I’ve come to discover that habits define relationships more often than one would like to believe. Think of an aunt or a cousin who has known you your whole life. How well do they really know you? Do they know how you’d react in a stressful situation? (Do they know that you sometimes say naughty words?)

Think, even, of a friend that you meet for coffee on a regular basis. Do they know what qualities you’d ultimately seek in a mate or does their knowledge of your personal preferences extend no further than “double cream, no sugar”? In my experience, it frequently takes a near catastrophe to break that surface.

Tonight I played a show at the Hillcrest Hotel in their gorgeous lounge. There was a full table of jubilant and feisty adults sitting close to my post. I sensed a playfulness that I could use to my advantage and told the story of the “free hugs” to warm up the crowd (and to warm me up too – it was COLD in there!). When I invited members of the audience to pass around some hugs, I was met with an immediate wall. It turns out that this was a group of co-workers with a routine of jollity that did not stretch beyond a two foot space bubble.

I’d been thinking about this post for a while now, and this situation happened to bring it home for me. There are the people who just seem to “get” you from day one. Then there are the people who remember your birthday but not your middle name. Then there are the people who will love you unreservedly despite a critical void in the questionnaire.

But how do you start filling in those gaps? Must there be an upset? Is there a secret formula for getting down to the nitty-gritty? Couldn’t it all start with a hug?

I wish one could barf out bad feelings as easily as one could barf out bad Chinese food. I also wish I didn’t have a lifelong phobia of barfing. That would make everything a whole lot easier.

But it’s never so simple. There’s no off-switch for hurt feelings or frustration or rage or guilt. There’s no sugar to help that medicine go down except carefully chosen words and the passage of sand through the hourglass. And sometimes even those can’t fix the problem.

I guess only time will tell…
___________________

I passed a pensive day driving my favorite drive. The No. 1 highway between Calgary and Golden is one of the most beautiful stretches I’ve ever seen: the mountains, the wildlife, the streams that look so inviting but which I know from experience are bone-numbingly frigid. It always seems to pass too quickly.

At Mad Trappers tonight there were so many familiar faces in the crowd, there were people standing on chairs to express their fondness for a song, there was a creepy dog in the car next to us, staring at me while I blogged and Darren unpacked the gear. Who could ask for anything more?

As a singer/songwriter, I do my best to be approachable. I want people to relate to my music and so I want people to relate to me. One of the benefits of having a roadie along for the ride is that I can spend my time after a show meeting and talking with folks, instead of packing up.

Despite the weight that I place on interacting with supporters, I’m sure they all understand that there is a level of intimacy that can never be attained in a five minute, post-performance, venue’s-closing-in-half-an-hour, kind of conversation. My brain may be scattered because I can’t eat my dinner until after I play. My attention might be interrupted by CD sales or gear inventory. BUT I STILL TRY TO BE ME!

I have a huge problem with talk for the sake of talk, for strategic flattery, for false confidences. If you want to be genuine, I’m grateful for kind words. If you want to tease, I’ll laugh at your sugary insincerity. But don’t try to sell me dishonesty; there’s no bang for the buck.

Anyways, it was another good night at the Ironwood: familiar faces to sing to and AMAZING food (holy cow their soup is killer!). I got a kick out of the colored lights.

At the Ironwood

Here are the lyrics of a song I’d written for a woman who passed away Sunday July 29, 2007.

When you finish falling
I know he’ll help you stand
I know he’ll help you up
I know he’ll always hold your hand
And when he brings you to the top
And pushes you again
I know you’ll have forgotten
By the time you land

When you’re down and out
On your own and trouble
Holding on and holding up
I can give you love
My love won’t be enough

Though it’s very dark here
You know your way around
You’ve settled like the dust
You’re familiar with the ground
And though you long to find the light
You fear the light will let you down
And so you kneel among the rocks
And pray you’re never found

CHORUS

I can’t stay here
I can’t stay here
I can’t stay here anymore

So when you’ve finished falling
He’ll help you stand again
He’ll push you down again
He’ll lift you up again
I’ll hear you cry again
I’ll hear you cry again
I’ll hear you cry again

I need a blood heater. I’m always cold! I’d think my heart was broken except that I’m too darn happy. We’re staying in a lovely basement suite (thank you Gail!) but it’s very chilly. When I used to play piano recitals I would run my elbows under hot water to warm up my hands; it worked like a charm. But hand is to elbow what entire body is to ???

Honestly I’m glad that it’s a little cooler, that way I can put off wearing shorts and skirts: not my cup of tea. But in May should I really be contemplating parkas? I’m very good at making goose bumps…

Thanks to Patrick and Mike and Laura and Jeanette (sp?) at the Ironwood. Oh, and to Paul the chef! Once again I was confronted by familiar faces from the past and it was such a lovely feeling. Isn’t it strange how years may have passed and yet there’s still such a strong bond? Sometimes even stronger, thanks to hindsight and experience.

So many things to contemplate and internalize. And while it’s all been positive, it’s hard to come up with a phrase to describe it except to say that this tour is turning into a real mind—f***…

I just started reading Marathon Man -> Don’t tell me how it ends! What a strange collection of stories told by Mr. Goldman: The Princess Bride, Heat, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, etc. It’s inspiring to me as an artist that he can tackle so many settings and so many characters. He doesn’t write for lawyers OR spies OR elves OR robots…

Un/Fortunately I really gobble these kinds of books, and maybe that’s exactly what I need when away from home: quick distractions, no challenge. But please, can someone suggest something with substance for when I get home?

Tonight I saw some old friends and recognized them immediately. The human mind really is an amazing thing. Or perhaps, as humans, we ambitiously expect that change occurs daily, that we come so far in 10 years that surely our superficial countenances would display the product of our growth, that we can bury ourselves in the sand of the hourglass…

As a woman approaching 30 I should appreciate more my ability to seemlessly juxtapose with the teenage version of myself. It’s bittersweet. I’ll be upsest next time they DON’T card me. At least the new me embraces such contradictions…

Thanks to Travis and Mike and Jeff at the Muddy Waters Café. What a comfy place! And man oh man, did I enjoy my Panini! I’m looking forward to heading back there for another evening of music tomorrow… (and another selection off their yummy menu!)

D125M100

Well, here we go…

It was a real treat to hear Coco sing again:

Hey mommy, can I go outside again?
I haven’t been out to play since I can’t remember when.
Oh yeah, it was yesterday and the day before…
Can I go outside again?

A keen observation of childlike flakiness or a revealing look at forward-facing human nature? Probably both, but you don’t have to take my word for it… It’s so easy to hear Coco’s voice through her music; she is in every note and every word she brings to the stage, and even in the ones she makes up on the spot!

Thanks to everyone who came out to the show. There were a few blasts from the past (Mr. Friesen from Saskatoon, Bryan from my days busking in Winnipeg square) and so many friends that have been discouraged by my unfailing commitment to hermitude (hermitation? hermitdom?). And even though up to 15 years might have passed since I last saw these folks, no one failed to comment on my short short hair. I’ll try to get some nice pictures taken and posted, but until I get used to it, I’ll be hiding it under a cap!

And don’t bully me to take it off or you might make me cry… Or write a song about you…

In a bittersweet twist of fate, my darling vehicle Enjie is on the road again and I’ve been left behind. Darren and I had a last minute opportunity to score another film and while I was really looking forward to playing the Apollo again, I just couldn’t pass this up. The project should be finished up soon and we’ll be flying to Toronto on Monday afternoon to join up with Coco and Simon for the London show that night. I’m so grateful for these gifts of busy-ness (and for my parents who still lend me their credit card to book flights even though I’m older than I look…).

So, two plus two: Darren/Cat + Simon/Coco on an extended double date. Or Cat/Coco + Darren/Simon on a portable, and hopefully profitable, commercial venture. We’ll see how the dynamic is born and raised. I’m excited to be travelling with so many people that I enjoy so much, but you never know what stuffing them all into 100 cubic feet will do.

Please keep us in your thoughts as we noodle around southern Ontario.