My dream as a child that Marvin Gaye was my daddy I am aware is just that- a dream. If my birth parents didn’t keep me, it’s clear that there was a compelling reason and none of those that I can imagine are very jolly.
"NoteSpeak performed at the closing of the literary festival JLF@Boulder and blew the lid off the house. They had the audience on their feet throughout the incredible 90-minute set! A pure treat!" Sanjoy K. Roy Managing Director of Teamwork Arts and co-founder as well as producer of the Jaipur Literature Festival.
It is unreal the number of people who have told us how much we look alike. Though I’d love to be as handsome as he, we just don’t see it. People seem to love the idea of siblings sharing the stage and here in Italia family is, well- FAMILY. Though our bond is deep, and I think that’s what people are really responding to, familial resemblance has nothing to do with it. That would be down to our shared childhood. You know how going away to camp as a child draws children together so quickly? How fighting side by side in a war or as a volunteer in the wake of a natural disaster creates a sort of instant bonding? People who go through life altering or traumatic events together develop an impenetrable solidarity.
But what are you going to do? Five minutes after meeting them stress the importance of the extra responsibility these parents must face having adopted a child of color? Encourage them in a few seconds to be vigilant in helping that beautiful baby to know, to really know that she is beautiful? Prevail upon them to celebrate her color and compel them to help her to install a fierce, strong, stable, sense of self? Warn them of the arduous road ahead raising a black girl in a predominately white society???
The myriad occasions that we almost met make me want to believe in fate. I think that’s true of almost every couple, especially when newly in love and thinking of all the events that needed to happen so that your historic meet might take place. The same holds true for bands that are formed organically; it seems such kismet that circumstances conspire to bring together all of the elements that then produce magic.
Oh hurrah we ARE still alive and WWIII has not yet begun. Can we please work hard to keep it so? Also, The Sicilian badass Franca Viola changed the mindset of thousands of women in 1966 when she refused to "save her honor" and marry her rapist, and while I'm here- more regarding the birth parent search.
The inspiring Vladimir Luxuria, Italy's first transgender member of Parliament, danced so hard, so fiercely and with such abandon, she broke a spaghetti strap on her dress and I helped her turn it into a strapless gown. I was so moved to meet this famous gay rights activist that I was rather beside myself and as she danced wildly in the middle of the crowd I came up dancing just as wildly with her. She was gracious and enthusiastic with the constant stream of people seeking photos; emanating light. Vladimir is the very essence of "being the change"
My writing room sits perched at the very top of our house where I can pretend that I am in a lonely garret, while the Maestro is two floors below in our home studio/spaceship... I painted my study walls brick red as soon as we moved to our house here on the lake. That deep dark color feels womblike and enveloping… makes this room safe and warm, while conveniently encouraging my bohemian fantasy. Marco soundproofed the studio and covered the walls with old album covers and ordered vintage Star Trek posters from America, only the original series would do. Atmosphere for his own cockpit. Those were literally our priorities in an empty house.
Yup This oughta be on the setlist. I love Marco's arrangement!
We both dreamed songs and woke up in the dead of night to scribble the ideas down before the grey dawn could snatch them from us. The night he dreamt of “Shame on You”, he sat bolt upright and ran from the room to the piano, beyond excited, mumbling the hook until he got to the piano and started composing. He pretty much wrote the entire song that night and then gave me the title as my launch pad for the lyric which also followed incredibly quickly.
Beyond the craft behind constructing a song or a poem, and all which that entails lyrically and musically (that’s another blog entirely!), songwriting is often about making a personal experience universal. If one wishes to reach a broad audience, many folks must be able to see themselves or their ideals reflected in that song allowing them to relate to whatever it is one is chirping on about. In contrast spoken word is a much more direct expressive vehicle. The very nature of the art form is that it is confrontational and holds nothing back.
I keep feeling like I’ve gotta stop with the political posts… I oughta write about something, anything else. Like Johnny Cat- look at him, he’s adorable and he’s the best cat. He gambols constantly. Or maybe something about what a lovely happy thing a bidet is. That’s it, I told myself as I sat down to write today, no more politics, instead an ode to Johnny the Cat in the bidet…. But somehow it’s so insistent. Every time I sit down to write, the clamour of the articles I’ve read this week drown out the sounds of whatever else is waiting to be written.
Was Che Guevara more influential than John Lennon & who matters more during Trumps reign; artists or revolutionaries?
The view from here…
Last night here in Italia, Brescia to be specific, NoteSpeak pianist-co/composer Marco and I had dinner with two close friends. One reason, among many, that I love these people is for their impassioned thoughtful discourse. Last night’s discussion revolved around their outrage that someone might be as moved by John Lennon’s murder as by Che Guevara’s and we began to debate the idea that the artist’s work cannot have the impact of the revolutionary’s. You might assume that I would vociferously protest ...
(Lyrics below) As I sat at my piano yesterday, thinking about all of those women marching around the world, the image of them planting seeds for future generations came; and that garden lead me to Michelle Obama. Suddenly it became a song for her. Giuliana Pagnotta and I sat down to write another thinly veiled Anti Trump song. I’ve got a few of them by now! This last week has been so disturbing and we felt compelled to document it…
As America gears up to swear in Trump as the 45th president I’ve been watching the brouhaha from across the pond. I voted from Italy, which is where I currently reside, and it is monumentally frustrating yet oddly comforting to watch events unfold from afar. The distance certainly affords me a bit of objectivity. I am sure that U.S. television is...