Tales from the land of tour-planning: From fear to stress to happiness to wine in one night.

Here comes the news of the day: 

This one-woman show is taking it to the streets. (And no, I am not homeless again...)

In case I haven't told you (or in case you haven't been inundated with the onslaught of personal info I have been tossing around) I am releasing my debut EP Our Glory in May (May 4th to be exact - YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST!) and I am planning a Western Canadian tour to support that (don't worry my east-of-Edmonton friends, I will trek out east in JUNE!). This will be the first time I have planned, and ventured out on a tour all by my lonesome, and I have to say: it's been such an amazing experience so far. And I haven't even hit the pavement yet!

In the past 2 weeks, I have sent approximately 50 emails to various live music venues, house concert groups, and just about anyone who will allow me to email them about playing in their garage/shack/veranda/Bavarian-inspired guest house/pet store/bowling alleys/ANYWHERE while in BC. I have come to terms with the fact that many (read: most) emails are not being responded to. It can be a little bit of an ego-bruise to me (just like all the letters I send out to all of my suitors. ALL those letters. To ALL those suitors...) But you know what, heck, I understand. Live music venues are like the popular kids in the room (let me finish-I think I am onto something with this metaphor...), whereas I (as a musician and a person) am the weirdo child picking my nose lying on a pile of similarly odd children all picking their noses in different and unique ways. Now those popular kids have to choose from a pile of snotty kids which ones they will spend their recess with each day, and I can assume that it is not an easy choice at all. (Metaphor achieved!)

                                           

What it comes down to is that there are only so many ways you can say "Hey! I'm an awesome human being and a great musician! Please oh for the love of all that is holy in the world hire me!" Before you have a bit of a mental episode.

I have been saying all that for 2 weeks now.

Commence mental episode (or would it be considered a mental series...?).

It actually isn't that bad. I have only been a bit more mental than usual, which is already on the going-mental side of things. I think I am doing a-okay.

And to be honest, all hope is not lost in the land of tour planning; I have gotten some bites! It is amazing. Who knew that an unknown-on the music scene lass like myself would get some responses! I am seriously super excited and shocked and happy, all at the same time (I know, it's weird). There are so many of us out there, plugging away at writing good songs, playing shows and doing the business of all that is musical, and here I am getting gigs in a province I have never played in. Yes, I have been working super duper hard at this, and I can see the work I do coming around and proving itself to me. Still, it  makes me take step back everyday and realize how lucky I am.

It's funny. The feeling I feel every time I go to write an email to a venue, or check my email, or look up new places to play, I feel like I am in the honeymoon stage of a relationship. You know that point at the beginning of a relationship (or in movies, the whole relationship) how excited you feel when you see that they've called you, or when you plan to see them, et cetera... (the closest I've gotten to that is when my cats pay attention to me because they want food). When I am working on my tour,  I get that funny feeling in my stomach that is nerves and excitement and joy all barreled up into one. It is such a wonderful feeling. I understand (just like all relationships) there will be a lot of work to do, but I am ready for it. I have been waiting to do this for a long time, and now it's happening. I couldn't be more happy.


Until the next time I can take a break from tour planning,

The girl who is going places-literally.

A dream is a wish inside of you that is clawing it's way out. Not unlike a fetus.

The other night I had a dream...

   -Wait. 

Now let's just hold up right there.  Before you say to yourself "there we go.  She's going to go all Philosophical and idealistic on us.  I knew this would happen sooner or later.  I am out of here.  And I am going to grab a pizza." , I want to assure you that I WON'T be that person.  BUT I will say that I love dreaming, the idea of dreams, and what they could potentially mean in some way.  But enough of that bull-honk.  Let's get back to my (some would say epic) story.

I'll be honest with you.  It's not the dream itself that was very amazing, or life changing or sobering (literally and metaphorically).  It was what happened the morning after the dream that was life changing (may I also point out that like the loser junior high minded boy I am, writing "morning after" made me think of sex and birth control... I know, it's a stretch, but I take what I can get...) Okay.  Right.  Back to this dream.  There was a stranger who appeared in my dream and sang music from the musical "Little Shop of Horrors" to me (If anyone knows the music from that show, you would be able to see that I am a true romantic at heart...) and I was hooked.  We were in love. 

Then I awoke to my cats wrestling on my bed.  And my dream life consisting of me falling in love with a firefighter (I just added that in, just a touch of back-story on my dream soul-mate) who looked vaguely Italian and had a fondness for singing songs that a giant plant would normally sing turned into the reality of me living the life of a crazy cat lady. 

The plot thickens here, my friends. (some would comment that with a plot that thin, there is nothing thick enough to save it, and to that I say, "touche") As I am sitting at my bookstore schlepper job, I look up and BAM.  Mr. "Firefighter of my dreams" is standing right in front of me, holding a book on travelling to Italy. 

I peed a little in my pants. 

At first I wanted to kiss him and scream in his face "YOU WERE IN MY DREAMS LAST NIGHT.  FROM THIS DAY FORTH, WE SHALL NEVER BE APART.  EVER." But after visions of me going to jail (and for the record, going to jail is on my bucket list), being labeled a stalker (also on my bucket list), and never seeing my cats again (NOT on my bucket list) I decided to play it cool. 

Or in Lindsey-terms, act like a mildly retarded person.

So with my insane wide-eyed toothy grin, I did my best not to break eye contact with him (this was hard to do, because he didn't like looking at me... was this a hint?  I THINK NOT), kept the conversation flowing (with witty remarks like "sure is cold outside" and "I only work here part-time.  I am a struggling artist." I don't know how he could resist me...) and had a slight to-and-fro swaying movement to indicate that I liked to dance (or was it because I still had a bit of a buzz from the night before...I guess I can't drink 2 bottles of wine in one sitting like I used to do...) when I hit him with the big guns.  I commented on how he was going to visit Italy and then I asked if I could join him.  He promptly answered "no." but that kind of "no" that has a slight tinge of disgust in the voice.  Not enough that I could be offended personally, but enough to know where we stood.  (And with my luck it would be at least 150 feet away from him at all times.) He left after that comment.  Never to be seen in my non-dreaming life again.  

Unless I can jimmy his window open while he is sleeping and go rifle his sock drawer.

That's what love is all about, isn't it?

I'll just save you all the time in sending me off countless emails and say yes.

In other news, I think I will quit my job and become a full-time dreamer.  Then my Italian fire-fighter who has a 59-pack of abs, supports my 2-bottles of wine a day drinking necessity,  also works for Doctors without borders and likes to garden will sing  "Feed Me, Seymour" to me as I fall asleep each night and will always be with me.  And he will also be with my 47 cats. 

Now that's a dream we can all believe in.

Until next time I am moderately conscious,

Lindsey "I DID have a dream" Walker