Category: Music

Posts related to the Music Page

“Veteran Cosmic Rocker”

The final cut from Long Distance Voyager by The Moody Blues, along with its two preceding songs, are among my all-time favorites. They reflect the internal turmoil of a performer. However, they are also reflective of struggles I am confident we all wrestle with, at least from time to time. No doubt this series of recordings influenced my creation of Chameleon, which describes a person who changes colors to fit into various social situations.

For many years I described my musical affinity as the “Veteran Cosmic Rocker.” Even today, I can relate to keeping a smiling face and demeanor as I struggle with so many new challenges in my life. I invite you to read the lyrics and listen to the combined YouTube video.

Painted Smile

I can sing, I can dance
Just give me a chance
To do my turn for you
There's a chance I'll slip
But with stiff upper lip
I'll sing my song for you
Laughter is free
But it's so hard to be a jester all the time
And no one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside
I've shed a tear for the lying
While everyday trying
To paint this smile for you
Backflips, cartwheeling, somersault feelings
What is there left to do?
Laughter is free
But it's so hard for me, a jester all the time
No one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside
Roll up, roll up, enjoy the show
Pick me up, wind me up, put me down
You'll see me go
And this painted smile
May miss for a while
Then come back and steal your show
I sing, I dance
Give me a chance to do my turn for you
With backflips, cartwheeling, somersault feelings
What's there left to do?
Laughter is free
But it's so hard to be a jester all the time
No one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside
Laughter is free
But it's so hard to be a jester all the time
No one's believing I'm the same when I'm bleeding
And I hurt all the time deep inside

Reflective Smile

Your painted smile hides you still
While you search yourself within
Yesterday and tomorrow's found
Fused as one upon solid ground
As all around the milling crowd
Confuse themselves with raging sounds
And their loves forgetfulness abounds
So be thankful for your greasepaint-clown
If loneliness wears the crown of the Veteran Cosmic Rocker

Veteran Cosmic Rocker

The lights go down, the stage is set
The man in the wings breaks out in sweat
A backstage joker spiked his coke
While the dressing room was full of smoke
A crowd of fools got him high
He's afraid he's gonna die
He's the apple of their eye
He steps into the remaining light
Crowd go wild, he's out of sight
Arms held high in the sign of peace
His manager signed the one night lease
The house is full getting high
He's afraid he's gonna die
He's the apple of their eye
He's the Veteran Cosmic Rocker
He steps into the remaining light
The crowd go wild, he's out of sight
Arms held high in the sign of peace
His manager signed the one night lease
The house is full getting high
He's afraid he's gonna die
He's the apple of their eye
He's the Veteran Cosmic Rocker
He's afraid that he will die

Moody Blues: Painted Smile~Reflective Smile~Veteran Cosmic Rocker video

Can you relate to these words? Do you like the music?

I played an open mic at West Music Thursday night. The most difficult aspect of performing is to calm my nerves. Past that, I must channel the situations and feelings that prompted me to write the songs at all. Focus. Keep within the words and music. Forget about the audience, though not completely. Eye contact. An occasional nod. A smile. Get my fingers to hold and pluck the strings. How do I get through a cramping hand? But I have to focus on the words.

These are only some of the challenges as I work on this major effort of my new life. Fear. Doubt. Sadness. Guilt. Expectation. You get the idea. It’s no wonder that performers are torn between their personal lives and their public personas. Supposedly, we have gifts. But they come at a cost. Just like everything else in all of our lives. Sometimes we are gifted. Sometimes we make choices. Regardless, we deal with them. Sometimes in the open, sometimes behind the veil of a smile, like the “grease-paint clown.”

Thanksgiving in July

(Welcome to Kelly)

If retailers can create sales called “Christmas in July”, I can call for “Thanksgiving in July?” Though it should probably be in June. I’ll chalk that up to artistic license.

Nearly two weeks past my gig in Clear Lake, I am still reeling from emptiness, sadness, and guilt. It is common for me to have a letdown after completing a challenging goal; that, combined with the spiral grieving process (though at times it feels more like a roller coaster!). Nor surprise that I am off.

I miss Pam intensely. I am sad that she is unable to watch her grandchildren grow into adulthood, she cannot watch Adalynn, our next door neighbor child, frolic on her new swing set, or to share times with family and friends, or go on the road with me. I feel guilty for moving forward with my life without her, even though I know in my mind that she would want me to.

Adalynn with Blue
Adalynn the Princess

In the midst of this despair I found myself giving thanks for many of the same things I rue during loss. You may thank God, the universe, even your lucky stars. Regardless of attribute, it is enlightening and healthy to be thankful.

First and foremost, I am thankful for my family. Just being able to have relationships with siblings, daughters, sons, grandchildren, in-laws is worth many thanks. And thanks to them for – being. Each person is a gift full of gifts! I am thankful for their support, for believing in me, for their compassionate ears and encouraging words.

Pam and I were happily married for over 25 years, for which I am truly thankful. Being with Pam taught me about unconditional love, deep love, letting go love. I cannot imagine a better mate. I am forever changed for the better because of her.

I am thankful for my health. Sure. I have a few “getting older” issues, but how can I complain when I know so many with far worse ailments. So far, I am still able to do the things I love, like play guitar and sing, and walk and hike. I can drive my car (which I also enjoy), and eat and drink “normally.” Health is at the heart of maintaining good quality of life, for which we all strive.

A modest home in a friendly Iowa town. Living across the street from a park and a pond – with trout! Good neighbors. So much more to be thankful for.

Which leads to how I live. Always striving to live within my means. Thankful that I can afford the things I have and am able to share my gifts with others.

My music continues to be a sustaining force in my life. I am thankful for the gift of music, my ability to play, and create music and lyrics that are cathartic for me and convey messages that others can relate to. I am thankful for the people I’m meeting as I play. From those who pass on the streets and walks as I practice in my garage, to those who patiently listen at more formal venues. I am grateful to be able to share myself, as representing thoughts and emotions of others.

So much to be thankful for! Whether it’s June, July, or any other time of the year. When I’m feeling down and out, It’s good to recognize and articulate what I am thankful for. How about you?

P. S.

OMG Look what came in the mail this morning. Guess I’m not the only one. 😉 They say they can provide six meals for every dollar donated. North Liberty Community Pantry is a cause I contribute to often.

Check ✅

Bucket list item? Goal? Dream? Commitment? Yep. All of those. My gig at Galilean Lutheran Church in Clear Lake was a success. I played one song during the service and 21 during the performance. Many stayed to listen. And while a few left after the first set, several friends, and family who all drove in for the event, thank you very much, stayed for the entire time.

A surreal perspective engulfed me as I played. It was hard to believe I was actually there performing. Fortunately, I enjoy playing my music and sharing my life with others through song. I got into it easily and made relatively few, minor mistakes, probably even fewer that were noticeable. Feedback was positive, with several people expressing their like for the songwriting. Overall, the consensus was that I should go forth and do more.

There were several stress indicators in the weeks leading up to the event. A gout flareup, trouble sleeping, and sadness for missing Pam. I know she would have been happy, and would have enjoyed the experience. I know I would not be who I am, doing what I am, without her love and encouragement. Last Tuesday was Pam’s birthday. Two days after the show. That, too, was looming in my heart and mind as the day approached.

Reflecting on my experience and feelings in the days after the show, extreme sorrow, and some guilt, overtook me. I realized that, though Pam shared it, this was my dream. My fulfillment. I felt that I hadn’t listened well enough to Pam expressing her dreams, that I didn’t do enough to make them come true.

Of course we had common dreams that we hoped would become real during our years of retirement. I like to think we would have made those, and Pam’s come true. Unfortunately, we have little control over the universe, the world, our lives. I would trade, in a heartbeat, all of who and what I am now to be with Pam again.

As I pondered these shortcomings, I found myself saying:

“I could have loved her better, but I could not have loved her more.”

I’m not sure that makes sense, but it sounds good and might even make good song lyrics. I love Pam deeply. I know that. But I certainly could have done it better, listened better, given more of myself to her.

Other lyrics I’ve written express Pam’s beautiful being that I aspire to, but will probably never achieve:

“You treat others better than yourself. Thinking more of them than you.”

The “others” and “them” include me. Now I can only try to do better. I cannot change the past. But I can impact my future. And in doing so, positively impact other’s lives as well. I hope!

“What’s next?” You might ask. After a few days of relative rest (that means playing only occasionally instead of for hours each day), I will start working on new material that I’ve already been writing and plucking, along with polishing several songs that have been sitting for months and years. I hope to record the remainder of my current play list so that I can share the newer songs that are not yet posted. I’ll be looking for open mics around the area to gain confidence and exposure. No, Linda, I’m not headed to Nashville yet. 😉

Debut

Tomorrow, I will fulfill a commitment I made a year ago to prepare my music and play in public, when I perform up to 24 original songs at the church where Pam and I met and married. I didn’t realize at the time, about a month after she died, that following through on a dream of performing publicly while traveling around Iowa and beyond, would become such an important part of my grief journey.

Pam and I loved to drive the back roads to towns and eating establishments. We hoped it would be a significant aspect of our retirement. Fun travels. And I would ask hosts and barkeeps if I might sit in a corner and play. With Pam’s passing, I decided to keep the dream alive.

I’ve been working/playing nearly every day for a year leading up to this point. Tomorrow is my debut. I’m not sure where I go from here, but I’m working on new goals like recording the rest of my current play list, as well as polishing another group of songs that have been on a back burner for years. Playing at open mics will help keep sharp what I have been working so hard to develop.

Attempting to share more of me through my music, I have updated my Songs page to include all of the songs from Catching Up on Life, recorded in 2013. Hopefully, that page will grow significantly over the next few weeks/months as I record more of my current repertoire.

This is a bittersweet occasion. So many memories, hopes, emotions, challenges, and now, fulfilment. My love, Pam, made this all possible. She listened (probably more than she wanted). She encouraged. She dreamed along with me. She allowed me to be me. Even in death Pam’s love for me, and mine for her, helped me get through the roughest times and begin to create a future for me, without her. A future that still includes her through memories and songs. Songs of love and affection about and to her.

I will play on. For Pam. For me. To share with all of you who might listen. I am humbled and hopeful.

A Play and a Poem

You know, I really do want and hope that you, the readers of this blog, gain something positive from the reading. I write about what’s happening with me, but my hope is that you can somehow internalize the words as reflecting your sorrows, griefs, loves, successes, hopes, and dreams. This week’s post is no different, unless you can relate to its being more positive, well, than at least the last one. Two experiences highlight my week, and both are positive.

The spoiler (the poem) is at the end. The second experience took place on Thursday. I was at a local music store picking up some equipment when Thaddeus mentioned that they were holding an open mic session in the recital room that evening. Thaddeus, who hosts, said he’s been struggling with turnout. “Please come play.” It would just be, hopefully, two or three musicians. I quickly realized it was time to put up or shut up. I agreed to come back that evening.

And so it appeared to be – at first. Then people kept arriving. A total of seven musicians performed, of which I was the third; five singer song writers and two pianists. There were also nearly a dozen others in the audience.

My heart began pounding as Thaddeus started things off. Probably the most polished of all of us, he played four original songs. In fact, all five guitarists played original music. By the time Joe finished his five originals, I knew I was next up. Though I felt that I at least belonged there, my stress level was high.

I played five songs beginning with Anything to Please (not yet recorded), Chameleon, Heart of Logic, Tell Elizabeth I Love Her, and The Song I Never Wrote For You. All were received well and applauded. And though I made several mistakes, some obvious, I was clearly in an empathetic crowd. After all was done, several people came up to me with appreciation for my playing and my songwriting skills.

I did it! I played in public in front of people I don’t know. It has begun. I am fulfilling a commitment I made to Pam (posthumously) and to myself, to step out into a new life that includes sharing myself, and in a way Pam, with – the world?

As you might imagine, I was pretty stoked when I got home. A nice Spring evening. I opened a can of beer and walked around the pond. It was then that my emotions caught up with me and, of course, I began to cry (as I am while writing this). Pam was not with me to share the dream. That coupled with the realization that I was actually going on with a new, still unfamiliar and uncomfortable life. And Pam would approve. Such a melancholy gift. Yet I have to move forward with my heart still in the past, hoping for a future that honors her life – and mine.

The Promised Poem – Promising Spring

Last Tuesday I began my day in contemplation, as usual, staring out the window at the birds flitting around the feeders, and suddenly this popped into my head. I had to write it down immediately in the journal I keep by my chair. I rather like it. I like its positivity. So here it is:

Flitting Birds
Branches Rustling
Sweetly Singing

Towering Trees
Skyward Reaching
Gently Swaying

Flowers Panning
Pedals Unfolding
To Heaven Praying

Greens and Blues
A Sunny Day
Gone the Gray

At Least Today

Everything and Nothing

Continuing on a philosophical tangent, this week’s topic examines how I/we derive meaning from the things we say and do when everything has already been said, and nothing is really new.

Everything has been said before. Nothing I say is new. I write about what’s happening in my life. I express my grieving process, my hopes, dreams, and shortcomings. All in hopes that you, my faithful followers, will glean something meaningful from the reading. How I say, what I say, is meaningful only to me, unless someone else relates to the words anew.

Word play is fun. I enjoy finding different ways to express myself; alternative words to convey a message which has been stated by others in different ways. Whether with prose or in lyrics, words are treasures to be unearthed and revealed, mixing and matching in colorful ways, hoping to make you feel empathy, hoping you feel yourself. Nevertheless I write this message, knowing that it’s all been said before in many ways.

All music has been played before. I am further hampered by my limited knowledge of music theory. I recently learned that there are few musical theories throughout the world. The notes of our “Western” scale, along with other less familiar musical methods, all limit the number of combinations that sound good to our ears/minds. Timing and rhythms add complexity to a tune, helping us express our feelings and enhance our words.

What I play and how I play it is sensational only if it sparks familiar feelings in new ways. Can you think of a subject that hasn’t been covered by a musical artist? So many genres. Music has been part of the human experience since, well, since humans have experienced.

The first shirt I chose
Definitely describes me
Wishful thinking

Additional ways to express myself with words written by others. I’m thinking of wearing these to play gigs – whenever I work up enough courage to do so.

Just this week I finally heard the song I’ve been searching for since I used some of its chords to form one of my songs, Need to Love You, Instrumental, 12-String. That song is I Love You by The Steve Miller Band. I’m not a huge fan of Steve Miller, but this song, released in 1970 obviously stuck with me, though until now I didn’t remember the source. Another example of Everything’s been played, nothing new. And yet we continue to write words and music to convey our experiences, making them our own. Some, if not all, of us have the need to express ourselves, our inner conflicts, hopes, and dreams with others. Some kind of validation that we are not alone in our existence.

And now I want to write something more. But I’m not sure what. After all, it’s all been said before. How about that I feel humbled by that fact, but also comforted in knowing that I am a part of the human race, knowing I am not alone when I express myself. Maybe you will have similar feelings after reading this.

Speaking of it all being said and sung before: Listen. Read. Something like that.

Chameleon (True Colors)

I recorded the song Chameleon for my first (and so far only) CD several years ago. It is posted on my Songs page and is directly referenced above. I’ve been practicing it, along with many other original works, in preparation for live performances this year, and also to record the new ones to post on this site.

An American Anole and an African Chameleon were among the several exotic animals I had when I was younger. Others included a Ferret, two Cockateels, and a 3-foot long Iguana, who’s abbreviated name was Zeke. I used to take him for walks/runs on a leash. Too much fun!

The American Anole flourishes in the SE part of the states. I once found a dead Anole behind a broken window blind in my parents house. They are typically easy to spot. They move fast, and have limited ability to change colors to match their environment. Anoles are fun to see in the wild, but are not much fun as pets.

American Anole

It should not surprise you that African Chameleons are native to – Africa. There are several species. The pictures below resemble the one I had. Unlike the Anole, Chameleons are slow-moving and methodical in their presence. They have amazing turret eyes that move independently and, when food is spotted, they train both eyes forward before unleashing their 6″ to 8″, sticky tongue to capture their prey. Chameleons display a variety of colors and patterns and, consequently, are much more entertaining as pets.

It is this animal that was my muse for Chameleon, a song written about me. I’ve always felt that changing colors to suit the environment I am in reflects my personality. I suspect, however, that we all have a bit of the chameleon in us, changing colors to fit social situations.

African Chameleon

Seems like I often contemplate deeper meanings while looking in the mirror. This week, while gazing at my image and humming the song, I realized that, spending so much time by myself, I have no reason to adjust my colors. Who am I changing them for? I have to recognize who I am – my true colors. I cannot change my innate personality. But self-reflection is not only valuable, these days it’s unavoidable. The song lyrics are as relevant today as they were when I wrote them. But I cannot fool myself. Recognizing and being okay with who I am is the only way I’ll survive this journey of grief, and of life.

A wonderful song came to mind as I was preparing for this post. I’m sure you thought of it too. True Colors, sung by Cyndi Lauper (Songwriters: Billy Steinberg / Tom Kelly), explores different contexts for external and internal human colors. It is an anthem of sorts. Its meaning worth exploring and paying attention to.

True Colors performed by Phil Collins – for Jan

Our inside colors, rather than those we project, are real, and the ones that count! Our feelings about ourselves are a different matter. They also count. I still relate to changing colors – kind of like Chameleons.

A Student of Music

@ Coffee Cat Nov. 22, 2013

For the first time in my life, I am learning about music. While searching for a new Kindle book to read, I stumbled upon Music Theory, From Absolute Beginner to Expert that I have just begun to read, and How to Read Music: For Beginners – Simple and Effective Guide to Understanding and Reading Music With Ease, that I have yet to open. Both books by Nicolas Carter. This may surprise those of you who know and listen to my music. But as I’ve admitted to anyone who asks, I play everything by ear and, though I had to have learned to read music during Junior High when I played the cornet and French horn, very little stuck with me.

After reading only two chapters from Music Theory, I am already learning; tone and notes, amplitude and volume, frequency and pitch, rhythm and time. The author does a good job of relating subjects to piano, and more importantly for me, the guitar. So not only does he discuss white and black keys, but also strings and frets. Works for me!

As with other subjects, learning seems easier now with life’s experiences. I was not a good student in school. Between mild ADD and my constant battle with OCD (neither officially diagnosed), I just couldn’t stay engaged with reading and applied learning. I now know that I am a visual learner, and I learn by doing (kinesthetic). Thus, music by ear (not to be confused with auditory learning). Recently, though, I am reading both fiction and non-fiction, and find that I understand “subjects” better just because I have had some experience with them in life.

Now I am excited to see if and how my music improves with new insights. But I need to keep reading to see how the learning applies. Learning to read music will also be helpful. I plan to get another keyboard (gave mine to the grandchildren) sometime next year to assist my composing and add depth of instruments to my recordings. I enjoyed “messing around” with it, but I assume that understanding the keyboard and being able to read and write music will be helpful in those efforts.

I am happy to be immersing myself deeper in this new venture in my life. I’ve been playing around with new riffs during practice. I’m not sure where they will lead, but it feels good to be creative again, especially while polishing my current repertoire. I will also share that it feels good to be looking forward to new experiences. As I stated earlier, I look forward, while evaluating the past and living in the present. Not only a student of music, but also a student of life.

Peace and Love!

Gone But Not Forgotten – The Mill Restaurant

The first sentence of my “What is Wut Javia” page references The Mill Restaurant in Iowa City. The story goes on to explain how I arrived at the Wut Javia moniker. I found myself viewing this page again today due to a system notification from my web site provider.

I was reminded that, after 58 years in business, this Iowa City landmark closed forever in June. Apparently the COVID-19 impact was enough to move the owners into retirement. I am saddened to know that this venue which so affected my musical development many years ago and again more recently, is no longer available for friends, food and drink, and presentation of local and regional talent. Just had to get this posted.

So many elements of my life have changed, both because of COVID-19 and otherwise, that I have not been able to concentrate on developing travel and other stories so far this Winter. Hopefully, I’ll get going over the next few months.

Meanwhile, hope your holidays are bright and we all have a happier, healthy year in 2021!

Coffee Cat

Long before my Mill debut (see my “What is Wut Javia?” post), I played my first gig at Coffee Cat in Mason City (MC)  IA. It was while living in MC that my musical awakening began.

I knew Cathy from her student days at NIACC. She opened the coffee house after taking the entrepreneurial program there. Cathy sold Coffee Cat a few years ago after getting a master’s degree in psychology (I think).

Part of her marketing strategy was to host live music by local and up-and-coming artists on Friday nights. Somewhere along the line I saw that a guy named Michael Whisler would be playing a session on Friday night. He was billed as playing 12-string guitar just like Leo Kottke! Kottke has a unique 12-string style using various open tunings to assist his mastery of finger picking and range up and down the fret board!

My wife and I went to listen. I was amazed. Not only did he play Kottke songs flawlessly, his original compositions maintained the same level of complexity and melody. Even his vocals were similar in style to Kottke’s. We stayed for the entire evening. I was so excited and started thinking of preparing to play a set sometime in the future.

We were chatting with Cat while Michael was tearing down his equipment. When I asked him where he was going, he said he was headed home (North Dakota); that he would drive for a while, sleep in the car, and finish tomorrow. I looked at Pam, she nodded, and I asked Michael if he would stay the night with us, offering a meal and a bed. I helped him finish packing up and he followed us home.

After he inhaled leftover smoked ribs and fixings, we went to my office, took out the axes (guitars), and started to jam. Pam went to bed and the next thing I knew it was 2:30 a.m. That was the night I decided to learn how to finger pick my guitar – a huge development after 30 years of strumming!

Now I had a goal! I’d built a repertoire of songs and began to earnestly practice. I recorded my first album Catching Up on Life (at home on simple equipment) and booked a date. I invited a few friends (Cat likes that!) to ensure I wasn’t playing to an empty room – ready to play.

To my surprise, Coffee Cat was full. To my greater surprise, people stayed after I started playing. What a rush! I played for two hours with songs from my album, some of my unpublished songs, and a few songs by those who inspired me including Bob Dylan, (Baby Let Me Follow Down) which he learned from Eric Von Schmidt, Cat Stevens (Where do the Children Play), and Simon and Garfunkel (Only Living Boy in New York).

I had a great time. The positive responses and feedback I received from those who were at Coffee Cat that night, inspired me to continue writing and playing my music. I have enough new songs for a new album + and hope to add more. Eventually, I’ll publish Catching Up on Life on this site. I’ve already posted a couple songs on the Songs page.