The Felice Brothers: The Last American Act

So I'm in Nashville for a long weekend and one of the main reasons for visiting is catching The Felice Brothers with my brother's girlfriend. Of course it's the night of the day I arrive and although the car ride is a breeze, just 3.5 hours from Atlanta, we go on this extensive bike ride, checking out East Nashville and cruising around the neighborhood. Nashville is known for music, and surprisingly, not all country music. The Felice Brothers hail from upstate New York but certainly exert a Southern, folkish-Bob Dylan-esque fiddle and guitar musical style. They grabbed the honky tonk flavor of Nashville by the horns and blew the crowd away with pleasers like Whiskey In My Whiskey, Frankie's Gun and Run Chicken Run. The quartet, the 3 Felice brothers, Ian, lead singer, James, piano and Simone, drums are accompanied by bassist, Christmas, a childhood friend and every now and then they add on an extra string man, Farley, a rare oddball who's goofy dance moves are sided by his amazing fiddle playing. Singing about guns, the woods and just old country ways, this band is going to make it far, already touring across the nation this summer, even making a stop in Atlanta tonight at Smith's Olde Bar. I will be going again in lieu of witnessing the last great American act. 

"Well my head is in pain, but I can't complain / Cause my sweetheart waits down the line / And I will be in a house by the sea / Or even if just in my mind.."

- Roll on Arte, Tonight at the Arizona - The Felice Brothers

The Age Of Innocence

Hi Friends,

I'm sorry I've neglected this blog for so long, today is the day to put a stop to it. I guess as far as most of you know, I got a new job at Beacham and Company, a luxury real estate company in Atlanta. Even though it's not quite my most desired job, it is in fact one, and as they say, the grass is always greener, no matter where you are in life. So it's good for now, and I've already learned so much of the "corporate" fascade, I think I can walk away with a good (still moderate, leaning towards liberal) head on my shoulders. 

Today was a great day. After many long and sleepless days and nights working on the Beacham Series, a magazine we produce 3x-year, I decided to take a "work at home" day. What fun it's been! As much as I was supposed to start working at 8am, I laid about in bed till 10, then kicked my feet around a bit, got up, brushed my teeth, then my hair and wrote in my journal until 11 rolled came. Then I had some toast and decided it was time to get dressed for a 12 o'clock appointment later that day. And in the meantime during all these things, I had the chance to catch up with three very special friends who are all in New York City. Each had stories of cold and rain, while I gingerly sat looking out at the green and bright blue sky, noticing Atlanta reaching into the 60s. 

I also got a freelance job today! woo. Woo is one of my favorite words to text. It's easy and it means exactly how you say it. Have you noticed how if you type "woo" on the iphone it always autocorrects it as wool. It's hilarious. For example, "hey cristina! congrats on the job, that's awesome. wool!" Too funny. I've had too many friends comment on my overused context of the word wool. If they ain't got an iphone, they don't know. Anyway, back on the freelance gig - it's for a family friend, but it's actually 2 jobs in one. The first is an ad in a magazine, not so exciting, but the second, I can hardly keep in... my first website coding! I bought a book today on java, titled appropriately, java for dummies. I plan to do my first design this weekend. Needless to say, luckily my client wants a very simple clean navigation, so I hope I will make her happy. Can't wait to get that on my job description too.

Well, as for the rest of my day, one thing's for sure, Gossip Girl SUCKED. For a 3 week hiatus, it was not strong as a comeback at all. But since I'm on the topic, a little bit of Edith Wharton for you to ponder about as the day becomes night... and a little something about my life too.

"Life is always a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope."

- E.W.

The Overnight Shipping Label

Yesterday as I was working diligently at Whimsy Press, placing shipping labels on the brown cardboard boxes and placing them one by one at the foot of the door, I began to wonder who was being naughty this Christmas, and who was being nice. As I surveyed the room, craft paper littering the floor, trash cans piled high with tape and bubble wrap, I realized that although things aren't too great in the world around me, things are merely content in this little station of mine.

Wildfires Turn Atlantans Happy

Oh friends,

It's been too long since I last wrote and part of my very long list of new year resolutions include enjoy writing on my blog at least 3 times a week. There is a truth in the enjoy part, but I will get to that later. Now, we must keep in tune with the headline, as I'm sure some of you are wondering, what wildfire? Well, the wildest fire reached Atlanta last night, just off Memorial Drive in a small concrete building near I-20 southbound. What really happened? It was a wild Saturday night for some of us, war paint smeared across my face and others too, as the night waged on, I saw a total of 9 great bands, all at the tips of my fingers. Sitting on the cold asphalt floor, me and everyone in between rose to our feet and sing in song, full of life and cheer ringing through our teeth till the wee hours of the night. It was a really great night. I haven't had a night like that in a while, a night where I got be see my friends, some of them new, some of them old, but we all smiled at each other and loved every minute of it. Acoustic guitars with black sharpie scribbled on them like it was etched in stone, hoodies and hats, and a whole lot of laughter. It's so amazing how one night can change your whole outlook on a good night. It was one of those things where I didn't even have to try to have fun, I was just emitting it throughout the night. I had the golden touch. I touch you and you are happy, just like me. It's a simple act of giving and sometimes, I just want to bleed it. Not literally, but I want there to be an abundance of joy around me and people just look at me and see that I'm full of energy and excitement and imagination and spontaneity, and that they too can embrace this feeling.

And that reminds me of the good times we need to be sharing. Some people are afraid that when we lose a grip in life, we lose our hearts and our minds. But look at the world around us now, today– things aren't perfect and yet, I am still sitting here reflecting on the fun times I've shared last night with people I've never met before and yet, I call them my friends now. And that's all we can really do. 

"The essence of pleasure is spontaneity."

-Germaine Greer

Change... is on my mind, yes it is...

Today is a day unlike any other. It is election day, though hardly similar to the past years where democrats and republicans have put on their faces and persuaded the masses to vote. This presidential election has been heated battle, caressing those undecided states like newborn babies, never waning to far from the needy. And after two long years, it is finally over. The nit-picking, the SNL skits, and the overall boisterous trails of the presidential campaigns. Tonight, I sit with my friends and family to enjoy the last minute moments of CNN corresponding to the polls and the overall vote. Who will it be? You know my pick... but enjoy the night because things are about to change...

"Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change we seek."

- Barack Obama

Old Trains

Hello Friends,

I'm sorry it's been so long since my last post. Don't be too excited, but I got an internship, it's not a design job, but it's with a great company and I feel very at ease. I'm getting used to my sack lunches and early mornings, as one should once school is finally over for good. The people I work with are smart and fun and really interesting people. But the best thing about the intern is my morning walk. After parking the car in a lot ten minutes away from the office, I have a beautiful stroll along green ivy and old train tracks. Often trains coming roaring by and you can see the old steel wheels grinding into the metal tracks, it's a peaceful morning. Across from the tracks are graffitied abandoned warehouses with broken windows and birds sitting atop, whistling along to the wind. I leisurely walk down some steps, head through a "no trespassing" gate, pass a few buildings here and there, and finally come to the office doors. But there's nothing like, for example, today, such a cool morning, walking along the blue concrete walls and thinking about my day, what it will bring, and life as I know it. 

One train in particular caught my eye, and I couldn't help but stare in amazement. There was all but a little yellow paint left on it, its rust twinkling in the sunlight (end of day) and yet, it carried with it this nostalgic feeling of my childhood. The house I lived in for years growing up, we lived in front of some train tracks and I remember excitedly finding pennies or whatever coins I could scrounge around the house to place them on the warm tracks. My ear sometimes sweeping the against the sturdy grey metal, listening for the far off sound of breaks and metal on metal, the weight of the wheels crushing firmly into the earth. Trains make you wonder about the world. What else is out there besides good ole' Atlanta? Where is this train going and have I been before? In early America, trains were a means of freedom. Hank Williams, a true hobo at heart, envied the conductor, who got to escape from the world, and just ride, ride, ride. Sometimes, I wish I could just hop on a train and let it take me to an unknown beautiful place. Sitting in the boxcar, air in my face, and my worries just blowing away. But then again, if I knew that life, would I dream for the one I have now? One with stability, and friends, and family, and a place to call home? Maybe so. 

And now, something else about trains from another poet's heart... "The trains roared by like projectiles level on the darkness, fuming and burning, making the valley clang with their passage. They were gone, and the lights of the towns and villages glittered in silence..."

- D.H. Lawrence

Cards, Cards, Cards and Vampires

Hi again there,

It's been awhile. I fell off the band wagon yesterday, things got a bit bumpy and I couldn't make it to the computer for even a millisecond. But today, I went to work in the morning (got there early because I finally had a job interview in the afternoon and had to leave early), and am now, back at home getting ready for a fundraiser, but in-between, am finally catching up with you.

I'm sort of a cards kind a girl now. I branded myself with cards and now I'm getting freelance jobs left and right for making cards. It's fun and keeps me busy. Very busy, which is why I can't write long today. But a few friends have been asking about the mysterious greeting cards, so I wanted to let them in on the secret. 

Now for another secret to be questioned, do you believe in vampires? And it's not just vampires but the supernatural and the superheroes? What makes opinions credible? Vampire stories and myths have been around just as long as our history so what makes us so quick on the catch to say or believe they don't exist. Not that I need to know they exist, my world is already scary enough with boogie men, hooded cloaks and the many Jasons of Halloween. But seriously, I'm scared - I can't even walk through my neighbor's haunted house ran by his 12 year old son. But it still makes me wonder -- do they exist? And if so, how do they restrain from piercing right through our pearly white skin whenever we come across their path?

"You are a vampire who never knew what life was until it ran out in a big gush over your lips."

- Anonymous