overarching experience, I think we dip in & out of each of the five stages intermittently & at times randomly. You see, if we look at grief from the perspective of love’s perseverance it becomes something entirely different, it becomes an immensely beautiful, deeply human experience.

Those who do not grieve are whose who have not known love. They have not felt its entirely. individually unique hold on their heart to then know what it is to suddenly have to live without it. They do not see the way in which our memory replays each of the moments, begging us to find what is irreplaceably lost. They do not understand the vacuum of space that feels ripped from your chest because they have not felt that level of DNA melding, intertwining love. Be so glad for that. Know that your sadness can only come from one who has been loved.

My advise to you is to feel these moments. Live in these memories savoring the shimmeringly perfect details & embrace the pain & the detriment that comes with them because these moments will fade. The intensity at which you feel their loss will fade & so too will the sharp edges of those bold, flashing memories. Grieve as you are told to love, wholeheartedly & know that you don’t owe anyone your tears or your smiles. You are allowed to be as “put together” as you need to be, or to not be. Feel what you need to feel because that is the only way to experience grief for what it is, without allowing it to compress down & fester & become this thing that sours your soul or the memory of those who you have lost. Be vulnerable, be bold, claim time for yourself & feel. You will get through it & you will find that those memories that bring you pain will, over time, fill you to the core with that feeling of love that I know right now you feel you have lost. I would also advise you that those you have lost would want you to continue living your life & to not let the delicate balance between succumbing & healing shift too far into the former.

My thoughts & love go out to you all. I understand that no words that I say or no sentiments that I extend will be enough to repair what has been broken, that is entirely up to you.

As always, much love to you all,

-C

Blog: It Must Be Nice

Every two to four years the US likes to turn up the gas on the conversations that happen over family gatherings & across social media platforms. I’ll be the first to admit I kind of enjoy the biannual purge that cleans out my social media followers & friends. It can actually be refreshing from time to time to know where people actually stand. And look, I know a lot of you read that last bit of sentences & had the lovely sentiment of “just because we disagree in the voting booth, doesn’t mean we can’t still be friend” & unfortunately I think we’re way past that societally, morally, & “loving.” I’m sure, once again, me saying that has lost a few of you & some of you have already checked out or clicked out of this blog because you “won’t be a part of divisive politics” which in this day & age is, let’s face it, oxymoronic. If you’re still here & you have a little bit of time I’d love to fill you in on what I mean by all of this & show you why I, & so many who find ourselves living in marginalized groups, feel this way.

Let’s start at what prompted this blog with a little bit of back story. I was on the phone a few weeks ago with someone, whom I shan’t name here because they trusted me enough to speak about their political beliefs openly with me & inadvertently trigger the contents of this blog from the conversation that they & I had. In said conversation we were talking about the upcoming election in which I voiced my support for the Harris/Walz ticket & the general feeling of hope that came with it. We talked policy & things of that nature & the rebuttal of the person I was talking to was very economically driven, as most people are to do when they vote red. They are a well off individual & were upset over the amount of taxes they’d had to pay this year from the sales of an entity that they had worked their lifetime for & which had allow them to retire. I informed them that we hadn’t had a new tax bill since 2019, but their concern was that the incoming potential of a Democratic win would further reduce their earned pile & that which they had prepared to leave for their children once they passed. My response was, what a luxury, that must be nice.

You see while they’re dealing internally with issues like tax policy & inflation (which is mostly a global issue by the way, majority of the rest can be chalked up to corporate greed) I’ve just spent the last several months investigating the deep possibility & probability that had Biden not dropped out, Evan & I would most likely need to expat to another country.

I don’t think that’s over exaggerating either. In fact a lot of people that I know who are members of the LGBTQ+ community, individuals of color, or women, had been doing exactly the same thing to varying degrees. Evan & I had gotten to the point where we were narrowing down countries, looking into visa applications & price, & planning to start the processes for all of these things. Tax policy was honestly the farthest thing from our minds & that’s exactly what I mean when I say “it must be nice.”

It must be nice not to worry about your fundamental rights every election cycle. It must be nice not to fear that the only way that you & your significant other to be together would be by fleeing the country. It must be nice when the things on the ballot for you are not life altering, but instead whether or not you have access to a military grade machine gun. It must be nice not to be worried about whether or not you’re going to be able to afford or attain healthcare. It must be nice to know that certain aspects of who you are as human will not diminish you in society to any degree no matter the outcome. It must be nice not to worry about housing or food or whether or not we will even have a livable planet in 20-30 years. It must be nice to balance the fate of so many, whom you are supposed to love unconditionally as a so called christian, on a vote in favor of your wallet when the alternative could potentially ruin the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. It must be nice.

So no, I don’t mince words, because we are past the point of where an election is simply deciding where & when we spend our tax dollars. We are voting on whether or not those who are different than you; who look different, worship in a different way, love different, have a different tax bracket, have different core beliefs, are worthy of basic human liberties or not. And if you are not someone who can agree with that from a moral stand point, I have little to no interest in anything you say. Because at the end of the day if we can’t agree that all people, no matter their race, gender, background, sexuality, religion, etc. are worthy of life, liberty, & the pursuit of happiness equally, without barriers or restrictions that keep them from living a life with no consequence of your own, then you have lost my respect & any integrity that I thought you might have.

This is not about tax policy. This is not about budgets. This is about the livelihood of millions of Americans who don’t fall under the christian, cis-gender, heterosexual, white blanket & I fear that should this election go the way it looked like it was headed just a month or so ago, then we will have lost any & all hope of regaining & rebuilding America as any form of a United States.

-C

Blog: Ponderance & Teacups

Lately I’ve found myself leaning more & more into ponderances & have caught myself marveling at the ‘through lines’ of it all. Yes, I know ponderances isn’t a word, but I enjoyed the cadence of it in my brain & the way it fits in form. To ponder is to think carefully or in detail about & adding the suffix “ance” insinuates a state of being, ponderances therefore being states of thoughtful thinking. There’s something shimmery & quant about that. Like nostalgia set to theory. I don’t know if it’s the years, the journey into mindfulness, the season of life, or what the cause of this often aloof status would be, but it’s brought about many connections in my head that warm the heart & bring me to marvel at the grand ‘happenstance’ of it all.

One such ponderance & the conclusion that it led to finds its way back to me almost on the daily in the form of teacups. I am a lover of beverages in most of their forms. Most dietitians I’m sure would scoff at the amount of “wasted calories” that I drink, but there’s something altogether entertaining about a drink that’s tastes invigorate the senses & occupy the mind. I am a tea drinker, of course, because of this love (in addition to coffee, cocktails, juices, craft sodas, tonics, etc. etc.). I find the combination of flavors, as well as their medicinal properties, to be fascinating & therefore I consume some form of tea almost each & every day. The existence of this love for beverages has also led me to the accumulation of many a drinking vessel, all of which sit in the same cupboard awaiting their specific & unique intended use.

My mugs, which are often the cup chosen for tea time, actually sit opposite all of the others in my kitchen. However, the tea strainers all sit with the other tea items; the teapot, the ceremonial tea cups, etc. & with the tea paraphernalia lives two very distinct tea cups that are actually one of the newer additions to the collection. Did I mention they also come with a story?

When I go to make my tea; when the water has been warmed, the mug & the leaves has been selected, & I go in search of a strainer they always catch my eye & I can’t help but smile as my fingertips drift over them to where the things I need are stored. They don’t look like much. They’re small, entirely porcelain white, except for the blue lined base & two little raised details that sit on either side of the cups; a soft greyed purple & a blush pink flower & a few cerulean & sage leaves. The tea cups are unassuming. They’re delicate & beautiful when taken in but when places in a collection I’m not sure they’re the first thing that most people would notice. That’s definitely not the case for me as they stand out like a spot in the night, anchoring me to lineage, fate, & a bond between peoples living on opposite ends of the earth.

I don’t know entirely where the teacups originated outside of knowing that they are Japanese in make & in origin. They were brought across the Pacific Ocean, packed carefully in with an assortment of other personal treasures & articles of a life being transplanted from one country to another. Through time & years they ended up in a home on a hilltop in Hillsboro, Oregon where a first generation Japanese family lived with their daughter next door to my parents & their daughter at the time. I’m not sure at what point the family moved away back across the sea, but I do know in the interim, in that time spent as neighbors, they & my parents became rather close. Just as my sister did to their daughter. I have no recollection of the bond or the family in my early years of life because I was a newly minted human being & I’m fairly certain they were gone before my time of memory, but when they departed this country they left behind certain items & gifts, two of which where these teacups.

Years went by & stories were told & the family became a staple of the history that is my immediate family though the years had drifted us apart. Technology had changed, each of us had moved ten times over, the children were grown & starting families & lives of their own, & the ties & bonds slipped nearly into fable. My mother would often sit & express how much she longed to reconnect with the friends whom they hadn’t been able to reach for the many years of separation they'd endured. That was until my love stepped in.

Evan is notoriously good for finding things & people lost to the internet, he should probably be a private investigator, & in the span of around thirty minutes to an hour, he was able to find the socials & email for the family now living in Japan. From there my mother began to reconnect which then led to her connecting me with the daughter of the family whom now I share an online connection with delighting in the photos she posts of her & her blossoming family. And then there are these teacups.

My mom isn’t a tea drinker, if she does, she’s a mug drinker for sure favoring something that comes in a bag over loose leaf. She has not the desire for the ceremonial, meditative aspects of tea brewing & drinking & in knowing that I do, she gifted me the teacups along with the story of their origin. It was a while later, after using them & having them as a staple of my cupboard of cups that I really realized the serendipity of what I had. The amount of life that these simple ceramic vessels had seen & endured all while intertwining two families from two entirely different cultural backgrounds & locations.

The cups were gifted or bought in Japan, where they were crafted. They were used by a family who crossed the largest ocean on the planet to start a new life in an entirely different country. They were passed, lovingly, to my family as their previous owners parted these lands where they sat, waiting the years for the one member of my family who would use them for their intended use to be gifted them. They would then reignite the stories & the desire of connection in which my chosen partner, someone from an entirely different family, from an entirely different part of the country, would reconnect the two separated families. And now they have a home in my house in Tennessee where they frequently spark my sense of wonder & amazement at the sheer tenacity of the invisible string that guides us along. Where they are an anchor point of admiration & love across time, space, generations, & peoples.

I know someday these cups may break. I’m sure out of clumsiness that some day I may accidentally knock them from their shelf & shatter them into a million pieces. And while the idea of losing these points of reference & reverence saddens me, I know that their meaning & their purpose will have been served & that their timing, their patience, & fortitude will have amounted to so much more than just a pair of teacups. Things are just things, stuff is just stuff, but meaning & love & companionship leave behind marks. We can never see them but they are very much felt & maybe, who knows, when the timing is right & if these cups have outlived a love I carry for their practical uses. Maybe they too will make another trip across the sea where they will be returned to a member of the bloodline that gifted them so lovingly to mine & the intersectionality will continue.

Blog: I've Got That Summertime, Summertime Sadness.

Typically this is the type of blog that you would find popping up on my page during the colder months of the year & while those depressive bouts definitely feel different from the place I currently find myself in, I feel that this is no less relevant a topic to so many of you who read my writings. Summer is usually the time of year where I am in my emotional & energetic highs. I love the heat, I love that everything is green & lush & all of the best foods are in season. Also, being a water baby, summer offers the most opportunity for me to be submerged…comfortably. I don’t think all of that is not entirely true currently, as I feel what I’m experiencing has nothing to do with the season itself. I suppose to a degree that the title of this blog is a misnomer, as I don’t have seasonal depression as some do with the warmer months, but instead I find myself in a slump triggered by something else…it just happens to be taking place in the heat of summer.

I’ve written many times about my experience with ADHD & I feel like this is more in line with that side of my psyche than the seasonally depressed one. If you’re unfamiliar with ADHD a lot of us get what is referred to as “executive disfunction.” This form of “ED” (lol) is typically entirely driven by one of two things; dopamine or anxiety. I think I’m dealing with the former, but I’m going to talk about the latter first.

Often times people with executive dysfunction that stems from anxiety get that way because they have too much on their plate. They’re looking around, seeing all of the things they feel they need to get accomplished, & they flounder because their brain can’t figure out where to start. A lot of the time when you’re neurodivergent everything comes across as having equal importance so when you’re weighing one thing against the other your scales can come out flush. This is where the ED sets in & you find yourself breaking down & doing nothing instead of getting the things done that you needed to get done which then results in feelings of low self esteem, self worth, etc.

On the other side of this dysfunctional coin lives the dopamine drive, which people who are neurodivergent are often driven by. You see, we crave novelty, we crave change & constant moments of “oo, look at that!” which is often why people with ADHD are impulsive spenders. Autism typically manifests in the opposite way. Those who are autistic often crave stability, comfort, & constants in their lives.

I’m coming off of almost two to three months of dopamine switch backs. I worked on a single, was writing for other people, did PR & asset work for said single, helped a friend move, worked on an acoustic version of said single, started & finished another single, shot assets for it, went to Colorado, played shows, etc., etc., etc. But the line of exhilaration & burn out it the edge of a knife & I think I found myself burning out which then caused me to falter & stop, as I should which then left my dopamine & novelty meter to run out which then causes me to go in search of quick dopamine fixes; food, social media, working out, etc. With those quick fixes in place my executive function sets in because the things that take longer than five seconds to an hour or so now seem not worth the energy & the cycle perpetuates itself over & over & thus, much like the anxious style, so too does the depression.

The problem is that executive dysfunction begets executive dysfunction & the depression definitely perpetuates it as all it makes me want to do is wallow. It is a battle to get up & do anything at all, truly. Even this blog has been a sloooooooog for me & my brain to get through today as the dopamine payoff is long & delayed. (Most blogs take me about an hour & a half to two.) But unfortunately, I have to re-regulate, I have to push through the slump & do the things that take time, avoiding the quick fixes as best I can in order to get back on track which is typically much easier for me to do in the summer months because there is more going on in the world & amongst my peer groups.

As with any blog regarding my struggles with depression or my ADHD symptoms, I don’t write them for your sympathies or to make excuses for myself. What I do is share all of this because I know there are those of you out there who feel the same way I do or are dealing with similar moments in your lives. Additionally some of you may be reading this to better understand the ebb & flow of mental states of someone in your life, & if that’s what has brought you here I applaud the hell out of you & your desire to engage from an empathetic stand point.

Living in a nuerotypical oriented, ‘go, go, go’ world can be incredibly difficult for some of us & often those who find themselves aligned, mentally, with the world that capitalism has built, don’t understand what it is to not have your brain fit in the box constructed around us. I write these blogs to help educate as much as I do to help those in the same boat find commonality with a stranger on the internet.

I’ll bounce out of this, I’m sure of it. I’m in a low tide moment where the sea has receded & I’m forced to bake in the sun for a while but I know the tide will shift & I will once again be rolling in the surf.

As always, much love to you all!!!

-C

Blog: Fine, I'll Do It Myself...

When I started recording “When He Was Me” I knew instinctively that I also wanted to put out an acoustic/stripped version of the song along side its more produced counterpart. Initially I had what we are now calling the “acoustic version” for its own full release, but after talking it out with PR & some other friends in the industry it was decided that we would treat the secondary release as supplemental. At the time of this decision the only version of “When He Was Me” that was completed was that of the original version, or what I’m calling the OG version & the timeline for the acoustic work’s completion was very tight. I began my “hi, let’s do a song together” texts to the normal avenues & producers I know but quickly found them all occupied with their own ambitious & excitingly full schedules so I found myself a bit at a loss of what to do. That’s when it hit me, what if I just…did it myself?…

Call it divine intervention, fortuitous winds, whatever, but the stars really aligned on this one. At the beginning of this process of doing something I had never done before, release something I produced/engineered/recorded/played entirely in the spare room upstairs, all I had was my MacBook with Logic Pro (recording software for those not familiar), my Lauten LA 320 microphone that I’d been using for voice over & demo work, & my Apollo Twin interface (how you connect your microphone/instruments to your computer). I was in desperate need of some studio monitors, a better workspace set up, & some plug-ins (effects added into Logic to make tracks sound or behave in a certain way), but I guess fortune favors the bold.

First came the desk. I was writing with the abundantly talented Frye in LA a few times ago when I was there & commented about how much I love her simple but hella effective studio set up. She sent me an entire gear list, including the studio desk she was using which sat around $300 on Amazon. I’d saved it to my wish list & never really thought much of it, that was until I started this project at which time I got a ping from Amazon telling me that the desk was on sale for a third of its normal price, $100. So here I sit, laptop propped up on my bright yellow studio desk!

Second came the monitors (speakers). I happened into McKay’s here in Nashville one day in search of an iPod for my niece. McKay’s is a used book/video/tech/etc warehouse by the way. While I was perusing the tech section I noticed a pair of Rokit 8s up on the shelf for the price of $190 for the pair. Now Rokits are fairly solid studio monitors & 8s are worth about $300 a piece brand new. So it was a steal. I asked the attendant about them, he said they’d been brought in a few hours earlier & worked great, so on home with me they went. I’m actually sitting here in between them listening to focus music as I type!

Last came the plug-ins. I was running a version of Melodyne already, I’d purchased it at a dizzyingly low price during their Black Friday Sale but I needed to upgrade the software to have it be affective at editing not just vocals, but polyphonic instrumentation (multiple notes being played at once, think of a guitar, ukulele, banjo, mandolin, non-MIDI piano, etc.). Once again, in waltzed a deal, $99 bucks to upgrade, normally $250. Now the deck was stacked in my favor!

With all of the pieces of my studio Infinity Gauntlet now assembled, it was time to get to work!

The first thing I did was lay down a rough. Rough vocal over simple piano chords tracked on my Roland RD-700, the only technically non-acoustic instrument that I played on the track. Tracking live piano is next to impossible to make sound good in a setting outside of an actual studio. From there I added rhythm guitar, a simple chorded finger picked pattern on my Collings Triple O that was also supplemented by full swinging strums panned left & right in the latter choruses. That’s when I hit my first snag.

You see, I don’t own a bass. What I do own is a cello, the only problem was that the bow of my cello had popped meaning the fastening holding the hairs in place had broken on one end. Another problem was that my local music shop was currently out of bows & would have to order me one. However, in the interim, I decided that I was going to track cello like a bass, using it as a plucked instrument to fill out the lower range of the song. With the bones set it was now time to fill in the intricacies of the song.

I knew I wanted to pay homage to the slide & dobro in the original version but I lack both a pedal steel & a dobro so instead I opted for a simple bottle slide on my acoustic. Tracking it in two octaves I still felt it lacking so I waited for my new bow to come in & added in the cello part later.

Next came the vocal texturing. I feel like Josh & I always end up with a stack of “Ah’s” in most of the songs we do & the OG is no exception having them lay essentially the pad for the bridge. So the “Ah’s” got tracked. Then came the Gregorian section.

I always feel like Rami Malek in Bohemian Rhapsody when I bring up the Gregorian section, to me it bears the same energy as him saying “now comes the operatic section” & while the Gregorian section was essentially just a pad in the OG version, I wanted to do it myself in the acoustic. This ended up being the lowest I’ve had to sing since the time I sang bass in Kansas State Choir for an old Russian Hymn. We’re talking Ab2’s low. (My music nerds will get that one.)

The last bit of vocal flavoring I added in were what I refer to as the “call & response” parts. These can be found in the second & third chorus & are essentially just repeating the chorus lyrics back after they’ve been sang. They mad the original recording so I felt the need to replicate them here as well.

With all of that in place I set about tuning, adjusting, equalizing, adding reverb, etc. etc. etc. which took me the span of several weeks. From there I got some feedback from friends who felt it needed a little more drive to it, so I added Cajon & Shaker into the mix. With all of these parts established it was finally time to go in & retrack the lead vocals.

I think I ended up doing around twenty-five different takes of the song mostly all of the way through. There were times where I’d listen back & feel I was still missing the line & would go in to add another five or six takes just to make sure I got it. Then came vocal compiling, cutting & reassembling the vocal lines into the one you hear today. After that I went in to make sure the timing on certain lines fit well & certain notes that were too quiet were turned up & those that were too loud, softened. This is an entirely baseless, stupid, & not meant to be a “brag” because I have no issue with the tech, but I actually barely tuned the vocals at all, I wanted that raw performance. From there I added chorus doubles & a single layer of background harmonies to keep things simple.

Finally it was time to send off to mix. Jonathan Roye was more than patient with my steep & fumbled learning curve & allowed me ample opportunity to go back & fix the numerous mistakes I made along the way, including at one point having to go back & entirely redo the Melodyne of all of my vocals (quantize tempo, reduce loudness, increase softness, tune, etc.). After a few back & forth between him & I we passed it along to Mike Monseur who mastered the track effortlessly!

All in all it was definitely a struggle for me. There were many times where I felt like giving up or trying again to find someone else more readily equipped to do it, but I’m glad I pushed through. This is definitely going to be one of those tracks that I’m not going to be able to enjoy for myself for quite a while, simply because of all the work & stress around it. It doesn’t feel real to me that I’ve put it out, it doesn’t feel real to me that I’m not able to be hyper critical of it anymore & make tweaks, because it’s out. It’s done. It’s time to move on to the next thing & let the song be what it’s going to be!

If you’d like to stream When He Was Me (Acoustic Version) you can find it in the button below!

As Always, Much Love,

-C

Blog: Your Intuition Is Usually Right

That’s it. That’s the blog. Do with that information what you will.

Call it a “gut feeling,” “funky energies,” a “headed up from the universe,” a “download from your angels, guides, or the Notorious G. O. D.,” but for all intents & purposes today we will be referring to said phenomena as intuition. It’s an impulse that’s often indescribable in reasoning or conventional logic but it is something, nevertheless, that each of us has to one extent or another.

However, intuition is something that most of us like to ignore. Whether it’s because it’s inconvenient or goes again the grain of what we want, we often caulk it up to nothing more than a funny feeling & try to continuously hold down the ‘snooze button’ on the alarm telling us that we’re steering into dangerous waters. The longer we ignore the warning, the more it grades on our energy & makes us feel emotionally exhausted & to continue the boat metaphor farther, it’s very much giving the “you’re good” segment from SpongeBob in which he & Patrick are stewarding a ship saying “you’re good, you’re good, you’re good,” as the Flying Dutchman’s ship continues to scrape along the sides of the rocks.

Our intuition is one of those engrained programs that most of us humans have, just like the uncanny valley, though I’ve seen animals exhibit their fair share of intuitive abilities as well. If an animal is aggressively afraid of someone, there’s usually an intuitive reason (unless there’s past trauma involved).

I’ve been notoriously bad at listening to my intuition which, of late, has come back to smack me over the top of the head with a big, fat “I told you so.” There have been certain people in my life, certain events, that I wanted so desperately for my intuition to be wrong about, but it never is, & that brings us to the point of this here blog.

Your intuition is seldom wrong, it’s usually right. Again, let’s read that together:

Your. Intuition. Is. Seldom. Wrong. It. Is. Usually. Right.

Yes?

There are usually reasons that the energy feels off, or even the opposite, there are usually reasons that your energy steers you towards something even when it’s not the path you want to take. As the saying goes: Man makes plans & God laughs. I for years put off coming out. I for years put off being open & honest about who I am as a person & as Stephen Lovegrove will tell you, the path that you find the scariest is usually the right one. It’s not hard either. If you sit there & ask yourself “what do I need to be doing?” You’ll usually get a very swift & clear answer. Say hello to your intuition. It knows the path, it knows where you should be headed & you’ll watch as your life gets easier & easier once you stop fighting it.

I once heard a story from a self made millionaire who said the key to his success was his belief that there is no such thing as a coincidence. Any thought, any feeling, any event that happens that feels coincidental is that propelling force trying to rocket you forward, trying to give you a chance to stop & listen & fall freely into the flow of the powers that be, whatever form that takes for you.

I had intuition bite me in the ass this last week & in all honesty it was something I’ve known forever but didn’t want to accept. I didn’t feel angry or betrayed, I felt disappointed. Disappointed that I seemed to be right about something that I really didn’t want to be right about & that sucks. But the beautiful thing is, I have the faith to recognize that maybe it’s for the best & maybe it was something that needed clearing so that something better could come my way. Time will tell.

I’m going to try to be better at listening to my gut, to the voice in my head that says “that’s not right, or that’s absolutely correct” & acting accordingly, because I’ve found when I do I’m a lot happier, a lot healthier, & a lot more good comes of it.

Trust yourself & trust your intuition!

Much love as always,

-C

Blog: Hello Seasonal Depression, Welcome Back I Guess...

TW: Depression

I honestly can’t recall what my original plan was for today’s blog. I’m certain I had it burning in the back of my mind all day until I had this prompt come zipping in. I know a lot of you who read these weekly installments of my life & thoughts also suffer from mental maladies like myself but for those of you who don’t understand seasonal depression & the way if informs your life I wanted to share this simple story.

It’s incredibly hard to explain but I can feel when autumn starts to slip in, the air & sunlight shift from the bright warmth of summer to the almost artificial feeling of the late summer/early autumn sun. Again, hard to explain, but the tinge of sunlight shifts from a bright, clear all encompassing hot to an oddly indirect yellowed glow. There’s something different in the way the air smells too, it gains a mustiness & a stuffiness.

If you have seasonal depression you know exactly what I’m talking about because it exacts a sense of overwhelming dread. You try to ignore it, but you can feel it in your bones. You can feel the sun slipping farther away & feel the days begin to shrink.

I imagine it’s a lot like how plants feel. They follow the sun from Spring into Summer & then are forced to put a pause on all of the progress & growth they’ve made with the abundance of light & retreat into themselves to winterize.

If you don’t have seasonal depression I imagine you read the above three paragraphs with a “WTF” kind of expression on your face or images of lunacy in your head but those I know with the same affliction as me can attest to this.

Anyway, I felt the sun start to slip away about a week ago, at least that’s when it became noticeable to me internally. I remember I was running errands & was outside & it just hit me out of the blue. I managed to push past the sense of dread for the time being but then it hit me again a few days later, & again this afternoon.

The dread isn’t the depression part, the sense of foreboding does not automatically equate “seasonally depressed” that’s where the next step comes in.

I was walking through the freezer section of Sprouts today, picking up some Paleo hot pockets when my Depression Kitty came walking down the aisle (Big Mouth reference, if you get it, you get it). She strolled right up to my wrapped around my shoulders & dissolved into my body & immediately I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed & not exist.

That’s more language that I’m sure is alarming to those with those blessed by the Serotonin Gods. When I say “crawl into bed & not exist” it has nothing to do with my will or lack of will to live, at least to me. I have no intentions of self harm, I just want to not exist, to dig a dark hole & lay in it for however long it takes. Again, I’m sure to a lot of you that sounds morbid but it’s the honest truth of how depression feels to me.

During depressive states I can lay wrapped up in bed doing absolutely nothing for hours. I don’t get bored or cry or anything, I simply lay & stare at the wall. I know it sounds SOOOOO productive to our Capitalist minds but existing in the void for a little while is what it is.

Do I wish I were different? That I wasn’t afflicted by it? Of course, but so do all who have to watch “normal” people live out there lives free of the hinderances of mental illness. It’s debilitating & the reason I write about it today is to help those of you who don’t understand to have a glimpse of what it’s like & for those of you that do, to know you have a kindred spirit in me who does understand.

One of the hardest things as someone who is both neuro-divergent & afflicted by SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) is trying to make people who don’t have either understand what it’s like to be one of us. I have been blessed with the knowledge of words & the ability to convey things through them that I feel helps to put most of this in layman’s terms.

Being someone with SAD (so delicately named) can make you feel like an outsider, it can make you feel crazy, or truly detached from the world around you especially in Autumn & Early Winter. You are faced with a constant barrage of people who are so excited for the Fall or the Holidays; wearing sweaters, making soup, cozying up & you have to do your best not to let it hurt your feelings because to me & those like me, the colder months are a constant fight to keep your head above the surface, to not appear like a downer or an outsider. To people like me it often feels like celebrating the fall or winter is in some way celebrating the hardest time of the year from us & then rubbing it in our faces. Just like so many of you can’t relate to not loving all things autumn, we can’t relate to the feeling of liking it.

Let me be clear, this is not a “piss off, I don’t wanna hear about the things you like because they make me want to dissolve into a vapor,” type of post. I’m just trying to help you understand. I’m trying to help you see how your friends & loved ones who have SAD feel & maybe offer them a break or a little bit of patience.

Before I close out I know what the next line of this conversation will be; why don’t you get help? A lot of us do, myself included. During the cooler months my script for Bupropion switches from a base 150mg to 300 & that’s just to keep my head above water. There’s no simple answer to depression & what causes it & not every solution works for all of us. We still have days where just the act of getting out of bed is literally like hauling a piano up a flight of stairs even if you are medicated & at a healthy base line. Please be patient with us & know that even if we refuse your help, we always appreciate the ask. If you find yourself as someone who also finds the Earth’s gravity turned up to eleven during the cold, I see you & understand your pain. Help is out there & available, there are a ton of resources on line & many free clinics offered by civil services around the world. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, though I know how hard it can be at times.

Much love to you all as always,

Welcome to autumn I guess haha,

I’ll see you back here next week!

-C

Blog: Now You're Family

I swear this is my last blog about Fiji…unless you’d like it not to be, I’m sure I can squeeze another two or three stories & life lessons out of that amazing trip! For now I’ll leave you all with this blog in hopes that it leaves you as inspired & hopeful as the experience did me!

One thing I thing that ended up being very different from my expectation of Fiji was the reality of it. I think we’re often times, especially in the US, thought to view Fiji as the perpetual postcard; a place where no matter where you look you’ll find picturesque white sand beaches, palm trees, & crystal clear waters & while that does exist it is definitely an exception, not the rule.

Majority of the residents of Fiji live below, what we in the western world would deem, the poverty line. The housing of those who dwell on the islands often consist of tin roofed, one room homes with an outdoor kitchen & while I’m sure a lot of us would find this difficult, the Fijians don’t seem to let it dampen their spirits.

It’s true of a lot of tourism driven countries where the lives of those who were born & raised in said country live drastically different lives than what those visiting are presented with, it creates an odd disconnect. There’s a very odd feeling when you’ve spent x amount of dollars to fly halfway across the world, hop on a privately escorted shuttle service, & are being taken to a resort whose rooms are bigger than majority of the homes of those who reside there. It’s an odd disconnect when you’re met with something clearly meant to welcome visitors that often has an “off limits” feel to those whose country it is.

This is not the point of my blog, but I feel its worth mentioning in order to set the scene for what I want to talk about.

While riding in one of the aforementioned private escort shuttles to go river tubing I overheard a conversation between one of my fellow divers, Elaine, & our driver that day. Elaine had sat up front with the driver & the two had been talking for quite a while before he mentioned the following. He said to Elaine that even though the Fijians may not have the room or the food outright, there is always room at the table & room in the home for one more. That no matter how hard life appears they are always willing to sacrifice a little room or a little food for someone else. I soon found out this was a common feeling amongst the Fijian people.

I wish for the life of me I could remember our driver’s name that day, shame on me for forgetting the openness & outward kindness of a stranger, but he also mentioned that to Fijians, once you’ve been on to the islands once, you’re a part of them. He said that to his people each of us was now family & that at any given time their doors were open to us for as long as we wanted or needed.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if the rest of the world worked that way? Wouldn’t it be amazing if we all thought as such & acted as such? That no matter how hard things were for us, we always have the time & energy to embrace those who come knocking on our door & say “how can I help?”

You see it occurs to me that the people that have the most, the countries that have the most, are often the ones who are most cut off to helping their “family.” We were welcomed, graciously, into a home in a village with around twenty people. Asked to take a seat, to make ourselves comfortable, & were then offered a portion of the owner’s lunch. A lunch that he had to farm for six months to get to produce crop. He not only offered us up the portion, but the entirety of what he had to eat for that afternoon with a beaming smile & radiant joy! Why aren’t we all like that?

We, in the US, have so, so much. A lot of us do anyway. Yet we shut our hearts, homes, & borders off to those who desperately need to be welcomed, to be shown through the door, welcomed, & offered a plate & a seat at the table & if they are offered entry it’s usually with stipulations. You have to give your life to MY God, have to work towards MY system, have to do something for MY cause or life. Acts of kindness & support rarely come simply from the goodness of ones heart. We need to cut the divides, to cut the ego & the “I’m better than” attitudes, & proudly exclaim to those who come willingly to our door “now you’re family.”

I hope you have a fantastic weekend & find a little moment or two over the next week to make a stranger feel loved, even in the smallest capacity.

Much love to you all,

-C

Blog: Where Do I Even Begin?...

If you’re a weekly reader of my blogs you may have read last week that I had a previous topic in mind when I went into that particular blog that didn’t end up happening simply because I felt called to go in a different direction, which is where we ended up. Side note; if you’re a weekly reader of mine, from the bottom of my heart thank you! I was hesitant to start blogging for the reason that it is often times baring your soul for strangers on the internet. Come to think of it, I actually think it may be easier to be open with strangers than to open yourself up to those closest to you. All of this is to say I hope you’ll come to this blog with as much love, kindness, & support as you have in the past. If you’re new to this whole carnival, welcome, I’m glad you’re here. Onto the topic at hand.

Something I desperately struggle with as an artist, creative, entrepreneur, business owner, etc. is starting. They say you have to start to succeed, which naturally is true, but I often find myself standing at the precipice of inception unable to budge. You see I immediately run into the feeling of overwhelm. I know all of the things I need to be doing but I’m struck with immobility because of the overwhelm of it all. It’s not like I don’t know how to be an organized person or how to prioritize or make lists, it’s just that I get an instant state of panic & can’t begin to even fathom the steps moving forward.

I know I’m not alone in this either, I’ve done a little bit of surveying over the last few weeks in this exact field of study. I wish so badly that it weren’t the case, I wish I could find myself presented with a challenge or a list of things that would lead me to success & not immediately go into mental gridlock but I can’t for the life of me find a way around. I say all of this not for your pity but more as a way of sharing my struggles in hopes they resonate with you. I also almost wonder if I’m in part begging for help especially where the music industry is concerned. I feel I’m often presented with a ‘do thing & you’ll get that’ but I feel no one addresses the ‘how.’

I think the reason for all the vagueness is that a lot of people don’t know themselves, they stumbled upon success or happened to have friends or family in high places & that’s equally, if not more frustrating. A part of me wants to stand atop the BMI or SESAC building & scream “WTF DO I DO?!” but I know that wouldn’t solve anything & would simply make me look like a loon. I guess I’m just feeling lost in a sea of people who know exactly what they want & how to get it. I feel drowned in complete uncertainty.

Again, all of this is meant to find common ground with you as a reader, if this doesn’t resonate with you specifically, I’m sorry. I also wanted anyone out there feeling this way to know that they’re not alone, that you are seen & heard & felt. You are deserving of success just as I am but sometimes the path ahead feels less like a road & more like an endlessly winding labyrinth. I am writing this not only to remind myself to have patience & persistence but to also remind you to do the same. They say good things come to those who wait, but I think that’s a bit of BS. I think good things come to those who claim them because they know they’re meant to happen. So claim your good things & don’t worry about the mess in between. Even Theseus relied on little more than a ball of thread to escape his own maze. Don’t get too overwhelmed by the massive walls around you or the things standing in your way, take it one inch of thread at a time.

Blog: Persevere

Hi lovelies, how has your day been?!

I hope you’re having yourself a wonderful August in spite of the garbage can fire that seems to be the world at the moment. There’s a lot of pain & heavy feelings going around & I know that so many of you are feeling them so deeply with every fiber of who you are. In all honesty I started this blog with a completely different intent in mind, I was going to write about something that has nothing to do with any of this but as I’m sat down to write, this is what has come to the surface.

I don’t want to get into the specifics of what is happening locally, nationally, globally, etc., not because I’m afraid to steer into the politics on it (you should know me better than that by now) but because I feel this blog needs more general appeal. It needs to be able to be stumbled upon years from now & spark something in the reader outside of the timeframe of its current intent. I’m not ascribing to this some grand purpose or importance because I know it won’t be that, this is just the thoughts of a late twenty-something with a heavy heart trying to inject the smallest amount of light back into the darkness in the hopes that it ignites something brighter in you that you can pass along.

The world is a dark place but there’s so much beauty to be had in it. I know at times that can be hard to see, we’re blinded by the headlines & the disasters we’re faced with, but I’ve found that humanity thrives best not in the moments of grand retribution & triumph but in the small moments that remind us what it is to be alive. It’s in the moments of soft realization where you are reminded of the things you love & why you love them. It’s in the daily mountains we climb, each looking far different from those of our peers but still often requiring immense effort to best. Humanity is found in the perseverance of life because how else do we define life if not the will to keep going even when everything is screaming at you to give up?

I know I don’t have all the answers, I don’t claim to & there is immeasurable beauty in that, in the mystery. We are amazing, luminous beings who often do such dark things to one another with little to no regard. We pick fights, we subjugate those we deem less than, we rage war, & rip apart our planet but I believe, in the end, the light will prevail. I know it’s hard. I know it is. I know there are days when it feels hopeless, where you feel lost in all the noise, or shoved aside, placed in the background. I know that feeling sucks. I’m not here to say the night is always darkest before the dawn, I’m here to urge you to look for those incredible moments of beauty. I’m also fully aware that this may come across as “fluff” or the drippings of my bleeding heart. I mean it, I do & I believe it myself.

I know things look bleak. I know that brighter tomorrow looks a million miles away & feels like it may never come at all, persevere. Just as Rome wasn’t built in a day, neither will the world or your world change over night, but brighter tomorrows are worth fighting for.

I’d be lying if I said that all of this had a clear end in mind. I just wrote what came up as it happened. These may end up just being the ramblings of the heavy hearted but I hope it ends up being more than that. I hope you get some substance out of it even if it’s the smallest of amounts. I don’t really know what to say to you other than I understand the pain that you feel, I understand the hopelessness, I understand the hurt & the abandonment you feel, I do but these are not the end all, be all. Keep pushing on & finding those moments of life that get peppered into the every day. Treat people with kindness & love unconditionally.

I love you immensely.

Happy Friday.

-C

Blog: Feeling Caught In The In-Between

I’m sitting here in my living room on a rainy mid-summer Friday afternoon in Nashville, TN, contemplating whether or not to go to an album release show that I was invited to this evening. Under normal circumstances the show would be a no brainer but when considering the rain (it’s outside) & the massive wave of COVID-19 Tennessee is currently facing I’m more than hesitant & that’s where I’ve been caught the last little while, in “the in-between.”

I’m going to once again apologize for my blog absence the last couple of weeks, I was spending time with family & was under the weather, which seems to be my new normal these days. It seems every time I leave Nashville I’m faced with the same questions; How is music going? When are you touring next? When does your next project come out? And these are questions I’d truly love to have answers to. It’s not from a lack of trying or a lack of interest or desire that my life feels held back from these things but it is more a feeling of responsibility.

As I’ve said in previous blogs, I took the pandemic very seriously, having a lot of family members in the medical fields & a lot of people I care for with auto-immune diseases, in addition to my own respiratory issues, I quarantined & masked up. As an artist, someone who is trying to make it in this business, that was hard. It was hard not only from the standpoint of having to halt any forward momentum I was having but also hard because I saw so many of my peers acting as if nothing had changed & going about business as usual, which I guess brings us to now.

I am vaccinated, I’ll happily proclaim that. I got injected as soon as I possibly could. I am also someone who has grown tired of this “anti-vax/anti-mask” movement & am 100% in favor of mask or vaccine mandates for businesses. I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines trying to be the good person who does what they can to help other people around me instead of whining about my freedoms but alas, those of us who are responsible & actually give a damn must sacrifice our own freedoms so that the selfish can continue to play & spread the disease & make things worse. I say all of this not so much to try to change the mind of anyone reading this who falls under that umbrella, because let’s face it, if the mountains of evidence won’t change your mind, how could I? I am more so saying all of this so you understand where those of us who are most vulnerable are coming from.

As I said, yes, I am vaccinated so I am protected, hopefully, from being hospitalized with COVID. That being said, I’d love to play shows, I’d love to go to events & be a person again, but I have this underlying fear or guilt that I’m then contributing to the problem. That I’m contributing to the filled ERs & the deaths, which in part, is true. I have so many friends, so many colleagues that are moving on, playing shows & what have you & I’m so jealous of them. I wish I could do that freely & not feel immediately guilty for doing so.

I’m caught in this purgatory of do I or don’t I where I know I’m vaccinated & know I can enforce that if I wanted at a show but I’m also the low guy on the totem pole, I don’t have the luxury of putting on a show & having it sell out in two minutes. So I feel stuck in inaction biding my time until the numbers start to dive again & I can psych myself up to booking shows again without the fear that they’ll just be cancelled again two weeks later.

It’s exhausting & it’s debilitating & makes you feel like crap but I feel a sense of responsibility that I wish half of the other people in this country felt as well. I’m tired of this pandemic, just as we all are, but the more days drag on, the more I’m tired of the excuses. We could be out of this, living a somewhat normal life if people would actually start giving a shit about their neighbors instead of just themselves. But I guess that’s the case with most things in this world.