I played a show here in Oakland last night - tiny coffee shop with lots of listeners, many friends of my sister who is a cabinet maker here, but some fans and other musicians who were very attentive and enjoyed my music.

I grew up in Los Angeles - a far cry from this part of California but still very similar to me.  The air smells like Eucalyptus, the houses are all one-story wood affairs - no brick or basements - and the vibe is laid back and relaxed.  Not the urgency of the East Coast or the fatalism of the midwest.  No hard winters to make it through - just earthquakes and fires - things that happen and then are over.

It’s amazing to me how different people are from city to city.  Even as the world seems to get smaller and smaller because of the consolidation of the media and the pervasiveness of the internet - people are still products of their environment and their communities - the air they breathe and weather they endure or enjoy.  It’s a good thing, I think.  I feel lucky to experience it and so happy to be able to share it even if only for a brief moment.

The thing I will always remember about that night was the rabbi.  He gave a short sermon, or “drash” before he married the couple. And it was about the words Lech Lecha.  Of course, being Judaism there are many interpretations of those words, but the one that stuck with me was “you must go out and become a stranger in the world to find yourself”

I am thinking about Lech Lecha alot this morning - especially now that I really am by myself.  Mike is on a plane back to Chicago today - I dropped him off at the airport a few hours ago.

I don’t mind doing my music by myself.  I like the freedom that gives me, but to have someone to share the experiences of the road - the endless driving - the gigs where no one is there - the moments when you can experience a part of the country you don’t really know - it becomes so much more meaningful when shared with someone.

I have another week of shows.  More opportunites to play my music for people, get to know them and their city and their scene a bit.  I guess I’ll have to remember all the experiences and share them when I get home.  But it won’t be the same.
Lech Lecha.

Tomorrow night is my first show of the tour - in Brooklyn with Jonathan Kane’s February. I’m really excited about it and a bit nervous.  I’m hoping to just focus and communicate.

It’s kind of nostalgic being here in State College - me and Jason’s (of Jason and Alison - great name - I know) first tour started here opening for Live - just as they were breaking.  They were touring behind Throwing Copper and the show we did here at the University was packed - must have been 3,000 screaming kids.  It was great.  Just the two of us on that big stage in that big hall/stadium.  A bit surreal.
Mike and I listened to the Minutemen in the car today.  Good reminder of why I’m here and what inspires me and keeps me grounded.  Never thought when I was listening to them that I would play one of their songs on my cello.  Never occured to me the two would meet.

When I think about what music has influenced me, it’s pretty disparate.  The recording of the Dvorak Cello Concerto my dad bought me when I was 8.  Really hearing the Who record my brother played for me when I was 22.  Listening to Copper Blue over and over again and never getting tired of it.  Seeing the Meat Puppets and losing myself in the shear volume of it.

I think what all this music has in common is  that it goes straight for your soul.  Like Jimi Hendrix said when Dick Cavett asked him why he played so loud.  Its about connecting to what it is to be human and feel - to love and be hurt - to want something better for yourself.  To connect with something bigger than yourself.

Anyway, check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O0vl8CQ_5iE&feature=related
He talks about not playing or enjoying music that people consider typical for his instrument, which I can relate to, as a cellist. He’s more interested in communicating with it and transcending the preconceptions we have about it.

I tend to equate being happy with my life as settling for less than what I want. My boyfriend Mike and I were talking about this. He feels that enjoying the moment is enjoying the process of your life. Of the things that come up when you ask alot of yourself - when you set your mind on a goal. We were talking about how friendships change and grow. How it’s possible to grow apart from people. To move on.

This is really hard for me - to accept that change means leaving some things behind. I got a very strong message as a kid to take care of others - to do things to make others happy. But what happens, I’m starting to realize, is that the person that gets left behind is myself.