What is Folk Sustainability?

A few days ago, I took a moment to step off the Struggle Bus, the imaginary vehicle I feel like I’ve been riding lately, and assessed the situation. There are a ton of factors in life that we cannot control. However, we are in control of our ability to create movement and change. I can influence which direction I want things go, similar to sending a small toy sailboat across a pond. My little boat might reach the other side. Or the wind may pick up and pull it in another way entirely. In any event, I created some ripples and the Universe has my vote for consideration.

These days, the word “sustainability” most often pertains to the environment. It’s about keeping Mother Earth happy so she is willing and able to sustain future generations. But there are layers of meaning in this little word, “sustain,” and it can be applied to so many aspects of life. To sustain means to endure, to bear the weight, to nourish, to validate. It is my mantra upon waking these days, “I can sustain this. I will get through this.” And what is this? This is helping a seriously ailing parent and all of the feelings involved (my horror with our broken healthcare system grows daily). At the same time, I’ve got my own life. Although it feels on hold for the moment, it really isn’t.  With all that’s going on, I figure it’d be extremely good for morale (and dare I say, fun?) to focus some energy on creating and documenting some positive, personal change. And lo, Laura’s Folk Sustainability Project is born!

Google tells me the term “Folk Sustainability” doesn’t exist. Well, it does now. I added “folk” for a couple of reasons. Obviously, I’m a folk musician. As agents of change and keepers of the people’s music, I think every folk artist should look into a sustainable lifestyle. But “folk” is also another word for traditional and ordinary. Folky things are common knowledge. They are totally accessible to everyone. I’m no expert in sustainability, but with a little exploration, I’d like to think I can find my own way down the righteous path of Sustainability, both as a musician and as a citizen of this planet.

Three types of sustainability will be covered in the Folk Sustainability Project:

1)      Sustainable Lifestyle: Minimizing This Musician’s Ecological Footprint.
2)      Sustainable Music: Making Music In Today’s Changing Industry.
3)      Sustainable Social Activism: Standing Up. Speaking Out. Staying Centered.

All three are deeply interrelated, but separate topics. No doubt I will be grappling with that in future entries. In any event, I’ll be learning as I go, and I welcome your suggestions and comments. I hope this project will be a source of great information, healing and strength for everyone, not just me.

And look at that, it’s Chinese New Year. What a perfect day to start.

Hello 2012

I am in New York City for the first time in a year. Last night, I played at a beautiful benefit event for Paradigm Shift on the Lower East Side. It was a friggin’ love-fest with some of my favorite people gathered together for a great cause. Hamell on Trial rocked our socks off. It was exactly what I needed.

Now, here I am drinking a cappuccino and eating a froufy salad. I’m trying to enjoy a two-day vacation before dealing with what’s next. But my brain won’t back off. “What’s next? What’s next? WHAT’S NEXT?!!” And the more I attempt to answer this question, the more I realize that I have no way of knowing or controlling what’s next. By day 12, I’ve raised a white flag and am calling 2012 “The Year of Surrender”.

Currently, I have a one-way ticket to Phoenix. I’ll be leaving on Saturday. This topic does a little tap dance on the line between public and private information. On the one hand, it’s extremely personal. On the other hand, it’s a very large part of my life and it is deeply tied to my relationship with music.

My mom is very sick. She has been sick for years with a disease that doctors have failed to identify or treat. It is a degenerative neurological condition without a name. They’ve called it CFS, Fibromyalgia, Parkinsons, MSA… Whatever it is, no matter what drugs they’ve pumped into her, mom’s body has remained locked in a process of slow shutdown since I was in 3rd grade.

I started writing songs because it was the one thing that felt right. Everything at home was wrong, but music was right. It actually had the power to make unhappy people feel happy again. That was magic to me. In the beginning, mom was always the first to hear my new songs. She hasn’t ever been able to see me play live outside of her living room, but she tells everyone with pride that her daughter is a musician.

So now, where do things stand? Have we finally reached the last stage of this illness? It is definitely a transition point where certain things need to be taken care of at home. Thus far, I’ve experienced nothing more painful than watching mom struggle without a cure for years. In the end, the best thing I can do is simply listen to what she has to say.

But in the name of sanity, I also have to listen to myself. This ends up being surprisingly difficult. My various little inner-voices, incessant inner-monologues, blahblahblah. And somewhere in that mess, my heart is whispering what I’m actually feeling or supposed to be doing. It’s so easy to just look to the outside world for guidance. But rarely does that actually get you where you need to be.

So I am sitting here poking at the leftover bits of my froufy salad (turns out there is such a thing as too much arugula), listening. And all I hear is, “Everything will work out.” Giving up my day job so I can go to Arizona for a little while to take care of some important things is what I need to do. Of course, I’m not thrilled with the scenario, but I’m also feeling extremely fortunate that things are falling into place so that I’m able to help. Lead the way, heart. Off we go, into 2012. I’m actually listening, for once.

Moving on… up.

Great news! Tomorrow, we will have a couch. Behind me sits a beautiful example of Art Deco woodwork in the form of a dresser. I swear, it smells like… like smoke, Old Spice, and the WPA. Thank you, Craigslist. We will treasure it always.

Boxes full of only slightly useful things.

On Saturday, this past weekend, we dragged the last of my belongings out of a Budget Rental Moving Truck and up the purple stairs. Having now brought all of my things from Phoenix to New York City to Albany to Chicago, I realize upon opening each box… that a fair amount of it is junk. It’s like I’ve been carrying all of these prior versions of myself for posterity. But posterity is friggin heavy and ridiculous after awhile. In fact, carrying too much of it at one time can lead to injury. You can throw your back out in the name of posterity. But what about now? What do I need now? I need less things. You can have them, if you want. Maybe I’ll have an internet rummage sale. Maybe I’ll put a few boxes out back with a sign that says “YOU CAN HAS!!!” Because seriously, now that I’ve carried it up all of the stairs, I have no need for it. Really, it was just an elaborate workout plan 10 years in the making.

I’ve got a gig coming up on Thursday, August 4th at 9:30pm that I’m pretty excited about. It’s upstairs (see, it’s a theme) at the Lucky Number Grill on Milwaukee (1931 N. Milwaukee, Chicago, Illinois, 60647). I’ll be sharing the evening with Woodrow Hart. I’m telling you, it’s gonna be a beautiful evening. I’ll report back eventually but… wouldn’t you rather see it first hand? I thought so.

Chicago

2 months in. Chicago has been exceedingly good to me. I’ve acquired a beautiful apartment. What it lacks in furniture it makes up for in character, complete with two flights of bright purple stairs and a rockin’ 80s bathroom with a black scallop shell sink. We call it the Plywood Palace. With the heatwave and the empty space, we could easily host Bikram hot yoga classes in the living room. I had a few gigs in May, my first musical appearances in the great Midwest. All were excellent. But since then, I’ve been a little… distracted. Here I am in a new city, in a new neighborhood, in a new apartment with a new job. I had to set up a new website and I’ve got this new album to promote, in addition to taking on a new instrument. Plate’s been pretty full, and I still haven’t bought a couch. Yes, I have some “floor pillows”… or perhaps you’d care to join me for a glass of merlot while perched upon an excercise ball.

Now entering Phase 2 of Chicago, wherein I know where to get a good cup of coffee in the neighborhood and can play more than 3 chords on the banjo… and own a couch.* Of course, we’ll have to carry it up the purple stairs first.

*If you would like to donate to Laura’s Couch Fund, please visit the store page.