Thursday, December 31, 2009
One by one my lovers come. They call, they write, they wish me the best. Wish for a kiss.
I am alone. And perhaps the best New Year's Eves I've had have been spent alone, quietly contemplating. I see people posting about how 2009 was a hard year, good riddance. But, I think, don't we say that about every year? Life is hard, it gets harder, each year is worse. I didn't want to cast the stones, but...
...2009 was hard. I lost love, my band, my innocence. I know I'm still young, but a large part of my invincibility died this year when I saw my father in that hospital bed. Everything ends. I always knew. But beneath my knowledge of endings there was also the belief that nothing ever ends.
And it doesn't.
But it does.
People leave. They die. They tell you they are moving on to solo careers. They tell you they are not in love with you anymore. Or they say nothing. They are just gone.
I miss my band. So much. I miss believing that my father was a constant, unchangeable force in the world. I miss love. Just love. I miss being invincible - even if other people found it intolerable. I miss my cats, having a home, and feeling safe.
I love my new music, my friends old and new, the new possibilities in my life. I love my family, and my art. I love being unencumbered by things like home, and bills, and jobs. I love being able to travel.
I'm moving forward. With grief. With relief. With acceptance. With anger. With sadness. With love.
New Year's Eve is always cathartic, intense. And this year is also a new decade. And a blue moon. How many arbitrary numbers align to add an extra kick to just another night.
I am uncompromising in my need to create. I wish for all who read this to be a little bit more this way. Compromise makes us safe. And let me tell you, I am not safe. But I am free. And if you can find a better balance, between safety and freedom, between home and passion, between reason and insanity, then do it.
Goodnight friends - though when you read this the night will be over.
I am the walrus.
Monday, December 14, 2009
A friend of mine got mad at me the other night because in the past I have been negative about Oakland. Dissecting my negativity I realized that while there are many things I love and many things I do not love about Oakland, I really just don't want to live here anymore and I'm trying to convince myself it's ok by being negative about it, when I really could just be ok with not wanting to live here.
A short list of things I love about Oakland:
My friends: some of the worlds best artists and musicians live in Oakland. Also some of the world's best friends.
The soup bus: a converted city bus on which a friend makes and serves soup to his friends once a week.
Art: an interesting, and vibrant art scene that thrives on exploration and interaction.
Projects like this: http://www.originalscraperbikes.blogspot.com/
The cute boy sitting opposite me at the coffee shop this morning: he asked me to watch his laptop while he went outside. He has a really nice smile.
There are things to be negative about in every city, and I have some criticisms about Oakland that are useful and some that really aren't. I am ready to move on, but having a hard time because my friends and family are here.
And who knows? Maybe I will live here for the rest of my life. I don't have plans right now beyond the making of my album. I love Berlin and can see myself living there but right now I can only focus on one thing.
I start to rehearse with a band today. Strings at my show tomorrow! Really excited! Yay!
And this is a conversation started by my last post: Pretty Cute for a Homeless Girl
wakingdreaming (http://wakingdreaming.livejournal.com/) has left a new comment on your post "Pretty Cute for a Homeless Girl":
"I kind of feel like you're trivializing homelessness with all of this. You're not really homeless, in the sense that kid was probably homeless. You were staying someplace, whether it was in a hotel, motel, or someone's house or apartment or whatever. You have money to do what you want and need to do. That kid didn't.
I'm annoyed you didn't help him out to get a shower just because you have a "list" of things to do. I'm really disappointed you couldn't take time out to help someone for real. I'm a fan of you but I won't be buying any of your "cute for a homeless girl" shirts because you're not really homeless and pretending you are isn't cute or funny."
I suppose it might sound like I am trivializing homelessness though it certainly was not my intention. All I meant to do was talk about my experience, which is that of being without a home. I never stated, or even implied that I sleep on the street. I do have places to sleep, shower, be warm, safe, and loved.
I related that story because to me it was an intriguing pick up line. Not that I thought it was coming from a place of sexual desire - more from a place of human interaction. I do not feel obligated to give anybody a shower - certainly not when I don't even have a shower at my disposal. I can't afford hotels and friends are lovely and tolerant of my wandering nature but not so keen on me bringing other people over to shower. I do not feel obligated to talk to people, or spend time with them. When I talk to someone it is because I want to. Sometimes I might seem aloof for not talking to people but I think obligation cheapens human interaction. I had a very nice conversation with a homeless man the other night, because I wanted to.
I will continue to say things off the cuff, let things fly. I will also continue to write what I think of, even if/when it trivializes, or potentially offends. Better than than silence. Even if I get a comment about how someone is annoyed with me. I'd rather an honest communication than none at all.
This has reminded me of one of my very favorite books: Down and Out in Paris and London - by George Orwell
"Down and Out in Paris and London, published in 1933, is the first full-length work by the English author George Orwell. It is a story in two parts on the theme of poverty in the two cities. The first part is a picaresque account of living on the breadline in Paris and the experience of casual labour in restaurant kitchens. The second part is a travelogue of life on the road in and around London from the tramp's perspective, with descriptions of the types of hostel accommodation available and some of the characters to be found living on the margins. Orwell gives it an autobiographical feel by interposing chapters presenting his personal opinions."
George Orwell is a truly fantastic writer, I love his mind. Great read!
Buy the book through Alibris
And you can still buy a t-shirt, if you want. But I get a temporary home in three days so get them while they're hot (or at least while I'm hot.)
Friday, December 11, 2009
Photographer on Flickr
Yesterday, as I was getting into my van, a youngish man approached me.
"What are you doing today?" He asked in a familiar tone.
"Stuff." I answered.
"Are you going home?"
"I'm looking for a place to shower." He explained.
"I'm sort of homeless myself," I said, "I can't really help you." His eyes scanned the van.
"Do you travel around?" He asked hopefully.
"Do you want to hang out?"
"No thank you, I'm busy today."
But he kept watching me like a sad puppy. And I thought for a moment that my world might expand just a little bit if I said yes and spent time with this stranger. But I actually was busy yesterday. And today. The list of things to do never ends - we all have it, the list that gets longer and longer, the more you accomplish the more there is to do.
Today I feel a little buried under the list. Not much of a list really, more of a tangle.
But on a good note: Tuesday night's show was lovely. The audience was tiny but dedicated and I love my fans. I got a big beautiful gift basket filled with flowers, chocolate and port wine, and I got a really yummy eggplant parmesan dinner. People travelled from far away to come see me. People took time out of their busy list-filled lives to listen to me. For this I am grateful.
I have a tiny little following of dedicated, intelligent, creative, lovely people who are all intense in their own ways, and love what I do. Even when I feel I am floundering, lost in an abyss of "I don't know how to do it all over again!" I can look to the gifts I have, the people who support me, the daily emails of appreciation.
It's good, my ambition is a bottomless pit. Exhausting, and exhaustive.
It's hard to be homeless, internet connection doesn't always happen where I am staying and I live out of a suitcase. I don't get to rehearse enough and I haven't had a good night's sleep in a few weeks.
But I'm pretty cute for a homeless girl. And you can purchase a t-shirt that says so.
Read a review of tuesday Night's show here: Review
Buy tickets for next week's show here: Tickets
Buy a "Kim Boekbinder - pretty cute for a homeless girl" shirt here by sending $20 to kim (at) kimboekbinder.com via paypal - specify gender and size.
Pre-order my album and make love to the universe here: www.theimpossiblegirl.com
I've posted my new song in the member's section of my pre-order website - if you are a member you can hear the new song!!!