Category Archives: Writing

Play Them the New Songs

Last night, John Heart Jackie and Danielle Ate the Sandwich played at Everyday Joe’s in Fort Collins. John Heart Jackie is from Portland, Oregon and amazing (seriously, you should check them out), but what really mattered to me: I finally got to see Danielle live.

Pic by Coleen Danger (not from last night)

Danielle wore a rainbow rhinestone clip in her hair and a matching bracelet around her wrist, and had silver waves of sequins on her shirt–she sparkled on stage, even before she started to sing.

Her violin player, Chris Jusell, stood on his tippy toes when he played, like a musical ballet dancer.

Her bass player, Dennis Bigelow reminded me of my favorite side-talking comedian, Jim Gaffigan.

Danielle talked about how making music was her job, was what she did, but that she kept expecting the mayor to knock on her door, say he’d reviewed her file and this couldn’t continue, she’d need to get a part-time job. She’d applied once at KMart for a job in the Garden Center, but they wanted her to work full-time in the Customer Service Center.  She stopped herself and thought, “I don’t want to work at KMart, I want to be a musician.”

Three CD’s later and it seems to be working out.  The music alone would sustain her, but if you see a live show, you essentially get an entire improv comedy skit as well, with banter between the musicians, as well as between them and the audience.  Danielle makes use of silly voices, and questions her bandmates in a way that reminded me of when a comedian asks “where are you from, what do you do?” and she can make a whole bit from it. Last night, some of the banter was about road trip snacks (“canti” bars, peanuts for sure, beef jerky and pistachios) and music, demands for compliments, grown-up goosebumps, reality TV, three bandmates on a deserted island, food poisoning and pizza, and Paris, France.

Danielle played three of her new songs, one that I’d heard already because the day she posted it on YouTube, I posted it here and played it over, and over, and over. She said it was hard to play new songs for an audience, that she wanted to sit on them, keep working on them, not wanting to finish or accept them as done.  And, there’s a 14 year old girl inside her still that says “But what if they don’t like it?” [What if they don’t like me? Oh how well I understand this!]

A friend of hers, who makes her think about hard things, challenges her to think differently–which she joked she’d never do, she’s too lazy, would rather watch TV–asked her “Why do you care if they like it? That’s not why you are doing it, is it?”  It’s like what Eric said to me about writing this blog.  Danielle’s answer was something like, “Well, yeah, but I want them to like it [me].  And they need to like it so they’ll buy my CD’s and come to my shows, and I can keep being a musician and won’t have to go work at KMart.”

She’d asked Dennis earlier in the show to give her a compliment, demanded one from him, said that her bio should just say “Danielle needs approval and appreciation” and nothing else.  When she played one of her new songs, she gave the audience a hard time for not having a stronger, louder reaction to it, especially since just singing it, she’d given herself goosebumps.

What struck me about the show–besides the music, besides the discovery and joy of seeing her live for the first time–is that she said “yes.”  The Universe, Art, Music called her, and she said “yes.”  And yet, she still struggles, at least a bit, with needing the approval and adoration of an audience, a very personal but also practical need.

She might still feel a little timid, have that 14 year old girl inside her that worries that people might not like what she’s doing–but she does it anyway!  And she’s amazing.  There is no other Danielle Ate the Sandwich, not even close.  She’s been my writing muse for this past month, as I struggle to write something of worth every day, she’s been my doula for the birth of this blog and my own public voice–and she’s a real girl.  Her willingness to be vulnerable and brave with her art, her voice, her heart, soothes the scared 14 year old in me, the one that wants so badly to be liked, to be complimented and supported.  I am inspired by her as a fellow artist, and grateful to be part of the audience for the art she makes.

And this summer, I am finally going to dust off the ukelele I’ve had for the last four years and learn how to play. And I’m going to keep writing, keep moving, keep developing my own voice, my own space, my own audience, with Danielle Ate the Sandwich on the soundtrack.

Love You. Love, Me

I started a new online class this week, “Ordinary Courage: Lessons in Love, Shame and Worthiness,” taught by two amazing women, Jen Lemen and Brene’ Brown.


I have been reading Jen’s blog since this summer, and she’s also one of the teachers for the Mondo Beyondo class I am taking.  I am learning from her how to be brave, how to be vulnerable, how to be gentle, and how to rage.  Her series of posts about “How to Be Happy” are some of my favorites, as well as “10 Things That Are True About You.”  She is so powerful and raw that it scares me sometimes, but I want to grow up to be like her.

I first encountered Brene’ Brown’s work through her TED Talk.

One thing that really sticks with me still from this talk is this idea: We numb vulnerability. The problem is that we cannot selectively numb emotion. When we numb negative emotion, we also numb joy, gratitude, and happiness.

I had a long history of anxiety and depression and abusive relationships. I have been working for the last 10 years to figure out how to get unstuck. I started with therapy, yoga, meditation, exercise, dogs, supportive friends, and a change in my working conditions. Then two beings that I loved dearly were diagnosed with cancer and died within six months of each other, and addiction and mental illness started to eat away at family relationships.

I had been trying for years to identify what was at the heart of my writer’s block, my life block–why was it that I knew what I wanted, wanted it with my whole heart, but held back, stayed stuck?  After watching Brene’s TED Talk, I convinced a friend to get her latest book, “The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are” and be in a book couple with me, (there were only two of us, not enough for a group or a club).

It turns out that depression and anxiety and numbing out were only symptoms of the real problem, merely coping strategies. I had been in an abusive relationship for years–with myself. As one of my classmates in Ordinary Courage described it, I’ve been “smashing myself to bits.” Everything broke wide open with that realization. Things started to shift and come unstuck.

Today, in my Mondo Beyondo class, Jen Lemen posted an interview she’d done with Mike Robbins, an author, speaker and coach.  The tagline on his website is “Empowering People to Be Authentic and Appreciative.”  In the interview, Mike explains that “I really think that’s our job with all of this. How do we make our dreams come true? We love ourselves. How do we overcome obstacles and challenges? We love ourselves. How do we attract love into our lives? We love ourselves. How do we, you know, get past that upper limit that we stop at? We love ourselves. I mean, it just keeps coming back to, in a genuine, deep, soulful way, we just love ourselves and practice that…whatever we create, or manifest, or achieve in life is meaningless without self love.”

This reads like a poem to me, a verse from a holy book.

How do we make our dreams come true?
We love ourselves.
How do we overcome obstacles and challenges?
We love ourselves.
How do we attract love into our lives?
We love ourselves.
How do we get past that upper limit that we stop at?
We love ourselves.
Whatever we create, or manifest, or achieve in life
is meaningless without self love.

My first reaction when I heard him say this was “oh sh*it, I am in so much trouble.”  You see, I am not very good at this self-love thing.  I am really good at abusing myself, bullying myself, beating myself up, punishing myself, pushing myself, “smashing myself to bits.”

My not so secret mission? Befriend myself, take care of myself, love myself.  I’ve seen what I good friend I am, how well I take care of my dogs, how kind I am to strangers, and how I love my husband–I know I can do this.

I’ll start by singing this song to myself.  Singing it to soothe myself, singing myself to sleep, singing it when I feel joy, singing it in gratitude.  I’m so sorry.  You have deserved so much better than this. Love you.  Love, Me.

  • How long do you want to be loved?
    Is forever enough, is forever enough?
    How long do you want to be loved?
    Is forever enough?
    Cause I’m never, never giving you up