Come Down, Lady, Come Down!

I never used to have weird dreams. Nightmares, yes, all the time when I was a kid and teenager, but never fun, weird, harmless dreams. That changed when I got pregnant. I had the most bizarre dreams almost every single night. I thought the dreams would stop when the pregnancy hormones finally left my system, but they haven't really. I don't get them every night any more, and they usually aren't quite as strange as the ones I had during my pregnancies, but they still come with great frequency, and they are ... odd. Usually fun, too, though sometimes not so much.

Last night I started out with an ordinary weird dream - hanging out in PA with some of our friends from back there, and Todd Eldredge, and all laughing and chatting and waiting for the wrecking ball to swing by and destroy the house down the street, and Todd found out and was picking on me for fangirl-ishly stalking him over the years (for the record, in real life, I've only seen him and asked him for a picture ONCE, and that was at the '98 Worlds, and I was asking LOTS of the skaters for their pictures), and Colin Firth was singing this in the background.



(Just Colin and the guitar, though, No Rupert Everett and the piano, which makes me sad.)

Then the dream switched the that age-old stand-by: I had emerged from a long series of dark tunnels (which in real life would send me into a claustrophobic coma, but didn't seem to faze me in my dream) and needed to get through a ballroom filled with people waiting for a wedding to start in order to reach the hotel lobby and complete my secret mission. And I was only in my underwear.

No, really. I had that stereotypical dream of being at a wedding in my underwear. I didn't even have that dream when I was stressed out from planning my own wedding; I don't know why I would have it now!

The really interesting thing is, though, is that I was not embarrassed or ashamed. I don't remember the reason I was in my underwear, but whatever it was, it wasn't my fault, and so I stood straight and tall and simply walked through that ballroom without even blushing. I got to the end, and everyone was whispering and shocked, and I spun around and announced "If it bothers you all so much, then maybe one of you could lend me a shawl or something?"

And someone did, so I wrapped myself in that and went to the lobby, delivered my message, was given some clothes by one of the guys there, said hi to Todd (who apparently felt the need to pop back into my dream just for a brief moment, thankfully after I had pulled on the jeans and black t-shirt), and then left to go help my dad judge swimming trials for the Olympics.

I enjoyed the entire dream, but I'm still pondering over me not being at all bothered by my lack of clothing in front of well-dressed strangers. I'm wondering if it indicates an increase in self-confidence? The fact that after two kids my sense of modesty has completely altered (hey, you try having kids wandering in and out of the bathroom while you're on the toilet and not have your sense of modesty shift)? Maybe that I'm willing to be more honest in my writing and not worry so much about people misjudging me as I did when I was younger?

Or just the result of that glass of red wine I had with dinner?

Missing the Music

A bit ago, when I asked for blog post suggestions from my readers, Amy mentioned music - most specifically, what sort of music inspires me to write, or what I listen to when I'm writing. Which led me to an interesting revelation:

I'm confused about music right now.

I grew up in a very music-oriented house. My mom jokes that the only instrument she plays well is the radio, but she loves music, and so she always had something playing in the house. My dad plays guitar very well, and in recent years has started to experiment with other stringed instruments as well (his favorite is the dulcimer), and he also grew up in a house constantly filled with music (eight kids, all of them who knew how to play at least one if not several instruments), and so when Mom didn't have her classical records or cassettes playing, Dad was either playing and singing himself, or listening to his John Denver and Emmylou Harris records.

("For Baby, (For Bobbie)" was the lullaby he sang to my sister and me when we were babies. I still sing it to my girls sometimes. Cue lump-in-the-throat.)

So yeah. Music. I love it. My sister and I both took piano lessons when we were younger (she was awesome, I was ... not so much); Dad taught both of us to play guitar (I'm still working on smooth chord changes. Slow learner); we also both took voice lessons for a few years (I love, love, loved that). Lis even tried her hand at violin for a couple months, though we were ALL relieved when that phase passed. I never even attempted that one. And the one time I tried to play a flute I spit right across the mouth hole. Not my finest moment.

Aside from making music myself, though, I love to have my house filled with music. The problem for me these days is WHAT. Aside from kids' music, of course (I had to tell the littles today that Mummy could not listen to their Wheels on the Bus CD ONE MORE TIME or she'd start screaming). Most pop music bores me. I like folk music, but hate country with a passion. And after a while, the folk music gets too repetitive. No rap. No hard rock. Not my thing.

I listen to classical a lot, but sometimes I want something with words, you know? And not necessarily Italian words. I can sing in Italian, but forget translating it. Before I learn Italian I want to learn Welsh, Russian, French, Latin - if I'm still alive at the end of all those, I'll think about adding Italian to my repertoire.

Anyway. I do have a variety of artists and styles that I enjoy on occasion, but none of them really are inspirational for writing, or are even something I want to have playing all the time. Owl City is fun, but after two or three songs, they all start sounding alike. Regina Spektor is awesome (perfect music for house-cleaning), but not good writing music, not for me, anyway. Patty Griffith, Emmylou Harris ... all those folk artists are great, but again, repetitive after a bit. I love Adele, but I can only listen to her albums so many times before I want to shake her and say "Just cheer up already and move past the dude, lady!" Which I'm sure gives you all sorts of interesting insights into my character.

I used to really love Michael Buble, Norah Jones, Diana Krall ... and I still like them well enough (well, I'm pretty sick of Buble, actually), but most of the time these days, I find their music boring. Same with all the Celtic artists I used to enjoy so well.

Soundtracks are fine for some things, but usually when I listen to them I'm visualizing the accompanying scenes from the movies, which is never good when I'm trying to visualize the scenes I'm writing at the same time.

So when I'm writing, it's usually just to classical music or Wheels on the Bus or, sadly, with the tv on in the background, which is terrible, even worse than listening to soundtracks while writing, but at least provides something of a backdrop. I need to break that habit, though, post-haste. I feel like there's got to be the perfect writing music for me out there, somewhere ... but I've yet to find it.

I hope it shows up soon, though, or so help me, the wheels on that darn bus are comin' off.

Music

Thank you to those who commented on the last post! I was asking the question because I was stuck on figuring out a particular magical adventure in my MG fantasy, and I wanted to see what, if any, were some common threads that wove throughout most people's childhood dreams. There was one, too! It was ... flying, whether on winged horses, flying carpets, or just on one's own. Pretty neat, to see how much so many very different people have in common from childhood.

And now on to today's topic, which is, as the title suggests, music.

My sister and I were very fortunate, growing up. We had parents who refused to listen to, or allow us to listen to, bad music. So my childhood music memories include listening to Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf; making up dances to Bach; humming John Denver along with Dad; and taking naps accompanied by songs about phonics ("Apple, apple, a,a,a") and Spanish-to-English translations of simple phrases, also set to music.

Awesome stuff.

Thanks to such a diverse and rich background musically (I don't really remember listening to much kid's music at all, except for Raffi, naturally, and Peter, Paul, and Mary, and the aforementioned tape with the learning songs on it - which I now have in CD form for my littles), I find that I still appreciate a wide variety of music. Different sorts for different moods or needs! I like:

Beethoven or Hayden for cleaning

Mozart-Handel-Brahms-etc. for relaxing

Bach for inspiration

And for just general listening, or if I need a specific kind of music for a specific kind of story: Owl City; Regina Spektor; Marina and the Diamonds (some); Lenka; Ingrid Michaelson; Kate Nash or Lily Allen (some); and, of course, Michael Buble.

And then there's the Celtic music I like, whether instrumental or with vocals. And thanks to growing up with a string-pickin' father, I'm a sucker for American folk music.

I'm trying to imitate that same sort of diverse background for my littles; we do have a bunch of children's music, but it is all either Raffi (EVERY kid needs to grow up listening to Baby Beluga, which my Joy freely adapts into "Heaven above and the sea below, and a little white hi-ip-po - whee, whee, whee!"), or more folk music, adapted for kids. We are big fans of Elizabeth Mitchell and Lisa Loeb! More often, they listen to whatever Carl and I are listening to - which can be anything from instrumental hymns to Brahms to Michael Buble!

Do you have music that you listen to for specific tasks? When you write, do you have music playing in the background, or do you need silence, or does it depend on the story (it does for me - some stories I need to write in silence, while some require music to put me in the proper mindset)? What sort of music did you listen to as a kid, and do you still find yourself drawn to that sort of music now?


Disclaimer: I am not associated or affiliated with any of the artists mentioned in this post; the opinions therein are my own.