basement

We have moved into a new home. Where I was living before was the second floor of an old Victorian house, and while it was charming and adorable, there are many reasons why it was such a relief to move: from a heinous downstairs neighbour to the fact that it was getting fairly squished in there with our new baby and all accoutrements. It was the apartment I hurriedly agreed to take when I returned to Toronto from Paris, a time when I knew nothing about what was coming next. The place served a purpose and I was grateful for such a pretty apartment, but suffice to say that I absolutely love our new home and community.

One of the great things about our new place is the basement. It is not very good-looking quite yet, but it soon will be. Down there will be a small studio for me to start my work again. Most of the songs I have been writing lately are of the children's variety of course, singing to my little daughter who claps wildly after each one and warbles along in her wordless, tuneless, lovely way. It's funny because so much has changed since the last time I came back from Paris - I now have a family. It has affected my songwriting, my singing voice, and how I want to share music with people who want to listen.

I like that the new studio will be in the basement, as I feel like I am starting something new, from the bottom, the ground floor.

It's the same as this time last year, Angie...

Someone sent me a video of a song from concert I did in Paris at the wonderful l'Ogre A Plumes, a charming and charismatic downstairs-venue run by actors in the 9e that I am not sure is there anymore.

I like it because the video was shot on the sly, and I think it's cool to have shaky footage from an elegant little concert in a dirty little basement. It's not the best video, but it is still interesting to me in concept more than anything.

The song is "Angie, Say A Prayer", and I am posting it here because it is not really recorded anywhere and people always ask me about that song. Maybe that is why someone whipped out their video camera when I announced that I was going to sing it that night at l'Ogre A Plumes.

"The body is a place where each of us lives..."

Zed Nelson is a UK-based photographer who just released a book of images and text titled "Love Me", examining the impact of the beauty/enhancement industry across the globe and noting that human beings are seemingly striving to a shockingly similar aesthetic, leading to a largely homogenized version of "people". The images in "Love Me" range from a woman with severe anorexia to discarded eyelash extensions, they are memorable and sometimes shocking.


I have been poring over the book all afternoon, mesmerized by photos of a jailhouse beauty pageant winner, a normal-sized 13-year old girl at a weight-loss camp bragging about losing 8 lbs in 10 days, and the gory sheets of skin being lifted by surgeons during a tummy tuck procedure.



The captions beside each image is what really nails the point home - the price we are paying for beauty is becoming, well, priceless. Check out Nelson's website: www.zednelson.com for a full range of the images. Pretty unforgettable.

Have You Heard ...

I do apologize for such a long delay. I had a good reason for my absence (please see pic).

Music takes new shapes on top of the old ones. It changes colour depending on the time of day and how much water I pour on it. A kettle boils, a bath runs, rain trickles in through the bedroom window. The foundation of it stays the same though, and the piano lets me tug out the song it's got livin' inside.