Sometimes my dreams are unremarkable or incoherent, but other times, like last night, they are hyper-realistic and almost plausible.
In the first dream, I was with my cousin and her family. They are big into horses and riding competitions, so it was natural that I was there with them in their backyard (not really), which had a slight hill inclining up into the distance, with a chain-link labyrinth that wound on the flat and just at the bottom of the rise. They called this the ‘coaster’ and I pictured the poor horses running up and down hills and through loops and jumps. But no, it was only called that because of the hill and because of its design. The rows of fencing were just wide enough for one horse and rider to comfortably get through, with the turns being a little more open. This caused the horse to control its desire to buck or gallop, and made the rider take more control and be more careful and gentle with guiding the horse’s gait and direction. There were stretches of straight rows where picking-up speed was encouraged, then the rider had to rein the horse in when coming up to a sharp turn, and similar challenges were found where the ground was uneven, such as walking on the incline. It was very tricky, but it was obvious that my cousin’s daughter and her pony had done this hundreds of times and were enjoying it.
One bit of unrealistic dreaming: at one point, wings blurred out on the sides of her pony, and then were gone in the blink of an eye. Almost like something I wasn’t supposed to see; or rather, something no one else saw, but I could. “Pegasus!” I thought. And then it was gone and never came up again. Subconscious reminding me I was dreaming?! Who knows.
We went inside and my cousin’s husband was there, happy to see me. He said, “Will you be staying for …” but didn’t finish the sentence. “Ooh yes, he’ll love it!” they all cried. His son took me in the other room excited to show me this game everyone was playing (either I can’t remember the name, or it was never mentioned).
In the TV room, there were arrangements of small wooden squares everywhere. Not really piles or stacks, but displays of them, like periodic tables or mosaics all around the room in groups. They looked to be made of chip wood or really thin light-colored veneer, all blank on the one side showing. He turned on the TV as explanation, and there was a tournament going on. They were showing a super-cut of a lot of young men’s reactions (girls didn’t play this game?) of delight or despair as they won or lost a game. It was like something they would show in between games to keep the audience interested. It looked to be in a huge convention center – how had I never heard of this? One guy had all of the squares stuck to his shirt, arms and neck. He had lost, and in slow motion, we saw him pull a double-square from his neck. It had a blue splotch and some symbols in black that I couldn’t make out. He saw it and seemed to act as if that would have been the winning piece if only he had drawn it earlier. There were more short scenes like that, and then it switched to a station where you could buy the game set-up and the rules. Everyone was watching me and very excited for me to play, but I didn’t think I had the money for it, so I declined and went into the other room to lay down on a couch with a blanket. This is where I transitioned to the next dream.
*This is just some background on the next dream. You may have seen in one of my other posts that I used to work in the Music industry as an agent. One of the most fulfilling experiences came at a conference in Europe. My colleague and I had a booth, so tons of Artists would come up and drop off their CDs to be signed by us. There was a group of young singers without managers, labels or agents, that all paid their own way to come to the conference (not cheap). They were young, eager, personable and (I found out when I got home) immensely talented. Over the weekend, they would stop in when we were free to chat and ask advice. While being in Europe, and meeting with people I only got to see once a year, seeing great performances, and mixing with my colleagues from around the globe were all wonderful, it was this new experience of being mentors (in a small way) to these young Artists that gave me a renewed drive when I got back to the office. We helped them network and introduced them around during the cocktail hours, and I’ve been following their careers since.*
As I was on the couch, the non-distinct room turned into a reception room in a hotel. Behind me were high-top tables with groups around them talking, but I wasn’t paying attention. One of the young singers I knew walked in, gave me a hello kiss and swept over to the tables. It took me a minute to recognize him as I watched him go. Only then did I notice that I knew a lot of the people behind me. They were managers, musicians and producers. I had introduced him to some of them long ago, and now he was confident and expanding on that network. I made a mental note to go say hello to everyone.
As I turned around, I was still on a couch, but the TV and blanket were gone, and instead, there was a long row of tables running lengthwise away from me all the way to the lobby of the hotel. The tables were full of people talking and I recognized more industry people and some of my personal friends. From this table came another singer that I had talked to about her career (though I didn’t think she would go very far). I was happy for her because she was with two people that I understood to be her manager and an assistant. She had started her career, but still wanted advice. She came to me with a difficult and tricky question.
She had recently been diagnosed as HIV+. She hadn’t told anyone yet, because she had finally gotten her career going and she didn’t know if disclosing her status would ruin that, especially this early. She wanted to know if I thought her agency would drop her, since she was so new to them, and she didn’t want to throw any risk into such a new relationship. I told her that I had some ideas, but needed a moment. She went to the lobby to the restroom while I thought it out. (This was weird for me in a dream. I actually sat on the couch and had a mental conversation with myself for what seemed like several minutes.) she came back and I gave her two bits of advice:
1. As long as you give a good show, it doesn’t matter. Ultimately, your job as a singer is to perform your art for your own self-growth and for the enjoyment of others. If you are doing that, whatever is happening off the stage or out of the studio doesn’t matter (in your career), and therefore shouldn’t matter to your agent. Your manager is here supporting you, your agent should too, as well as your label.
2. Don’t let it define who you are as and Artist, unless that is what you want. Stevie Wonder, Diane Schuur, Ray Charles – what is the first thing you think of? A blind, piano playing singer; that is unavoidable. People notice that and (I’m sorry to say) exploit that. Obviously those three had the talent to excel, but they did use their disabilities to get noticed (or their people did) at first. Is that what you want? At a certain point, when does something move from being unique to becoming a novelty act? I understand the point of being an advocate, especially as a heterosexual female – that is still needed, but that is something you need to decide. My advice would be to be that advocate proudly in your life, but don’t change your performance. People will see that as an attempt to use your diagnosis for advancement, and you might be put in a niche that you can’t escape from. Being in jazz is enough of a niche! Think of the labels that follow people: gay comic, trans-gendered actress, plus-sized model, etc. Do you want to be known as ____, or ____, HIV+ singer. Have it be part of your story, but not your entire definition.
Two examples from Artists I’ve worked with:
I worked with a very well-known singer. She was well know by her fans for being a soulful singer, and she was well known by the industry for being extremely difficult. We put together a tour for her that met all of her demands (I can’t list them here, or it would be known who I was talking about, sorry!) but while she was on tour, she got nastier and nastier to us, to her musicians, and to our buyers. All the time, the fans loved her, and the reviews were great, but the horror stories coming in from the buyers were unforgivable. She was ruining relationships we had built, and for what purpose? When she refused to go on because she decided that she needed to be paid more money in cash right then (while her audience was sitting waiting for an already-late show), that was the last straw, and we dropped her. My point with this example is that as long as you are making your best art on stage or in the studio, and the audience is happy, it doesn’t matter what goes on in your life. People will put up with a lot if you have the talent to back-it-up. She is a bad example – don’t be like her, but you know what I’m saying. Also, we are talking about the Jazz world, not the world of “Beyonce had this for breakfast and you won’t believe what it was!”
I also worked with an Artist who had developed AIDS early in his career, and long before I worked with him. He chose to be an advocate, and even wrote some beautiful pieces about his struggles and health issues. It was part of his story, and it became part of his act, but not all of it. He knows that his diagnosis does not define him, though it does limit him, physically, unfortunately. He was a great musician before and continues to be a great musician now, that’s what really defines him. Another thing you will need to contend with is the prejudice of the buyer. We have come a very long way, socially, but misunderstandings still exist. You will have buyers that will put extra clauses in contracts regarding cancellations due to illness. They will think twice about the money they are willing to spend if there is a worry that they will lose it if you catch a cold and can’t perform, especially at this point in your career. Be careful.
She thanked me for my advice and went off. I walked over to say hello to the tables in the back, but that’s when I woke.
I am not too happy with some of the advice I gave her, to be honest. I didn’t explain it in the right way, and looking at it here, it comes across as harsh and that I’m telling her to hide. That wasn’t it at all. I wanted to tell her to know what she was up against.
I often go to bed with the hope that my dreams will help me to find the path I’m supposed to be on to find my next career. The second dream reminded me what I liked from my last job, while highlighting my desire to mentor and help others. It was also in a hotel. I had a second interview earlier this week at one hotel and have a first interview at a different one next week. Who knows where these things come from?
As for the first dream? I don’t know. Maybe I need to make that game. And see my cousin’s family more.
“Ask Me – I’m a Local”
It was pouring rain, cold, and windy. Because of the weather, most of the street vendors had cancelled, so I didn’t have to stand in the cold rain at 7:15am, but I did keep my shift at the booth. I struggled to find an outfit that was fun, but also weatherproof. I settled on a polyester “Beetlejuice” suit I had in the closet from a 
While it was technically past Halloween, the crowds still came on Saturday, perhaps because of the weather that week. It was clear, but chilly. I wore the Ambassador Witch hat and socks, but with long johns and a thick wool pea coat.
Small Stuff 