The Aunt G and the Stone City Nephews kickstarter campaign is launched!!!

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/187535541/aunt-g-and-the-stone-city-nephews-cd-and-band-laun?ref=email

Dear Family, Friends and Fans - 

I am very excited to announce the launch of the kickstarter campaign for the new Aunt G and the Stone City Nephews CD! 

It has been quite an eventful year for me, with some tearful goodbyes, job loss, and several injuries. But the good has far, far outweighed the bad, and one of the best things that has happened has been meeting up with, and becoming part of, the fabulous Kodiak Flats family. John Waite, Jake Niederhauser and Jim Leland have filled my life with music and mischief, and now have consented to be my honorary nephews. This CD will be the culmination of a couple years of hard work and great joy. 

We hope that you will want to join us in this project with a pledge of support. Please visit the Kickstarter site to learn more about what we're doing, and how you can help. 

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/187535541/aunt-g-and-the-stone-city-nephews-cd-and-band-laun?ref=email

Best wishes!

Gayla (aka Aunt G) 

PS to family and friends - Yes, I know my birthday is coming in a few days, as well as Yule, and for those of you who usually include me on your gift lists, ALL I want this year is your support for this project. I do NOT need more stuff! But your support of my creativity and livelihood with a pledge to this campaign would mean the world to me. Love, g

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/187535541/aunt-g-and-the-stone-city-nephews-cd-and-band-laun?ref=email

In praise of practicality

I am a practical person. This is news to me, so I'm kind of excited about it. I am level-headed, I see the big picture, I can look at things dispassionately and see where my best interest is, even if it is far far away from the shiny things. This is one of those awesome but utterly dull qualities that gives me an edge. I know what fucking matters and what does not. I know how to wait. I know how to bargain. I know how to negotiate. I know how to use language to my advantage. Oh, I do. Don't fuck with me. I am a wordsmith. I can hurt you.

But I digress - and I KNOW I digress, because I am practical. Practicality means being painfully honest. Practicality means "you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you might find you get what you need."

Guess what. I'm buying a new violin. Because I'm practical. There is a huge difference between the $1800 violins and the $5000 violins, and I have progressed beyond what the $1800 violin is capable of. Since the violin is responsible for about 85% of my income at this point, I must upgrade to a violin that will deliver the performance that I am capable of. Because I am clever, I asked the Universe to make it possible. The Universe said, "Of course! Yes! It is now possible!" Not free, not painless, but possible. Thank you Universe! I can make possible work. Because I am PRACTICAL.

Somewhere in The OtherWorld, my mom and dad are having a great laugh, because their ridiculously bohemian youngest daughter is one of the most practical people on the planet. Hi, Mom and Dad! See you in a few decades. Don't wait up. I'm having a really good life. Because I'm PRACTICAL!!!

One last night

Tonight is the last night in my little apartment... My refuge and haven for this year of healing and recharging. It's been a wonderful place, peaceful, quiet and safe, in the best possible location for this stinking town... And I will miss it.

But... I am so excited about moving to the Iowa City area, moving to The City of Awesome, being close to so many more progressive, creative ideas and opportunities. And moving in with Michael, who loves being part of my crazy musical life (and vice versa), has so far been the easiest, smoothest, and funnest move of my entire life. The closer we get to the move-in date the happier we are together. And isn't that exactly how it's supposed to work?

So today I am grateful for this little space that has nourished and protected me for the past year-and-a-bit, this space where I have discovered just how capable and resourceful and smart I actually am. I have made my own decisions, and remarkably few mistakes. Through the end of my marriage, my mother's passing, a broken ankle, the loss of my job, my step-dad's passing, yadda yadda yadda, this little place has sustained me, and allowed me to grow into quite comfortable confidence. I've been blessed more than I can explain.

Thanks to all the helpful spirits that have been with me this year, helped me get there, helped me get through - thanks to my sister Annie, to my faux-daughter Rachel, to Michael, to DJ and Tommy and Kodiak Flats and Bart and Java Creek and The General Store and all the music fans who have supported us... And to Gary and Robin, for being fantastic, responsive and understanding landlords.

When beauty happens...

I rehearsed last night with The Stone City Nephews (John Waite, Jake Niederhauser and Jim Leland). We have had a few ups and downs, some cancellations, some illness, other conflicts... But we're really gelling as a unit now, and the music is becoming beyond beautiful. I could not have imagined anything more perfect than this mix for these songs.

When this kind of beauty happens, the heart gets happier by the note. There were wonderfully pure moments where everything was just right, and even a few wonderfully horrid moments where we all managed to laugh at ourselves. But this music is now becoming what I meant it to be, and it's like watching your child grow up and get a Nobel Prize for Saving The Planet and Being Nice to Puppies. I'm even playing better, finding more right notes than wrong notes and playing some really pretty licks once in a while.

And so, life is good.

Something less snarky

Well, yes, I've been a little angry the past few days. There are a lot of reasons to be quite justifiably angry. There are also a lot of reasons to be grateful and hopeful.

I am grateful that I have the mind and the freewill to resist believing everything I am expected to believe.

I am grateful that I have the skills and the talent to make a living without having to have a job.

I am grateful that America rejected theocracy and fanaticism and turned slightly back toward a progressive, loving future.

I am grateful that intolerance is less tolerable to more people.

I am grateful that PBS will stay on the air, and that funding for education, arts and culture will remain in place. I would be even more grateful if it would increase, but... For now, it'll do.

I am grateful that I have so much love in my life.

I am grateful that my significant-other hates television as much as I do.

I am grateful that I have found my heart's true home, in more ways than one.

I voted

Though I'm no longer sure why. Every year it seems like I am less and less excited about it, less and less convinced that ANY of it matters, less and less proud of the candidates I eventually hold my nose and tick the boxes for...

The corporations that own our government are going to get what they want. We The People of the United States of America were sold down the river decades ago. The only way to get our country back from the corporations is to kill the corporations. STOP SHOPPING. Buy ONLY what you need. Don't buy shit from China. Don't buy shit that's going to break in 6 months. Kill your credit cards. Fuck HSBC. Fuck USBank. Fuck Wells Fargo. Fuck Goldman Sachs. Fuck Edward Jones.

Yes, I am ANGRY, and I ache for my country. I ache for the planet. We're such fucking idiots. We're all fucking idiots. And we just keep getting dumber. We have allowed this to happen because we're not paying fucking attention. We're too distracted by consuming - consuming cheap shitty merchandise that is made to break; consuming cheap shitty television programs that rot our brains; consuming cheap shitty processed food, made with genetically modified raw ingredients grown on factory farms in soil that has been depleted of most of its vitality, and then stripped of what little nutritional value it still has. So we will get fat and sluggish and sit on our couches surfing fecesbook and watching shit on television and eating more shit because we still feel hungry. Oh hey, let's cut funding for arts and education a little more, so we can give tax breaks to wealthy assholes who don't need them. The rich gotta keep getting richer. This is America. Fuck yeah.

But hey, go hold your nose and vote. It's a good habit to be in, and maybe someday it'll matter again.

The Whistling Shit-Can of Death

We loaded our instruments and selves into Slim's blue van (aka The Whistling Shit-Can of Death), and he cranked the engine over - BANG! Hilarity. We were piled in, sitting, squatting, holding on for dear life, headed to KRNL to do two songs on live radio to promote a gig. We pulled onto the campus of Cornell College in sleepy Mt. Vernon, IA, and the van growled dangerously and backfired once more as Slim parked.

We gratefully swarmed out, John, Jake, Slim and me, and Pete, our recording engineer, and Michael, my muse and truest companion. We had their attention, those wide-eyed young college students, so full of promise. We swept through them and made our way to the KRNL studios, both amused and gratified by their attention. Jake led the way, with his rock-star swagger and movie-star looks, followed by Slim, who was literally and figuratively far larger than life in his black leather jacket and jeans tucked into boots, his wildly curly hair flying, his jovial laugh booming, dog-house bass carried high over his shoulder. John, Pete, Michael and I followed in their wake; John's shy sweetness radiating like a space heater because he just can't help it, Pete's New York City cool and puppy-friendly charisma lighting up the room, Michael being the calm, clear eye of the storm, my long coat swirling like Gandalf's cloak behind me...

We crammed into the control room like sardines, Slim in the corner with the bass, Jake and John along the wall next to him, me in the other corner, trying desperately not to hit the wall with my bow... The DJ crawled under the desk because there was no place else for him to be. Student noses pressed against the glass window of the control booth door as we launched into one of Jake's songs, "Dirty South." Nobody held back. Jake's voice boomed like a canon over the top of two dreadnaught guitars, a bass and a fiddle. John's blistering hot bluegrass shredding sparkled and dazzled, my fiddle wailed, giggled and soared...

We're Kodiak Flats and we came to play, so open up your ears and hang the fuck on...