Nashville Day #3

Yesterday was a pretty chill day. I felt settled in at the hostel, I got some much needed sleep, and didn't get out of bed until 11. While I was being delightfully lazy in bed, I heard the door open and was glad to find I now have a roommate! Her name is Colleen, she's in her early 20s as well, and she's from Connecticut. She's a writer and decided she wanted to pick up and move to Nashville. We hit it off immediately. I've never been to Connecticut, so she filled me in on what life is like there and in the New England states. She strongly suggested I visit Boston and Burlington, Vermont. My trip here has made me realize how badly I want to travel and see the world. We chatted for quite a while but I could see she was exhausted from the trip, so I left her to have the room to herself for a while.

If you've never been to a hostel (I hadn't until this week), all you need to know is that it's almost exactly like living in a college dorm (minus the drama), but it's run like a hotel/motel. The more people I talk to, the more I find that not many Americans like to stay in the hostels, it's mostly people from out of the country. It seems like there's some weird connotation with hostels in the States (I blame it on that stupid horror movie) that doesn't appear to exist elsewhere. I think hostels are just more popular elsewhere as well. Anyways, on the first floor of the hostel, there's this community living space with sofas, a kitchen, television, etc. so I decided to hang out there for a little bit. I ended up talking to this guy from Brazil named Poul (sp?), which is apparently a nickname; When he was younger he was fairer skinned and had lighter hair, so his family would tease him and say he looked like he was from Poland. His hair and skin got darker as he got older, but I guess the name stuck. I'm sure the nickname is more comedic in Brazil. Poul spoke English fairly well, just a bit of an accent, but he seemed incredibly self-conscious about it. I asked him about Brazil, what it's like there, and what he thought was odd about the states. One of the first things he said was that he misses the food there. I wish I could mimic the look on his face when describing his first experience eating Wendy's. As much as I love greasy food, I'm pretty sure I speak for all Americans when I say that we know our food is crap; We just enjoy eating our crappy food, that's all. We talked a little longer until the conversation eventually led to music; There wasn't many other people in the lounge with us, so I went over and started to play the piano a little bit. I was glad to find Poul likes to play the blues so we jammed for a bit, and even had another guy join us, using a bar stool as his hand drum. Our drummer was a foreigner as well and I would have liked to talk with him more but his English wasn't as good and he seemed much more reserved than Poul. Regardless, we had this beautiful moment of bonding through music, even as complete strangers and despite our language barriers.

The evening came quicker than any of us expected, so we ended our jam session and parted ways. I made plans to hit up the open mic at Dan McGuinness Irish Pub. I got there early to make sure I could get a spot. Turns out I came super early so I sat down and had a beer while I was waiting. Turns out I was sitting next to the owner of the bar, Quinn. He was there with three of his buddies and they were curious about this young female that walked into a bar by herself. I told them I was from Pittsburgh and that led to a very PG-13 conversation about Ben Roethlisberger, whom he'd had the pleasure (displeasure?) of meeting before. We had a good laugh about it and chatted some more until the conversation eventually turned to music, as it usually does in these parts. One of the owner's buddies was a sound engineer and he shared with me about his time here in Nashville. Pretty much from that point on, everyone kept trying to convince me to just move here. haha. Maybe some day. I stayed and talked about twenty minutes or so with them and then went up stairs to the open mic. I'm still trying to get used to how friendly everyone is here. The regulars see someone new at an open mic and really make an effort to chat with them and make them feel welcome, and it's an awesome feeling to know you're constantly around other songwriters. I saw some familiar faces from the other open mics I've been to this week and even before I performed, some of them came up to me to chat. I could go on forever about all the advice given to me last night alone.

It was my turn to go up and perform. We each were able to perform one song and I felt like playing "So Far Away". I got a few compliments on my colorful keyboard. I've had this dinky keyboard since I was like twelve and I doodled all over it, but they seemed to like its character! I was glad to see that the performance was well received and I was really able to network/exchange info with people. The host even wanted a picture with me! I felt like a million bucks! It was probably just because I was a new face, but still. I felt pretty special. lol It's so hard to try to write about everything that happened because there was just so many conversations with so many people,  I truly could write several pages about it. It's just incredible to feel a part of something even as an outsider. I feel like I fit in with these people.

I stayed a good while after the show but as I was getting ready to leave, I looked out the window to see a film crew filming right in front of the building. I had an awesome parking spot right where they were getting shots so I figured I'd wait to leave until they were done. We were all kidding that it could have been for the t.v. show "Nashville" but it could've been for anything, really. Either way, I was pumped that Francesca was in the shot. I always knew she'd look good on film. 

Nashville Day #2

I wanted to blog last night, but I was super tired so you all will have to suffer. My bad :-p

So my night with Candida was fantastic. We stayed up pretty late just catching up (I haven't seen her since high school!) and it was nice to have somewhere warm to sleep! She showed me around the city and we took a ride down Music Row...crazy to see everything all in one place. It was a lot to take in! After our little tour I decided to drive past the Grand Olde Opry and spend some time at the Opry Mills mall. I was there once before but that was several years ago so I thought it'd be worth my time to check it out again, and also try to do some Christmas shopping (which was an unsuccessful mission, by the way). I forgot how awesome the Rainforest Cafe is. I didn't stop and eat because I didn't feel like paying (it's my inner Jew) but the atmosphere is so cool. I didn't really shop, just sort of people watched. However, I had to check out this hippie store there and I ended up chatting with one of the employees, who (surprise!) is a musician as well. It's just neat that everyone here has a story. Everyone is from somewhere else going somewhere else and they're all excited to help others out along the way.

One of the highlights of my day was when I got into the car after walking around the mall. My first day here my key got stuck in the ignition of my car for no reason and by some act of God, I was able to remove it yesterday. Yay for the small victories! Also, my car hasn't fallen apart so that's also super exciting. Yay Francesca!

There were really only two things on my agenda yesterday: find an open mic for the night and find a place to stay. I was more concerned about the latter of the two so after the mall I went and checked in at the Hostel right in downtown Nashville. It's cheap and I'm pretty sure this is where all the broke musicians go when they're staying here. As I was checking in, I ran into the Canadian guy I met at the Bluebird Cafe, so it was nice to see a familiar face (if only a day old familiar face lol). He came with me to the open mic last night but left early because his flight back home was early this morning. Hope he had a safe trip back!

I heard a few people at the Bluebird say they were going to go to the Douglas Corner Cafe the following night so that's where I decided I would go. I should've called in earlier to get a slot though because I ended up being dead last on the list. I think it worked out well though; I stayed for a couple hours listening and then was able to get to bed at a decent time. I ended up sitting next to this comical guy that played the first round. He sang a song called "Catfish" that was about an experience he had meeting a woman online that wasn't as she appeared to be...he was giving me all this free music of his and kept wanting to buy me drinks. A little creepy, but I think he meant well. Nonetheless, I was glad I was able to leave whenever I wanted. lol

I came back to the hostel, watched some Southpark, and fell asleep in the middle of the episode. Timothy, I didn't watch another episode of Breaking Bad without you. The things I do for love...

Nashville Day #1

The minute I got here I knew I wanted to document this crazy ride, so here it is. I left Latrobe a little bit later than I was hoping to yesterday, drove all day, and decided to call it a night when I got to be about an hour outside the city. I was exhausted and after a failed attempt to get comfy in my station wagon (hereafter referred to by her name, Francesca), I caved and got a cheap motel room. The king sized bed was awesome, the rusty shower, not so much.

I woke up this morning admittedly anxious. Or terrified is probably more accurate. It finally occurred to me that I was within an hour of Nashville, Tennessee with nothing but Francesca and my half broke Yamaha. Craziness. Unfortunately, the motel I stayed at did not have wifi so I drove across the street to McDonald's and tried to figure out a game plan. I checked out all the open mics and it looked like the Bluebird Cafe was where I should plan to be for the night. Awesome decision. When I had my fix of coffee, I drove the final hour into the city and the second I got there, any anxiety I previously had disappeared off the face of the earth and was quickly replaced with an incredible elation. With nowhere to go, I drove around aimlessly and walked around where I could just to kill some time and soak it all in. The city is fantastic when you have nowhere to be.
The next few hours were sort of a blur and I'm still taking it all in. I just got done performing at the Bluebird Cafe and am now sitting in a McDonalds (yet again) stealing their lovely free wifi. I could continue in lengthy detail about all the specifics but that seems too tedious of a task. i.e. I'm too lazy to type it all out. It was three hours of nothing but original music from people all over (some from England, Australia, and Canada!). I played one of my original songs and was one of two people to get to play a second song (woot!) and I wasn't booed off stage. Success. I was actually surprised to find that I wasn't the worst musician in there, although I wasn't the best either.

I found a place to crash tonight. So glad Candida Sylvania was able to hook me up. I also ran into two of the musicians from the open mic sitting here at McDonald's and they suggested a hostel in town so I think I'll probably head there in a few days.

That was a lot of text. If you've read this far, well done. You must be bored beyond belief. I'm going to go sit on reddit now. More adventures tomorrow.

Fruit

She just sat and gazed intently, staring with every desire in the world fixated on that pear. But she was just an orange with an undesirable bulbous figure . 'The pear has curves in all the right places,' she would think to herself. She became lost in her thoughts, fixated on the smooth exterior peel of the pear that seemed to have a flawless, lustrous glow. She'd give anything in the world to look like that, even if it meant giving away the parts of her that make her who she is: an orange.

But within this orange lies a juicy nectar full of nutrients and life that the pear does not possess. The delicate peel of the pear would never provide the safeguard needed to protect the flowing riches that lie within a single orange.

And yet, so many oranges want to be pears.

Quicksand

Lights all around

And I can feel where the air meets the ground

I pull back my hair

And try to feel, try to feel what isn't there

Tell me that where my feet hit the ground I can stand

And tell me that I'm not walking on quicksand

I slip on these shoes

And try to walk like they're not loose

And when I've had enough

I try to grab ahold of the air that's not there

Tell me that where my feet hit the ground I can stand

And tell me that I'm not walking on quicksand

Who am I living for,

when the depths of my soul scream for more?

And I can't fool my heart

to be something it's not

Tell me that where my feet hit the ground I can stand

And tell me 

That I'm not walking on quicksand

Wide-Eyed

Sometimes I feel like a little kid walking around a world that's so big.

My eyes wide open to everything, just watching.

And I'm still learning. Do we really ever stop? It seems the longer I'm here, the more I realize how much there is to know, to learn, to grow.

Only in admitting this do I look around and begin to see, to see that we're all one in the same. It's not a measure of who's burden is heavier; it's about the burdens being carried, and that we're all under the immense weight of them.

I'm learning to share this commonality with others, even when they don't see it in me. Everyone's at battle with something; it's part of being human. Often times we just forget that, I think. We get so caught up in the midst of ourselves that we don't just watch and listen.

Dizzy Spell

I wonder if you laugh when you see me walking around in circles from above. But from down here, it seems that any straight path I walk on just ends up back in the circle. Once I'm in, I can't stop myself from pressing my foot back into the craters I'd left before until it's impossible for me to tell which footprints are new.

I'm getting dizzy.

Consumed.

Everything around me is a blur.

I suppose all I can do is keep walking around in my circle.