Clutch, COC, and 60 Watt Shaman-11-26-00 Emo’s Austin, Texas
Part One
Ohhhhhh! I reallly needed that show. As I hustle around Austin, beating the imported assholes down with my Super Stealth like powers, I get tired. As I try very hard to learn and improve my technological capabilities, my brain swells to enormous heretofor unknown capabilities. As, I struggle with the joys of single parenthood, my loneliness factor increases in non incremental amounts. As, I struggle to create my art, I face serious insecurities that could easily sleep if I just did not create the art. As, I ignore my art, I struggle with expression and basic sanity. Artists are funny this way, we need to create in order to live happily. So, I struggle to create, again fighting all the way. At many points in time this year, I have said to myself: Why am I struggling so hard? When is this going to get easier for me?

I realized something last night. When we have memories that rock our world, we are truly alive. When we live the stories that we tell our children, we are truly alive. When movies are made because we make them from our souls mouth, we are alive. I struggle because I want to have all that is worth struggling for. I live my life to the fullest because it is the best content…

Clutch was set to arrive at soundcheck at 3pm. 700pm they roll into town. Holiday traffic made a routine three hour trip last seven hours. Welcome to the new improved Austin. Our small town has a small highway. As they were arriving, I was trying to explain to a litlle child why he could not go to the Adult concert. He was pissed. He normally gets to participate in set up and soundcheck. Ahhhhh, next time ok, super baby? I dropped him off at the babysitters knowing that she would become his victim, instead of me. That’s why we pay them right?

I arrived at Emos at 730. I parked in Cracksville, (a small suburb of most big towns) as I ran to the venue, I noticed the dealers, the junkies and ther pets. Mental note, don’t walk back alone at 3am. I passed the bars that were deserted. After all most people had done ther partying earlier in the week. I felt Jack’s presence. It felt nice. I got the bar and noticed that a line had formed. I had thirty minutes until they opened the doors. I had to find Jack in order to get in and get that frothy beer I was dreaming about. I walked around the building and found the handy truck locked from the outside. No luck. I walked around the other side of the bar, going down a dark alley, following a chain link fence. I saw Clutch boys sitting on the benches inside the gates.
"Hey!" I yelled. They looked up at me startled and curious. They couldn’t recognize me through the fence. I said: It is me, Kris. Where is the Jackmeister? Of course, my question was answered with a question: "What are you doing out ther? Come on in!" I explained the door situation to them. The crew lead, Oscar walked over to me and gave me his passes. COOOL points for Oscar.. I accepted them and went to the front, walking through the door with pride. No-one gave me shit, I belonged. I looked like I belonged. Not to mention, I was welcome, in this world.

I feel blessed. All of this happens before I get to hear the music. Bonus!

My art has finally started to refind me. As a mom, as a worker in the pre ipo industry, I bust my ass just to get through my day. When I get home, I have dinner, dishes, homework that can last up to three hours. Seb and I work very hard at achieving our happiness. When all is said and done with what it is that we are “required” to do, I still have to find time for my art, friends and eventually a lover. I spent the last year working very hard on a few projects. I attempted to create some commercial art for an Australian band. My management skills sucked. My art skills soared. I created some of the best materials of my life. I could not get the bands to return my calls, letters, etc. Everyone said: This is great work. They will contact you. To my greatest shock and dismay not a peep was uttered, not even a thank you came across. I worked very hard on it. No matter what I tell myself: they already had a contract with someone else. They did not care for a feminine touch. No matter what I say to myself, I think that deep down inside my worst fear is being fed to its delight. I cant say that I suck. I do not truly believe that. I was hurt by this rejection. My reaction was to stop fighting the good fight of forcing myself to believe long enough to produce. I did that and did not receive a fraction. So, what do I tell myself now?
How about the truth?
I make my art because I have no other choice. I love my style and my ways. When I create I feel like a woman, powerful, strong and beautiful. I create because it fills my heart with unprecedented joy. I fill myself with me when I create. So, who do I make this for and why? I make it for me because it makes me happy. My series of connected lines will always remind me of the date and time. I remember making my drawing, a spiritual coffee. It reminded me of my mother and how we would sit and stare at nothing, she with her coffee and me whining horrifically for us to leave. It reminded me of my childhood and the beauty of being adored, taken care and loved unconditionally. Every time I work on it, I feel so relaxed. I have tapped into my soul’s memories. No-one can take this away from me. I may be tested. But I will not lose this battle. I remembered the key to my success as an artist. No matter what I worked on something daily. I did this through will power and strength. I set my goals in writing. My best friend Cassie teases that I am to retentive. I know how I am going to spend the hours in my day. She is correct. By writing them down, they don’t slip away from me. I know what it is that I want to do, I drool for the time to come when I am out of work and my child sleeps peacefully. I plan it in my head. I create color schemes on the way to the restroom. Every step of the way, I try to create my focus. what more can I do in order to survive as an artist? I ask the universe this question. What more is ther for me to learn? I welcome the challenge. I look forward to the adventure. Please show me the way to living a good life with art as my anchor to sanity…
K
k1331@texas.net

Last week was Halloween. I was so busy with my new job, that I did not make a new outfit. Last year, I hung out with kids and we walked the streets of South Austin. This year, we got to hang out with adults. WHOO HOOO. I crashed a party with my friend, Kris. It was thrown by a former co-worker. We worked together at a world making gaming company. He invited my best friend. She was busy moving. I overheard her talking about it with a friend and I made my way to crash it. Is it bad to want to go and have a good time even though I was not invited? I asked the host this question, too. He laughed and said: Kchick you are cool. I want people like you at all of my parties. He was super sweet about it. I guess that it makes sense. Every party that you throw, you worry about the dregs of the earth walking through your door. If the uninvited consist of me and Kris, cool. We had a great time. We laughed, made people laugh. However, it has been a year since I worked with those people. They all looked at me, like I know you. Who are you? It was quizical.
The strangely beautiful part started for me as we arrived to the party. It was dark outside. I drove up, knowing that it was the third house on the right, number blah, blah, blah. A man was walking towards the house. He stopped and looked at the car as we drove past. He looked straight into my eyes. I was taken aback with a pleasant zap. I said: Hello. For me, this is a miracle. usually, I freeze when ther is cuteness abound. A new thought process started for me at that point in time. Why cant I be a conversational instigator? Why cant I be a sexual instigator? Of course this was happening at the same time that I was begging God to please let this guy talk to me. Now, you know the point of todays blog...
He waited as I parked my car. Then he said to me, do you know where apartment blah, blah, blah is? It was straight in front of him, lit up like a big orange pumpkin. I guessed that was the location and we walked in together. I was silent. I felt for the situation at hand and I was having great stirrings about this guy I was entering the party with. I knew that I was crashing the party and I was afraid that we would enter to hear: Go away! It was a quiet reception. (Gamers are a reserved bunch) We walked outside to see if our friends were there. He walked outside, too. No more words were said to eachother for many hours. He and I orbitted around eachother and our respective friends. Being smokers we stayed outside most of the night. Hours went by, we were all having a good time. It was obvious to me that he was not going to come up and intro himself to me. I understand this. I hate this. I feel the same exact way: What if they treat me badly when I say hello? I went up to him and asked: what is your name? I genuinely wanted to know. His beauty enticed me. He had the most glowing green eyes. His hair was chesnut brown and waving past his hsoulders. He was tall, thin and he glowed, just glowed with beauty. I would go near him not needing any words to be said. Being near him was like being close to electricity, I could just feel the flow through my body. He was quiet. We made some talk and shared some wine. Ultimately, I would walk away because of my fear. Did he have a girlfriend? Was I being to pushy? What would my other friends think? How did this look? Ohhhh, what a waste of thought. It was so unecessary to think this way. If he was taken, he would tell me when I asked himout, right? Ask HIM out? Could I do this? Is this wrong to be this forward? Someone please help me..
I went away from him because I did want to bother him. Mind you, this was all so super steath. Being the only woman and many great all male teams has shown me the way to keeping my hormones in check. I have been surrounded by some great, kick ass artists who also represent the type of man that I want. i have had to keep my feelings in check, professionally, for months at a time. I can handle a party...
So, more then likely he did not know of how I felt. I was friendly with everyone. He only stood out in my heart and mind.
He was beautiful. His eyes are permanently emblazed in my minds eye. I feel blessed to have met him. I also feel like if it was meant to be, one day we will cross paths again. It was that strong of a connection then time will bring it around again. I can walk away from this with my memories. It really felt good to be near him. It felt like I did not need to say a word to be felt, to be known. It was a love that I had never felt before.
I had to write a poem about it, this is what came out:

If my eyes were greener,
Would I be the one for you?
If my smile was whiter then a cloud
Would you dream of me all day?
If my body was perfect,
Would you want me more?
If my heart was open,
Would you be ther for me?

If you walked past me and simply felt magnetized,
Would you follow?
Would you say those three little words:
“Hi, what’s up?”
If you did not know who I was,
Would you fear my rejection?
State of mind?
Status?
Could you cross that line?
Could you show that you care for me?

Ther is nothing more to see
My words are my depth
My actions, my souls caliber
The magnetism that you feel is mine.
So, by all means say those words to me…

Today is international Slacker day. I would type more, but...

Rush hour is like your career. If others were not in the way, you would get to your goals much quicker...

Ohhhh, work…Work is hard. I spend most of my time trying to meet the deadlines, accumulate the information, and deal with people’s needs. Then when it comes down to it, I flop on the verbal delivery. I find it very difficult to communicate. I do my best, then I flop. How can this happen? Better yet, did it really happen? Did I really flop or did it just feel that way?
Either way, the main issue here is dealing with my fears. I knew the materials that we were discussing. I made the reports. It is my information. When it came time to talk, I froze with fear and simply did not want to talk anymore. I was praying for someone to chime in and speak up, in assistance. Why is this?
I have been and always will be the one who assists myself the most. I will be the one who speaks up. I’ve got what it takes and I know that I can pull it off. The issue is my nerves and fears. If I can find a way to handle that, I know that I can thrive.
Ahhhhh....Blogging...