Voxen

for the record, voxen is a word i made up to describe vocal slut-ery. is when a singer is involved in multiple projects and doing a bunch of guest tracks etc.
just so we're clear, when months from now people steal it and try to pretend they've been saying it for years...
just kidding, go ahead, take it, it's yours :)
anyway,
today i want to vent a little bit on the challenges of being a lead singer. and then end with a most perfect story of how the high road sometimes does have its rewards.
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so-  when you sit back and think it,  what you're really saying when you sing in a band is:  "i am interesting and talented enough to demand your attention."
there's no way around it. no one would ever choose to do this if they didn't believe that in some way.
and that's always been the struggle. i do think i'm talented enough to demand your attention. but i also know how much better so many other people are and how i pale in comparison.
but being self-aware never helped anyone in this business. so you have to fake it. and accept that some people are going to feel it's their job to tear you down and put you in your place.
people want to go "hey. HEY! you're not as good as you think you are, you know. let me make you a list..." and you wanna say "dude, i'm well aware. but i'm tryin to pretend here."

one thing i do share with my diva alter ego is that we both are very good at pretending to be much stronger than we are. it's unfortunate because people feel they can be a little rougher with me than i'd like.

but at the end of the day, it is what it is. i like singing. and there are 4 wonderful guys who want me to be their lead singer. and they've seen me attempt the same riff 15 times and fucking it up over and over. and finally get it right. and they've seen me nail a track in one take. and they know what i sound like without auto-tune. and they're patient while i learn the harmony.
it's actually a pretty amazing relationship to have. singing in front of people is nerve wracking for almost everyone. i feel lucky to have such a supportive environment to grow in.
also blah blah blah emotional love crap. i'm such a hippy these days.
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and now the story:
a review of our album was posted which was highly critical of my skills as a vocalist. since i'm publicly blogging about this I will be very upfront. It is my opinion, that it was an unfair review. i feel it was bias and a passive aggressive attempt to hurt me. A particularly caustic line called me "the Achilles heel of the band." As strong as I want to pretend I am, band practice later that night was chock full of insecurity and self-doubt. If the goal was to hurt me, it worked. I was very hurt.

so- i went through the normal internal immature response options and decided that the if i wanted to be a good, mature, loving person it meant three things:
1-deciding that bad press is still press. and honestly, if i read a something where the singer was given such a harsh review, i'd definitely have to go buy it to see how bad it really was.
2- working even harder to promote the album and essentially "get a second opinion."
and 3- not standing up for myself no matter how much i wanted to. because it's purely selfish.
then
today
we got our first album review in Seattle Weekly and it was ... satisfying.

Singer Kari Tarr has an enchanting and powerful voice that's the undisputed backbone of the group.

True happiness (i think) comes from putting your energy into things that will have a positive impact. I've made it a habit of putting all the pain I'm going through and anger I feel toward things into songs.  

and then..

The lyrics are believable and genuine, unlike the emo-pop mouthful typical of competing girl bands.

the high road is a little less lonely today. 

#lessons_from_the_universe

the shortcuts never heal

last night c and pirate came over while i was (naturally) drinking wine and  flailing around my piano in expensive lingere. #forgottheybothhavekeystomyplace
she said she had sad news. i immediately knew she got the job back east and would be leaving me.
i *always* cry when friends move away. . it's something i did a lot growing up, so it doesn't feel like it should be less sad now. doesn't feel like part of "the grown up experience." it is all too familiar.
after she left last night, n was trying to tell me a story and i made him stop and proceeded to sob like a maniac.
part of was (obvs) the wine, part of it was the recent discovery how few true friends i've made in Seattle, part of lamenting the loss of a very strong support web that took me a long time to build. part of it is me being way to sensitive for my own good. all of it is just plain selfish.
whenever good friends move away, i usually dedicate a blog post to happy memories and inside jokes. they're a riot to read years later. There are some weird ass jokes me and Dirtlot had that we still can't figure out.
So following with tradition, here are things I'll miss about C
1. On my 29th birthday, having just broken up with my bf of 2 years and subsequently losing all our mutual friends, I protested and refused to plan anything. I was sitting at home watching movies alone when she demanded we run into the street in our pajamas at midnight have a toast. So we met at the coffee shop between our apartment buildings in ugg boots and satin robes and drank a bottle of wine on the street.
2. All of our dramatic readings of publicly posted things, which really really shouldn't be.
3. Always having someone around who knows how to properly lace a corset for you.
4. "This is what success looks like" photoshoots
5. the longest standing group SMS in the history of group SMSes.
6. The thanksgiving where we spent hours playing words with friends on our iphones with everyone in the room.
7. Knudsen...
8. Finally giving  me a proper "girls night" after years of refusing.
9. foreign currency
10. Sauced Rent sing-a-longs in the streets after last call.
11. Always wetting the eyeliner brush like momma Cher taught us.
here's to the nights...

coffee black and egg white

i was really pumped to give presents this year, thinking i'd pretty much owned christmas. but the gifts i received were ridiculous...

My parents got me a piano. a fucking piano. i haven't had a night alone to myself yet to really break it in, but so far i've never been more in love with anything. 

cw left a package on my doorstep before leaving town with a framed copy of a song he wrote for me, a book on horror movies, a DVD of "Original Sin" since I wore my old copy out, and a Taco Bell gift certificate. 

and then today, pirate brought over a brand new record player, receiver, amp and giant speakers. 

everyone is one-upping me. 

this year seems to be all about quality v. quantity and it's showing in the holiday season most of all. 

fewer extravagant parties and more staying up all night doing puzzles. 

fewer group vacations and more 3 person dinner parties. 

everything always looks better on the other side but...

i'm alone in my house for the first time in a week with 200 new records, a record player, a piano and a decked out kitchen ready to conquer blueberry chutney once and for all.

feels like i'm armed for 2012. surrounded by all the things that give me true catharsis. 

feels like i'm set to start really focusing putting effort into the things that make me glad i'm me. 

feeling like i'm in a place to really let go of everything and just exist. 

also helps that i have a new crush on a boy...

you drew the lines a bit too straight, and they became the lines you hate

one day... one day i'll sleep. 4th night in a row sub-5 hours. normally when i'm feeling sadly i sleep like crazy.
not sure why i'm resisting... feels like night is the only time i feel at peace and i don't wanna waste it sleeping.
last night, after the parents went back to their hotel, I went instrument ADD.
was absentmindedly flipping between ukelele and guitar throughout dinner.
then the parents left and i pulled out the records my mom gave me. started listening to stairway to heaven and decided to bust out my flute and play along.
then spent at least 2 hours playing with the songify app.
then went through all the songs i've recorded on my iphone's voice memo app.
then listened to all the old Water with Lemon music, then my dad's album...
my living room is strange looking...

think the sleep deprivation is getting to me...
9 more hours of work til i can rest.

these memories lose their meaning, when i think of love as something new

my problem-
i can never seem to figure out the right place on the "reactions to painful situations" spectrum.
On one side, we get just overly depressed. blow the situation up into something worse than it actually is. and wallow obsessively.
on the other side, we force it into something that's not hurtful. rebounding or lying to ourselves.
somewhere in the middle there's a sweet spot but no one ever seems to agree on what that is.

instinct is the wallowing side. but we're constantly told that it's weak. friends reinforce this by offering perspective to make you feel less sad.
since most people just aren't that strong, they typically end up somewhere in the healthy middle.

but i've lived most of my life trying to overcome the things society tells us are weak. refusing to be "that girl." putting myself in positions where it's impossible to hurt me.

and then every so often, my defenses fail and I have to face the spectrum again. and i'm so in my head about my reactions and my mood being MY choice, that any tinge of sadness i let slip is mixed with guilt and i'm upset at myself for being upset.

the wallowing side is dangerous. once you allow yourself to just be sad, it can be very hard to get back out of it. it becomes easier and easier to see all the ugly. and harder and harder to see the good stuff.

but the forcing side is just as dangerous. the lies that made you feel better get proven wrong. the actions you take to feel better don't work and leave you feeling shittier for making an effort.

 any way of looking at things offers inversely related levels of truth and comfort. the trick seems to be finding the balance.

and i think the whole "grieving process" in general is people flipping around the spectrum trying to find that balance.

so i feel like you can skip the whole thing if you just take time to figure it out.

but i always err on the side of overcompensating for weakness.
and i'm doing okay until i start listening to the beatles after 3 glasses of wine and suddenly i'm tearing up and even I don't know why.
maybe there's no amount of rationalization that can compete with good music.
no matter how much you convince yourself that it wasn't right, you were both unhappy, it's for the best, your trust issues would have destroyed you, he didn't believe in marriage....
none of that seems to matter in the face of "in my life... i love you more..."

conversations with the universe

dear universe,
no more character tests, at least this week. really doin my best to be the bigger person but is getting mighty challenging.
i'll take heartbreak over this any day. at least heartbreak brings me music. this is just existentially sad.
i take that back. no more heartbreak either. really struggling on that front too.
maybe go with work stress, i mean if you have to throw something my way. actually, no. cup is full there too.
how about just an over all reminder that things are gonna be okay?
actually, upon review, bring on the tests, the stress. i seem to remember none of that mattering much when my heart felt okay.
or, if you could, maybe lay off the hard stuff until my heart feels better? sort of a one thing at a time deal?
hmm. i guess, i don't know what to ask for here.
not your fault.
i'll figure this out. you keep doin your thing.
love,
Kari

when you're going through hell, keep goin

this weekend i was walking downtown and a dog came running past me followed by it's owner. upon catching the dog, the owner proceeded to beat him in a very public square. everyone looked on in horror. a few people yelled things. the owner and his friends cursed and waved knives at the people to mind their own business. 
i watched, unsure of what to do. and ultimately ducked into a store out of fear of getting shot, as people who interfere with crazy thugs downtown are wont to do.
earlier tonight some friends of mine did something that i thought was irrationally cruel, publicly, to someone i don't know.
maybe part of it was the dog. maybe part of it was feeling tired of people people cruel to each other and having no one stand up for them, but i posted a public rebuttle and defended someone i barely know and most people really dislike.
and i felt like an annoying hippy free love type, but it made me cry. i don't even know the kid and wasn't personally affected by what he did, but i felt existentially sad for the universe that ugliness and hatred exist and keeps spiraling. you hurt someone, they're friend hurts you, your friend hurts them. it never ends and no one seems to be strong enough to let it all go.
and part of it is my own bias. i'm living in a world where i'm being punished for hurting someone by losing the friendship of almost everyone i've loved for the last 3 years. and i'm trying. i'm really really trying not to be hateful or blame anyone. i want perspective. i want to be compassionate. and it is SO much easier to say "fuck them for the hurt they're causing me." but i really want to be above it.
so,
like the sign of a true friend, i told the pirate that i was too upset to hang out and work on our puzzle and needed to be alone and write  and he finished his glass of wine, told me he loved me and left me without guilt.
 and then because i was feeling generous i friended the random person who added me on facebook.
and she messaged me and said "i just wanted to let you know, that i love your voice and your music ins amazing and inspires me."
and i was just about to give up on this silly "be good to each other" song i was writing about today.
sometimes it feels like the universe is being such a dick even though you keep trying to do what you think is right. and then sometimes it sends you a little message.
so i'm gonna let go. everyone else can deal with things their way, but i'm not gonna give up on people. everyone is someone's little girl or boy. everyone started off innocent. everyone's just trying to find their own peace in a world that makes it next to impossible. it's easy to judge someone for how they're trying to manage, but what's the fucking point.
some silly high school girl told me my music gave her a "musical orgasm" and it was more cathartic than anything i could have done myself.
so i guess my advice is , put your energy into making the world better for someone, instead of worse for someone else?
and in the immortal words of amanda palmer, "remember we're all gonna die, so be good to each other."

people like me don't write books, they're written about...

glorious alone time, how i've missed thee. sitting on my love seat, watching terrible horror movies, eating tuna fish straight our of the mixing bowl after a bubble bath catered by whatever overpriced bottles of magic the spa woman "recommeded" for me.
brain is fuzzy after another weekend of chaos. all i can really handle right now is food and cheesy horror.
went to a christmas party hosted by the guy and gal who run Fat Collie. reminded me a lot of my days as a hispter on the hill. cool house filled with record players and antique cameras and tons of self-done photography.  really interesting and genuine people. all musicians. ended up in a drum circle, RHCP sing-alongs. was very happy.
ended the night back in belltown with a group of closer friends catching up with mcglaak while they were in town. miss them a lot. felt good to be surrounded with a bunch of people i love. first night in a long time where i didn't have to try at all. things just felt right. fell asleep satisfied.

and then saturday... dear lord...a silly drunken idea i had for a promo video turned into me and the guys from peace mercutio and the lookout at the studio attempting to work out parts for this a capella song but ended up with drinking and talking musical trash.

went to alabaster's release show and proceeded to a- get fucked in half drunk and b- have the time of my effing life. if i could hang out with other bands all day every day for the rest of my life, i would.
ended up in a hotel a few blocks from ElCo for the celebratory after-party.  the night kinda ends in a fuzzy mess of gummy bears, champagne and aerosmith.

and it's taken me until tonight to remember how to spell words but was totally worth it. getting so psyched for our release party show.

k switching to gossip girl...

if it's only a game, you lost me

it's probably a good thing that key arena makes it impossible to use your phone during events, because i came very close to quite an expensive purchase of passion.
rock shows that give me goosebumps + amazon one click buy on my cell phone + open bar backstage = expensive decisions.
the quest for a piano continues and it's getting less and less likely that i'll make my dream of having an upright acoustic in my apartment. it's becoming more evident that i should settle for an electric. but whatevs, if the teensy midi synth makes me as happy as it has, i'm sure i'll fall madly in love with anything that lets me slay it.
still... candles and wine belong on wood not plastic. (song lyric?)

am still recovering from girls night. i think i hate that word almost as much as "boyfriend." somewhere along the line i started to rebel against things that are... immaturely girlie sounding. became your cliche "all my close friends are guys" and "i don't get along with girls." but in my later years, i'm coming around. Girl's nights are actually very necessary for mental health. My theory is, since women are naturally catty, we need the outlet.  every now and then it feels really good to say yes to the second bottle of wine at 1am and say the things you're ashamed to have thought. so really, girls nights aren't about bad movies and stupid food. it's about being a total bitch for a few hours.

i'm boring myself. gonna wrap this and start a fun list.

but the pieces won't pick up themselves, you know

Feelin a list entry today.

Things affecting me this week:
1. Melancholia.
Gorgeous entirely metaphorical film about the beauty of our own mortality. Truly amazing character development (or lack there of) creating a wonderful little fable of a film. Depressed rich people dealing with the concept of their death. If you hate your life does knowing its end change anything for you? I've seen it twice in the last week.  Lars Von Trier is clearly one of the more manic artists of our time, but I'm glad he's making art with it. More than I can say for myself right now with my stupid damien rice knock offs.

2. My baby synth
I've been recruited to play synth for the band's live shows. We put some crucial synth parts into the last record and needed someone to play them live. Hence, me has a little 2 octave mini synth at my house. This has caused me to write deliciously terrible emo piano songs, that i'm quite proud of. All the girl-with-acoustic-guitar stuff is sounding ripe when transposed to piano. The OCD in me is getting anxious not having an outlet for it yet, but I'll get around to that once the inspiration plateaus. There is NOTHING more cliche and wonderful than playing piano with wine by candle light while looking out at my the seattle skyline at night. Regina Spektor, I'm comin for you...

3. Bandmance
Went out last weekend with the guys from PM, Alabaster and Lookout. Had an epic night of music chats, cheap beer drinking, pool shooting and drunken karaoke performances. Didn't realize it at the time, but it's been the catharsis I was needing to deal with all the fallout. Feels like my breakups leave graveyards all over everything. Nothing but death and loneliness and regret and guilt. I suppose the options are, try and repair the damage or make new friends. I hadn't been doing either.Probably because mild attempts at either had been making me feel worse. Anyway, a night of being the only girl around a bunch of musicians was just the thing I needed to remind me what it feels like to let go of the past for just a little while. everyone's an attention whore, i just admit it... often...

4.  The Itis 2011
I effing got sick :( First time this year. aaaalmost made it. Probably a combination of very little sleep, lots of stress at work, social life upheaval and a weekend of binge drinking.. or 2.. or all. But I took a few half days at work (no rest for the apubs!), slept more in one night than i had in a week, and had someone make me chicken soup against my will while I was mildly blacked out on medicine.

Aaaaand I'm duckin out early to catch GroupLove at the Deck the Hall Ball. Much thanks to the Pirate, who's cousin is the drummer and thus scoring us backstage passes to see Deathcab later tonight. I'm giving jangly music a chance. be proud. i'm growing.

"depression's like a fur coat. it's made of dead things but it keeps me warm."