A month in which to be extra care-full

Welcome dear friends. If you’re reading this, it’s more than likely you’ve been following my Facebook page for which I am most appreciative. I want to keep this blog, which started as a snapshot of my life as a freelance musician, separate from my musical persona. My hope is that this new space will give me ever more freedom to express my true self without fearing any possible repercussions or negative perceptions on my professional life. I hope you enjoy discovering this new chapter in my journey as much as I enjoy writing and living it.

It’s been an intense old weekend with one meltdown followed by another and then another, and one more just to be on the safe side as I tried to take on a bit too much. I must think I’m some kind of wonder woman with super human powers, giving myself epic task lists for one day which I can scarcely achieve in a week. Any remaining stuff from the last week gets added on to the new week’s busyness. No wonder I feel like I’m on some fast spinning hamster wheel. Feeling a bit burnt out tonight, I’ve decided that other than Aquafit and Pilates and trying to bolster my social diary (if anybody will have me – I’m so poor at keeping in touch with friends), tomorrow is a do-nothing-much day.

I started decluttering today, butterflying around my house collecting disused nectar and trying to find places to stash it or good purposes for it. It’s nigh on impossible to discipline myself to focus on one room. My priority was making a dent in my shell shocked chaotic kitchen but I haven’t touched it. I’d share a photo but I’m too embarrassed.

I look like a hoarder, some sad single person they do cringeworthy TV documentaries about, up to my neck in my own mess. You should see the understair cupboard. I try to blame my lack of storage space but I’m sure I’ve got a problem with stuff.

My music room looks better but there are 5 piles to sort as well as the humungous orchestral stack. The office shouldn’t take long and the bedrooms are in pretty good shape.

The one big thing I really wanted to do eventually got done. Last. I got my stepladder down from the attic where it had been all summer and carefully clambered up it to peel a couple of crusty hunks of wood chip off the ceiling.

That was interesting. Taking photos with the intention of sharing them here helped me commit to completing the task I’d set myself, even if it meant I was up very late. I’m like a dog with a bone, a rebel with a cause. This tenacity has its upsides and its downs of course. I don’t have an off button. I have comas rather than full stops.

I’m trying to keep house business to weekends but seeing as my schedule is still so erratic, establishing a routine is a challenge to say the least. A little bit of nine to five would be ok wouldn’t it? Words that strike fear into the heart of most of us lucky self employed folk. I reckon the precipitous nature of our work is one of the reasons we stick to doing what we love whenever possible.

When I got home yesterday I bumped into my next door neighbour. He and his partner have been living here just over a year. They’re great neighbours to have apart from the noise from their DIY, sometimes late into the evening. I can tolerate it as they are grafters and genuinely nice people. Nobody would choose to live in a house while it’s being renovated. They must have some sort of deadline, I’m sure of it. Their house already looks incredible. They’ve renovated much of it, and yesterday B proudly but humbly showed me their kitchen which is finished except for a couple of minor details such as a cooker hood. It looks fabulous but I wouldn’t want that look for my kitchen. It’s, well, too perfect and almost sterile in its pristineness. The freshly plastered walls are totally devoid of cracks and blemishes and the room looks significantly smaller than my kitchen, even with all my crap strewn around it. The look they’ve chosen is quite industrial and trendy and that isn’t the look or feel I want for my house, although I did admire many of the features they’ve cleverly sourced online and elsewhere, and I might be asking for some tips when I get round to doing up my kitchen.

I have a very clear idea of how I want it to look but I’m not quite there with the layout. There is wiggle room and some scope to play around and I would need several long detailed Q&A sessions with builders, plumbers and tilers. I’m there with the colour scheme.

I’ve just accepted a couple of days work at the end of the month that fit in with my intention to build a schedule that keeps me closer to home. I don’t know one of the pieces so I did a little research on it before accepting as it’s by a composer with whose work I’m completely unfamiliar as well. Check this out:

How could I possibly say no?

I have another piece on my music stand which I get hyperactively excited about, so much so that it becomes difficult to practice, it’s so far from how I want it to sound. It’s almost autobiographical. Much of my life and what I’m about encapsulated in one short piece of music.

I recently listened to an old tape recording of me singing, one of my first forays into competitive music making aged about 8. I’d listened to it with fascination a few years ago and forgot about it until my latest decluttering episode. It’s a keeper and I’m trying to find a way of sharing it with a select few. Maybe here? What came up for me was the struggle between my obsessive love of music and the competitive aspect that came soon after it was deemed my talent had some value. I hated the competitive side of music making and I still do. It kills something. It removes any natural flow and freedom. I swear if my most private practice moments could be captured in a recording and sold, I’d make a fortune, but as soon as you point a microphone or camera in my face, any spontaneity vanishes into thin air. A bit unfortunate for someone who makes a living out of performance wouldn’t you say?

So far, the much feared and loathed January has been one of the most bearable Januaries yet. My inclination to hibernate seems to have done one and I’m motivated most of the time and early up. I do 3 business like walks a week and the weather has been uncommonly clement. On a weekend when it’s not chucking it down, I get a longer inquisitive, intuitive frolicsome walk in. I put my more buoyant mood down to implementing quite a disciplined routine as such as possible, with meandering flow time built in on a weekend if I’m not working. The other factor contributing to my Bouncuary is necessity. If I don’t get my business looking healthier in the very near future, I’m going to be in deep shit. I’m pulling out all the stops this year and releasing my inner ruthless musician bitch. She is in there and ready to come out if and when necessary. I don’t feel a sense of entitlement but when I consider ELEVEN YEARS INTENSIVE STUDY and the only thing blocking me from making my living doing what I love is money and the bastard internet, it makes my blood boil. Not just a little bit. A lot.

In the meantime, I’m on annual leave next week and I’M NOT TAKING THIS BLOODY FUCKING LAPTOP. I’m off to the beautiful coast and I can’t wait to feel the sand beneath my wellies.

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