Chattin' with Charo! Yes!
Too fun! Who knew when I awoke yesterday morning that by nightfall, I would be chatting on the phone with Charo???
Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that a couple of birthdays ago, I got a great voice mail from Charo, wishing me a happy birthday & advising me to "not get pregnant." My dear friend Peitor Angell in Los Angeles is one of her record producers, so he put her up to it.
He also put her on the phone with me yesterday b/c I had called to chat when they were both in the recording studio working.
She gave me some beautiful advice about playing the guitar -- not to worry so much about my skills but to instead "make every note sing."
Re-opening myself up to my musical side has been a little journey I've been on for a few months now. Getting the new piano, keeping the guitar out, keeping it reasonably in tune. Part of all the stuff that's rearranging itself inside me as I try to work on the memoir.
After my first suicide attempt, when I was 14, I was unable to play the piano anymore. Well, I mean, technically I could play it, but emotionally & mentally, I shut down. It was too stressful. I didn't react that way to the guitar, though. I kept playing that for years and, of course, played professionally in New York City from 1980-1994 when I was a songwriter. And while I was in my 20s, I was getting really good at the guitar. Even though on stage I only played rhythm, at home with my little 6-track recording studio, I worked with different strumming and hammering techniques -- just like Edide Van Halen!! (You would not have been able to tell us apart -- except for the multitude of glaring differences, that is.)
Anyway, all that music stuff that was crammed down tight in some little cubby hole inside me is bubbling back up these days. I'm nowhere near as skilled as I used to be, but I don't really care. I'm just enjoying it.
And yesterday, when Peitor handed the phone to Charo and said to her, "Talk to Marilyn; she's a singer and a guitar player, too." It was, well, rather interesting to be referred to in that way when I haven't done it professionally for over 15 years.
She grabbed the phone and said, "Ah! Mara-leen! You play gui-tar???"
I said, "Oh my god, certainly not as good as you do!!"
And it led to our conversation that resulted in her beautiful advice to not worry about skill and to just let every note sing.
Yesterday really was just a beautiful, interesting, and unexpected day all the way around. But, as you can guess, I am really behind schedule here. Gotta run, but thanks for visiting, gang!! See you!
Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that a couple of birthdays ago, I got a great voice mail from Charo, wishing me a happy birthday & advising me to "not get pregnant." My dear friend Peitor Angell in Los Angeles is one of her record producers, so he put her up to it.
He also put her on the phone with me yesterday b/c I had called to chat when they were both in the recording studio working.
She gave me some beautiful advice about playing the guitar -- not to worry so much about my skills but to instead "make every note sing."
Re-opening myself up to my musical side has been a little journey I've been on for a few months now. Getting the new piano, keeping the guitar out, keeping it reasonably in tune. Part of all the stuff that's rearranging itself inside me as I try to work on the memoir.
After my first suicide attempt, when I was 14, I was unable to play the piano anymore. Well, I mean, technically I could play it, but emotionally & mentally, I shut down. It was too stressful. I didn't react that way to the guitar, though. I kept playing that for years and, of course, played professionally in New York City from 1980-1994 when I was a songwriter. And while I was in my 20s, I was getting really good at the guitar. Even though on stage I only played rhythm, at home with my little 6-track recording studio, I worked with different strumming and hammering techniques -- just like Edide Van Halen!! (You would not have been able to tell us apart -- except for the multitude of glaring differences, that is.)
Anyway, all that music stuff that was crammed down tight in some little cubby hole inside me is bubbling back up these days. I'm nowhere near as skilled as I used to be, but I don't really care. I'm just enjoying it.
And yesterday, when Peitor handed the phone to Charo and said to her, "Talk to Marilyn; she's a singer and a guitar player, too." It was, well, rather interesting to be referred to in that way when I haven't done it professionally for over 15 years.
She grabbed the phone and said, "Ah! Mara-leen! You play gui-tar???"
I said, "Oh my god, certainly not as good as you do!!"
And it led to our conversation that resulted in her beautiful advice to not worry about skill and to just let every note sing.
Yesterday really was just a beautiful, interesting, and unexpected day all the way around. But, as you can guess, I am really behind schedule here. Gotta run, but thanks for visiting, gang!! See you!
Comments