orangerie

i find that the more shows i do, the less i have to say about them; i suppose that's a good sign, that i'm becoming a professional and growing as a musician. i also suppose it's a little disapponting, because the more competent i become as a performer, the fewer and further between come the jittery pre-show butterflies that make the whole thing so...singular. which is not to say that i wasn't having a good time, of course. i had a great time up there, and i like to think that i was very, very on, with the exception of the bridge to detour. that ended up a bit of a mess. let us discuss it no more. there was much in the way of screaming and yelling and yodeling (from me; from the audience there was good-natured heckling, thanks in no small part to the World's Sluttiest Top™ and the leather pants) as well as some proper banter once i got comfortable--about halfway through the set. i sometimes wish that i could get two-hour sets, because i don't really hit my stride until about six songs in.

and the funny thing is, i didn't really think about r. while i was up there, beyond an awareness of his presence in some of the music. even when i was playing the new song, even when i was shrieking the chorus to 'hallelujah' (a song i'm certain i've forever ruined for him), even when i was singing the song i wrote about our twilight days as a pair. before and after, oh yes. a great deal. painfully so. but while i was up there, during the time that had kept me up the night before with worry for my own ability to soldier on, he was merely a peripheral thought. for some reason, i find that absolutely uproarious. in a perverse, metaphysical way, however, it makes sense: in order to get through the set, i had to squeeze all the emotions i'm feeling about him out of it. which meant that they spilled out into the preamble and the postscript. or something. but i think that's a nice image. kind of like a lovelorn cannoli, if that makes any sense.

anyway. for the first time in about ten months, i walked out of the orange bear without a set next booking. i was tired, and i'm tired of playing there, to be perfectly honest. it's been my primary venue for nearly a year, and it's time to start putting my nose back to the grindstone and selling myself to new venues. or take a couple months off. whichever. and if that doesn't work out, i have an open invitation to call in and book another show (behold, the power of scantily clad bosoms when you're dealing with a male booking agent).

but don't worry, i'll still be around. in open mics, in the studio and in your dreams.