I NEVER SENT MY CHRISTMAS CARDS, PERFECTIONISM, 2014... AND CHANGE

(note: started this post 2 weeks ago)

I never sent my Christmas cards. I tried, but then they turned out grainy. And I just couldn't bring myself to send grainy. They are sitting right beside me, in a box, on my desk as I type. I thought, sending Valentines could be fun?! February 14th came and went, and I completely spaced it... kind of. I thought about it, and realized that I just, didn't have it in me. First time I haven't sent a holiday greeting in the almost ten years I've been married. Ten.

Also, looking back at my last post here on this ghost town of a blog/website, was the 8th day of Christmas, of the infamous 12 days of Christmas Give aways that pretty much turned into the 10 days of Christmas Give-aways. Yes, 10 is the new 12. Never say never, but I might never do a give-away ever again. I'll tell you my heart was so in the right place in orchestrating the most overwhelming give-away during the most overwhelming, I mean wonderful time of year, but it kind of was a disaster.  Sorry about that. Some people are really good at give aways, and math, and sports and letting go of unimportant stuff. I am good at none of those things. 

There is generally a part of me that really gets worked up on the inside over dropping the ball on items such as Christmas cards and give-aways. One day the worry police in my brain were on my case about both things, plus a few others that maybe were more important...  and I really got to feeling crappy about it all, and that's when suddenly I decided, it was not worth feeling crappy about. I decided! For once I could kind of grasp the silliness over the obsession with doing Christmas Cards, when I was reminded that everyone has seen and heard about my family, pretty much everyday for the last ten years. Thanks social networking. But wait, they don't have the paper version that comes in the mail and goes in the trash in three weeks, or in my case on the spot, because it arrives mid to end january when everyone has already ripped the dear things off the back of the door?! That sounds so bah humbug and cynical. That isn't my style. But sometimes you assert reality to get you through.

Really what I was hung up on was the idea of Christmas cards, or Valentines cards, and give aways. But in reality the act of sending Christmas Cards is one of the most time consuming expensive tasks of the season that kinda sends me over the edge every year. Like I end up having to go to the post office twenty times for more stamps because half of my family is Canadian and I never account for the extra postage... never, every time. Of course I want to design my own and have them printed on very fancy heavy recycled card stock paper for like one million dollars for 50. But then to save a little bit of cash I opt to go find my own envelopes (instead of having them made) for that custom card that is a really weird size, because I needed to be "artsy" and or "stupid", in which I will run to Staples, Office Max, Target, Wal-mart, Michaels and that other expensive stationary store in the mall to realize, yeah so they don't make envelopes this size. So I settle for envelopes that are bigger, and as I put each card into the envelope a little part of me dies, that it doesn't fit like a glove, that it's jiggling and floating around in there. I think of it shifting from side to side inside the monster envelope as it's traveling in the mail. Like fingernails on a chalkboard. Yeah, really, it's hard for me. As I write this, I'm embarrassed to actually say it out loud, or write it out loud. Because I don't think twice when other people send me pre-made cards, or smaller cards in bigger envelopes. I think "Yay! So nice of them to send me a Christmas Card!" Honestly I don't hold anyone to my ridiculously high personal Christmas Card standards.  I wonder why I can't go to Costco like all the other normal sane people of the world and just buy like 100 cards + envelopes for $15. 

I will tell you why, because deep down I am chained to the pursuit of perfection. Like, Pinterest Perfect, ya know?  And remember that whole, "done is better than perfect" thing? Yeah, I still just can't seem to get into it. Still aiming for "perfectly done", which really means "never done". So I thought about all of this and realized that, indeed I was more emotionally invested in the thought of Christmas Cards, then in the actual sending of Christmas Cards.  I should say, and say with em-phasis, that I love Christmas cards, receiving them is magical, and sending them is a kind gesture. But I realized that a big part of it for me, was for me, and that's kind of selfish and not what Christmas cards are supposed to be about. As of 2013, it will go down in History as that one year that I didn't send out Christmas cards. Maybe next year after I reform and simplify my Christmas card mentality, or just my mentality, I will get it done. Which brings me to 2014.

So first, Happy New Year! You may be thinking "hey brooke you know it's like March". And right you are. Here's the thing, you know that feeling you get at the start of a New Year? Like you are starting fresh, that you have a new vision, a sense of clarity, a burst of real motivation, the world is yours for the taking feeling?! As if that one singular day that transitions us from one year to the next, magically makes us able to change all the things that we were just completely incapable of being  able to change just days before. It's all mental, isn't it?

Well I didn't have any of those feelings. As a matter of fact, the dense Christmas fog hadn't lifted. The over-committments of 2013 woke up with me in 2014. And I was just... tired, confused, unmotivated and quite frankly absolutely unsure how to change any of it. I was very Eyore-ish. And that just isn't like me. But I think that my old ways have caught up with me and I can't pretend like it's working anymore. 

So I didn't write that "ready to conquer the new year" post that so many of us feel compelled to write. Because I was so very un-compelled. And much like the Christmas Cards and give aways,  I was worried that I wasn't compelled, or motivated. But then I also had the moment of being okay with not being okay with everything. I don't know if I gave up those worries because I just had no brain space for it, or I just became indifferent. I have to tell you I have a fear of indifference. But once you become indifferent, well it doesn't make a difference. Yay for the most redundant paragraph of all time! 

This is where I was, most of January. I tried to break free of my exhaustion and indifference and decide that even though I didn't know how to change, that I needed to start wanting it. And change is hard until, staying the same is harder. Bam, so I prayed to know what I needed to do to start the change process. So I made several lists. Listing things that I needed to do, commitments that needed to still be fulfilled, unfinished projects, emails and texts that needed responding, people that needed thanking, and lastly, things I desperately wanted to do... like paint, read self help books, take guitar lessons and practice the piano, finally plant a garden in my old greenhouse and take London to the beach. Then I just let it all sit there on the paper for a while, extraordinarily daunted. So I took out the scissors and cut about three more inches off my own hair for starters. Long true story. That's when anxiety hit, for nearly all of February.

(Part 2: Here is where I am picking up tonight, Thursday, March 13, 2014)

It is hard for me to remember where I was going with this blog post 2 weeks ago. My headspace has actually changed quite a bit since then. So I am going to try to pick it up from here. The list wasn't magically crossed off. That's when I realized that in addition to the things I needed to do, there actually was a list of things I needed to not do, or stop doing. I wrote those down. I also looked at those for a while and wondered how I would stop doing them, this was going to be hard. I realized that many of those things I needed to stop doing were standing in the way of the things that I needed to start doing. And thus here we run into the struggle of change. I decided there were five things I really really really wanted to do, become or change, and essentially if I could change them, then the mass of to-do's on my to-do list would likely take care of themselves or just be done.


1. Be on time: My due date was May 20th... I arrived to Earth two weeks later, June 2, 1983, my poor mother. Truth be told I haven't been able to catch up since. Being on time, or should I say running late, is a chronic problem in my life that effects many opportunities and relationships, and ultimately my self-worth. So much of my internal disappointment with myself stems from never being able to keep up and letting people down. I'm hard on myself about this. Others are beyond frustrated with me about my tardiness, and yet I am still late. Some people might cut me some slack saying "having kids slows you down", and while it's incredibly true, I have to own the fact that I was slow, and falling behind long before London. It is a real problem, it's a wonder that I have accomplished what I have. Despite my sincere efforts to get out the door on time, I have failed. Essentially, this is an issue rooted in my character, this is where my focus is, which leads me to number 2.

2. Say No: I have made the connection, that number one is a close relative of number 2. Generally my inability to be everywhere I said I would be on time, is because I struggle to say no. I overcommit. Overcommitting has been a life long habit. I don't know where it came from, trying to be everything to everyone has been how I connected to my own approval. Do things right a couple times, make people happy, and before you know it you're addicted, addicted to yes. There is a quote floating around saying something like "say yes and you'll figure it out later". Because People that say yes are go getters! movers and shakers! ambitious! working! rich! Famous! Followed! Commented! Popular! Liked! Loved! This is the mentality of the business I am in. This is the mentality of the society we are in. We all work so hard to get a break, that we just say yes, in fear of the lost opportunity, in fear of lost approval, of lost "love".  Truth be told, Yes can ruin your life.  I am discovering with each passing day that while yes is easier to say it is so much harder to do, and while no is so hard to say, it's much easier to do. This isn't about taking the easy way, but being real, being honest, with others and ourselves. Will we really be able to follow through? How will saying yes to everything cause conflict with other commitments? If we say no, what if we disappoint? Will we still be worthy, valuable, important, love-able... to others, to ourselves? Seems extreme, but I think this is the stuff we sometimes don't want to own as real, the truth, the root. I know I don't, but I am ready to change, so I am trying.

3. Be decisive: Wouldn't you know that number 3 is a cousin to 1 and 2. Indecision is paralyzing. Nothing stalls one quite like the inability to make a choice. Everything from detergent or toothpaste, to a set list, or what to say on the caption of an instagram, to how to respond to a text, what task I will complete during nap time, what I am going to wear to church, should I stay or should I go, should I be quiet, should I speak up, was that right, was I wrong? Too many options, so much second guessing, not enough trust in my instincts, in the spirit. Scared I will make the wrong choice. Often by the time I do choose I am out of time and forced to just settle on something. Settling, sucks. Settling generally causes regret, which causes less confidence in our ability to choose, and around and round we go.  Sometimes it's a choice of yes or no, will you do this? No could rock the boat, no would ruin my reputation of being dependable, being the hero, being a super human, just say yes. I have decided (look at me!) that a great deal of indecision comes from a fear of what others will think. Again, all of these changes are rooted in character. These are the hardest changes.

4. Listen : You may have noticed that I have a lot to say. Sorry, working on it. All this time I've thought that I was this great communicator, turns out I am a crap listener. Just because I know how to express myself, my feelings and emotions, doesn't make me a good communicator, it makes me kind of  self centered. Talking isn't communicating, sure it's part of it, but it is the lesser part. If we truly hope to connect with someone, it will be because we listened to them, heard them, empathized with them and sought to understand them, with out making it about ourselves, with out thinking about what we are going to say next, with out having to tell them how they should be different. Yes it is important to respond, and yet responding with validation is a delicate balance, without turning it into something about us. I fail at this hard. My mom is one of the best listeners I know, she listens, asks questions, repeats the thing you said to be clear that she understood correctly. When she meets someone she immediately asks them questions about themselves, and then she listens, with her ears, with her eyes, with her heart. People love my mom, because she listens. I want to listen. I want to shut my big yapper and open my ears and my heart, and take it in, and just be there, and maybe, if I am asked, respond with something from my story that helps the other feel not alone. Listening can change our lives, marriages, friendships, businesses and spirituality. Listening doesn't come easily to me, I want to listen.

5. Mindfulness: In other words, put the damn phone down. I don't say the D word, but sometimes it's necessary. The impulsive phone checking, in the middle of a sentence with our spouse or a friend, while we are with our babies. Being here now, such a test of our day. We see people in the cars swerving down the freeway, staring at their phone. Day after day, it seems we're all putting our lives, our relationships and our families on the line, in danger all for what's in the phone, and the psuedo-connection we find on the internet. Does it scare you like it does me? I'm dependent like the rest of them. It's fun, and it's an escape, and at times totally helpful and necessary. But, I worry about it's influence on my life, my family, my daughter. She is 21 months, she knows how to get to youtube and flip through videos of elmo. Is this a life saver in Target? Yes, but does it frighten me that she isn't even two and all day she just wants to hold my phone and press buttons and stare at the screen? Yes, yes it does. We're always looking down, in a trance, in restaurants, in the check out line, in bedrooms and dinner tables. I want to be in the moment. Instead of always checking, comparing, always pinning, wishing our living room looked minimalist but colorful, understated yet eclectic, that if we did these 5 moves our butts could look like victoria secret models and that if we just had that pair of leopard booties our wardrobe and life would be complete. Consumed by consumerism. I spend more I want more, and it never ends. I want to look up. I want to spend less, I want to get more out of my real life with my real family. I want to see it, feel it and realize as often as possible, how grateful I am. Documenting is wonderful, connecting is awesome, but where do I draw the line. Working on it. Mindfullness.

Each of these are their own posts. And with all that said, I realize many of these changes, and many of the struggles mentioned in this post are rooted in perfectionism. An addiction and real struggle unto itself. I am reading this beautiful wonderful book called "the gifts of imperfection". It is so insightful, uplifting and helpful and I would highly recommend it. If you are reading this and find yourself in similar struggles, you are not alone. Maybe pick up the book, say a prayer, find some self compassion, seek gratitude. We can change. 

JAMM: SOMETIMES LOVE...

Hello there! You have two options, you could either, one,  just watch the JAMM above and move along your merry way, the more time efficient option. Or two, you could watch the JAMM and read my 2 a.m. attempt at breaking down my productivity issues. Totally up to you, choose your own adventure : )

Sometimes Love, track 10 on High Hopes and Heartbreak, my full length post idol record. Can you believe that it's been over four years ago that I put it out into the universe? I love this old song, it's probably considered a B-side, it sits quietly near the end, those are always my favorites. I wrote it with Kelley Lovelace in Nashville. This song felt so right when we wrote it. It was a one take wonder in the studio. I remember sitting down at the piano with a microphone in front of my face, surrounded by the band. We hit record, I counted to four and played it and sang it, all of it happening all at once. One take, that was all it needed. I'll never forget that magic moment. Lucky to have had it. This song is special... listen to the words. Proud of these ones...

HOW TO SURVIVE A FRIEND BREAK-UP....

About six months ago I quickly scribbled a bunch of thoughts I felt inspired to share on a piece of paper, then I folded it in half and stuck it behind a box for a time I was ready. I found it tonight, so I think it's time. It's probably going to be long.

They say that breaking up is hard to do... there is a wealth of information out there on how to deal with the end of a romantic relationship, divorce or a separation with a lover. But what about when something goes wrong in an important friendship? It's a topic that I haven't seen a lot of talk about. I am ready to talk about it.

A friend break-up can be just as traumatic as the unraveling of a romantic relationship... we are left with a lot of loose ends, and the end of a friendship can dramatically change the landscape of your life, particularly if you live far away from your family...

SO MUCH...

So much has happened. I've missed the last three weeks of "just another music monday". I just couldn't pull it off amongst the chaos. I know it's not the end of the world, it's not like the New York times front page headline  exclaims "brookie babble fails to post just another music monday three weeks in a row, a real disappointment". I know it's just a really small thing I'm doing in my living room, but I kinda need to be doing it for reasons i'm not really sure of. I will get back on track...  next monday... or tuesday, okay, probably wednesday.

A dear family member has just experienced an unthinkable tragedy, I have been grieving hard with a heavy heavy heart for, and alongside her for the last few days. I am reminded that we just absolutely can not take this life and our relationships for granted. We are all so vulnerable. We just have to love people dang it,  we have to love our families, our lives, our homes, ourselves, our God. just love, as much as we can, for as long as we get.

On a significantly incredibly less important note, I cleaned out a closet, and in that closet was ten years worth of shoes.  As you can see from the picture below, I have a hard time partin' with my footwear, but it was time. Honestly it was the last thing that didn't even make it on my to-do list, but every time I opened that darn closet, shoes would literally come a flyin' at my head, so after being attacked by a falling heel one day I just started chucking them into a pile. Luckily I had my trusty little side kick, the Loo, to help me get control of the madness. Mostly she just sat there and smiled and tried to chew on the heels of some gnarly old shoes, but man is she cute. I didn't part with as many pairs as I should have but, it's a start, and it feels good. 

Before this happened, the girls with glasses took over my house and kaboom... it kinda looks like it exploded. Every wall was painted a different color, every piece of furniture has been relocated to random places and I think it might take the rest of 2013 to put it back together again. I don't remember feeling this bonkerz in a long time. However, we had a legit crew, and these are going to be our finest looking videos, we're excited. Details to come, stay tuned...

I teamed up with my gal pal, Ashley, the one and only little miss momma and did a little tu-tu-torial for the  boho crown braid, aka, my go to hairstyle for day two hair, or three or four... like cheese, or leather, it basically  gets better with time, live in it, sleep in it, drive with the windows down in it, and before you know it a bird has landed in it and found itself a nest, and that's when you know it's time to take it down and start all over again. See it, follow it, do it... step by step over on Little miss momma...

It's been a crazy time, but I love my family, and art, and music, and while life is stinkin hard, it is beautiful too, and I love it. Thanks to you all for watching my music mondays, for reading my jibberish and for caring. There is more, so much more, but it is time for bed. Goodnight.

ONE MONTH AGO...

It is June 24th... this means that I gave birth to my daughter,  London June Ray, exactly one month ago today. How can this be? Everywhere we go, we get stopped by strangers, they look at her with sentimental eyes and they all seem to say the same thing... "they grow so fast" or "don't blink" and "enjoy every second", and with every little passing moment I am acutely aware of this acceleration of of time... and it actually causes me a pain in my chest, a physical anxiety, a panic almost and I beg my beloved Londy Loo to please... Grow slow.

We stare at each other most of the day. And when she is asleep I stare at pictures of her, I've got nearly a thousand of them, documenting every last facial expression, cute outfit and tender moment. Yes, she even has her own instagram account dedicated to "a little bit of London everyday". I'm infatuated, deeply, and it's a bit ridiculous how much I love to just look at her, study her features, kiss her cheeks over and over, and hold her as tight as I can with out completely squishing her delicate newborn frame. I cry a lot, like the day she turned a whopping week old, or when her yucky little remnant of her umbilical chord fell off to reveal the perfect belly button, or when I saw real tears stream down her tiny face a few days ago. While  hormones and exhaustion are  likely the culprit, they can't take all the blame... real love such as this is intense.

As Ron Burgandy so poignantly and dramatically exclaimed, "I feel like I'm in a glass case of emotion!!" I am happy, I am sad, I am worried,  there is constant ache, a vulnerability and a confusing melancholic joy that I can't even describe. I suppose this is why it has taken me so long to write about it, which I was certain that I would do nearly the second I came home from the hospital. I wanted to get it all down, while it was fresh and new and powerful. But... I just haven't been able to find those words to articulate this kind of love, I still can't, and I couldn't find the desire to sit in front of a computer when I could be sitting in front of my beauty of a baby, and nor has she allowed me much time to do so. She is not one of those babies that snoozes the day away in a swing or a swaddle, nope not my girl. She is bright eyed, always looking up at me, melting my heart and demanding my attention when distracted by the buzz of a text message, requiring me to rise before the sun and stay awake with her till almost noon, She was quite literally born ready to give this life a real go. Even the lactation consultant who came to my rescue in the depths of my woes of nursing (so hard, a blog post unto itself) held my squiggly wiggly and alert newborn up to take a good look at her, and said to me "wow, this is a wild person!". Eventually I might likely grow weary, but for now I am so happy to just be right here with her, right now, taking in every bit of her sweet wild spirit. I'm not getting much done, but who cares, I've spent the last decade of my life "getting things done" and being a hyper-multi-tasker, overly ambitious and constantly stressed about "doing it all". However, a funny thing has happened to me, while I still care deeply about my music, my "projects" and being a girl with glasses, right now I am quite consumed with the desire to do one thing really really well, and that is to be London's mom.

That morning I went to the hospital to be induced one week shy of my due date, I was abnormally calm, as a cucumber. Now I realize I was just completely oblivious of what was to come, and thankfully so. Perhaps my subconscious was protecting me, blocking out all fear, because I expected no pain. Sounds silly I know, I was about to push a person through "down there", and with my one and only plan for an epidural in place ,  I anticipated to not feel a darn thing. However this was not my fate. From the I.V. to the anesthesia, to the epidural, to the catheter to the main event... I felt a lot. Unfortunately the right side of my body seemed to have complete disregard for the epidural, I could wiggle my right toes, do leg lifts, I pinched my thigh only to let out an "ouch"! My left side however was dead to the world, and if I had to push a baby out of my left big toe I would've been good to go, however we all know that the left toe is not the location of a babies entrance to the world. While my contractions were rather dull, the necessary region was still fully aware of every painful sensation. This was not good news, and that calm feeling was abruptly replaced with panic. I informed the nurse several times that "I think I need more".  I'll be the first to admit, I am scared person, I am fearful, particularly of pain. Through out the day the nurses and doctor would ask me "on a scale of 1-10, how is your pain?" It wasn't till the end of the experience that I'd gotten an educated sense of that pain scale. Basically I learned that my tolerance for physical pain was, low. Dave, calm and strong as he always is, held my hand while my body shook and sweat ruined the make-up that I had put on that morning in hopes that I would look decent in photos. Looking back at the pictures, that attempt was unsuccessful...

My mom and dad walked into the room after driving in from AZ,  along with my sister who had surprised me with her unexpected presence. Seeing them suddenly made me feel like a little kid lying in a big scary hospital bed and I cried... cause I was so happy to see them, cause I wanted my mom, because I was scared, because of the drugs,  because I was in pain, because in a few short hours I was going to finally meet my very own first child. My little sister who gave birth a year before me took my hair and tied it up in a knot on top of my head to keep it out of my face, she assured me I could do this.  Within a few short hours I had made significant progress, my wonderful nurse Joy went on her lunch break and assured me that by the time she returned, I would be having a baby. The anesthesiologist returned to give me a pep talk a one final boost of the epidural, and my right side began to feel dull in the nick of time. My doctor came in, assessed the situation and announced it was time to push. I had been listening to John Mayer's record "Born and Raised" through out the day to sooth my nerves and take my mind off the pain and anxiety of labor.  Those songs will always remind me of the day London was born...

I looked at the clock, it was just ten minutes past six pm. It was go time, I tried to calm my shaking body with the deep breathing techniques I had learned in my pre-natal yoga class. I wanted to be brave, I said a million little prayers under my breath "please heavenly father, please help me do this". I begged Dave to not "look", to stay up above with me, but he couldn't help himself and wanted to be a witness. He was amazing. I was relieved after my first push to feel pressure instead of pain... though the pressure was intense it was bearable to my worn out body. My tricky doctor would distract me in between pushes by asking me about how Dave and I met nearly nine years before at the Thanksgiving dance in Mesa. I would get to a certain part of the story and suddenly feel the strong urge to push. It was hard physical work. My dad waited just outside of the curtain to be saved from the visual of the birth, but I could hear him cheering me on from the other side. My mom and sister stood at my side wiping my forehead and taking photos that would document the most important experience of my almost twenty nine years of life. We never made it to the end of the story, and those final pushes I squeezed Dave's hand with all I had left, the doctor exclaimed "she has hair!" I was over the moon with just the thought of her little head of hair and I started to cry, I could hardly wait to see her, and with one motivated last push and she was out by 6:41pm, it was so quick and yet played out in slow motion, she didn't even cry, as they immediately placed her beautiful little body on my chest.

She was still covered in Goop, I didn't care, I felt like a momma lion with the instinct to nearly lick her new cub clean, but I held her close to my body and kissed her head over and over and told her "Im your mom! I'm your mom!" I cried, I laughed, I was so high. Never felt so euphoric in my life, all the pain, the pressure, the fear, didn't matter. Now I've gotten to do some pretty cool things in my life, had some pretty special moments, but none of them could compare to this one. Dave cut the chord, we huddled together, a little family. The love... the love.

They took her, they cleaned her and weighed her. Just as my ultrasound suspected, I had a big healthy baby, 8 lbs 12 ounces, 20 inches of perfection. My family all took their turns to hold her.  Watching them hold her I kept thinking "that is my baby". I couldn't wait to hold her again. As well I become intensely aware of how thirsty and hungry I was, little did I know I would not be allowed to eat nor drink during labor. Finally they brought me a fruit juice concoction that was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted and I chugged it faster then I should, only for it to come right back up. The room became quiet as my family went back to our home to sleep, the doctor left us for the night and it was us and our London. The responsibility for her life weighed heavily upon us. It was nearly impossible to sleep that night. Having never felt so exhausted I could hardly close my eyes. We watched her like a hawk, the tiny rise and fall of her chest. Picking her up at the slightest cry. Attempting several times to nurse her, it hurt. The epidural wore off and the pain of labor settled in. My body felt like a wasteland and yet I felt like I was floating on a cloud. 

The last four weeks have been nothing short of the most euphoric, challenging, exhausting, painful, happy, heavy, lonely, overwhelmingly joyful time of our existence. The spectrum of emotion is vast and extreme. It's amazing what a body can do in just over nine months, and though it might not ever be what it once was, is healing and changing almost daily and I am grateful for the miracle it produced. Nursing has been harder then I hoped, hurts like heck and yet is truly heavenly in those moments when it is working, it's getting better everyday. Dave Ray CPA, I've never loved and appreciated him more. He told me before she was born "I'm gonna be a good dad, I think it's going to be what I'm good at"... but he's way better then good, he's amazing. Turns out he's a full on baby whisperer. It's remarkable to see this sports loving, hockey playing, accountant turn into a swaddling, diaper changing, lullaby singing super dad.  The day he had to go back to work I fell apart. Parenting is a team sport...

There is so much more, but this is certainly long enough, and It's nearly midnight, I will with out question be awoken by the cry of a hungry lil' baby with a poopy diaper in less then two hours, and that nap I was going to take today never happened, so I'm going to stop here... for now:)

THE BELLY EVOLUTION....

14 weeks:

 18 weeks:

 20 weeks... I thought I was huge... 

 22 weeks...

 24 weeks... the only bare belly shot... and seriously that belly button popped around 3 weeks.

 26 weeks... I thought I was massive

 31 weeks... 

 34 weeks... thought I was in the clear... nope, here come the stretch marks... 

 37 weeks... no this is not photoshopped. It is real, and it is big, and it is dropping... more stretch marks

I am now 38 weeks, looking at these photos back to back for the first time and blown away by the evolution of this body.  Some days I feel like it can't possibly stretch any farther,  and yet with each passing week I am proved wrong, it grows and grows... and grows. This belly is large and in charge, I am stopped by strangers at almost every turn, persistent stares from restaurant booths, impulsive belly touching from people I've never met,  free advice offered at every encounter, inquiries such as "are you sure you are not having twins?", and the older ladies insisting that I am having a boy despite me informing them that I am having a girl which has been confirmed by very advanced modern technology on multiple occasions, and if I had a dollar for every time I heard someone say "you look like you are about to pop!" I would be pushing the millionaire mark. Even Dave spouts quite regularly "man! that belly is crazy" as if it's the first time he's seen it... he sees it every day. 

Indeed I am about to pop, and it is crazy, and while much of the attention at times feels awkward and unsolicited, I am very okay, and I'd have to agree with 'em, it is a site to behold, and while it happens to millions everyday, it is still a miracle and a wonder how a human being can grow within a belly, another human being. And in those moments when I am sitting and I instantly become claustrophobic and intensely aware of what I have deemed the pregnant "stack", where the boobs rest on the belly and the belly rests on the thighs and the legs become restless stumps with feet attached to the ends which I have not seen in months, and there isn't a single t-shirt left in my closet that will dare stretch to the borders of this watermelon sized belly, and I see this body in the mirror and I can't remember what it used to look like, it all is the most wildly miraculous reminder that there is a baby in there, a big healthy thriving baby, a pretty little eight pounder with round cheeks and a sweet plump pair of lips (according to the ultrasound) that I am about to meet in the flesh! AAAHHHH!!! 

The doctor doesn't think we're gonna make it to that May 31st... and while I will spare you the details,  apparently surprising and swift significant progress is being made. I've been walking, and contracting, and peeing, and making lists and finishing projects and vacuuming, wondering over and over "is this it?" and "what was that?!" and freaking out a lot because I have never done this before, and I don't know what to expect (even though yes, I have read "what to expect when you're expecting") and I guess I'm very scared of pushing this wonderous eight pounder through, and simultaneously thinking I'm so not ready for this and yet so very ready for this and want to see her now, but just need to fold some towels first! And I just keep thinking... I am having a baby! 

HOLY MOSES!

I AM HAVING A BABY...

HALLELUJA, PRAISE THE LORD.

ps. lots of texts and tweets... is she here yet? Nope, i will keep you posted. 

FACING FEAR...

I have fears... big ones, little ones, medium sized ones... served up like different size fries you order at McD's... "hi, ummm... i'll take the x-small fears please".

I have always been one that has been excessively afraid of a lot of things, from canned tuna and mayo to roller coasters, small fingers getting slammed in doors, teenagers, traffic jams under overpasses, halloween music, throwing up, clowns, escalators on the way down, and trips to the OB/GYN. The dark was always frightening to me, which is why my sister Katie Boo and I always shared the top bunk of our twin bunk beds. Seriously, till I was 17, when I moved out and had to sleep in my own bed in California, it was a traumatic transition to not have the boo by my side. I am not sure if it was the dark I was afraid of, or more of what I couldn't see in the dark, or what I might see... a ghost? I was scared of those too. Still am...

Then there are the serious things, stuff I don't even like to speak of or talk about out loud, the thoughts that torment my mind, what if's, worst case scenarios... generally involving loved ones, actually always including loved ones. Even the slightest idea of loss, or them getting hurt, physically, emotionally, spiritually is enough to create insta-puddles in my eye balls.  These terrible inner torments can wake me just fifteen minutes into a mid-day Sunday nap. That is when it seems to strike, woken by the intense thud of my heartbeat beneath my chest, nearly to an audible level, like an internal fire alarm. The sound of anxiety... knowing that in life we are all vulnerable to such things.

Way back when, over the Christmas holiday, I came face to face with a fear, not the serious kind I spoke of before, but a medium sized-not so serious-but still quite scary kind of fear. My job requires me to do a  fairly daunting thing on the regular, something that most people avoid like the plague, and for good reason... singing, performing, speaking and entertaining people is a really freaky thing.

Yes, it is a job that pretty much causes anxiety to reside permanently in the pit of my tummy. The kind that makes you feel like you might need to run to the bathroom real quick. Sounds fun doesn't it? It is... sorta.

I've always believed that I would never be able to sing the National Anthem. Not because of a lack of patriotism, indeed I'm proud to be an American but quite frankly the song scared the crap out of me to sing, (as does "oh holy night").  I have always sincerely believed with all my heart, that my 4-note ranged rhaspy vocalizer lacked the chops and capability to sing the it in a way that is honorable and respectful to the tune in front of stadiums of people... acapella.

Not to mention, in this day in age, if you mess it up, it's on the YouTube forever. (Kinda like this video that David Cook showed to me when we were on Idol, I'm sorry, no disrespect, bless the  heart of Carl Lewis, I find it amazing, and it has cheered me up on many sad days)

I have been asked to sing the Star Spangle banner probably close to twenty times at some pretty legit sporting events that would allow me national television exposure and Dave Ray CPA to live his dream of enjoying floor seats, box suites, meet players and eat free hotdogs.... and up until now I have dashed those hopes and dreams and turned down the Anthem about twenty times. It was a contentious subject between us, I would explain "you're totally worth it, I just can't do it, basically it's the musical equivalent to jumping out of an airplane" Another fear I can confidently state that i will not be facing, ever, and I'm cool with that.

So short story turned long, I got a call from the Phoenix Suns the week before Christmas, they heard I was going to be in town, and was wondering if I could sing the National Anthem at the first game of the season the day after Christmas... My first instinct was to say no, like I had done the twenty times before, but then I had realized that I had yet to find Dave a gift for Christmas... I was struck with "crappy wife" guilt and starting thinking about how many times he missed out on cool games, and much it would mean to Dave if I took this opportunity in the face of fear so that he could see his Sun's play! It was SO the perfect present... so I told them, "maybe, let me think about it"... the thought made me feel sick inside. Fear does that...

I decided I had to sing it for someone, I needed and honest third party opinion. I had sang it for myself hundreds of times in the shower trying to convince my disbelieving heart that I could do it, only to be embarrassed for what the shampoo and conditioner heard. Jack happened to be at my house the day I got the call, we were finishing the EP. I told him, "Jack, you MUST tell me the truth", he said he would, after recording two records there's no BS going on in Jack and White. I sang it for him, it wasn't perfect, it was a bit shaky, but he said "Do it Brooke! You gotta do it!".

So I called back those Phoenix Suns and I told them YES. Aaahhhh! I wanted to throw-up (secondary fear). But then I thought about how stinkin' cool it was gonna be for Dave and my family to go sit in fancy seats at the game. So in secret I practiced, I told myself I could do it, I thought positive thoughts, and I imagined it going well. What was the worst that could happen? My voice would crack? I could forget the words? Then I remembered, Oh yeah, been there done that, in front of forty million people this one time on American Idol. I survived and the world kept turning, and VH1 turned it into a best week ever skit, sweet.

The day after Christmas came faster then I hoped, Dave could hardly believe that his dream was coming true! Ah that was a good feeling that fueled my fire and gave me a good reason to do something I was truly beyond scared of. Love does that...

Game time was upon us, with my whole family cheering me on we drove to the arena and were greeted by our host. I was surprised at how calm I felt, still scared, but calm. I had prayed a thousand prayers that day, sang it for my sister in the bathroom and now it was time to punch my fear in the face good and hard. They gave me an awesome Steve Nash t-shirt that stretched tight across my growing baby belly. Thankfully they also provided me with an awesome purple Sun's jacket to cover up my protruding belly button that demands to be acknowledged (i've tried everything to get this navel to calm down, band-aids, duct tape etc... no luck, so now I just dare people to push it, i'm weird). We stood underneath the tunnel and cheered as we watched the players run through, we saw Steve Nash, he is so cool.

They led me to the court, my family hugged me and took their seats, Dave gave me a quick kiss and told me "you got this", I could tell that even he was freakin' out a little for me. I was too. I had recorded my first note on my iPhone, this was crucial, if I started on the wrong note i'd be sure to have a Carl Lewis "Rockets red glare" moment. I listened quickly and handed it off to the gentleman who then gave me a microphone, I hummed it as I heard them call my name, the crowd was cheering, the room went dark as a spotlight beamed down on me, my heart was beating like a timpany drum, I was pretty sure you could hear it pulse through the microphone I was holding in my shaking hand. I took a breath, closed my eyes, my throat tightened and I started to sing "Oh say can you see!" I don't remember much after that, except for a humbling effect of the song, the high notes were high and the low notes were low... I remember nearing the big note, the one I had feared the most "for the land of the FREE!", and hearing someone cheer "yeah!" and then the home of the brave and it was all over, just like that! NO WAY, I did it! I had no idea if it was good, but I did it! Dave was proud, strangers gave me high fives, my family cheered! I admit, it felt victorious...

My brothers girlfriend had taken a video of it with her iPhone, against my usual will, my dad talked me into to watching it back... boy I was relieved! It wasn't anything fancy, quite simple, but on pitch and I had remembered the words 99 percent correctly.



A dear friend that knows me well asked me the next day on facebook how I've managed to do things I'm scared of, I don't really know... truth is I don't like facing my fears anymore then the next guy or gal. Believe me I  usually take all measures to resist the stuff I'm afraid of, But there may be something that I dislike even more, and that is being controlled by fear, letting it take the wheel that directs my course, cause it usually means that I stop progressing, that I miss out on opportunities, that I don't get to have the experience, that I don't become what I'm supposed to become...  I then live with the regret of knowing that I didn't do the thing I should of done because I was scared, and that is a feeling I fear more then fear itself. Sometimes it takes being forced to the edge, being faced with an ultimatum that shows you what you're made of, like jumping to safety from a burning building. Then there are times that we do it for the thrill. And Sometimes you don't do it for you, you do it for your sports nut husband, or you go to the OB/GYN for your scary invasive check-ups for that baby girl in your belly cause you'll do absolutely anything and everything you can to make sure she is healthy and ok, and you will labor through pain to hold her in your arms. Whatever the reason may be, we find one that is bigger then the fear, we find a little courage and we just do it, and somehow we survive...

I've discovered, Generally if an opportunity scares me a little bit, even a lot, then it's a good indicator that I need to take it... And there is nothing quite like doing the thing you thought you couldn't do. 

BIG NEWS ABOUT A LITTLE PROJECT...

Welp, For approximately the last four months I've been on the go, on the road, playing my guitar, singing  songs, creating goofy girls with glasses videos, fixin' a house, recording records and oh yeah... keeping a big secret  about another massive "little project" I've been hard at work on... 

But it looks as though my belly is blowing my cover... 

Yep, I'm havin' a BABY y'all! WOW, how weird does it feel to say that?! Super Weird and yet super awesome! I've always said I wanted to be an "M&M" a musician and a momma, and it looks like that is all coming to fruition in my twenty eighth... almost twenty ninth year of life (by the time she arrives), and I have to say while it came as a happy surprise, and at the same time, later then I ever expected, I'm feeling great  about having a baby at this point in my life! 

This little gal is already keepin' up with the crazy, in my Ultrasound we could see that we have a serious Rock n' Roll baby on our hands... by the looks of it, she's partyin' it up in there! My doctor said, "wow she doesn't sit still! " and Dave Ray quickly spouted "just like her mom!". HA! 

my rock and roll baby at 12 wks, she's grown a lot since then

Truth is, I already worry about her every day, I just want her to be happy and healthy... She is probably already tired of hearing me say "are you okay?!" which apparently she can hear and feel the sound and vibration of my loud voice at this stage. Poor thing gets to listen to me babble and sing all day and night! She is also the size of my open hand and though her closed eyelids see light.  She is also gettin' fatter and taller... cute huh? 

Honestly, we can hardly wait to meet her, see her, freak out over her and just hang out with her and take her to Target and band practice, cause she is gonna be such a cool baby. Until May 31st I will just have to patiently prepare for her arrival. That is, if she arrives on time... and if she is anything like her mom, she'll be late. Actually I was supposed to be born on May 21st, and wouldn't ya know I decided to show up two weeks later on June 2nd. For all I know she could be born on my birthday just two days after... and I'd be a June baby giving birth to a June baby! Perfect Present...

Now, my rock n' roll babe and I must get back to recording a sweet new J+W EP due in January...

PS- This was a really hard secret to keep.

PSS- Thanks to my fellow girl with glasses and dear friend Summer Bellessa for making me this fun lil' video!! 

HOW TO BE ALONE...

Have you seen this? Apparently millions have, I have not until five minutes ago... and that is precisely how long the video is. Obviously it impacted me enough to immediately feel the need to post it and share it with ya...

Sometimes we must be alone, whether it is self imposed or not of our choice, it can be both a place of comfort and emptiness... I've been there, and likely you have too... and that is okay, if not vital. 

This is just something beautiful... an insightful interesting perspective...

PS- Should you go into the woods or city alone, please be very careful :-)

THE LIL' LIST...

I'm all about the Lil' list these days. I used to create these mammoth daily lists for myself,  they went on and on forever and ever... basically the short hand version would probably of been something like:

TO DO:

PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING THAT'S EVER NEEDED TO BE DONE BY THE END OF TODAY

This approach is a big frowny face No-win. I always felt overwhelmed by the list and disappointed in my non-ability to be super woman and accomplish all things in a twenty four hour period. Not to mention the inevitable burn out. I over promised to myself, and under delivered, and if there is anything that I should of learned during my two years of employment trying to sell shoes to highly maintained ladies of entitlement and granting returns of fifteen year old used bras in customer service at Nordstroms, it was "Under promise and over deliver". 

As I get a little bit older, I get a little more realistic... not a lot more, but a little. I am realizing that there is just not enough time to fulfill all my wild ambitions and expectations, I so sincerely want to do it all, and I want to do it really well... and it bums me out that I can't. I want to say, YES YES YES! It is such an easy word to say, and yet such a hard word to do. This becomes a habit in the business of life and dream achieving where your success depends on taking advantage of every good opportunity, and they all seem good don't they? My manager Brad has coined the phrase for me "always trying to fit ten gallons into a five gallon bucket". It made me chuckle and yet I continued living a life of overdoing,   and over promising and well... 

The bucket broke.

Lesson slowly learned... success is obtained by setting small achievable goals. Eating the elephant one bite at a time as they say. That is where the Lil' list comes in.  The rule: Keeping the number of items on the list to be done less then ten, and ideally no more then a handful of things. This forces me to get real with myself..."What is truly important today?"... starting with priorities, or sometimes urgencies, commitments to others and then perhaps if there is time, a few other small tasks that have a tendency to get over-looked... notice how I have to list "shower".

Truthfully, the Lil' list is changing my life. My productivity level is increasing, my sense of accomplishment rewards me with motivation and inner peace, I'm finishing more of the things I am starting, following through on the commitments I've made to others and myself... and not all at once, but one thing at a time, one day at a time. And let me say, there is nothing quite like crossing off those to-do's on your list, can I get an AMEN from the list makers?! 

Lastly, my level of awareness of how I CHOOSE to use my time is becoming more acute. I'm learning perhaps, that you can't say yes to everything and everyone all the time... I might even be coming to grips with the fact that sometimes, you just have to say NO... 

Now, saying the "NO" word is a whole other blog post unto itself... I'll put it on my list... the lil' one.

THE ARTIST SERIES: THE GOODS Pt. 1

"Talent is the magic dust that turns hard work into something special" - Malcom Gladwell

Well I am feeling conflicted on this first post of the artist series, I had started it earlier today thinking I knew what I wanted to say, but after taking a break to grab some dinner with Dave and mulling it over, and having read this article and listening to this podcast and coming back to it, I have already had some new insightful thoughts that contradict my original thoughts...  you could say that I disagree with myself, you could even call me a flip-flopper... so I scrapped it, and started over.

I am not the authority on talent, I'm the last person that would seek to crush a persons dream by stating a thought or opinion and someone taking it as an absolute, particularly a young fragile hopeful who is in search of their personal talents and abilities. For this reason, I take this post seriously. So let me say first and foremost, I know only what I know, the following words are based upon the accumulation of experiences, thoughts and feelings that shape my perception of talents and what makes a person gifted and more apt for success. But In the words of Levar Burton, you don't have to take my word for it.

I believe everyone can sing... for fun. However, I think most of us could agree that not everyone can sing... professionally, just as not everyone can play baseball in the major leagues, or everyone can be a rocket scientists or a best selling author. Why? Well for probably too many given factors to hash out here on the blog, but I think it would be safe to say that we all have different talents that lend themselves to becoming who we are intended to be, should we so choose. Reality... Millions will hope to sing to millions, but only few will sing to millions, but then some will sing to thousands, or hundreds, maybe in the school play, in church, in the choir, at weddings, or youtube and some will enjoy a life long career of singing in the shower to their shampoo and conditioner...

That being said, you never know if you could be one of the few, I couldn't tell ya. But first and foremost is discovering if you have the goods, or the "gift"... and if you do have it, I believe you will find it...

Barbra Streisand, Robert Plant, Marvin Gay, Karen Carpenter, Chris Martin, Bob Dylan, Stevie Nicks, Alison Krauss, Carrie Underwood, Joni Mitchell, Paul McCartney, Johnny Cash, Kurt Cobain, Tom Petty, Elton John, Carole King, Beyonce... they have it, they found it. And while they are all incomparable in musical style and vocal ability, they all have one common thread... ORIGINALITY. They are distinct... identifiable within seconds, their tone, style and extraordinary ability to let their soul be heard through the power of their voice, through the message of the song is what sets them a part from the rest. Though it is fundamental, It is not merely enough to just sing on pitch technically well. Voice lessons can help us develop healthy habits, improve our pitch, and explore the capabilities and range of our voices and strengthen them, but it is my own belief that there is only so much that can be taught. Tone, unlike hair color, cannot be altered, whether it is obscure, silky, gruff, smokey, delicate, bold or clear as a bell, it is ours, it is what we are born with. This is the basis of the gift, along with other important components, but not the end all... that "tone" must marinate in life experience, be used, worked, loved and expressed and challenged to truly become something spectacular... I think it is what turns an amateur into an artist, and gives a performer a persona, and turns a singer, into a star.

We all have our own ideas and opinions of what we think is the mark of a talent, or a good voice, we've all been conditioned by what we've listened to or been exposed to, if you grew up watching Disney movies, you probably believed the Little Mermaid had it all, I did. If you grew up singing in a Gospel church, a deeply soulful delivery is the mark of a truly gifted vocalist. If your dad listened to James Taylor records on the turn table then you probably find yourself attracted to simple heartfelt melodies and a guitar. Or maybe the first time you heard your older brother listening to Led Zepplin you knew that all that mattered was rock and roll. The super amazing thing is, all of these ideas and opinions and a billion others, are true, and can exist together. There is something for everyone and what a beautiful thing! Music, art and talent are subjective... and it is impossible to discount a persons talent merely because it doesn't match up with our version of what talent sounds like.

Now, getting real for a minute, there are some things that are given. You must be able to hear pitch, if you don't, it will be difficult if not impossible to become a professional singer at any level. If you are unsure as to if you are singing on pitch, then this might be an indicator that you do not hear pitch, but in the event that you could be and you are still unsure, please go sing for someone that does... okay... sooo...mom or dad love you so much that you might need to branch out to someone like a choir teacher or someone who has multiple opportunities to sing publicly to get an unbiased listen :-). This doesn't necessarily mean they are a judge of your talent, but they can help you pin point whether or not you are singing on pitch. This is vital. We do live in a generation where pitch is not high priority because it can be altered and fixed with technology, which is a bit unfortunate, but thanks to Adele, I believe we are getting back to the basics and more people want to hear a real voice, not a computer. And yes human voices have tendencies to be "pitchy" at times, even the best, that is not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about being generally on pitch or generally off pitch. If you can easily hear pitch this is a good sign that you are likely musically inclined to some degree. As I stated before however, singing on pitch isn't enough to set you apart from the pack. You will need to find other indicators that you have the goods to go, and I am not sure if they are as easily defined. We've talked about tone, we could get way into Image, though I am not going to in this post, it's already growing beyond where I intended, but... YES... IMAGE MATTERS. I don't want to get ahead of myself, We will dive into it later...

But being an artist is really about having a distinct sense of identity from the inside out!

Lastly I will say that essential to your gift is DESIRE...

How much do you want it? Your level of desire and motivation will greatly influence the direction of your gift. You must absolutely LOVE it so much that your brain will explode, that there is nothing else you love more, because loving it will turn into working extremely hard at it, because without a doubt you will have to, which will hopefully turn into becoming good at it, and hopefully exceptionally good at it... and as Malcom Gladwell suggests in his podcast, what you love will become your life. That is the dream... and it doesn't happen over night.

I had started out this blog by sharing my story (you can read part of the story here) of discovering my own gifts, and I have so much more to say, but decided that will be a part two of this post. For now it's time to give your reading eyes a rest and my typing fingers a break :)

UP NEXT: DEVELOPEMENT OF THE GOODS

THE ARTIST SERIES...

"What advice or suggestions would you give to an aspiring Artist?" is a frequently asked question, and a loaded one at that. Welp, truth be told I don't have the answers, if I did I'd be Taylor Swift or Lady Gaga, or maybe I would have found success faster... or at least more of it...  but what I do have is my own experience and more of it then sometimes I acknowledge... and a level of success I can be grateful for... maybe at moments content with, but not complacent with... I never will be. So what I hope to share with you is my own personal insight based upon my own personal journey along this windy path of dream chasing...

found via pinterest

I have been thinking about this post for quite some time... it was particularly prompted at the start of the summer as I was approached on the issue on my facebook page by a few girls that were looking to try out for American Idol... Well they didn't make it, as most don't... they were discouraged and disappointed, feeling  rejected (first tip: get used to the feeling) and wondering what to do next... Again, I'm not sure I have the answer, but I have some ideas, and I told them I would post a blog about it, so as promised, here we go. Seeing as I have been working at this thing for nearly a decade now (wow), this post could get long, too long, therefore I have decided to break it up into a series of posts over the next few months:

1.) THE GOODS: Talent, Desire, Identity

2.) DEVELOPMENT: you've got the goods, make them gooder

3.) THE SONGS: Your strongest asset

4.) THE STAGE: Prove it.

5.) ROLLER COASTER: Enduring the emotional ride

6.) WHAT DO YOU WANT: Expectations and Realities

7.) WORK WHILE YOU WAIT: The art of Proactive Patience

8.) GETTING OUT THERE: Find your audience and your opportunities

9.) GETTING SERIOUS: Time for management, label, attorney etc. It's about relationships...

10.) KEEP GOING: Remember, you love it!

First post up tomorrow: The Goods

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...

We are proud to present: 

AVAILABLE NOW EXCLUSIVELY ON ITUNES

We couldn't be more excited to give this to the world today. A big time thanks to iTunes for rocking the release in such an incredible way. To our amazing friends who have helped us create this lil' labor of love, we couldn't have pulled this off with out you. Team work rules. 

DANNY COCKE

BRAD FUHRMAN

JUSTIN BARNES

BRANT BILES

TREVER HOEHNE

LIZ FRANCO

GLENN WEATHERSON

ADAM CULVEY

STEVEN TRACHTENBROIT

MATT JOHNSON

(I FEEL LIKE I AM FORGETTING PEOPLE, FORGIVE ME, THIS LIST WILL GROW FOR SURE)

To you the fans, well, you are pretty much the reason we do this. 

Thank you for sustaining us and our art. We appreciate you so very much.

PS: if you aren't ready to invest $4.95 in JACK AND WHITE quite yet, 

that's totally cool, we gotchya covered with a 

FREE DOWNLOAD OF DOUBLE TROUBLE

.....................................................................

"If you build it, they will come."

C.Jane and Telephone Games...

Human Connection is so very important... As in face to face, Eye contact, Mannerisms, tone of voice, facial expressions, laughter, energy and spirit. Sometimes this great miraculous technology we have literally at our fingertips, can get us in a real pickle, and has been know to create some misleading barriers between what's real and what's not. What we see on TV, on a blog, on a forum, in a text or in an email can truly distort the truth about people, or situations and leaves us all to assume things we don't really know for certain, fill in the blanks with faulty details and place unfair judgements. I'm sure pretty much all of us have experienced this breakdown in communication at one point or another. I've been super guilty.

When C.Jane and I met, I was nervous, but my first thought was "let's just hug it out", i'm a hugger. We did, I liked her right away. Her face was soft and pretty and kind. We sat and just talked, with natural ease, about many things, of course we discussed, said our sorrys and laughed about the lil' blog mix up last year that perhaps got blown a bit out of proportion, and then we moved quickly on to deeper and more meaningful conversation, relating upon spiritual thoughts and real life stuff... and moms, I loved that we could talk like that so effortlessly. Unfortunately we didn't get to visit much longer then a half hour, I had to go sing. But when we parted ways, I left feeling enlightened... it was one of those life lesson learned of the importance of real human connection and the great understanding it can provide, and healing. Something that you'll just never get with a "LOL" or a smiley face emoticon. Ain't nothin' like the real thing...

C.Jane is one heckuva lady. I have been a reader of her blog for quite some time, reading stories and adventures of Chup, the chief and Ever, and was always rather blown away by her ability to express with her words, so honestly, eloquently, interestingly, humorously and with a heap of humanity. Her writing is developed and hearty, amazing. I admire this great gift. As intriguing and inspiring and sassy as her persona is on a blog, there is a woman that exudes a feeling of warmth and sincerity, that is felt infinitely more when up close and personal. Glad I got to witness that first hand...

She's also a hardcore music lover, a lady after my own heart,  she has been a catalyst in creating a budding and thriving music scene in Provo, Utah with the Rooftop Concert Series with the highest quality artists and bands. Upcoming is a super sweet band IMAGINE DRAGONS, (I'm obsessed with their song "EMMA") if you are in the area, you should definitely get up on the roof.

Anywho, we made these little acoustic recording and videos for our "Gemini" EP in my living room before I had moved in my furniture and properly hung my curtains. They are home made videos of course, raw and real, Jack rocks the Toms and I'm barefoot of course. We play with these talented and funny musicians, Danny Cocke and Adam Culvey, and it is such a joy for me. Making music is pretty unbelievable. So we wanted to debut this little tune that has become a personal favorite, kind of a daggar in the heart kind of tune known as "telephone games". Right away C.Jane came to mind with her love and passion for music. She so kindly and quickly responded with a "YES"! Woohoo!

On behalf of Jack and White, we thank you very much Courtney. It is so good to be supported by friends.

You are more then welcome to go take a listen over at C.Janes... TELEPHONE GAMES