Life of a "tumbleweed"...
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Christene LeDoux's Road Diary:
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| Wednesday, November 22nd, 2006 | | 7:30 pm |
Written in Oct 2006 in Italy...
Walking in front, alongside or anywhere near a European mommy pushing her baby in her buggy, is like riding a bike on the autobahn in front of her middle-aged husband in his newly purchased ferrari. Rules? There are none! The bigger...the more stylish and the one with more contraptions then that ferrari...holding anything you can imagine, including but not limited to; coffee, cell phones, shopping bags, toys, books and oh, the baby... have full road priority. If you can't move, walk, run or just plain get the hell out of the way, plan to be mowed down. Oh, p.s... The same goes for long legged girls in dresses on vintage bikes with enormous baskets... Don't be fooled by their flowing skirts, draping scarves and pretty faces...they too own the streets. They know it and if you don't, plainly, you get run over. So move out of the fucking way or get over it. | | Saturday, November 11th, 2006 | | 6:19 pm |
stones in my pocket...
Stones in my pocket are making me happy today. As I walked along the beach of Torquay, England on this very cold winter day, I tried as hard as I could to avoid collecting stones. You see... this is a problem I developed on the beaches of Lendas, Greece this past June. When someone picked up my bag appropriately called, "the trunk" by Eagle Creek ... and asked, "Whatta' ya' have stones in there?!" I just couldn't say no with a straight face. I collected literally, almost 6 kilos worth of stones in Lendas alone. So by the time I made it to the beaches of England and Sweden throughout the summer, I was just plain in trouble. I managed to get the stones from Greece to England, the stones from England to Austria and the stones in Sweden back to England...never mind the stones I harvested in Austria. Those thank god, were able to live in the Austrian flat without needing to be lugged around Europe. Even so, I promised myself... n-o m-o-r-e s-t-o-n-e-s... But there I was. Completely mesmerized by the red cliffs of Torquay, the turquoise waters, lush green forest and cold chill in the air. The first moment I looked down to the beautiful array of colors and shapes, I knew ... that was the end of me and my empty pockets. Then as I pulled each one from the ground, looking for just the right stripe or curve, color combination or shape, I realized that I finally understood the phenonmenom of stone collectors. You know the ones. The friends and family with piles about their house, in planters in the garden, leading the way to the front door. And the very worst kind of collector, the one who layers then on the dashboard of their car. But I can't say the worse kind of collector anymore because I am right smack dab proudly standing beside them. In fact, I think I now take the prize for worst kind of collector. Or more like, craziest. For a girl already lugging too many bags around Europe and getting charged for too much luggage way too often, I have literally added on an additional at least 5 kilos each trip...all in the name of rock collecting. But in my sad little defense, I have to say.... Although my life as a tumbleweed drastically changed my thrift store junkie, save every little thing in case I need it some day way of life, the newly acquired stone habit has reminded me... in a small way, that although I don't have the same physical space as I used to...as in, a real home to place them... I can still find a place somewhere in the world that reminds me who I am. Today it is the stones in my pocket that have given this weary hobo a temporary home...and reminded me... I am still the cookie-baking, garden-digging collector I was before the wind and road called to me. | | Wednesday, November 8th, 2006 | | 6:17 pm |
a past journal I have been meaning to post..... written in Innsbruck, Austria this Fall... - 8 Novem
He was old. The kind of old you get when you spend too much time alone with the bottle. Born and raised in Innsbruck but spent most of the last ten living in and out of the bars. When we stopped in the train station, for a quick glass of red while waiting for the bus, he instantly began to chat us up. Without hesitation, he then pulled out a stack of worn, well-traveled photos. Marked, 1960, 65', 67', 70', 71' and on... He explained where he was, what he was doing, who he loved and who he is sure has long forgotten him...in each photo, year by year. ...And as the years and photo's progressed, his enthusiasm about his life fading. Divorces, deaths, moves and wanderings... By the time he reached 2006, he also reached into his pocket and took out a camera. He then stood up, asked for my hand and we began to dance. "My name is Reinhardt..." he said. After the song, after the wine and after the dance, Reinhardt took a photo of my face. He then smiled and said, "Now I tell the story of 2006" | | Friday, August 18th, 2006 | | 2:06 am |
love from Prague...
It's so warm tonight. It turned cold since landing in Prague so tonight is a small rembrance of summer almost gone. Taking the train in from Plzen today, I mostly slept. When we arrived back in Prague, I slept off one of our first days off in a long time. It's nearly 10:00pm and I can say the day passed nicely on a train and in a down comforter as I write to you now. Tomorrow is day off number two and a plan to walk to the river, to the castle and picnic with wine, cheese & fruit. This time next week, I will be back in Austria...with an entire 5 weeks off - less one day for a house concert in Helmut's garden. I'm dreaming of the many hikes in the Alps and day trips out of Innsbruck to Milan, Munich, Switzerland and who knows where else. Touring solo in England the end of Sept., will be both a relief and a strange reality. The summer touring with my trio, The Black Sheep Girls has been both challenging and beautiful. I have learned so much and in the end, we have worked a great show and a lifetime friendship. Winter only feels around the corner. I don't know why... it just does. Maybe because I will return to America just in time to gather fallen leaves and share turkey and cranberries on Thanksgiving Day. Seasons pass so fast now. It was just yesterday I was leaving Austin. It was May and strangely, May feels both like a year away and only yesterday. love from Prague, Chris | | Sunday, July 23rd, 2006 | | 1:51 pm |
ramblings from the roads of Europe....
It's hard to believe it took me since Greece to write. From Cambridge to get the girls and off we went, I have not had a free moment or space - both in my head and literally speaking since. I write to you now from the London Stansted Airport. A hair-raising, "Yes, I'm a bonified California driver" 3+ hour drive from a cottage in the British countryside ensued....and he we are. If you're wondering, I never worried for a moment. With less than 20 minutes to spare for check in, we were met by the rental car agent at the departure curb. After calling on the race over (doing 85-90 on the M25 is indescribable...) he agreed not only to meet us there but to take £40 and fill the tank for us. Black Sheep Girls have all the luck.... usually... Do I want to tell you the story of the London taxi driver that took an hour off the meter and let us tag behind him as we found our way to the flat? .... London by car? I never said I could do that! Okay, I'll save that story for another day. Should I spill the beans about my little sheeps being sent into the street at 3:30am in Cambridge? Or perhaps the next day after when we found a £60 parking ticket on our rental car, appropriately called, "Picasso....?" Maybe I should tell you about the unpacked but 3-encore show in Leceister.... or the packed but £3 making show at The Troubador in London? It seems both want us back and promise to make it big. Being a Black Sheep has some positives. The beginning of the tour was a sold-out show in Ryde at the Isle of Wight and just as you can imagine, is one of - if not, the most beautiful place in all of England. Both the people and the fairy dust floating around the air, make for a place you never want to leave. So here I am back, back to being at Stansted... The girls have gone on to Stockholm without me until we meet in 3 days for our first leg of the Scandinavian tour. I sit here in an Italian Cafe, with my cappuccino and chocolate, about to head to Innbruck, Austria. I live my life by the minute, never mind the day. Things like cappuccino's and chocolate really keep me going. Taking chances and hearts along the way, I am learning how to keep some of the treasures I collect for myself. So until next time.... | | Sunday, July 9th, 2006 | | 11:58 am |
my spirit still roams the beaches...
of Lendas... When people tell you they went on an excursion or to a healing place or even as simple as camping alone...and something happened...they are as serious as, well, I'm not even sure how to describe this feeling... this thing that really happens to you. I thought long and hard about how much I could shed and share...how much I was willing to give away about my time in Greece. I don't keep so much for myself as most of you know. My brain works as a writer and as I see it and sometimes, well most of the time don't see it..but feel it... it is my duty to write and bring you to places you have not been... or maybe take you back to a place or state of mind you lost. I'm with you all the way. And truth be told, I just can't help myself most of the time. But after two days back on British soil, I just can't muster the strength or the... I don't know really... to tell you just what happened to me on the beach of pebbles, cobble-stoned streets and amongst the deep soulful eyes of Lendas. Something almost as deep as the gaze they hold when you try to rush by and they slow you down to partake in Retsina and conversation. They don't see you as a busy girl with so much to do... or a lonely traveler with need for respite. They just see your spirit, clear without any muck at all.. and expect the very best from you. And what you end up discovering... is there is so much good you hide amongst the papers and the calls, the running, the lonely heart. You don't even realize what you are missing until you have slowed like a kite adrift. Honestly, I felt quieter than I ever have in my life... in every way. So I am holding my stones collected and given, running my hands down my newly tanned skin.. but mostly gazing into absolutely nothing... just trying to convince my spirit it is time to come home. If by chance it doesn't return, I suppose I can collect it next year when I return. For now... my spirit still roams the beaches... ...of Lendas... | | Saturday, June 3rd, 2006 | | 8:34 pm |
in the lieu of bus fare...
In lieu of bus fare.... ...I opted for red wine & chocolate. £3 return is what I would have spent. In US dollars, that's $6. Sometimes you gotta take the sulfites and sugar over the quicker transport. At least that is what I convinced myself of .... a week into being back on British ground. I really just needed a quick fix for this otherwise nail-clawing, heart-wrenching-leaving-my-safe-ground, friends & family annual trek back to Europe. Why this year was so hard... why I kicked and screamed all the way to Heathrow... I have no idea. But I did. So that is that. And I suppose it's no different than my entire life. All the life stops that changed everything, every-time. They say every seven years you change. Every cell in your body changes at seven-year intervals ; emotional, physical and mental. I guess it is time. Come to think of it, I can really feel the bend as I wind round that next seven-year interval. And like those of the past... Kicking and screaming on my way to training in Washington DC to go teach in Ghana, Africa, landing safely on my way at the Grand Canyon instead. I would have clawed at the big blue sky if it was possible to stay in Colorado.... and literally leaving buckets of tears on a long trail while saying goodbye to San Francisco for Nashville. Was it ever really different than now? Another place, another time... another last ditch effort to keep things the same. Avoid as much change as possible ... all the while aching and bleeding for any sign of it. And when it does inevitably come and it's filled every possible space I thought safe from it, it seems eventually... I do give in. So in lieu of bus fare.. I have chosen to celebrate yet another safe passage to the next thing... ...with chocolate and wine. | | Monday, May 29th, 2006 | | 9:44 pm |
Help Christene stay on the road...
Hi everyone, I hope you are doing great wherever you are. So I am in London...embarking on my latest European Tour til the Fall... and well, as I sit here in a flat in London, I am looking over my finances cringing. I used to have a link up on my old site to make donations and since I put up the new one, I forgot to add it back. It seems so in your face and I'm kind of embarassed too... but the truth is, your donations really do keep me out here. So alas.. I decided to add it back as well as post it here. You are completely what keeps me going. Thanks for your support in every way... whether you can donate or not... it means everything. love from a cold, blue flat in London, Christene | | Saturday, April 29th, 2006 | | 11:30 pm |
he built a box...
My father has a bad heart. But he had a bad heart before his body decided it was bad. Not the genetic kind. But the kind someone gave him when they said he was no good. ......... The guitar case was tough but is a guitar case ever tough enough to keep the guitar safe? We put my Ted Thompson hand-crafted beauty in it's coffin. Wrapped the soft case around it, bubble wrap after that. And that's when it happened. He pulled out Fed Ex boxes of all shapes, all sizes... a box cutter, fragile tape, fragile stickers... the works. Pulled up his sleeves.... And then he did it. He cut, sliced, diced, pulled, pushed, held and molded those pieces into the most beautiful box a guitar, guitar case, soft case and bubble wrap ever saw... could ever wish for. Each piece of fed ex box, smoothed and rounded to perfection.... circling the guitar like it was meant to be... built for life. Hours and a glistening sweat rippled face later, he emerged from the frantic making of the box. Then he just stared it at. Nothing. Not a, "Do you think it'll hold? I wonder how much it weighs?" but instead... one of those moments when you know it's something you are supposed to be memorizing. The kind of moment that leads me to believe.... a year later, here in my studio, in the back of my house in Austin, Texas... as I come across the photo's of that very box... both proudly built, and anxiously ripped apart... That he was trying to tell me something. And I want to tell him I memorized it. | | Sunday, April 16th, 2006 | | 9:00 pm |
too many to remember...
The time has come to fill my walls with photo's and words from my past. I don't exactly when or how it happened... that I felt this nagging urge...this complete obsessive need to pull every photo from every year of my life to surface.... to travel down memory lane on a daily, daily, daily basis... but whenever it came is besides the point. It's here. I study each photo carefully to remember each day and each person and if I am lucky, the feeling that was so powerful, it took up the entire picture. Was I happy? Did I smile for the camera and say cheese without regard to what was really on my mind? Isn't that what we do? So how do I know what was really inside that day? As time goes... is it even traceable? Does it get to the point of too many to remember? Is that when we begin retail therapy, progressive groups and life changes like massive weight loss, getting our teeth fixed and changing our hair altogether? Does my new photo collage tell me all that? Can I wake up each day with my smiling past staring me down... and feel like today is even better? This is what getting older feels like. It's not tangible but palpable. I swear I can really feel it. | | Wednesday, April 5th, 2006 | | 10:35 pm |
neatly folded maps in the door of the car...
I'll never be the kind of person with neatly folded streets maps in the door of the car. The kind of person who overpays the bills so next month will be lighter. The rise-early and finish the to-do list before noon kind of person. Up til today, I still thought I could be.. just maybe, getting closer... I drove a friend's car today. A never-did-I-spill-a-thing-on- this-carpet kind of car. With yes, neatly folded maps. I zipped through town with my shiney wheels. Half expecting to hear the clunks and clacks and scary sounds of driving that I am used to. I hear only the soft, serene buzz of the tires glidding along the highways. I feel safe. Each time I climbed out, I felt a sort of satisfaction in looking around the seats and floors and seeing nothing... Closing the door to a clean car. Organization. Could it be? Nice... This sort of thing doesn't dawn on me when I am back in Europe. I don't drive but maybe once in a blue tour through England or Ireland... I tried to drive through Austria, Germany and Switzerland but the boys in the British band I toured with took a vote. Oh well, maybe next time. Nevermind that... When I do drive in Europe, I have maps all right... but the maps I "carry" if you could call it that, generally fly out each window at least once a day. The weather is mild, especially in England (to me anyway) so windows are usually down and I cruise in and out of the "real" round-a-bouts at speeds I should probably not mention. Hey, have you driven in England? They go fast. Maybe not Italian or German Autobaun fast but compared to the policed roads of the US.. especially Texas... I'm usually doing everything I'm not supposed to like talking on the phone and drinking coffee. Do you know in Ireland it is illegal to drink um, coffee and drive? So the last thing I am keeping track of are those darn maps. Tricky little suckers, no wonder they take flight, who can fold those things... never mind stuff em' in the door? They fly from one end of the backseat to the next... from the front to the back and then, wala, right out the window... Sorry! I usually give up about the first week and keep extra on hand... always being sure to get a new one from whatever hotel I may be at. I should be keeping a sign on my car, "Back off wanker, I've got maps and they like to fly.." but I don't. Instead I pull over, try to collect my trash and move on. It never once dawned on me that maybe folding them neatly in the door would make this whole business of collecting while driving and reading maps a bit easier, not to mention safer. But no.. instead I imagine the closer they are the easier they'll be to get to.... and no matter how many map planes I have set out to fly the M4, I don't learn my lesson. So as I look at the perfect little pile in the safely running, perfectly cleaned door of my friends car, I promise myself that maybe...just maybe... I will work on being the kind of person who keeps neatly folded maps in the door. | | Monday, March 27th, 2006 | | 5:00 am |
still awake?
Midnight in the Breckenridge Hospital Emergency room. It's more crowded than ever and filled with more wounded then I have seen in my life. Blankly staring until someone passes by... then all eyes on the slow late night shuffle of the lucky sucker about to go in to be seen. My fever is so high I'm surprised my brain hasn't cooked. I can't believe I can think straight... let alone find a space on the floor to wait out my turn. It's cold and hard and is just what I need to cool my body down. After watching "Cops" from afar and people up close, I lock eyes with him. Short and scrawny and wears a baseball hat you know only leaves his head at bedtime... he looks tired, sad and defeated. I attract the wounded. It's a lot in life I have parked securely in... so long as I know when to drive away. I don't... and like every other time, I can't seem to get near the get-away car. In the end, I don't want to I suppose. After all, who am I to judge the wounded when I myself am the walking broke? "I have a screw here ... see... it's stickin' out my neck... been there long time now and my girlfriend say I reckon you go fix that... so here I am... god damn...that surgery never did feel right... but I guess I been drunk so long I aint' feel nothin..." His face red from his love of alcohol getting brighter, more alive and more animated. Now he is talking to talk and every now and then looks up to say, "you alright darlin?" I nod my head and smile and answer with words like, "yeah.. uh huh... that's great..." And I know I'm an ass because what I am really doing is thinking how much I want to know... why he has a screw coming out of his neck... where is his girlfriend? But he is talking to fast and so much and to the air, that I don't feel there's enough time or space to jump in.... So..,I just listen and nod and say my insignificant words. Another hour passes... then another. The crowd isn't letting up and every time I think it's slowing down, a new batch of the bleeding and bruised wander in. With red eyes, holding arms and faces... limping and whining, scanning the room for sympathy...surely empathy? But no one gives in. He's been quiet for awhile when I start to doze off. I awake to him sitting on the floor beside me... He tells me everything... Born in Virginia, in the Blue Ridge Mountains. "Got me five brothers... count them five brothers. Lived in every major city and hopped every train from the west coast all the way across to New York City... Got me a bottle one night and decided to hop on that train... me and my girlfriend.. we both fell at the same time... I broke my neck...four places, four count them. Got this here screw...see? She wasn't so lucky. Lost her toes first. Then it turned into gang green... got her no feet, no legs no more. Just gone... what's yer' name darlin?" "Chris" "Well.. nice to meet ya' Chris... you wan' a soda from that there machine?" "No thanks" I told him. "I don't drink soda.... And he stood up to get a soda for himself. "Dalton... calling Dalton.. please come to the triage desk..." No last name? As it turned out, no more Dalton either... That was the last time I saw him. He never came back. "Christene LeDoux...calling Christene LeDoux to the triage desk..." Almost 3:00 am in the Breckenridge Hospital Emergency room and I'm still awake... I think. | | Sunday, March 12th, 2006 | | 7:36 pm |
little pumpkin newsletter/march 2006
WELCOME to the..... Christene LeDoux * Little Pumpkin Music Newsletter March 2006 (!) NEWS for songwriter Christene LeDoux Issue No. 79 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ -- I'm still here! -- Playing in your home... -- CD is on it's way... -- Trio? -- LittlePumpkinMusic.com is live! -- Quote for the month... Hi! Sorry for the lack of a newsletter for so long. I know it's not like me. When I returned from Europe, I went straight to California to be with my papa, Colorado for the Rocky Mt. Folks Fest, Nashville for the Americana Conference and Baltimore to sing in a wedding then back & forth to California for my dad & the holidays... So I am finally catching my breath and just barely tossed the pumpkin out... yes, it's been on the porch since Nov! Speaking of Austin... I was lucky to meet a great group of NOLA musicians, including the Neville brothers. I was asked to hand clap on the new Katrina CD/DVD they were recording & filming. It was a total blast to to hang out with such amazingly talented but still very sweet musicians. I just got word the CD was picked up by a major label and is heading for the grammies! Does that make me a grammy-nominated hand clapper? :-) The new site (thanks Audra!) and CD are both underway and will both be debuting and releasing before I head back to Europe this Spring. Thanks for your patience while I worked all this out. As you know the CD, is now underway with another amazing producer by the name of Mark Hammond. He has worked with everyone here in Austin from Shawn Colvin and Ani DiFranco to all of Eliza Gilkyson's work. I'm super, duper excited to finally have this baby so watch out... it's almost here! The next CD will be with the original producer I had planned to work w/ this time around. So...I haven't been off the road in almost 4 years (I know, scary!) so uh... a big pit stop to take care of a lot of business both personal and musical .. has been in order. If you were looking for me at Rockrgrrl...sorry I missed you. I was looking forward to performing as well as moderating and speaking on a marketing panel. I sure hope you had a great time. Some of you may already know, I had to also cancel the little pumpkin music showcase at Folk Alliance this year. And unbelievably, I am forgoing the SXSW madness this year as well. Yes, it's all part of the slow down-focus plan I have been working... and yes, it seems to be working. It has managed to also bring me back together w/ my wonderful Swedish friends and form a trio we call, "The Black Sheep Girls." The site still has much work, but it's up if you'd like to take a peek so far... http://www.BlackSheepGirlsMusic.comWe'll be recording our CD in Greece this June so it looks like I'll have that to offer you as well. This summer, we'll be touring all over Scandinavia, The Czech Republic, England and possibly Scotland and Ireland. Just a quick note to also let you know my record label web site: http://www.LittlePumpkinMusic.com is finally live! Stop by and see the new roster, tour dates and more. Major distribution is in talks now and should be part of the little pumpkin family before Christmas. That means all the CD's through little pumpkin will be available everywhere! Lastly and most importantly, the "Back Home Compilation" to Benefit Children's International has been released and is available for purchase. Raymond is a Baton Rouge, Louisiana music lover I have had the pleasure to play a house concert for.... and he's got a huge heart to match... so please stop by and take one home: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/backhomecdSpeaking of Europe... Booking is underway for my return to England and all over Europe this Spring! So looking forward to getting back to my second home in the world. If we have been in contact regarding a house concert or you are interested in hosting one or helping me book a show in your town, please send an email to: littlepumpkinmusic@yahoo.com (my usual email has been on the blink, please use this address) I am planning to be all over Europe once again and am happy to come to your country... have I been to it yet? The areas confirmed this round are: As always, England. Scotland, Ireland, Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Germany, Czech Republic and others pending... where are you? Thank you always for your support. It is truly you that keeps me going. That's the plain truth. Lots of hugs, wishes and magic in your new year. lv, Chris ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Quote for the month... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Leave the beaten track behind occasionally and dive into the woods. Every time you do you will be certain to find something you have never seen before. - Alexander Graham Bell | | Thursday, February 9th, 2006 | | 12:39 am |
easy people...
Scandinavian women are a breed like no other. They are both grounded and free, beautiful and unaware. So much so that I can only sit in awe that they exist. In America, we are fast. We talk fast, we move fast and want it all...fast. We listen to talk and when we do, we can't stop. So when I arrived back in the country this Fall, I was in absolute shock every time I opened my mouth or even worse, kept it closed to "listen." Yes because even I, a self-confessed addict to world traveling can't keep my big, fat trap shut practically the minute my little American toes hit my home turf. And when I did arrive and was almost immediately interrupted without even remote acknowledgement of what I said, I just went along with it. I hung out with okay-no-so-great-for-me people and took whatever morsel they were willing to give out. No, I don't mean a long criminal history, you're not so nice to meet kind of friend. I just mean the kind of friend(s) that slipped in while you weren't paying attention... Which was, well.. a lot of the time. And I guess I went into some sort of denial or worse yet, fell right back into what seemed to be cultural role. So tonight as I toss back wine and salad, spinach pizza and conversation, I look across the table at each of my Swedish friends., Lisen and Eva and in beautiful awe, can't believe but thank my lucky Texas stars... that I let myself go. It's only been 5 hours since their arrival and already, I am aware that my guards are down and imagine this... I am safe. There is no waiting to talk, talking so you can't breath nor taking whatever morsel is willingly offered. No, "so, tell me how it's going with so and so and so and so..." But more like a natural progression and one that tells me, you... someone is REALLY listening. The kind of conversation, without pretense and competition, haste or pride. The kind that flows...literally...like the very red wine we are drinking. So before tonight... I had forgotten. Forgotten how much I miss Europe and Sweden. My Scandinavian friends and bottom line, being around souls that just get it. Is it like my sister Annette who has been practically native in Spanish since a little girl? Who listens to mostly Latin music, watches Latin novellas and for lack of a better way to describe it, seems to belong to the culture? Is it like that? Do I just have an infinity to the Scandinavian way of life? Is it like the way my music has brought me into a culture .. one which my sister fluent in Spanish will never understand? Just as I will never understand hers? Is it yet another thing to love? To miss? Because here I am in America and for the life of me, I can't think of one time I have felt this free to flow and hit the ground at the same time... There is love in the house tonight. My girls are fast asleep after more than 48 hours of traveling and being awake. Two bottles of wine, one pizza and a salad later... they are probably so far gone they have no idea they have both turned my world upside down and inside out at the same time. You know, the kind of inside out that reminds you it's okay if you put your shirt on backwards sometimes. | | Sunday, February 5th, 2006 | | 4:55 pm |
what I really craved...
I needed chocolate. It was getting late, it was raining but still... I needed chocolate. I grabbed my keys, slid on some flip flops and headed out. As I held the key to open my car door, it dawned on me that maybe walking to get it would make up for it having it. I could see lightening and hear the train in the distance.... feel rain on my face and the warm humid feeling that comes with it... sneak under my sweater. I passed houses with lights, heard lovers laughing on a porch and gave directions to an elderly couple lost in the neighborhood. I made a decision while walking. That I would walk more. And especially in the rain. An hour later and back in front of my house, I realized it stopped raining... and my craving for chocolate gone. | | Tuesday, January 31st, 2006 | | 9:06 pm |
before ther art collector came to town...
On the corner of S. Congress and Ben White at a red light fiddling with my CD player. Finally found my favorite Leonard Cohen CD and popped it in. ....... “I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch; he said to me, "You must not ask for so much." ....... When I looked up... I saw him reach in the highway medium to gather his belongings. A blue backpack. I read in a recent article somebody local has been buying signs from homeless people for his art collection. On one occasion a homeless man holding his sign refused to give it up. Nothing could convince him. For the past week and a half I have passed the S. Congress and Ben White intersection almost the same time each day. And each day I see him. I never noticed the words written with a black sharpie before… at least not until today... "I aint sellin' it so don't ask!" And I can't help but wonder what it said before the art collector came to town... | | Saturday, January 14th, 2006 | | 6:56 pm |
Little Pumpkin Music Newsletter/January 2006
WELCOME to the..... Christene LeDoux * Little Pumpkin Music Newsletter January 2006 (!) NEWS for songwriter Christene LeDoux Issue No. 77 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In this Issue... -- I'm still here! -- Texas tour in Feb? -- Playing in your home... -- Quote for the month... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hi! Sorry for the lack of a newsletter for so long. I know it's not like me. When I returned from Europe, I went straight to California to be with my papa, Colorado for the Rocky Mt. Folks Fest, Nashville for the Americana Conference and Baltimore to sing in a wedding then back & forth to California for my dad & the holidays... So I am finally catching my breath, tossing the pumpkin out (yes, it's been on the porch since Nov!) and removing the Christmas lights. Speaking of Austin... I was lucky to meet a great group of NOLA musicians, including the Neville brothers. I was asked to hand clap on the new Katrina CD/DVD they were recording & filming. It was a total blast to to hang out with such amazingly talented but sweet musicians. I just got word the CD was picked up by a major label and is heading for the grammies! Does that make me a grammy-nominated hand clapper? :-) The new site (thanks Audra!) and CD are both underway and will both be debuting and releasing before I head back to Europe this Spring. Thanks for your patience while I worked all this out. I haven't been off the road in 4 years (I know, scary!) so uh... a big pit stop to take care of a lot of business both personal and musical .. has been in order. If you were looking for me at Rockrgrrl...sorry I missed you. I was looking forward to performing as well as moderating and speaking on a marketing panel. I sure hope you had a great time. Some of may already know, I have cancelled the little pumpkin music showcase at Folk Alliance this year. If you haven't got word about the cancellation, please send me an email and I will send you more details. This was a hard decision to make but I am positive it was the right one. Although I have cancelled attending, performing and running the pumpkin room at FA... my good friends Eva and Lisen from Sweden are still coming. I invited them to perform in my room before I had cancelled it. Since the cancellation, I am trying desperately to put together a short, last minute tour of Texas with the three of us the week after Folk Alliance. Lisen especially is in *love* with Texas and Texas musicians. They're both very talented by the way (Lisen sounds like Emmy Lou Harris!) so you won't be disappointed. If you can help us put together a few last minute Texas house concerts or shows, I sure would be grateful. <3 Lastly, booking is underway for my return to England and all over Europe this Spring. If we have been in contact regarding a house concert or you are interested in helping me book a show in your town, please send an email to: littlepumpkinmusic@yahoo.com I am planning to be all over Europe once again and am happy to come to your country! Thank you always for your support. It is truly you that keeps me going. That's the plain truth. Lots of hugs, wishes and magic in your new year. lv, Chris ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Quote for the month... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Leave the beaten track behind occasionally and dive into the woods. Every time you do you will be certain to find something you have never seen before. - Alexander Graham Bell | | Monday, December 5th, 2005 | | 9:23 pm |
then he fell down...
"Until they run out of money or fall down..." That is what a British correspondent said in a report regarding Britain's new drinking law passed... that bars can stay open for as long as they'd like. A long tradition of closing at 11pm, the bell ringing and two to three pints quickly in hand, is long over. The hope in the law change is it will make be people less rushed to down their booze before 11pm, less drinking problems etc... But as a very drunk Irish citizen with drink in hand, in London replied to the new law, "here's to twenty fours hours..." Then he fell down. | | Friday, November 11th, 2005 | | 12:07 am |
metal and wood ...
When my good friend Charlie died two years ago, I was in the middle of a hectic tour in England. I needed to go home. Go to his funeral. Laugh it up with our musical friends about what a crazy, loving nut Charlie was. But there was no way I was going to make it so I let it go. At the time of Charlie's death, I was in a weird place in my life which in turn, effected my career. I needed something great to happen, a sign...something reminding me all this solitude, driving, flying, luggage-lugging, stale coffee-drinking was worth more than missing one of my greatest friends funeral. The next morning, I awoke to an email from a luthier in Michigan. He was a fan of my music and wanted to build and sponsor me a guitar. He said choose everything; the wood, the style, design... you name it. Let's name it after your song, "tumbleweed." And later that day, I got a call to join a two month tour of England and Ireland with one of Ireland's greatest songwriters. I knew immediately it was something Charlie would have a hand in. I remember feeling his energy before I found out he passed away. He had been gone for a few days before I got the email. Last week, my best friend lost her mom. In High School, Rhonda was like a second mom to me. While attending College in town, I used to stop by to read her my stories, before I had to go to class and turn them in. Trish wasn't even there half the time. "Oh Tina" she would say, "you're such a great writer. I know you'll do great things." I didn't see it then and really, had no idea why I kept writing, let alone why anyone would read it. Rhonda would drive us to the mall and all the way, would keep the windows shut since I had 'just done my hair.' She'd pick us up when we wanted, even giving Trish enough money to pay for my lunch at times. And even when Trish and I fought, Rhonda stayed neutral and usually brought us back together. Then years passed. Trish and I lost contact. I moved around a lot, from state to state, a good part of my 20's. When Trish and I rediscovered our friendship, I was becoming a songwriter. I lived in San Francisco and Trish, married in a town just outside of Modesto, where I grew up. One Christmas, I went to visit Rhonda, Trish and the rest of the family. She was so happy to see me. Just as sweet as I remembered and quick to bring out drinks, snacks and old photo's. Time has again passed and that was the last time I saw Rhonda. Last week, she passed away. I wanted to make it to the funeral and although I wasn't out of the country, I just couldn't make it happen. Rhonda has been gone for a little over a week. Last week, a personal trainer, came from nowhere to offer me free training. And the other day... a mechanic to fix my truck. In fact, when I came home from working, my truck was ready for the road. He insisted I don't pay him and instead, have him over for a home-cooked meal. Something he hasn't had in years. How a mechanic and trainer came to me is beyond me. I needed both desperately. And since their arrival, I can spend my money on a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving instead. It's not about a guitar, or a tour ... a trainer or a mechanic. Charlie was the kind of person always thinking about everyone else. His spirit roared and before you even spotted him, he was running to you with with arms open. He'd plant a hug and before you even spoke, he always seem to know just what you needed or who he could introduce you to and sometimes, knew just the kind of music you needed to hear. He just knew. So it was no surprise to me that after he died, he was still up to his old tricks. Rhonda was ready to solve your problems if you asked and when you needed a friend to listen, she was a true listener and not just waiting to talk. So it was no surprise to me that after she died, she just had to help me one last time. I could and can, still hear her raised like a song voice telling me I can do it, I will make it all work and I will be okay. "Things happen for a reason Tina." It's just an instrument made of wood and a car made of metal. No comparisons to the lives of Charlie and Rhonda. But now that they are gone, in some small way... every time I play my tumbleweed in some country far away from home ... I will be thinking of Charlie. And while driving my truck, on a tour all alone, ready to call it quits ... I will thank Rhonda for keeping me going ... for listening to my words when even I couldn't hear them. It's crazy that you feel their love from the very things that mean the least in this world, just a little metal and wood. | | Wednesday, November 2nd, 2005 | | 2:39 pm |
running for cover or shelter?
On a layover in Houston, realizing I am definitely in Texas as I order Barbq and beer. I hear "Blue eyes crying in the rain" and scramble to pickup my cell phone when I realize it's playing at the Starbuck's next door. When I travel, sometimes I am full of energy, ready to talk to anyone. Other times - ruuuuunning for cover. Today I am bit under the weather but relatively calm & cheerful. I am mostly in an introverted mood as I choose my Barbq and with my free hand, twist off the top to my Texas Shiner Bock beer. There's a weird phenomenon that happens when I am in that "run cover cover" state of mind in an airport. It seems every one and their mother, brother and whomever else happens to be passing by, wants to chat. I am now gripping my warm beer (it never was cold) ... staring into the bottom as I tip to my mouth. I close my eyes and savor my fizzy moment in perfect solitude. When I come up for air, the seats around me seem emptier now. Relieved, I dive into my laptop and begin the tedious task of answering the usual backed-up email. One beer ... turns into two and at now happy prices, I am tempted to go for a third. I reluctantly stop. I pack my computer, sling my guitar over my shoulder and head for Gate C37 on the non-stop to Baltimore. Still running for cover at this point, I choose a spot on the carpet, in the corner... far, far away from everyone. Within minutes, a man appears and before I can flash that, "Please for the love of god don't talk to me look" he launches into... "So, where ya goin'?" "Baltimore" "Whatcha' do? Do you live in Texas? I'm just goin' to California for business... yeah, good ole' work. Oh, is that a guitar I see there? Would ya' sing me a song??" Yikes! I didn't even have a chance to flash the look, let alone say hello... and lastly, not even close to having enough time to answer all his questions. Too late for running I see. I'm in a corner now - and it was all my doing ... there is no-where-to-go ... he's got me. Damn. "I live in Austin ... well England too but I'm here for the winter ... Texas I mean. Heading to sing in a wedding." "Oh, Europe!" he says "I just returned from Europe. You been to Copenhagen?" "Oh yeah. That's where these cowboy boots came from." "Stockholm?" "Oh sure. I was just there a better part of the Spring and Summer actually. I love Sweden." "So tell me, what's yer' name then?" "Christene, er... Chris, yeah Chris." "Weeeeell ... nice to meet you Chrissy ... So, tell me - how does a young lady such as yourself keep loneliness at bay? It must be difficult to sustain a relationship?" "Uuuh ... yeah .. I uuuh .. (So I'm thinking, not only can I not run but now I am answering the question that seems to be on repeat in my life. Since when did flying get so damn philosophical??) I guess like anyone really. I do things that make me happy. Like hunting for the best coffee in the morning, buying a snack on a moving train - and savoring it as I watch the scenery fly by. I try to see friends and family along the road, stay with them if I can. Sleep a lot ... at least nowadays. Eat a lot of chocolate ... and ... just keep going I guess. "Hmmm..." he says as he kneels his suit covered arms onto the top of his legs. "Sooo ... one can surround themselves with friends and family, children and grandchildren and ultimately, we are still entirely on our own aren't we?" "Well .. yeah, it looks that way uh ... " "Jack, just call me Jack." He stands up, straightens his slacks and boards the 5:55 flight to Sacramento. "Thanks for the talk Chris, it's been great! I feel a lot better" (Eh?) LAST CALL ON FLIGHT 1531 TO SACRAMENTO And he's gone. Five minutes of being cornered and I am feeling less alone. I suppose running for cover could also mean running for shelter ... and sometimes that can be a good thing. |
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