Home Again

And so happy about it.

The gig went well, better than I had expected. I did nearly three hours of singing to a quite small audience. Not only is this a lot of songs to remember words to, it is also a long time to be standing up, not drinking wine. I am, however, an artist, and therefore must suffer for my art. If only drinking wine between songs is what is called for, then that is what I must do. I am very brave, indeed.

I did my own songs, many of which I have not uploaded onto the MySpace Of Annoyingness because although they are ready in acoustic versions they have not been suitably dicked about with in a studio to go public. I did plenty of jazz standards, some Paul Simon (America; Fifty Ways To Leave Your Lover; 59th Bridge Street Song) some Leonard Cohen (Famous Blue Raincoat; Hallelujah) and some random ones that I just happened to feel like singing (Downtown; Son of a Preacher Man; Moondance).

All in all it was fun for me and the audience seemed to enjoy it as well. I feel so relaxed and comfortable singing songs I haven't written, but when it comes to my own songs my ability to sing cabaret-style seems to dry up and the nerves flood in. I imagine that this is, of course, only natural. Not only do I have a lot more invested in my own work, but I have much less experience of presenting it as such, so it is inevitable that it is much harder to relax with. I also understand that practice will make if not perfect then a lot better. If I'm standing on stage singing Summertime or Ain't No Sunshine I can ramble on for bloody hours, experimenting and playing, and I sometimes genuinely forget the audience is even there. With my own work, on the other hand, I inspect the sea (or small puddle) of faces for signs of approval or otherwise, and I have to consciously tell myself to relax. Physically I relax my shoulders, search out eye contact, smile, all to prove that I am comfortable on stage. Because if I'm not then nobody watching me can possibly be. It is bloody scary and I never know whether I am fooling anybody, but I suppose that's part of the game.

At one point on Sunday there was a small child of about four dancing along to the music. The parents and others were standing around laughing at his antics, everyone encouraging him and suggesting dance moves. I sort of knew at the time that I should somehow use that situation to my advantage, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out how. If I had taken the mic over to him and danced along I might have scared him, or worse I might have stolen his limelight and alienated myself from the crowd. After the gig at least three people told me that I should have made something of the situation, but nobody told me how and I am still wondering. What would be appropriate? Would it really have been anything other than painfully obvious that I was trying to use the innocent enjoyment of a small child for my own ends? I'm still not sure. Any imput would be gratefully received.

So, I am home now. I have been scouting around to get a bit of temping work as I have some holidays to save for (last year: Biarritz and New Zealand, this year: Portugal and Malaysia! I kid you not) and bills to pay. I also have some heavy and scary re-evalutaing to do, about which I cannot really speak at the moment.

I feel like I never stop thinking about my career. If half an hour goes by during which I haven't schemed or planned I am very, very surprised. I know this has to be a positive thing because I am the only one who can make anything happen for myself, but I admit it is a little draining. What this realisation does confirm, however, is the fact that it is an extremely good thing that I have nobody else to be thinking about. I have been on a few dates, which is fun, but nothing to be taken seriously, and I plan on keeping it that way. So sorry, hoardes of beautiful men, you are just going to have to bugger off home (although I suppose you can take me for dinner and dancing first if you like.)

This weekend I am off to Cardiff. My friend Dan's parents live there and they are away at the moment so a few of us are going across to brave the Welsh and chill out for the weekend. (Maybe I will see Curly for beers?) Before that I am going to Warwickshire to do some babysitting, and then going to see the beautiful tassel-twirler herself, Miss Lily Dumont. An eventful few days leading up to some Wales-based fun, but I am certainly going to take some time to make some pretty major decisions and get my head together. Let's just say that 2007 has been rather eventful so far. I suspect it is the magic freckle doing its work (it does not always work for good).

Speaking of things that are magic, has everyone seen this: www.sparkle.the-magic-pony.youaremighty.com?

Can this be coincidence? Amazing. I am in awe, and so is Sparkle.

I have yet to speak to Impish Little Sister Sophie about it, but I think she is far too busy being Parisian and wearing cool clothes to have time to do something like that.

I am going to go and ponder it further for a little while then go to bed and try to silence the whizzing sound of my confused brain.