Terami.com Blog

What follows is my list of media amusements from last year. As with all my yearly best lists, these things were not necessarily released (merely discovered) in the last year.

ALBUMS
Aesop Rock - Labor Days
Yes it's hip hop. No, I'm not known for my progressive urban musical tastes. However, this is intelligent, meaningful, creative, and empowering music and I don't care that I "rap" along to it and fudge nearly every other word with my rhythmless enthusiasm. You will, too. It's amazing.

The Blow - Paper Television
Pretty much the soundtrack to the first half of my year. Also, my girl crush on Khaela Maricich is awesome.

Coldplay - Viva la Vida
I know. Massive band. Massive album. But that doesn't mean the music doesn't put shivers down my spine every time I listen.

Greg Laswell - Three Flights from Alto Nido
Alto Nido is a soaring, creative, heartbreaking collection of songs. I loved his previous album, Through Toledo, but incredibly, I love this album more.

Jesca Hoop - Kismet
In her bio, Jesca is described as a three-sided coin.

Yes. She is.

Kings of Leon - Only by the Night
Somehow an album with a single like "Sex on Fire" can also include the amazing song "Be Somebody" without cheapening either tune. This album is a whole lot of fun and has a whole lot of heart.

Muse - Absolution
Gotta admit, their roaring musical swells and bombastic use of the arpeggiator won me over. Unabashed theatrics and musical glee...with amazing chord progressions.

The National - Boxer
Simple, intelligent, emotional, evocative album with depths and layers to it that seemingly never cease to unfold.

SONGS
The Black Ghosts - Full Moon
Black Lab - Mine Again
Fredrik - Black Fur (The link takes you to their album page, not just the song page because the whole album is amazing, but I discovered it on December 30 and since it's not really fair to say that I listened to it in 2008, I decided against including the album on my best album list. But I couldn't NOT include this somewhere and wait a whole year before I tell the world how much I LOVE FREDRIK.)
Jay-Z - Moment of Clarity
Johnny and the Moon - The Ballad of Scarlet Town (Watch the video to hear the song...)
Kerli - Walking on Air
Prefuse 73 - Sabbatical with Options
Stereofix - A Day Without You
Yael Naim - Toxic (Yep, a cover of the Britney Spears song.)

FILMS
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
The King of Kong
Lars and the Real Girl
The Last King of Scotland
Let the Right One In
Slumdog Millionaire
Touching the Void
Young @ Heart

TELEVISION
Carnivale
Dexter (Season 1)

BOOKS
A New Earth, Eckhart Tolle
Let the Right One In, John Ajvide Lindqvist
The Twilight Saga, Stephenie Meyer

* SPECIAL MENTION
Ninja Cat

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If you'd like to read the complete list of ALL things that Filled the Void in 2008, I've archived the list here.

Best of 2007.
Best of 2006.
Best of 2005.
Best of 2004.

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rabbits
cats
chinchillas
Ireland
Galway rain
Galway cobblestone
chimneys
dim lighting
pictures of important moments
wrinkles around Kevin's eyes
tea when it's raining outside
the piano
hand drums
chocolate
warm bread and butter
synchronicity
woodsy flowers
driving on an open road
time travel stories
giving unexpected gifts
traveling in Europe
crepes
speaking French
nocturnes by Chopin
big, rootsy trees
autumn
smell of dirt
riding in trains
shiny bugs
dragonflies
dragons
grasshoppers
straightforwardness
seasons
heating blankets
silver
green velvet
big eyes
possibility
puddles
mirrors
sunlight on cloudy days
cleverness
cottages
turtles
french doors
anticipation
treehouses
warm, sleeping cats
rabbit ears
flashlights
twirling dresses
feeling connected
nursery rhymes
manual cars
converse shoes
ugly boots
Tahitian ocean
motorscooters with Kevin
imagination
laughing
ladybugs
veiny leaves
receiving letters
making lists
discovering new art
ice cream
basslines
curly hair
crying when I'm sad
working at night
taking naps

The sweet bit to note is that the list is titled "100 Things I Love" and apparently I had so much fun with it, I listed 75 additional things. Just because.

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And the work that I've decided to share with the world has been only the surface level of things I believe I am capable of creating. Somewhere in me is an album of music that people will resonate with, something I haven't thought of before. But until then, it's like searching in the dark for an unfamiliar shape.

Ever since I returned from tour, sprained my thumbs, and had my epic breakdown of humiliating proportions, I've been looking for a way to scratch my way back to the surface...to a place where hopefully there will be light. In an attempt to release my burden, the first thing I did after I fell to pieces was to dismantle my studio. Since sometime in September, the only things left standing in this room have been my desk with its computer, a chair to sit on, and a small bookshelf. I had to do it. To clear out the cobwebs. To signal to myself STOP.

So, for the last two months, I have been sitting in an empty room, staring at stripped white walls. I've sorted cabinets, washed countless linoleum floors, read dozens of books, and prayed that some spark of inspiration would snap me back to life. As of today, I am still waiting for the spark. However, I determined that one of the best things I could do to stay busy was to give myself a creative challenge. So I pledged myself to NaNoWriMo this year, for the first time.

What does this mean? This means that for the month of November, I'm setting aside the notion that I'm a musician and songwriter. For this month, I am a novelist; and let me assure you that over the past five days, I've been the most atrocious novelist you'll ever not-read. Because I'm not a writer any more than I am a synchronized swimmer. The sheer force of accepting the challenge to write 50,000 words in thirty days is staggering. In fact, after my first two days of writing, the only thing I can focus on is word count. My characters are thin. My plot is nonsensical. My writing would make my Kindergarten teacher proud, but no one else. Still, I splash in this new challenge like it's the deepest pool I've ever had the luxury of swimming.

It's good to know that in twenty-five days from now, I will have hot proof in my hands (or on my hard drive) of a grand fabrication of my imagination. In the meantime, I will be sloppy, wild, riddled, and reckless for the first time in a long time...creativity without boundaries; permission to make goulash out of words; an exit strategy for musical depression. It's not enough to be an artist without an instrument. I dream of being an artist without a self-critic.

And that should pretty much catch you up to date on how I'm doing. Thumbs are much improved. Improved enough to type like a chatterbox for thirty days straight. Hallelujah.

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My mom seems to think that I was a difficult teenager. Moody. Dramatic. But I beg to differ because really how difficult can you be when the only thing you do is brood? Shut the door, problem solved.

Next, my twenties were a sea of numbness and confusion. A few really good things happened in those years, but mostly I was an idiot with a 9-5 job.

So it came as a complete shock to me when earlier this week my inner emo girl decided she needed some attention. One day I was a housewife with adorable hand splints and a positive My Fingers Will Heal Soon attitude, and the next day I suspected nothing short of amputation in my near future. The best part was when I was home alone at 2 am, crying into the carpet, staining little sections black with my mascara, ready to take out the xacto blade and do the surgery myself. I know you doubt stupidity like this happens in your thirties, but I assure you it does.

I spent the next 48 hours utterly delusional, convinced that by way of my sprained fingers, the universe was giving me a sign to stop living. I should clarify that for the past two months, I've been in pain. Aching pain, and the meds aren't working. And for the past month I've been on a largely liquid diet because I can't cut my own food and stabbing it with a fork is particularly humiliating. So there's the pain. And the hunger. And the utter frustration that I can't unbutton my pants because, dammit, these hot-looking jeans that I insist on wearing fit too tightly. Oh, yeah. And I haven't left the house in the past few weeks, except to go to the grocery for more liquid to drink and to go to the bookstore to pick up a copy of Breaking Dawn...don't get me started.

So these were all factors for you to consider when I tell you that I contemplated ripping down every happy looking photo of myself from our walls. Because. The happiness was mocking me.

And I contemplated tearing down my studio - because who can ever make music again when the universe is telling you to stop living? Next, I wanted to delete my websites so there was no digital proof of my existence before I set fire to this house and destroyed myself in the flames. Yes, life is just this miserable with sprained thumbs.

Sure, there was a removed part of my brain that was amused by my bad behavior, commenting, "This is the best entertainment we've had all year. I mean, this feels really good. We should do this more often. Maybe we'll blog about it in a few days. Don't forget to mention the part where we scream that there is no God. That's good stuff."

And then, last night my emotional fever broke. Suddenly I was all, Back to 1991 much? And I had newfound respect for my mother because I wanted to smack myself and realized how much self control it must have taken her to just shut the door between us. I could tell you right now it was good to get in touch with the angst, but that would be a lie because there are so many places on our carpeting and bedsheets that have little mascara butterfly stains and I'm a housewife at heart. Who hates stains. I'm just hoping that the few people I spoke with over the past few days will forgive me for contaminating their universe with my garbage. And so, with that said, I gladly publish the story on the internet. Because even though she's calmed down, my inner emo girl totally wants to put it out there.

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I can't type, except if I do the exhausting "hunt and peck" method. And I certainly can't play the piano. Or get into many yoga positions. I need to wear these things 24 hours/day. Sexy.

What happened? My first rockstar injury happened. No, not from headbanging, from lifting gear, or from too many hours intensely playing my instrument. My injury happened because during all those hours driving on tour, I had been holding the steering wheel in a bad position and sprained both of my thumbs and aggravated my tendonitis. Since I've been home I've been in denial, thinking the pain would go away. But I haven't been able to open doors, screw a toothpaste cap, or pull up my pants for five weeks. Can you think of a wussier rockstar way to injure yourself?

Go ahead. I dare you to try.

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You already know I released my fourth album "A Broke Machine" last month. Right?

Maybe you already know I'll be on a small U.S. tour over the next few weeks. Possibly, yes?

But I know you DEFINITELY didn't know about my new e-team, "Team Terami", because it was just announced today. The purpose of the Team is for you to be able to help me promote my music...which is a weird sentence for me to write. Normally, I don't like to ask for help. It's a character flaw. The house could be on fire and I'd be fighting it alone with nothing but a teacup and some old collected rain water. However, I'm so excited to introduce my new music to you and everyone else, that I realize I can't do it without your help.

So, to celebrate the release of "A Broke Machine" and my upcoming tour, please consider joining the e-team, which will be holding contest-based missions to help connect new listeners with my music. To join, all you need to do is log in (or register) at the Terami.com message boards in order to see the "hidden" Team Terami forums. All the information you need is posted in those forums, including the first mission which was announced today! (note: You will not be able to see the Team Terami forum unless you log in to your message board account!)

If you are the skeptical-type, then you can read a handy FAQ about the Team on Terami.com, here.

...and now I'll leave you with the very exciting tour dates...and hopefully we'll be able to connect at one of these shows!

May 18 - San Diego, CA (Lestat's)
May 21 - Austin, TX (Austin Java)
May 22 - Houston, TX (Waldo's Coffeehouse)
May 24 - Pensacola, FL (Et Cafe)
May 28 - Philadelphia, PA (InFusion Coffee and Tea)
May 29 - New York, NY (Rockwood Music Hall)
June 4 - Chicaco, IL (Silvie's Lounge)
June 6 - Minneapolis, MN (House Concert)
June 7 - Davenport, IA (Mojo's)
June 12 - Park City, UT (Celsius Lounge)
June 17 - Los Angeles, CA (Hotel Café)

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In this photo, I'm trying to simulate a caterpillar-eye's-view... Cuz if you were fuzzy and all you had going for you were three thoracic body segments and thirteen thousand legs, wouldn't you look up at this scene and think it's the perfect day to become a butterfly? Yes. You would.

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The whole experience is shades of unbelievable discomfort for me because I'm the girl in the class who is pausing while everyone else is holding their pose, which reminds me that joining the army is probably not a good idea for me. While we were doing some cobra pose variation, with everyone struggling to push through the pain, I completely collapsed on myself. My first thought was, "What if the yoga teacher was a drill sargeant? She would punish this whole group because I gave up. Oh dear. I am the weakest link." Once we were given permission to release cobra pose and rest on our stomach, little sweaty tears were dripping from my eyes as I realized I was that girl.

The yoga texts I've read all state that physical flexibility is only partially fueled by muscles, that the main support for poses comes from the flow of life energy in a person. So, when we have a blockage that keeps us from doing cobra pose (a-hem) it has less to do with our physiological lower back than it does with the spiritual and mental baggage which we hold as tension in that area. Oh, fantastic.

This yoga experience makes me wonder about why we have the continuing desire to pursue things that are not only physically challenging, but also completely without guarantee. There is no guarantee that after a year of doing yoga that I will be happier, healthier, or more capable of touching my toes. Sure, I'm hoping for all of those benefits, but it's just as likely that after a year of doing yoga, I'll only be slightly more capable and infinitely more frustrated. Yet, even though I weep my way through my poses, I can't help but put my faith in the boundless possibility that there is a way out of physical stress, mental cloudiness, and spiritual ache. Maybe the answer is Kundalini. Maybe it's something else. Or maybe it has nothing to do with what I do, but rather with how I open myself to my own potential.

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About a year ago, I had a similar awareness-process about dreaming - a subject which we all know I am fascinated by! All of a sudden, I couldn't believe that we require hours out of each day where we not only cease standard consciousness, but that we engage in bizarre adventures which we quickly forget upon awaking. Because I sleep about 8 hours each night, 1/3 of my day is spent in some other reality...yet waking reality is the only reality in which I know myself. How bizarre. Who am I during the other 1/3 of my life? What am I doing? That's a lot of life which is unaccounted for! I decided to investigate.

A few months ago, I began the daily practice of not only recording my dreams, but also my sleep habits. I've learned so much about myself in this process, but my friends are surprised to learn this little fact about my life: sleeping has become scientific work for me. I wake up every two hours or so, turn on my little light, and scribble furiously about what was just happening in my brain. It's to the point that I can now predict what sort of dreams I'll have at any particular day in the month because I've been charting for long enough to see the pattern. Oh yes.

In fact, when people say they remember a dream, I smile. A dream. Like there's only one! Last night, I recorded 9 dreams. And there's several that I'm forgetting.

People ask me how I can possibly enjoy a good nights' sleep, considering I wake up and write throughout the night. Surprisingly, I've never slept better! The reason for improved sleep is that I'm aware of my sleep cycle and I'm able to observe the habits and natural body patterns of the cycle. Once you understand this about yourself, you'll be able to work WITH it, instead of just sleeping and waking randomly.

For fun, you'll also able to chart certain dream phases. For example, I've been going through a "post-death" phase in my dreams. This means that I have a lot of dreams in which I die and then experience an afterlife. Sometimes, I even experience reincarnation. So I'm exploring that "reality" right now. It's been strange.

Perhaps there is no objectively useful information that comes from charting the gibberish content of your dreams. Perhaps it's a waste of time. However, I've felt huge benefits from becoming more aware of my thoughts and mental experiences. Plus, the discipline required to maintain a rigorous journaling schedule is impressive. While the rest of the world falls helplessly into sleep, people like me are having ever-increasing adventures - no matter how real, imaginary, bizarre, or meaningful those adventures might appear. In the end, it will offer you a philosophical position from which to view waking life, and you'll begin to better know yourself as a biological creature, as well as becoming more able to understand your mental processes.

There are several theories on what happens to us when we dream...theories surrounding the objective/subjective nature of dreamlife...theories surrounding the usefulness/worthlessness of dreams...theories of biology, theories of spirituality. Every perspective is equally compelling and helps to inform the persons' worldview. In my own pursuit, I've come to develop new ideas about who I am, where I am, and what constitutes consciousness. So, while this experiment might seem frivolous, I assure you that it has the potential to be very deep, if you're willing to go there.

Have you ever tried anything like this? If so, what did you learn? Tell!

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I just re-read this old blog entry which makes some compelling arguments for why dream exploration is so interesting. I really talk a lot about my dreams, don't I?

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Now, I'm focusing my energy on the upcoming release show on Saturday. I will tell you this: I'm playing with a band for the first time ever. It's some craziness! I'm borrowing Tut and Jeremy from the Huntington Beach hard rock band "Star Off Machine" to play drums and bass. Last year I did a little writing with Erick, the lead singer of STOFMA, which led to me become friends with the guys. Although you might never think of putting us together on the same stage, it's actually a great combination. The only downside is that they live so far away. Oh. And that I can't fit them in my pocket and take them with me on tour.

Last night, we had rehearsal down in Huntington Beach. As I was driving in horrible 3-hour traffic, I suddenly realized I left my glasses at home and was about to become blind as the sun went down. Sure enough, after sunset I was driving down the main street, about to go through a large intersection when at the last second, I saw an old woman wearing black clothes, shuffling across the crosswalk on a red light. What was this!!?? In Los Angeles, you never expect oblivious pedestrians to be in the middle of a busy road! I slammed on my brakes. The car behind me swerved and jetted through the light. The woman didn't even look up. She kept on shuffling.

What a terrifying moment. I could easily have hit her. All I did was say "thank you thank you" to some invisible protector. Even if I had glasses on, she still would have been nearly impossible to see on that road. However, my lack of spectacles certainly made me responsible for the scare.

At rehearsal, I told the guys about my brush with vehicular manslaughter. They were all, "Yeah. That happens all the time." What? Really? To whom? On what planet? Cuz on my planet, people with a deathwish at least wear reflective safety attire.

Anyway. It reminded me of this:

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