Community Songwriting

It's been a long time since I've posted here. I've been taking a sabbatical this summer, concentrating on community events, the Pennybrook Festival, setting up my tiny house, and writing about that and other life experiences on my personal blog.

It's been good to have a break. And then, this week, I had a noteworthy songwriting experience that I feel like sharing.

A few weeks ago, I was invited by my friend, Leif Helmer, to sing a song at the launch of the Petite Riviere Community Park. Petite Riviere is just five minutes down the road from West Dublin, where I live. There are a number of songs that I've written about our area that I could have sung at this event.

But, about two days ago, I had the idea that I should write a song specifically for this event, a song about the Petite River and about the park and the community there.

I felt that I didn't know enough to write that song, so, I went on Facebook and invited people to share their stories about the river. I was given a bounty of experiences, memories and perceptions. I felt very blessed to be trusted with people's thoughts and feelings about their home. Several people said, the river is my backyard.

I did my best to capture many of the ways that people interact with the river and the animals who live in and around it. Of course, I had to leave out a bunch of things! The amount of information I received would have filled a 45-minute saga! I felt it was better to go for a more typical four-to-five minute song.

It was a little nerve-wracking to perform such a new song, but I was pleased with the way it had turned out and felt honoured to have the chance to share it. And I was very pleased to hear from many of the people at the opening ceremonies that they were moved to tears and laughter. That's my favourite part of being a songwriter and it was an additional pleasure today to help celebrate the hard work of all the people who helped to create a new park in our community.

Bravo, everyone! Thank you for inviting me to help mark this event!

Spring Shows: Rose & Kettle and West Dublin Hall

This spring, I'm performing at my two favourite Nova Scotian venues.

I'll be performing on Thursday, April 10 at the Rose and Kettle Tea Room at the Cole Harbour Heritage Farm Museum (471 Poplar Dr, Cole Harbour, NS B2W 4L2). I'm looking forward to this immensely and I'm excited to be sharing the stage with Shawna Caspi.

Next, I'm performing Saturday, April 26, 8pm at the West Dublin Hall: an unplugged and uncensored evening of music to raise funds for some solar panels to install at my new tiny home. The WDH is at 10 Huey Lake Road, West Dublin, NS. Doors open at 7:30; show starts promptly.

After these two shows, I'll be taking a sabbatical for an undetermined length of time.

Inside Llewyn Davis OR The Tragic Story of the Misunderstood Folk Musician

PLEASE NOTE: In the discussion of the content of the film Inside Llewyn Davis, this blog post contains SPOILERS.

I went to see Inside Llewyn Davis last week at the Oxford Theatre in Halifax; an old school theatre without stadium seating and with a balcony (my fellow and I sat in the balcony).

For those of you who haven't heard of this film, it is a Coen Brothers film. For those of you who haven't heard of the Coen Brothers, Joel and Ethan Coen, I recommend you look them up and watch a few of their finest: Miller's Crossing, Fargo, The Big Lebowski, O Brother Where Art Thou.

The Coen Brothers excel at making movies about people going on quests, about people searching for something, a MacGuffin, often with unexpected results. As the blind prophet says in O Brother Where Art Thou: "The treasure you seek shall not be the treasure you find."

In Inside Llewyn Davis, I couldn't decide if Llewyn Davis was seeking success, or seeking to gain the love or admiration of another human being. I think he ultimately fails at both quests and at the end of the movie, he has given up in despair and is looking forward to a lifetime of drudgery and a lonely, miserable death.

Watching this movie was an intense experience for me.

You see, Llewyn Davis is a folksinger. As the film follows him through a week in 1961 in Greenwich Village, with a detour to Chicago, we see him fail to connect with Jean, a woman he has impregnated, with a cat, some fans, his friends, his sister, another cat and his fellow musicians.

He fails to connect with them in a variety of ways, through cynicism, neglect, rage, contempt, crudeness, selfishness, abandonment and insult.

The only thing he seems to do right is sing and play. Yet he fails to find success as a musician, too. He plays to enthusiastic applause at the Gaslight, but he gets no money or respect from his world-weary, disinterested music publisher/agent. When he auditions for a club owner in Chicago, the response is: "I don't see any money here." When he's invited to play at a session, where his contempt for the bubble-gummy song he must play and sing oozes from his every pore, he takes the quick cash as a session player rather than go through his publisher for a piece of the royalties. He needs the money right away to pay for the abortion Jean is demanding.

All of this misery and failure rests on something that happened before the movie opens: the suicide of Llewyn's former musical partner, Mike, who jumped off the George Washington bridge. Did he jump, I couldn't help but wonder, because he couldn't bear to spend another day in the company of Llewyn Davis?

And, at the same time, Llewyn is somehow a sympathetic character. I identified with him and felt for him. He sang with his whole heart and had a beautiful voice and fine skills on the guitar. But he was missing the diplomatic skills one needs to succeed in The Business. I could relate to that.

The final scene at the Gaslight shows musicians who are obviously meant to be The Clancy Brothers & Tommy Makem and Bob Dylan, musicians who went on to be stars of the 60s folk revival. Llewyn goes on to get punched in the face in the alley behind the Gaslight and to sit there, staring into his future of shipping out as a merchant marine.

I can't help but think that Llewyn's main problem was that he seemed to think that he was the only folksinger in the world who was sincere and singing from the heart. He didn't realize that many of the people around him were equally earnest and equally worthy as humans.

Essentially, Llewyn was embittered by the lack of recognition and love in his life.

I came away from the movie feeling that I never want that to happen to me. I offer up this plea now: "May I never be bitter and always accept with equanimity the amount of recognition I do or do not receive in this world." And "Please may I always remember that I'll take connection, love and kindness over recognition every single time".

PS: Just a word to say that while I loved this film, I was very away of how it totally failed the Bechdel Test. Perhaps that was intentional, reflectly the misogynist time and culture in which it is set. One scene that particularly stuck out to me is the scene where Llewyn is talking with the slimy owner of The Gaslight. This guy reveals that he has slept with Jean. "If you want to play at the Gaslight..." he says. Though presumably that only applies to women. No wonder Jean is so angry and hostile. She lives in a world that makes her do something disgusting to receive the same privilege that a man can get just by playing and singing half-decently.

Lunenburg Folk Harbour's First Songwriting Camp

It's been an intense few days. Wow.

Co-facilitating the first ever Folk Harbour Songwriting Camp with Kev Corbett was a full-on three days of heart and craft. In trying to teach some young folks how to find out what they had to say and how to say it well in a song, I learned a ton. I learned a ton from our participants. I also learned a ton from Kev, who's a stellar musician.

We went over structure and lyric-writing technique. We listened to songs by masters of the craft. We worked on figuring out guitars and PAs and our voices. We were lucky enough to have visits from David Myles and Rose Cousins, who shared some of their songwriting secrets and gave feedback on some of our participants' tunes.

And we wrote. It was a jam-packed few days.

I think the most poignant moment for me was toward the end of the third day, when I shared this quote with the camp:

“Singers and Musicians are some of the most driven, courageous people on the face of the earth. They deal with more day-to-day rejection in one year than most people do in a lifetime. Every day, they face the financial challenge of living a freelance lifestyle, the disrespect of people who think they should get real jobs, and their own fear that they’ll never work again. Every day, they have to ignore the possibility that the vision they have dedicated their lives to is a pipe dream. With every note, they stretch themselves, emotionally and physically, risking criticism and judgment. With every passing year, many of them watch as the other people their age achieve the predictable milestones of normal life – the car, the family, the house, the nest egg. Why? Because musicians and singers are willing to give their entire lives to a moment – to that melody, that lyric, that chord, or that interpretation that will stir the audience’s soul. Singers and Musicians are beings who have tasted life’s nectar in that crystal moment when they poured out their creative spirit and touched another’s heart. In that instant, they were as close to magic, God, and perfection as anyone could ever be. And in their own hearts, they know that to dedicate oneself to that moment is worth a thousand lifetimes.”
– David Ackert, LA Times

That's why we do what we do. It was an honour to help our young participants more fully join the ranks of the world's brave songwriters.

The Listener's Power

I love the film Topsy Turvy, by Mike Leigh. It's about Gilbert & Sullivan and their creation of the Mikado. In the lead-up to Gilbert finding the subject matter for the Mikado, the cast of the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company are struggling through a summer run of the ailing Princess Ida in the middle of a London heat wave. Two of the male leads chat in their dressing room after a particularly hot performance:

Mr. Temple: My voice, my voice. I've strained my voice. I've been trying too hard. The smaller the house, the greater the effort. I'm very cross with myself. I should know better. One is knocking one's pipes out in a vain attempt to elicit a response from three colonial bishops, two elderly ladies and an intoxicated costermonger! They're all roasting their own lard like the Christmas goose!

Mr. Lely: Yes, and the costermonger left at the interval.

Mr. Temple: Did he?

Mr. Lely: Mmm.

Mr. Temple: A man of infinite taste, clearly.

No matter how many times I see this film, I always get a kick out of this exchange between two artists commiserating over their failure to reach their audience.

What happens when no one listens?

I recently played a benefit gig where I was asked to sing a few songs between courses at a dinner. The room was small, the organizers assured me, and there would be no need for a sound system.

What they did not take into consideration was that there would not be a listening audience.

It's an awkward thing when one has been asked to sing, but the audience is not interested in listening. I had a number of friends in the audience who backed me up with shushing, clapping and cheers, and I have plenty of experience playing in bars and restaurants where no one wants to listen, but it was still all I could do to fight my way through a handful of songs - especially since I was unplugged and recovering from a cold.

The audience has the power to co-create each performance – or not

Do you ever think about that when you go out to hear live music, or a play, or a poetry reading? Or perhaps you have gone out to dinner, only to discover that it's open mic night at the local bistro. By listening intently and meaningfully, the audience expands their experience of the performer(s). If you try to tune into it, you'll start to feel the connection between the performer and yourself, yourself and the rest of the audience. There is a magic to it; a magic that blesses the best shows.

I've had this experience countless times, both as a performer and as an audience member. I love to listen as much as I love to sing and I go to performances of all kinds with my heart wide open. I love to feel that I am part of a shared experience with everyone in the room, performer and audience alike. I see it as an opportunity for communion.

A couple of examples leap to mind

Many years ago, in my early 20s, I had the opportunity to hear Dr. Bernie Siegel, the oncologist and writer, speak at a conference. Years later, that talk is still seared into my mind. I felt as if he were speaking only to me, while at the same time knowing that almost everyone in the room must be feeling the same way.

More recently, I went to see Hawksley Workman perform at Massey Hall. Hawksley had a cold and was well dosed with cough drops and Sudafed. Half way through the show, the amplification cut out. Hawksely and his band continued playing, unplugged. Everyone in that sold-out audience was absolutely silent, to catch the sweetness of their fragility and courage. I was weeping and I bet a lot of other people were too. When the audience joined in on the chorus, there was an unforgettable sense of oneness. We were with Hawksley and with one another. Brave and defiant and gentle, undeterred by germs or mechanical failure.

This sense of communion is one of the reasons I love music shows at the West Dublin Hall. In addition to the ambiance and acoustics, the people who come to hear shows there really know how to be an audience. They come with their hearts and ears open. They know that there will be plenty of time to chat at the break and during the sets they listen, laugh, think, love and sometimes cry.

How to get the most out of every live performance experience

The next time you are out at a play, concert, poetry reading or talk, imagine that the performer is one of your best friends, about to tell you a treasured secret. Open your heart to receive and cherish what they have to say. Or, at the very least, imagine yourself in the performer's shoes and show respect for their courage in the same measure that you would like them to show it to you if your roles were reversed. I guarantee that you will hear interesting things that you would not otherwise hear.

It could change your life.

It has changed mine.

PS: The next times to participate in the magic at the West Dublin Hall are July 5, 2013, 8pm: Pennybrook's Tour and CD Launch and July 13, 2013, 8pm: Dana Beeler and Jordan Cameron.
E-mail me to reserve advanced tickets: mail[at]alexsings[dot]ca.

Alex Hickey is a Nova Scotian singer-songwriter and champion audience member. Her Web site is www.alexsings.ca. 

The green-eyed monster

Envy.

It's been rearing its ugly head a lot over here, recently.

I'm envious of other people's accomplishments, even in the face of my own. How come that person gets to be younger, prettier, more talented? Gets to open for so-and-so, be the darling of that promoter or this radio station and just plain gets more attention than I do. 

It makes me want to sit in a corner and sulk. 

Western culture is bizarre about competition. We're obsessed with winning and achieving things. We teach kids in school to work hard for marks and to care about the hierarchy - who's smarter than whom, who's winning?

I was an academic whiz in school, so I got used to winning that race early on. I had my share of people who were mean to me because they resented my position in the academic hierarchy. You'd think that would have shown me the dark side of envy and made me less prone to it. But, I guess it didn't.

Envy especially seems to thrive because we're not supposed to talk about it. One of my favourite songs is about envy - My Cousin has a Grey Cup Ring by Donovan Woods. 

All the things I want in life  

He's got a car, and a beard and a wife 

He's not jealous of the way I sing 

But I'm jealous of his Grey Cup Ring

I love Donovan's light touch with how we often long for what we don't have. When I envy the young kids in my business with their energy and talent, do I really long to be twenty-five again? No, I wouldn't relive my twenties for all the gold in the Canadian North. My 20s sucked.

I find being kind to myself helps alleviate envy.

The external world might be all about winning and losing, but my internal world doesn't need to be.

Competition kills creativity. 

I heard Jamie Ridler interview Brené Brown once and that's what Brené said. And if you can't trust Brené Brown, who can you trust? 

Remembering to be grateful for what I have takes the focus off other people. Remembering to celebrate other people's accomplishments and be genuinely happy for them is important. And remembering that they are them and I am me is the most important. 

Nobody can be better at being me than me. 

And all I truly want is to be authentically myself, wherever that "gets me" in the exterior world.

Do you ever feel jealous - of colleagues, friends, even family? What sets off your green-eyed monster and how do you calm it down?

End of Month Review #2: February 27 poetry reading by George Elliot Clarke

Last night I went to hear George Elliot Clarke read poetry.

To be honest, I was only mildly interested in going. I'd read Clarke's book, George and Rue, and had loved it. But that was my only experience with his work, so I actually thought I was going to a prose reading.

Clarke opened with a seemingly random speech about how students in Quebec are protesting tuition hikes because they are the last students with any oomph left in them because they have been the least crushed by debt. And they sensibly want to stay that way. From the freedom of the sixties, GEC explained that there has been a concerted effort to use financial burdens to encourage students to toe the line. Clarke called for students and retirees to seize their relative financial freedom and be a force for change in the world.

Though unexpected, this speech set the tone perfectly for an evening of poetry that was revolutionary, joyous, free original and sexy.

Not knowing what to expect, I was quickly lost in Clarke's world of words and his rhythmic, impassioned delivery. By turns scholarly and earthy, and sometimes both together, my brain and libido both got a good workout.

My favorite moment came when a member of the audience asked if GEC had any advice for writers and aspiring writers. "Find your own voice," he replied emphatically. And went on to explain that even when that hurts the writer, or people around the writer, there is only one choice to make about speaking the truth.

Inspiring. Fascinating. Illuminating.

***George Elliott Clarke has written numerous books of poetry. Last night he read from three of those volumes: Red, Blue and Black.***

2012 Retrospective

What a year it's been.

I love this time of year. Looking back over the past. Looking forward to the future.

I love resolutions and plans. And every year I get better at taking time to absorb and appreciate the good things that have happened, as well as the lessons I've learned.

This year was full of happy shows and fun times visiting with friends, new and old(er) in the Nova Scotia music business.

Some of the most special shows were in intimate settings, like Fables in Tatamagouche. I played a show there in February for Freedom to Read Week, where I challenged myself to fight off my inner censor and sing some of the songs that scare me. I was really nervous, but the warm crowd at Fables cheered me on.

I also played for the first time at Cove Music in Sandy Cove, NS. I had never been to that part of the province before and was moved by the friendliness of my hosts and the beauty of the spot. I can hardly wait to go back when I have enough to time to continue on down Digby Neck to Brier Island.

I had a great time playing at the LaHave Folk Festival and helping to organize the Pennybrook Folk Festival. At Pennybrook Festival, I heard one of the greatest things I've ever heard: Adam Iredale-Gray of Fish & Bird playing a fiddle-to-cockadoodle-doo-et with Pennybrook Farm's rooster.

I also played some truly awful gigs this year. If I learned anything, finally, it's that I'd rather play fewer shows than pad out my schedule with gigs at restaurants where the audience is talking loudly over me and the staff wouldn't dream of asking them to take it down – just by 30 or 40 decibels to let the people who want to listen do so. I've had enough of that to last a life-time.

No, it's listening audiences for me!

Like the beautiful audience of over 90 people who packed out the hall in West Dublin for my CD launch show. We had a full band on stage with me, Jude Pelley, Jordi Comstock, Jim Bell and Liam Finney. My beautiful friends and neighbours, Pennybrook, opened the show. We had a whizz-bang celebration to launch Blackbirds, my 3rd CD, that had started months before at The Old Confidence Lodge in Riverport. People are still talking about that show.

I'm looking forward to giving people more things to talk about in 2013. What about you? What are your magical moments from 2012?

Local and Sustainable Holiday Shopping Ideas

I am not really a fan of Christmas. I'm not a Christian and the holiday doesn't hold much meaning for me. I'd rather give someone a present on a random Tuesday and share greetings and good times throughout the year than try to pack it all in to one hymn-laden, over-scheduled month.

I'm not a total Grinch or anything. I still believe in getting presents for kids and letting them experience the magic of Santa Claus and all that. I like having a big meal with loved ones, singing a few carols and watching the 1951 version of Scrooge (A Christmas Carol) with the brilliant Alastair "I-don't-deserve-to-be-so-happy!" Sim.

But I'm perfectly happy not to get any presents.

However, I know not everyone chooses to opt out of the season to the extent I do. And if you are shopping around for holiday treats, I happen to have some great local, indie and/or sustainable gift ideas, in Nova Scotia, in Toronto, and, as things go these days, online, too.

Nova Scotia/online:

1. My new record Blackbirds, of course. It's available for sale at The Biscuit Eater Cafe and Bookstore in Mahone Bay, The Power House Gallery in Lunenburg and this Saturday only, from 1-6pm at the Holiday Artist's Market that is taking place at the Lunenburg Cultural Centre (I'll also be playing music there, swapping sets with brilliant finger-style guitarist Bob Ardern). It's also available online, shipping physical copies from Canada (i.e. my house) through Bandcamp, from the US through CDBaby, and digital copies through those two - and through iTunes (did you know you can gift music through iTunes? You just need to know the e-mail address the recipient uses for their iTunes account.)
2. My Mom, Janet Barkhouse's picture book version of my Nana's novel, Pit Pony. (Mom will be reading and signing books at The Biscuit Eater Cafe and Bookstore in Mahone Bay this Sunday, December 2).
   
3. My cousin Nancy's awesome handbags. Check 'em out here at NPK designs on Facebook:
   
4. Art from Power House Gallery in Lunenburg, especially art by Lynn Misner, the genius artist who painted, "The Caretaker", the piece that graces the cover of my new CD:
   
5. The Ark (655 King Street, Bridgewater): a great place to buy gifts and support a community of physically and mentally challenged adults at the same time. I love the things made by the folks at The Ark, especially their handcrafted rugs, cushions and woodworking. 

Toronto/online:

1. Firefly Creative writing's on-site and on-line writing workshops, especially The Blog Shop, a weekend on-line workshop for aspiring and stuck bloggers.
2. A Nia Dance Party with Jenn Hicks. Fun, uplifting, good times dancing with your friends.
3. Creativity coaching with Danette Relic at The Radical Creative Sanctuary.
4. Life coaching from Jamie Ridler. And, while you're there shopping, make sure to sign up for Jamie's motivating free newsletter yourself.

Online:

1. Reflections: an inspiration journal from Paper Bag Press: an art journal to inspire artistic creativity.
2. Feeling a little frisky? For those intimate friends, how about something from Kim at Ecosex.ca?

Oh, so many wonderful ideas—gifts you can feel good about giving and that your recipients will love!

Happy holidays!

Starving Artist? It's all relative

It's seven degrees Celsius today in West Dublin, NS. A beautiful day! So nice that I ate my lunch sitting on the back stoop and this afternoon I'm going to tackle the wood pile. I can't help but think that six weeks ago, a seven degree day was freezing! And now, it's a warm day.

I've been thinking about that in terms of money, too. I think we're all prone, and maybe artists more than some, to thinking that we're poor. Tight of funds. Struggling to get by. The image of the Starving Artist looms large. Artists pour a lot of time, energy and money into doing what we love. And then we feel strapped for cash. Crossing our fingers that just one more person will buy our new record (hint, hint) on Bandcamp and we'll be able to pay rent the next month.

But, I'm giving myself a wake-up and a shake-up. I am not poor. I am warm, properly fed and live in the most beautiful place in the world. My rent is pretty cheap and there are six cords of wood out back, just waiting to be stacked.

To find true poverty, I don't have to look very far. In the midst of our affluent nation, there are people living in construction trailers which were never meant to be residences. There are people struggling for the bare necessities.

I was reminded of that this week, when my friend Todd invited me to Share Something Day, an event that he is organizing through his 500 Kindnesses project on November 23, 2012. On the same day as Black Friday and Buy Nothing Day, Todd is inviting people to simply share something of their choice either with friends or strangers.

It happens that I have a show on Friday, November 23. I'll be singing and playing at The Biscuit Eater Cafe and Bookstore. I had a show at the Biscuit Eater last November, too, right around the time that the news about Attawapiskat was hitting its peak (remember Attawapiskat? You can find updates on how they're doing now on their web site). Last year, I donated all sales of merchandise from The Biscuit Eater show to Shannen's Dream, a charity that is working for the people of Attawapiskat. And I'm going to do the same thing this year. So, please come on out and pick up a copy of my new CD. Or a T-shirt. Or an old CD. If you can't make it to the show, consider giving to a charity of your choice, just because you can.

To heck with feeling poor, I say. It's a crazy way to feel when I was born into a level of privilege and comfort that much of the world only dreams of.

Starving Artist? It's all relative.

What a magical night!

Wow. I am still a little breathless after the beautiful show we had here in West Dublin this past Saturday night (September 22, 2012) to launch the new CD, Blackbirds.

A packed house: photo courtesy of Katy Hopkins of The Picture House.

We packed the old hall out and made the rafters ring. There were friends, neighbours and family galore, we sold heaps of cds (if you couldn't be there, you can get yours at Bandcamp or CDBaby), and received kudos from one and all. We brought our community together to hear songs about right here - songs written on the beaches, on the ferry, along the river road. There were also songs about anywhere, any time - an anti-fracking song (Can't Be Rich On Shattered Land) that would work just as well in Colorado or upstate New York, and Moonshine and Mischief which is as timeless and placeless a love song as I've ever written.

The band was smoking hot: Jude Pelley played lead guitar, Jordi Comstock was on drums, Jim Bell on bass and Liam Finney on banjo and mandolin. Our opening act was Pennybrook: Jude Pelley and Charlie Wilson playing and singing their fascinating original tunes and a few old-time covers. 

Charlie helped decorate the hall (including the brilliant idea of having blackbirds fly out of the poster), Shelah Allen of Lunenburg Town Walking Tours kindly staffed the door and merch table, my parents did a million amazing, wonderful things, my mom and her friend Cynthia made cookies, the Little River Folk Society helped sponsor our amazing sound man, Art Eaton and Mike Western, of Free Range Designs, made this gorgeous show poster. 

Of course, the CD itself uses a painting as the cover art: "The Caretaker" by Lynn Misner of the Power House Gallery in Lunenburg. Lynn and her 129 Lincoln compatriot, Steve Welsh (who's also my housemate) of Steve's Art Supply kindly donated decorating supplies for the occasion. 

It was a tremendous group effort and I feel very, very grateful to be surrounded by such love and support. Thanks to everyone who came. You made every bit of work feel totally worth it!

You can always live on rice and potatoes...

...but sadly, you can't have a kickin' CD recorded for rice and potatoes.

If you could, I would. I'd establish my own little rice paddy here on the west bank of the LaHave River, add in the spuds I grew in the barrels out back last summer, and I'd be all set.

But it doesn't work that way.

So, I'm asking for your help.

I'm looking to record my third CD in April. I have a bunch of amazing songs, I'm looking to put together a brilliant band, and the album is guaranteed to be emotionally gripping, thought-provoking and very, very listenable. It's going to be the kind of cd you're going to want to sing along with when you're cooking at home, out for a walk, in the car, on the bus, or enjoying a quiet evening alone or with friends. You'll hum the songs on your bike, around the office, walking down the street. These songs will fill your heart and soul and make you long for something you ain't quite found yet, or maybe something you had and lost and are working to regain, or maybe something you know you have and celebrate every single day.

David Francey often jokes about the "lucrative world of Canadian Folk Music". Sometimes, it doesn't seem like there's a living to be made here. I certainly haven't been able to pay myself a cent for the time and energy I put in in the studio on my first two CDs. Everyone else got paid, but I worked for free.

Fortunately, as Old Man Luedecke says, I can always live on rice and potatoes.

But I simply can't make this next album without you.

Please, if one of my songs has ever made you smile or laugh or cry or sing or dance, pre-purchase my third CD by going to Kapipal.com/alexsings. (If you don't feel comfortable making an on-line donation, contact me by e-mail and we'll work something else out.)

And thank you very, very much.

P.S. If after reading this, you are craving listening to Old Man Luedecke's awesome song, I Quit My Job, here's a link.

Buy More Buddhas Video Project - The VIDEO!

Here it is!!! I hope you'll enjoy it. After you watch, please check out my post thanking all the photographers who contributed to this crowd-sourced beauty.

Virtual Creative Marathon - December 30, 2011

Well, folks, with the Buy More Buddhas video project well underway, it feels like high time for another creative marathon! My songwriting output has been a little slim lately and I feel some songs bursting to escape! Feel welcome to join me on December 30, 2011.  There will be an optional Skype conference call at 8:30 AST to share work if you would like (for more info about how to Skype in, contact me directly at mail[at]alexsings[dot]ca).

I know it's been a while since I invited y'all to marathon with me. If you want more info about how the creative marathons work, check my June 2010 post here.

Here's hoping Friday will be a super-creative day for everyone!

Buy More Buddhas Video Project

Over the holidays, I'm going to put together a video for my song, Buy More Buddhas featuring photos of Buddhas sent to me by friends and fans. I've already received dozens of photos! Thanks to everyone who has sent one - or more!

I'm drawing a line in the sand - December 21st - that's when I'm going to start putting the video together. Please send me any and all Buddha photos you can by the 21st! You can e-mail them to me at mail[at]alexsings[dot]ca, tweet them to me here, or post them on my Facebook musician page. Thanks!

Here are examples of some of the pics I've received so far. Keep 'em coming!

Winter Shows

I have some great shows coming up in the next few months. I'd love for you to join me for some laughter and/or tears at any (or all) of these dates:

UPDATED DECEMBER 29, 2011 - PLEASE NOTE THE CHANGES - THERE WILL BE NO SHOW AT THE SCUTTLEBUTT RESTAURANT ON FEBRUARY 4, 2012! INSTEAD, I WILL BE AT THE NIGHT KITCHEN IN WOLFVILLE THAT NIGHT!

Friday, November 25, 7–9pm
The Biscuit Eater
16 Orchard Street
Mahone Bay
www.biscuiteater.ca
In keeping with the poetic and uncensored spirit of the Biscuit Eater, I'll be bringing out some rarely-performed "B-sides". It's going to be a fun, and possibly controversial, evening. (I'll have CDs and T-shirts for sale at special prices if you're looking for Christmas shopping opportunities).

Friday, January 6, 6-8pm
Scuttlebutt Restaurant
Lunenburg, NS
Scuttlebutt on Facebook
A triumphant return to Scuttlebutt Restaurant after a few months' hiatus. I can already taste that smoked salmon club sandwich!

Saturday, January 28, 7:30–9:30pm
Trellis Café
Hubbards, NS
www.trelliscafe.com
My very first appearance at the renowned Trellis Café. I'm looking forward to it!

Saturday, February 4
The Night Kitchen
The Al Whittle Theatre
Wolfville, NS
I'm very excited to be part of Andy and Ariana's famous Night Kitchen.

Saturday, February 4, 6–8pm
Scuttlebutt Restaurant
Lunenburg, NS
Scuttlebutt on Facebook
A triumphant return to Scuttlebutt Restaurant after a few months' hiatus. I can already taste that smoked salmon club sandwich!

Thursday, February 9, 6-8pm
Lunenburg Sessions
@ Scuttlebutt Restaurant
Lunenburg, NS
Lunenburg Sessions on Facebook
Delighted to be a part of Lunenburg Sessions 2012 Concert Series Schedule!

Friday, February 24, TBA
Fables
Tatamagouche, NS
www.fablesclub.com
I'm honoured to be part of Fables' Freedom to Read Week Celebrations. Events all day; details TBA.

Saturday, March 31, 6-8pm
Scuttlebutt Restaurant
Lunenburg, NS
Scuttlebutt on Facebook
Another yummy dinner and song event at the Scuttlebutt Restaurant!

Lunenburg Folk Harbour Festival

Tomorrow I perform at Lunenburg Folk Harbour Festival. For me, this is The Big Gig.

You see, I think of Folk Harbour as my home festival. I attended (as a member of the audience) for the first time in 1987. Yep, 24 years ago. I was 16, and the festival was just two years old.

I bet most of the other teenagers there had been dragged by their parents, kicking and screaming, but not me. Archie Fisher and Garnet Rogers were headlining and I could hardly wait to see them perform.

My friend Steve and I went together. I remember sitting under the mainstage tent being treated to the finest folk music imaginable - less than half an hour's drive from where each of us lived. What I remember most clearly is a feeling of enchantment – especially when Archie and Garnet played Witch of the Westmoreland, fulfilling my greatest hope for the evening.

There have been other Folk Harbour experiences since that one. After I moved away to Toronto, I tried to plan my summer visits to co-incide with the festival, and I've heard some great music on that mainstage, but my first night at Folk Harbour remains the most special.

On that night in 1987, I had absolutely no idea that I was going to become a singer-songwriter when I grew up. More than 20 years later, I released my first cd and one of the first places I sent it was to Folk Harbour's programming committee. Tomorrow, with the same stars in my eyes that were there when I was 16, I'll step up on that mainstage and sing my heart out.

I can hardly wait.

More details for those of you coming to the festival:
I'll be playing on three stages tomorrow (Friday, August 5):
1pm in St. John's Anglican church as part of a blues workshop with David Myles, Thom Swift and Harry Manx
4pm at the Bandstand - a half hour solo set
8:15 (approximately), I'll be on the mainstage for a tweener - just one song - between the 2nd and 3rd mainstage performers

Cool Down Without Powering Up

A couple of weeks ago, I received my first songwriting commission: to write a song encouraging people to stay cool without turning on their air conditioning. A tall order to fill, especially since the client, Hypenotic, was in Toronto and Toronto was in the midst a major heat wave!

Out here Nova Scotia's gloriously temperate South Shore, I took the four cool down techniques Hypenotic had given me and wrote them into a song. Then, I went to Kirk Comstock at Comstock Recording Studios and we recorded it.

Next, the folks at Hypenotic created an animated video to go with the song. Here's the finished product. I hope you enjoy it and use some of these methods to conserve energy during the summer heat.

Meet the Press

I woke up this morning to a bunch of nice messages from several people who'd just read an article about me in our local newspaper.

And, I've also heard some great feedback from folks who heard me interviewed on CKBW this past Sunday morning.

I just want to say how good it feels to be living in a community where people take the time to celebrate local people, their talents and accomplishments.

It's good to be back home.

This one time, at band camp...

That line from American Pie has always made me laugh. I actually went to band camp once as a kid - the summer after Grade 8. My best friend and I went together and I remember that we had a giggly, silly week, just as one would expect from a couple of young-for-our-age 14-year-old sci-fi-obsessed band geeks. I don't remember anything that I learned that week about how to play the clarinet. I do remember an awkward, crushy bout of hand-holding with the son of my orthodontist (of all people). And that it didn't end well.

By the next summer, my best friend had moved away and instead of summer camp, I had a summer job. Twenty-six years later, I have two full-time jobs, but I somehow managed to finally make it back to music camp. This time, it was the Road to Stanfest Songwriters' Workshop in Sherbrooke Village. It takes place every year in the week leading up to Stanfest and I had heard about it for the first time three years ago from Susan Crowe while we were preparing for a benefit for the Writer's Federation of Nova Scotia. This year, I heard about it again from my friend, Dolores Dagenais, when she announced she was going and urged me to come, too. And then I heard about it yet again, talking with Clary Croft after his show at the Desbrisay Museum this spring.

Susan and Clary are what you might call Resident Instructors at the camp and this year they were joined by Craig Werth, David Francey and James Keelaghan. I looked at this roster, and then at the enrolment fees and then at the roster and then at the enrolment fees and then at my bank balance and then at the roster and then I said, "What the hell," and called up to enrol, even though it was an unwise decision from a financial perspective. It was also a last-minute decision, a snap decision and without question the best decision I've made so far this year.

For a songwriter and musician, there can be little better than having four days almost entirely devoted to making music, with a group of people who passionately love singing, playing and writing songs. Add in that some of those people happened the be among the best singer-songwriters alive today, who brought hearts full of encouragement and kindness, and it was a recipe for a week that was fully-alive, delightful and jam-packed with opportunities to learn, to write and to celebrate.

I learned so much. I wrote new songs and re-wrote old ones. I learned a few tricks and practiced making them work. Each instructor brought different knowledge and experiences. Clary's sessions called on me to remember my roots and use the music I grew up with (traditional folk and Broadway) as object lessons in how to create strong songs. Susan underscored the importance of being meticulous with words, of working hard to make sure they're right. Susan and Craig both inspired me to work harder on my guitar-playing, to use instrumentation to enhance the impact of my songs. James' lessons revolutionized my understanding of song structure and gave me a whole new framework for how to write. He also set a high standard for professionalism in performance. David encouraged me to trust my intuition and my muse and reminded me of the importance of simplicity and clarity when creating lyrics and melodies. And Craig reinforced for me the importance of holding an open and lively heart and of writing and performing songs that have meaning—both personally and in broader contexts.

And those were just some of the formal lessons—there were also song circles every night when participants and instructors alike shone through their songs and after-hours jam sessions that were just plain fun. The energy raised up by people singing together is one of the great gifts of our human experience. And singing with people who understand that, people who love and live music, who love to sing, who love songs, well, that is an inspiration as well as a treat.

Those four days pretty much had it all: an interesting setting, kind and enthusiastic staff throughout Sherbrooke Village, amazing instructors, fun and interesting colleagues—and Dolores' wicked homemade wine. I'm looking forward to sharing the songs I wrote and re-wrote. You will hear some of them at the Growing Green Sustainability Festival this Saturday and more when I play at the Lunenburg Folk Harbour Festival on Friday, August 5. (And, as soon as I have time I'll post some on my YouTube channel).