Blog

Stolen Season greeting cards up now!

One of my pirate sisters suggested the other day, after seeing the images in this blog post, that I offer greeting cards for solstice of the images. 🙂 Kirk Lanier, my gracious photographer, told me that sounded great, gave his permission, and told me to sell a million. Yesterday I went through the fairly friendly process of setting up a Zazzle store, and now I’ve got one greeting card and one notecard design posted!

This is the photo available on either a greeting card or a notecard right now. Sorry we didn’t think of this in time for you to have them for the Solstice! Next year. ((nod-nod))

The store is currently very bare bones, but this is an experiment. If Zazzle and I continue to get along, I will consider posting more designs and photos. Maybe I can get my act together and actually share my years-long backlog of random photography with you all!

Check out my Zazzle store

I get about $1 for every card. That’s not nearly as big a return as I get on CD sales or downloads, but I’m still looking forward to designing cards and stuff to share.

Other mundania: The best friends are the ones who stop by with adorable toddler in tow to bring you homemade chicken soup when you’ve been sick. Thank you, Melissa and Cora!!

New!kitty Gawain is still doing fine and has integrated himself into the household with hardly a bump. Even Pooshka is mellowing about the situation- sources say the two boys were seen on the same couch together at one point. Gawain’s main activities continue to be napping, purring, snuggling, and now playing!

Bright morning thoughts

Thought the First: this statement by a Heathen group in the Bay area is one of the best, no-nonsense examples of an oath of solidarity I may ever read, and you should read it. This is what our future norm looks like, if we commit to it and keep it alive. This is what I hope to see more of, what I myself will work toward. This matters. Black lives matter. Well said and well done.

Thought the Second: Bekah Kelso had her premier online concert last night, and it was great fun! She’s broadcasting another one with her full band as Bekah Kelso and The Fellas on January 28, via Concert Window.

Thought the Third and Most Fuzzy:

It got too cold out to continue working in my (only cursorily insulated) studio yesterday, so I moved operations back into the main house. It’s Arkansas weather in December, though, so it’ll probably change back to warmer temperatures before I’m done. 🙂 The last two mixes for the new record are coming along nicely. I’m beginning to think that my hardest work is done.

Moving back into the house to work has some side benefits. This morning, I’m sitting at my nifty homemade fold-down desk on the ground floor, watching my partner and our cats radiate contentment as I type. Well. Some are radiating more content than others just now.

Dancing in the Dark

Wintertime in Arkansas can be downright strange. It’s a wild night outside as I write, safe indoors, listening to my wind chimes rock a wild ballet. In spite of the impending winter solstice, I was outside in a t-shirt for part of the afternoon. Weird.

Wild and windy nights fire creativity and magic. I’ve had two very productive work shifts in my little recording studio over the past two evenings. (Yes, the cold is on its way out at last. Thanks for the well-wishes!) I’m closing in on completion of the new record, bit by bit. It feels good, especially now that I’m down to working on the two songs which have intimidated me the most throughout this process. It’s not that I worry I can’t do them justice, I just really really REALLY want to make them sound epic.

After tonight, I can honestly say I feel like I’m getting close. Possibly even leveling up.

Songs in the Forest- Gratitude, Creativity, and of course Cats

For the past few days, I’ve been fighting my first cold since April. It’s on its way out, thanks to much rest and tea and soup. Gone are the days when I can push through an epic virus and keep working, it seems. A great deal of my time has been spent flat on the couch, without oomph enough to do anything beyond checking social media. And thank goodness for all of you there, and all of your posts! You’ve kept me smiling for days when bright spots were few. Blogs and Twitter and Tumblr are a way we can all entertain and educate each other for cheap- as an entertainer, I can appreciate the simplicity of this, despite my occasionally frustrating love-hate relationship with social media. Thank you all for giving me lots to look at and think about when my energy’s too sapped by viruses and sneezing to get out and do things!

In spite of the epic snot battle, I have gotten plenty of good work done on the next record this week. I’ve only got two mixes left that need a first complete draft, and the rest of the songs are well on their way to being ready to send to my mastering engineer. I’m still hopeful that I can post a digital release on my listening page before Christmas!

The shopping cart system here on my main website has apparently been mysteriously losing orders for months. We’re working to fix the problem now. If you’re hoping to get a physical copy of something of mine before Yule is over, go ahead and order through my web store here, but make sure to use Paypal if you can. I get a direct email every time a Paypal payment goes through, so I’ll be watching closely for messages.

Part of my lack of energy today is due to the fact that our house was under siege at dawn. I heard some minor catlike disturbance going on downstairs before sunrise, so I tiptoed downstairs to investigate. Sure enough, we had an intruder. He was a very sweet, seemingly well-mannered fuzzy intruder, but an intruder nonetheless. My cat Pooshka was on guard against the threat: a young, un-neutered bobtailed male kitty, with short fur and a coloring that I think cat breeders would call cream tabby (pale silvery fawn or red, with subtle white stripes).

This little man’s been coming around for about a week now, not for the first time. He was also singing his own song outside my recording space last night, putting studio kitty extraordinaire Pooshka on high alert. Ryan and I are not prepared to take on a third feline, and our two cats aren’t sure about it, either. The problem, of course, is that he’s darling, very affectionate, intelligent, and adept at finding the soft spots of cat people. This is a cat who’s been around cat people, I’m certain, otherwise he wouldn’t already know how to flop over in front of me, insinuate his way onto my lap with no invitation, or (he actually did this) LEAP FROM THE GROUND into my arms while I’m standing in the yard. This last leads me to believe that he’s also pretty healthy and strong.

Bass Blizzard!

From time to time, I moonlight as bassist for my friends.

My buddy and bandmate Ben Deschamps in Toronto just uploaded a new instrumental tune, on which he was nice enough to let me play my 5-string bass!

Visit his page to listen to the tune, “Ninety-nine at Nine”, and read about what inspired it. It’s a traveling song. Actually, it’s a driving-through-a-blizzard song. I’m home safe at the moment, but I can certainly relate. 🙂

(That’s Ben with the dimples. The epic Viking dimples.)

In Community We Trust

My very favorite local place to give concerts is closing after Christmas eve this year. It’s been almost exactly 365 days since I first walked through their door and shared a show with Big Bad Gina on their beautiful stage.

That sort of news is always sad news.

But I’ve gotta hand it to Sandra, Beth, Hector, and the rest of the La Lucha/The Locals team.

In one of the classiest “measure your success” moves I’ve seen in a while, they’re not closing up shop and fading away. Not even close. They’re preparing to go nomadic within the community, and continuing to kick butt and raise awareness and support for local farmers and crafters. “A recently awarded Local Food Promotion grant will allow the organization to continue supporting local producers, and connecting the community to local food, art, and culture.

“The USDA’s Agricultural Marketing Services grant will infuse Conway with more than $90,000 to create a local food aggregation hub and to implement pop-up farmers markets in diverse locations around town. This program has two objectives; the first is to increase the volume of food small local farmers can sell in Conway by providing an aggregation point and by helping to manage relationships between farmers, local restaurants, and other institutional buyers. “We will also continue to develop excitement and consumer education around the local food movement through pop-up farmers markets” says Director Sandra Leyva. In the Spring and Summer of 2015, the organization will be planning and implementing pop-up markets complete with street musicians, artisan goods and an attractive bike-mobile–a pedal powered cart that will allow for easy transportation and display of fresh produce.”

Sounds like a great party to me. 🙂

Read the rest and become part of the movement here. Keep an eye on the website as plots and schemes develop for 2015. I’m gonna do my best to stay tapped in. I really believe in what’s happening here.

Those of you who are local to Conway, mark your calendars for this weekend, December 13. December 13th from 11am to 7pm is “Shop The Locals Day”, an open-house style event in which some of the more than 20 producer members will be present to chat with the people who buy and enjoy the fibre arts, soap, pottery, treats, and goodies they make. Don’t miss your last chance to check out The Locals on Van Ronkle and show your love for the community space.

I’m pitifully sick with a cold today, but I’m guzzling Ozark Cold & Flu tea (which I picked up at The Locals on Tuesday, by the way) right now. And I’m gonna keep on doing so, so that I can come out on Saturday to help celebrate this transition and my sweet, small-and-mighty community.

By the way, there’s gonna be a kick-ass show there tonight, as well. Head downtown if you’re interested. Go for me, because I’m contagious right now and don’t wanna inflict this cold on my peeps, their peeps, or anyone at all.

Creepy Shanties R Us

For the first time in my life, I’m often surrounded by (and thus having more opportunities to be comfortable around) little kids. It’s cool. Just like big kids (which is to say, grownups), no two are the same. And you never know what music they’ll like.

One of my friends mentioned on Facebook today that her very young daughter knows all the words to one of my creepiest tunes, “Glashtyn Shanty”. “Sailing Song” is its lighter foil, and she also knows that one by heart. It’s interesting to note, though, that she’s not the only very young person in my life who’s given over the light song for the dark one. Another friend’s little boy absolutely adored “Kashkash” and “Heresy of the Lost” for a long time. My own faery godson, Kaius, will drop his shyness and sing “Glashtyn Shanty“, which he calls “Glashtyn Go”, in verrah srs 2-year-old fashion with a whopping roomful of adults at a moment’s notice. I have seen this happen. And felt my heart swell. And grinned a bit, for several reasons. One, I know that if the little ones like a song, I’m definitely doing it right because they rarely hide what they’re feeling. Two, I liked creepy stuff when I was a small child, too (Mussorgsky, Stravinski, “Monster Mash”), and it makes me happy to see little ones grooving on it now.

So here’s one for the creepy kid in us all. This is another collaborative work in progress. It’s a lullaby for Davy Jones, that folkloric ruler of shipwrecks, cousin to Met Agwe and Charon and Neptune and the Reaper him/herself.

Nobody cares for you Davy m’lad

Nobody loves Davy Jones Davy Jones.

Forever you captain the souls of the dead

In your galleon built out of bones, of bones

Your galleon built out of bones.

In Memory and Joy: The Ballad of Laurelei

On my birthday in 2012, my friend Mark Lewis, master storyteller, sent me a very special gift.

It arrived in my Gmail inbox.

It was a long ballad, composed by Mark, which he said was mine to do with whatever I wished.

At the time, I was at a small birthday gathering in Redmond, WA, with members of the Lost Girls Pirate Academy. We were having a coloring party at Soulfood Cafe, decorating custom pillow cases for the children’s hospital. I asked the pirates’ permission to share my treasure, and they listened eagerly.

With Mark’s blessing, I soon added my own flair to the words, adding a verse here and there and editing the rest but barely, and turned the piece into a song. We were able to perform it together the following summer in Eugene, Oregon, with the help of the wonderful Betsy Tinney and her cello skills. Mark played bass recorder on stage with us, all unscripted.

Yesterday evening, I found out about Mark’s death. It happened two days ago. He was sixty years old, and I had heard from him that same day, confirming that he had agreed to be at a festival with me next August. My memorial post is here, and the beautiful community memory website is here. Faerieworlds photographer Byron Dazey has compiled his best photos of Mark, where you can see his great heart shining out like a star in every single shot.

Everywhere online, in the wake of Mark’s passing, bright souls are generously sharing their best memories and photos of him. The joy cannot help but trump the grief, such was his magic and the strength of his giving and willingness to connect with anyone and everyone he met. I’ll take a turn now and share the first of two songs that Mark and I were working on together. I am so glad to have had the chance to create something with him at all. I miss him, and I can’t wait to get this song recorded. I hope and trust that he’ll be proud.

The Ballad of Lauralei (Nothing Lasts Forever)

by Mark Lewis & S. J. Tucker

Far away in another time

When worlds were young and fair

In a village by the sea there dwelt

A lass with auburn hair.

Her beauty was known for miles around

Her eyes were bright and green

Her figure fine and face sublime

Like none had ever seen

She came to wed a fisherman

A rascal, old and grim

None in the land could understand

What drew the girl to him

She cooked his meals and kept his house

And cared when he was ill.

Hers was all the sunlight

His, the dark and chill.

She played her part like all the rest,

the women and the wives.

We loved our town beside the sea

and kept our quiet lives.

We knew she came from far away,

but none of us would pry.

We came to know her and to name her

Little Lauralei

Time was I called her dearest friend

and often I would spy

a secret dancing in her smile,

a twinkle in her eye.

Storytellers Never Die

This post is in memory of my friend Mark Lewis: storyteller, father, mentor, teacher, magic-maker, myth-maker, memory-maker.

photo by Sandra Buskirk

Over the past few hours, since I heard the news of Mark’s passing, I’ve spoken on the phone and online with many other people who are dear to me, all of them mutual friends of Mark’s and mine. We make a pretty vast and bright constellation of stars, all of us together. I have been wishing for a portkey, one that we could all grab onto, that would bring us to the same fire circle tonight, where we could all sing and share and tell stories about this wonderful man who touched our lives.

In Mark’s company, I have been a fae creature, a performer, an Auror, a queen, a mermaid, an Actor, a Lost Girl, an accomplice, an improvisational accompanist, and an audience member. None of those experiences were less than incredible and sweet, and I treasure them all.

photo by Yona Appletree

I look around me online tonight, at all of my friends and acquaintances who knew him, and at friends I’ve not yet made as well- others who have had their lives changed by the words and wit of this dear man. We are a lucky bunch, indeed. What better proof that he led a full and fascinating life could there be than this- the madcap, marvelous, mischievous people who honor him tonight? I’m sure that he must be proud. I hope his wife and daughters will be proud, too, once their time of grief has been honored and allowed to conclude.

This is the way it ought to be when someone dies, when anyone dies: that we can all look around at each other and see the good in each other’s eyes that that person has done. All those who love that person, shouting to the skies how much good and magic he brought to them. All of us coming together to remember, and with such joy, despite our tears. I hope we can all do so well as Mark has done. I miss him. My love goes out to all of those who are also missing him tonight, and who will keep missing him for the rest of their days. What a wonderful family we are. My heart’s not big enough to hold how wonderful it is, to know that we are all united in our memories of Mark- as my sweetie Ryan said, the Mark mark upon our hearts.

Visit the memorial page.

Video Links, Current Events, Comfort, Joy

I’ve uploaded parts Two and Three of the SidheHaven Full Circle concert! The audio is sub par, and I apologize. We salvaged what we had from the live stream archive. It’s a relief to me that we had even that to work with, because Bekah and I found out in the middle of the event that the Concert Window service had had a major breakdown. Now, everybody who missed the last 45 minutes of the concert in realtime can see it. 🙂

We live in the future. It’s not all concerts and perfect roses in the dead of winter, certainly not in recent weeks. I have the luxury of taking time to appreciate the things that make me happy. Many, many other people don’t have that right now. Thousands of citizens across the globe are putting their lives at risk in protest of police brutality. Family members of murdered men and women are mourning lost loved ones right on top of the holiday season. Mothers are watching their sons’ and daughters’ martyrdom, or else their notoriety and demonization, grow in significance at an astonishing rate. Before our very eyes and under our hands, the shattered pieces of so many broken systems are growing sharper and more deadly. Anger grows, but with it, awareness and willingness to make change.

For my part, I am working to become the right sort of ally as fast as I can. I am keeping my mouth shut so that other voices more relevant to the struggle than mine may speak, and I am listening as hard as possible. Praying, in my own witchy way, for those in pain. Appealing to the deities of justice, change, and healing. I am not on the front lines. I hold great respect and concern for those who are. May courage be rewarded. May those of us who are left in the further future be graced with good sense and compassion. May we continue to learn. May we be better, in all sorts of ways, at all sorts of things.

I might be better off putting the following in a separate post, because it’s a total 180. But it’s as en vogue on the internet to share photos of your cat as it is to share strong opinions.

So here’s Pooshka.

Pooshka is a longhaired black mackerel tabby of indeterminate breed, and he’s about four years old. I am his, and he is mine. We’ve only known each other for a short time. He is perhaps the most affectionate cat I’ve ever met, though he is capable of withholding snuggles until after forgiving me for having gone out on the road for weeks and weeks. He’s not perfect, none of us is, but he makes up for his mistakes (“Sooj, check it out, I found this mouse! Look at it go! Oh, huh. It got away behind the bookshelf. Hm. I gotta wash my toes.” “Ryan, are you working on the deck? Whatcha doing? OMG ACK THIS STUFF IS STICKY I MUST RUN BACK INSIDE AND ACROSS THE CARPET NOW”) by earning his weight in stress relief and companionship. He often joins me in my little recording studio while I’m working, and his manners in that workplace are nigh impeccable. He has only once interrupted a vocal session to add his own two cents. Most of the time, he warms my lap while I am mixing a project, purring to beat the band, or else he naps on the armchair near my altar shelf.

I learned just recently that if I wrap him up in a blanket on a cold day, on the couch or the bed, he’s likely to stay there. Even when I leave him behind to go elsewhere in the house or on the property, to do things which don’t involve petting him. Boyo’s got his priorities straight.

So, apropos of nothing other than comfort and joy, have some photos of my snugglebug partway in and out of his blanket this morning. On the couch, exactly where I left him last night. Captions welcome. 🙂