Lorri Solomon-Matthewson / Blog


Another spot added to the tour! Pancho's at Whitewood on June 8th...thanks to a referral from a friend. It's not what you know...

Getting a move on :)

I think the nicest thing this week is setting up house concerts not only for myself, but for artists that are either just starting out, or traveling on their way through. It's been a good busy time and I'm really looking forward to writing some more soon.

Wishing don't make it so

...or as my dear mother used to say...wish in one hand,shit in the other and see what gets full first. Mom had a way with imagery, not exactly a lady, and that is exactly the thing about her that I respect and miss the most now...the momisms, the things she would say... About freckle faces--'looks like he stood behind a screen door and someone threw a bucket of shit at him' About big noses--"he could have hung in a cherry tree and picked with both hands" "could have smoked in the shower" About liars--"If you lie, you'll cheat, if you'll cheat, you'll kill, and even YOU cannot believe there is nothing wrong with murder" About women who got around a bit --"if she had as many pricks sticking out of her as she had sticking into her, she would look like a porcupine" On discipline--"I'll kick you so hard your kids will be born cross-eyed (ironically the first one was), "don't look at ME in that tone of voice" "Hate me if you want, you'll grow out of it--if I let you live" On death and dying--"a man meant to hang will never die any other way" " You'll miss me when I'm gone...." and I do, mom. I wish you were here.

Good thing it's a dry cold

I woke up this morning really, really warm and content, tangled in the blankets with my mister--slowly I became aware that the furnace wasn't working, and I wasn't so much warm as I was numb. It was the darn thermostat. It seemed like a good idea to go to a battery operated thermostat, they even offered a rebate or some such thing. It would save money on your electrical bill. Well, that bill hasn't changed, and I go through copious numbers of batteries.So I bought a battery charger, only to find the rechargeables last less than three days in the thermostat. So, long story short, if I had 'nads they would have been gone. But the mister knew where the new batteries are....and I'm sitting pretty in my flannel penguin jammies and pink fuzzy housecoat drinking a really wonderful cup of coffee, having a chat with daughter Rhiannon, and looking forward to a wonderful day. Peace!

How do I write about heartache when my heart don't hurt no more...:)

I live a good and happy life, but it wasn't always so. I lived a life of quiet desperation for a lot of years, but hey, I got some good songs out of it, and eventually put the toxic people I let into my life out of it again. And now, things are going as I always believed they could. Love is not 'working at it' and I don't have to keep my guard up with the people I know are truly friends. Music survived and even flourished, because I'm not tied down out of a misplaced loyalty. But there is a down-side, and that is the malicious gossip that is spread by the people who used to say they loved me. And it made me very sad, until today. When I realized with the help of one daughter that these are narrow, unhappy people, living by and large, narrow and unhappy lives, and who seemingly cannot stand to see me be happier and more successful then I've ever been in the past. Now I feel sorry for them. Because they cannot get past the fact that my life went on and went on better than ever without them in it. Putting them out of my life was the best move I ever made, because it made room for the good people I have in my life now. Minimal drama, good friends...good love....now what the fuck will i write about ?? 3

Pensive thoughts

I read a bit of a book I bought for myself recently. It is called the 'artists way' and if you've never read it you really should. I'm not all that far into it yet, but I do like what it is saying. Some of the learnings from this morning include little nuggets like if you want to be a really good artist, you've got be willing to be a bad one first. Judging your early work is like 'artist' abuse. That rings true for me. I'm left wondering is an 'artist' what you do? Or is an artist what you are? Do you become an artist because you feel it in your bones, or do you become an artist because someone else values your work? Can you be an artist and not create anything at all? Lots of questions, and I'll work it out in my journal. But not today. I'm interested in your thoughts. Take a moment, write to me and tell me, what IS an artist?

zuper  (about 7 years ago)

real interesting thoughts over here Lorri. I think just asking the question is a part of being an artist. Maybe an artist is not giving answers but is just trying to formulate good questions. So for me, you are an artist for sure :-)
I think everyone who's trying to create beauty can be called artist.

If I Love You

If I love you, you will know it.

I wonder when we got so careful with our feelings? As a society I mean. I wonder why we are so afraid to tell someone we care about them until they are lost to us. Then we mourn. We mourn because that's gone now, and there is no more chances to put it right.

I mean, what is the worst that could happen? We get rejected. So other than face a minute or two of exquisite embarrassment, we keep our mouths shut. You can't really die of embarrassment; if a person could, I would have died a thousand times already, and I'm only about half way through a life here.

I understand why we don't let fly all the time with the negative emotions. Those are often fleeting and can do untold damage merely because of a momentary lack of self control. But really, has a well intentioned "I love you" ever caused any real harm? "You matter to me" "I like how you do that?" Any big deal?

This year, I'm doing it better. If I love you, I'm going to let you know.

Happy yuletide everyone.

Gearing up

Things changed since my last release a little over a decade ago. So many choices, so many ways to self promote. And how odd is that? I come from an era where if you were seen as a braggart, you were bound to come into something bad. And it's still not at all comfortable to talk about the songs, the music. It feels like bragging. Worse, it feels like bragging about something I do not own. The songs just come. Often, they come with no warning and with no help from me at all. I'm happy to write them down and to try to learn to play them, but it feels odd to take credit for a process I have so little control over. I think the only thing I've learned to do over the years, is to stay out of the way of the song. To let it come in its own time and in its own way. And to support and promote and nurture it while the song finds its place in the universe. Weird yes?