Heather S. Ingemar's Blog, page 43

Taking the Plunge

I'm not the sort to do rash and impulsive things. While I'm not a planner, or an organizer, and while I'm more likely to intuit my way through a situation, I'm not the sort to run off half-cocked.

Or, maybe I am.

Today I submitted materials — namely two of my own songs — to Luna Guitars for their Shining Star Contest to be featured for a month on their front page. (I've uploaded my entries to my Musicianing page, so you can listen to them, too.) This is a HUGE step, especially since I've been writing songs since December, but I figured that if I didn't take the first step now, I never would. Hell, it's taken me this long to even have the guts to sing my own stuff in front of people…

The point is, it was time.

Wish me luck, y'all!

Fun night at the Ale House

Last night the place was PACKED, and I sure had fun! That morning, I was worried, because I'd woken up with a sore throat. But everything worked out fine — tea with honey and lemon sure helps. I had three cups of it, and thankfully, I was able to sing pretty well that night. I did a bunch of new (to me) songs, some early American stuff in addition to the Scots/Irish tunes, and I even got up some guts to play a couple of my own songs (Wait For You, and Elven Song — a solo flute piece). They were well received.

All in all, a very fun night. I'm looking forward to being back there on the 20th of May.

Insecurities

We all have them. Some of us are lucky enough to deal with them, and banish them to the great mental closet of 'past baggage no longer needed.' Others of us? Not so much. And some even love to inflict their insecurities on the rest of us. As a very wise person said, "The things we do not like in others are the things that we do not like about ourselves."

I never would have believed it, but it's so true.

For years, I struggled to be what everyone thought I should be. They told me I was too heavy for my age, too loud, too bossy, too opinionated, too this, too that. And I believed them. For so many years I struggled with extreme depression, anxiety, stress, and self-loathing because I wasn't the ideal. Over twenty years of shaming myself, of guilting myself because I didn't fit.

And then today I found out that the person who has hounded me the most about my weight had been in a relationship where her (thankfully former) spouse repeatedly threatened her if she got an inch over her size 14. And that another person who has dissed my family has actually suffered from the exact things she claims (erroneously) we're guilty of.

It's a perfect example of the adage 'what goes around, comes around,' and I never would have believed it. It's also extremely easy (and sad) to see how this cycle continues…

But me? I'm done with it all. I wish I had noticed this pattern earlier (much earlier, really), but that's the way life goes. I probably wasn't ready to admit such a crazy, insane thing was possible. Now, however, the blinders are off, and I feel like I'm finally ready to move on with my life.

Hello, blue skies…

Going Vertical

Who needs extreme sports when you can go build fence?

Every spring, the routine is the same. You have to check the fence for holes — those both in existence and those that can become one real fast — before you turn your animals onto pasture. Winter and wild animals take a terrible toll on fences. Trees that died during the summer often fall from rot or the weight of snow with uncanny precision onto your fence. Elk and other wild animals on the run can tear out a fence without even noticing it's there, stringing the pieces out for several yards and leaving broken and bent posts in their wake.

These are just a few of the issues we deal with every year in addition to the normal wear and tear a fence goes through.

Your gear for a day of fence fixing includes everything you might need: a replacement coil of wire, staples (for wood posts) and clippies (for metal T posts), pliers, hammer, chainsaw, posts (metal or wood or both), post driver (for metal), and post-hole diggers (for wood). If you can manage to carry it, water and a snack make the trip as well. You want to have as much of everything with you as physically possible, because even a single trip back to the house can eat up precious hours of time and energy.

The fun part comes when only part of your fence is accessible by ATV, and you have to — quite literally — carry your gear on foot the rest of the way.

Today, Hubby and I logged somewhere between 3 and 4 miles on foot with all our gear minus posts in tow. A lot of the terrain was very near totally vertical, and tonight my knees and feet shake with stress when I go up and down the stairs in the house. It was a good days' work, though, and well-worth the peace of mind we'll have when our girls are all on the same side of the fence.

Gone: a fictional poem

It is very strange indeed when fictional characters talk in poetry…

Yesterday

She came for her things.

The papers she brought

contained words:

Irreconcilable

Differences.

Do you know futility?

It's like talking

to a wall,

or a mannequin

with solid porcelain ears.

Yesterday,

She left.

Today

it snowed,

and all my newly budded

daffodils

have tipped their heads

down

as if disconsolate

and weeping

in the irrefutable

cold.

I particularly like the bit about my voice…

I farmer-ized my ukulele

The strings on Nika (my Lanikai tenor) have finally settled down. This is very good, considering my next Ale House gig is next week. The bad thing? Her intonation sucked as you move up the fretboard. I know this because I'm cursed blessed with perfect pitch (relative, not absolute), and when I say her intonation sucks, that means that cats are screaming from the neighbor's house…

But, a little bit of reference librarian-worthy research, and I found this tidbit: apparently when your stringed instrument goes sharp as you move up the fretboard, it means the bridge is too close. After taking a few breaths and reminding myself to not panic about potential expensive music store repairs, I sat down with Nika and took a really good look at her setup.

Her action is not bad. It's higher than my Luna, but not outrageously, uncomfortably so. Her frets look tidy, and her neck is straight as an arrow. However, I did find the saddle was leaning forward on the bridge. Problem! Upon closer inspection (and a serious loosening of the strings), I found the saddle groove was not crooked as I feared, but that there was extra space.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. I sliced and diced a thin piece of cardboard to fit and slipped it in on the front side of the saddle, pushing it upright and back. I re-tightened the strings, and voila! Perfectly in tune ukulele!

I'm getting pretty handy at this Do It Yourself-er stuff!

The writer-lady is busy

And boy, have I!

I wrote and finished a new song last week, which I will be very happy to post the lyrics of here in a few days (as soon as I'm done fussing with it).
I am now on the very final edits of "Crown of Thorns!" Wahoo! I smell publication in the air!!!
I just received the first round of edits from my editor for "The Goblin Queen." Haven't looked at them yet, but I have them in my hot little hand.
I've been working on another narrative poem/verse story/flash fiction piece, utilizing a snippet of a story from a year or so ago that absolutely refused to be a standard piece of prose. So far, so good. (Furthering my convictions that stories choose their own forms.)

Exciting times!

Grave Flower

I set the shovel at my feet

And press.

It slides into the wet earth,

A knife into butter.

The grave –

Humped,

Patted,

Filled –

Stretches out before me.

I ache

Deep inside

As if all the dirt I piled

Came from my chest

And left a hole

As I smoothed it down.

I can't look, can't look away,

So I study my shoes.

A tiny,

Brilliant,

Beautiful

Johnny Jump-up

Nods over my toes.

Honest music

Not all music is honest.

I'm not talking about emotions or writing –  there's a lot of really powerful, really candid songs out there — I'm talking about the raw connection between man and instrument and man and sound. It's one of the reasons why I'm such a sucker for live music (especially acoustic). It's honest. In this world where a talented sound engineer can create an entire Rachmaninoff piano concerto from a simple library of individual key sounds, musical honesty has become very rare. How often have you heard a song on the radio or bought a new album by an artist you love… only to find out they consistently sound like crap in concert? And we ALL know that these days, musical acts are more often chosen for their crowd appeal and dancing routines than their musicianship.

Live music is the one arena where what you see is pretty much what you get. While it's not impossible to "fake it" on the live stage, it's harder to be what you're not. Physical instruments, while forgiving, insist you play. And when you do play, the physics don't lie.

Yeah, it's probably not as polished as that favorite studio track of yours, and it may be a little rough around the edges, but acoustic music has a lot of charm. It's the next-door neighbor who brings you home made cookies for Christmas, and invites you to spend Easter over for dinner if you've got no family nearby.

But the thing I like most about honest, live music? You can find it anywhere.