My original goal in taking on this project was to explore more of the Hudson Valley. But in the end, the real gift of this project was an augmented awareness of how every day does bring new experiences, whether you focus on them or not. And if you intentionally invite new, wonderful experiences into your day, there’s a very good chance they’ll show up.

On Day 29, my new experience was going to the weekly Friday Nite Jam Session at Stephen Crawford’s place in Olivebridge. My bon vivant Mark and I have been meaning to go for weeks and weeks, and we haven’t been able to make it for one reason or another. But not this Friday! We google-mapped the address and headed out to Olivebridge.

Stephen has a great stage set up in his spacious backyard. When we arrived, there was an eclectic mix of musicians already jamming. Mark set up his amp and guitar, grabbed a homemade brew (Stephen and Dona make their own beer) and joined the jam. In a matter of minutes, I was headed back to the car because I was getting devoured by mosquitos. They LOVE me, those obnoxious intruders of lovely summer nights. And when I get bit by one, the bite always swells up to the size of crimson baseball, so I had to take cover.

But I could still hear the music from the car, and it was so wonderful to hear Mark play, something I haven’t had the pleasure of for serveral months now.

We got totally lost on the way home (yet another new experience) mostly due to the fact that we were way out in the boonies and the roads in New York are so poorly marked. What’s with that? Is it really so hard to put up a street sign every once in a while so you know what road you’re on? Anyway, we did eventually make it home.

Saturday was Day 30, and it, too, was full of new experiences. Remember Gabe from Monkey Joe’s? He was part of my new experience on Day 16? Well, on Saturday morning, he and his longtime musical partner were playing at Monkey Joe’s in honor of the roasting company’s 10 year anniversary. They call their duo “The Morning Howlers.” After hearing some of Gabe’s original tunes on Day 16, I didn’t want to miss his performance. Here’s a clip of one of his originals:

Later that same day, my friends Peter Wetzler and Julie Hedrick were having a little open house featuring Julie’s new series of paintings, so Mark and I wandered over around 6:00 pm or so. Their home, which used to be the chapel and rectory of one of Kingston’s many churches (Kingston is a city of churches; I swear they must have more churches per capita than any other city in the world), was a’buzz with people, sipping wine, eating blue cheese and looking at Julie’s vibrant, stunning new paintings featuring the color red.

Peter, Julie’s husband, is a talented composer who mostly writes film scores now. A bit of a crazy kook, Peter  dressed up in a black kilt and red tie for the occassion. Here’s a photo of Peter with Mark Marshall, another talented composer. Doesn’t Peter have lovely legs? Why wouldn’t he show them off?

We’ve been to other gatherings and Peter and Julie’s, and every time, we meet some wonderful people. This evening was no exception. New people, new paintings, new experiences!

On Day 31, yesterday, I rested. A lot. Lazy morning, big bacon-and-eggs breakfast, the Sunday New York Times, a little nap. What was new? Well, around 1:00 or 2:00 pm, Mark and I opened a bottle of Schramsburg Sparkling Wine, and chilled out for the rest of the afternoon, watching an old movie, eating popcorn. Afternoon champagne was a definite first for us, and the perfect end to this 31-day project.

Simple, quiet days can still bring new experiences, and sometimes, they’re the best. Like afternoon movies with champagne. Or watching the squirrels eat the cashews we threw on the deck. Just noticing something you haven’t noticed before or seeing it from a totally new perspective.

It’s been a great 31-day project. So great, I’m starting a NEW one! Stay tuned.

Something happened last night. Something that shifted me into a new place and allowed me to relocate a part of myself I’ve been missing since I moved to New York.

I got to sing in public.

Jazz guitarist Dennis Winge, whom I’ve just started to work with a little, invited me to sit in at his regular Friday night gig at Isabella’s in Ossining. So, my friend Mark and I drove down last night, in spite of the fact I had had an emotionally exhausting day and felt ambivalent about everything, including my ability to sing in any kind of remotely decent manner.

But I knew I had to go, no matter how I felt. I had to stand up and sing in public in this strange new land I live in: the Hudson Valley of New York. I had to claim myself as a singer here, to start somewhere, in this small, under-the-radar way. My fear was that I’d buckle in on myself, that the heavy emotions of the day and the intense vulnerability left in its wake would consume me, drag me under, and I’d sing badly, then fall apart.

But when we got to Isabella’s, a small, brightly lit Italian restaurant (with really good pasta, by the way), I knew I’d be okay. Dennis was sitting and playing at the far end of the restaurant. Mark and I joined Dennis’s wonderful wife, Caroline, and their son, Max, who were sitting at a table up front. There was hardly anyone in the restaurant; the place was so quiet. Except for Max, who would break out into loud, joy-filled screams every so often.

I won’t bore you with the whole story. I’ll just say that I got to sit in twice, singing a total of three songs, and it felt great. I sang well, felt anchored in each song, and got to connect with sweet people sitting at the table on the right. And this simple act of of standing up in front of any kind of audience, large or small, attentive or distracted, reconnected me to a part of myself I’d been missing, the part that hasn’t had a chance to show up since I got to New York. The part of me that loves making music and sharing it with an audience.

Sure, I had that guest spot in Jason Britton’s show in New York City back in July, which was an honor. But to be honest, I didn’t sing so well then. I was disappointed in my performance. But last night, I did okay. And now to have found this amazing guitarist to work with, after searching in vain for a pianist, well, I feel like more of me has found its way to the Hudson Valley, that I pushed through the membrane of geographical resistance, and now, now, it all starts.

And the moving van will be here in an hour. Or so they say.

I’ve moved to New York. Upstate New York. About 2 hours north of my new love, New York City. Why am I living here instead of IN the City? Money, mostly. Can’t afford even a shared apartment in Brooklyn, much less Manhattan.

But I must say, now that I’ve been in the city of Kingston for 11 days now, I believe I’m here for other reasons beside cheap rent. It’s a City in desperate need of new energy. And new money. And while I don’t pretend to have even a meager supply of either, I believe in the potential of this place. And others do, too.

Besides, the Hudson Valley rocks. It’s got Woodstock. Bard College. The Omega Institute. Bethel Woods. There is a thriving (though seemingly underground) music/art/techno-geek community up here. And I can’t wait to sniff ‘em all out!

Shoot, kd lang is performing here this month so I can’t be too far out in the sticks, can I?

I haven’t had much time to explore outside the city yet. My car arrived 4 days ago, and I’ve been working a lot at my copywriting biz, which is good. Very good. And, despite what reason tells me, I’m exploring the possibility of representing a handful of local musicians, helping them get gigs, exposure and more publicity. Should be LOTS of money in that!

But for now, I’m waiting for the 80 boxes, desk, bed, chair, dresser, etc. that’s about to show up at my door.