Can you really 'return' HOME?

Hello blog readers. Who are you?

I started really writing this blog about 3 years ago when I decided to move to Los Angeles and pursue a singing career. This blog was a companion during that crazy transition in my life and for a while there I was writing in it every day. As the journey in LA thickened and twisted and turned in wild places, I sort of lost touch with the blog. But it has always been there as an outlet of creative expression and thought. And sometimes I really need that. Sometimes I can't write in my own journal. Or even call a friend. Or even say out loud how I'm feeling. But somehow when i write it down in this forum, it eases that need to express what's churning. In my guts.

There's a lot churning in my guts right now. And I haven't been able to write a song. Or a poem. Or perform. Or anything like that. I've just been pushing onwards towards the inevitable departure. I'm moving on June 1st. And that is really fucking soon. I'm leaving LA to move back to Cambridge, MA.

It's weird to write that. I wonder what that 'return' to the east means to some of you out there. Maybe it means giving up. Maybe it means I've come to my senses. Maybe you're nodding your heads because you've been there. But it means something very personal and poignant to me. I came out to Los Angles to follow my dreams. But the funny thing is, I didn't quite know what my dreams were at the time. I discovered them while I was here. And it is those very dreams and values that I discovered that are calling me back east.

I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz or Alice after she went down the rabbit hole. I had no idea all along that what I wanted most in the world was right in front of me. Family. Friends. A creative community. Home. What I wanted to find was me. And I've found that. Now I'm ready to return to my roots.

I guess you truly need to leave home to realize what home is to you. And I know you have to pursue your dreams, even your inclings of dreams, in order to find your purpose and true calling in life. It's funny that the answer to these quests is never what you thought it would be. You may pursue a dream of fame and fortune, and find out that your fortune lives in something much deeper than the material world.

I never imagined, for instance, that my quest to share my voice in a professional capacity would lead me to teaching voice and theater to kids. I had no idea this was to be my path. And yet, I landed in the job. And it changed my life forever.

I bow to LA. Eternally. I could sit in namaste to LA for HOURS UPON HOURS for the gifts this city has given me. My sobriety. My songs. My career. My friends and LA family. The gratitude I feel is overwhelming. And the sadness to leave is there too. Just under the surface of my eyes. It's been peaking out in LA traffic a lot lately when I'm alone and thinking about how much I love my life here.

But there is a season for everything. There is a season to go out into the wilderness and hunt and gather and gain all the knowledge you possibly can, and then there is a season to return home and hibernate and huddle in close with your family and use what you have learned to survive the next season. That is where I am right now. I need to be near my family.

And I'm ready. I'm ready to show up for them. To give of my time and talents to them, whenever they need me. I took a lot during my 20s. I sucked out all the marrow that life had to offer! And I'm glad I did. I sewed my wild oats and was as selfish as can be. It was marvelous. Now I'm ready to be a part of the whole. To contribute.

We only get one chance in life. And when you have an epiphany on a sunny patio in Santa Fe. And all the cells in your being are pointing in a certain direction. And your creative mind runs wild with the possibilities. And your heart leaps. And you soul sits cross legged in a serene happy gesture, as if to say, "yes."

You better get your ass off that chair and follow the direction that just hit you in your forehead like a ray of sunshine. Sometimes the universe says 'go.' And sometimes it shouts, "GO!"

I can't pretend to know what's on the other side of this transition. Who knows what the real purpose of me moving back east is. Who knows that will happen. But I know that I'm ready to show up for my life. Like never before. I'm excited about who I've turned out to be. And I'll never say 'good-bye' to LA. I'll always say, "Until next time."

Follow the blog as I road trip back home!!! Starting on June 1st!

xo
f

What comes first The Single Songs or The Single Life?

Good morning folks,

I've been sitting in a Starbucks since 5:30am. Apparently Rite Aid and Walgreen's aren't open 24 hours in shitty neighborhoods in LA, so I found myself here at the butt crack of dawn. My street is closed from 6am to 6pm, so I really had no choice. Meaning, I figured it was too much of a hassle to park my car on another street and walk back to my place last night. What has LA done to me!

But that is not what I want to blog about this morning. I've been thinking about what comes first. The chicken or the egg. And not in the universal essence of everything kind of way. I mean in this way. Do you write ridiculous songs about stupid dating experiences and THEN become single for long periods of time, or are you single for long periods of time and THEN write quirky dumb songs about your experience.

In the process of turning one's experience into art - does one BECOME the art? Does the experience begin to define them? Does the art become life?

Like if I'm 2Pac, the real guy, not the hologram, and I'm writing songs about how I'm going to die young - is that pretty much why I die young?

Because if so, that SUCKS! And I need to start writing songs about how in love I am and how me and my man are going to be together forever and how we're so inlove that I even love the smell of his armpit.

As you all may or may not have noticed, I write songs about love a lot. When I'm in love, I have no problem writing songs about that feeling and it's great! Here is one of those songs, click on it! The download is free:

I've Got a Love

But the thing is most of the time, I'm single. And I write songs about what I'm experiencing. Disappointment, hilarious dates, romantic interludes with sweets, getting stood up, etc.

Here is one of those songs

These songs are a great comfort to me and to my audience I think as well. I perform them out live and we all have a good laugh at our shared experience. Or we all have a good laugh at my expense. I'm not sure which one it is, but I'm pretty sure it's a knowing laugh. We've all been there. But do I stay there longer because I'm creating these lasting pieces of music on the youtubes? Are the songs becoming my identity?

Am I that snarky, quirky girl who has a silly take on love that will never find love so I can keep writing those kinds of songs? BARF! I'll get so bored of that. And I think you will too. Are we already bored of that?

I'm ready to write another love album. I was falling in love/in love when I wrote a lot of The Casio Tapes. The same goes for the period I was writing half of the songs on my demo. Love inspires writers! It always has. But I guess so does pain.

But here's the thing. I just haven't been writing much lately. I need some fodder. Some love fodder. And I don't feel desperate for a boyfriend. I guess I just want to shake my inner artist up! I need a muse! ... After listening to my songs, what poor sap would volunteer for that job?! Um, no one. But that is one of the trade offs of dating a songwriter. You get to be a muse, you get to be immortalized in song, and you also might not really enjoy that experience in the end. sorry!

But back to my point. Which comes first. I think, therefore I am. Or I am, therefore I think. I'm single because I write single girl folk songs, or I write single girl folk songs because Im single at the moment.

I think I'm going to go with the latter. Art reflects life. And sometimes it's the other way around. But in general, if you are living in the moment, you are reacting to your experience not creating it. I would like to think that I'm that powerful to rule the winds and all, but I know I'm not. The Secret lied. We do not create our existence. But we definitely create our experience of reality. Which is where the art comes in to save the day, actually!

ART redefines our experience of what is! It can make the dull look crazy beautiful. It can make the most painful experience light and happy! For me it takes my perspective on shit and gives it a 180. Here is the perfect example.

I met this guy in Santa Fe last year who I was totally into right off the bat. It was one of those very lustful meetings. Our eyes met and I felt it in my groin. It was very "Fifty Shades of Grey." We liked each other. But of course, I lived in LA and he lived in Santa Fe. So we skyped and sort of had some fantasy about getting together and my obsessive mind totally ran with it and to our wedding day. I was convinced this guy was like IT! Well, we never ended up coming together. Of course. He sort of fell off the face of the planet and then we ran into each other in an airport and I thought it was fate and then he stood me up. TWICE. I was sort of heart broken. But I managed to talk about it with my friends and make A LOT of fun of him, which made the hurt a little less. This guy was obsessed with...TIBET. And yoga. And trail running. So here you go. My dear friend Lauren sat down and wrote out some hilarious lyrics for me, I wrote the tune, we collaborated on smushing them together, and we laughed our asses off! And voila! My pain was morphed into a delightful song! And now whenever I think of this guy, I'm reminded of the song more than the experience, and I LAUGH. That is art creating a new reality. A reality that I love and enjoy.

Here is the song. And I guess I just answered my own question. I doesn't really matter which one comes first. I'm just grateful that the songs I write LAST and last, and the pain of the experience never does. :)

No Coffee? No. coffee. NO COFFEE!!!!!!

Good morning, morning.

I'm in mourning.

I am feeling the loss of a dear, dear friend. Coffee.

If any of you have read my blog over the years, you know I love it. There have been blogs about it. I have always been very grateful for it. And I most likely am completely addicted to it.

Now, all of you with a cup of Joe in your hands right now are going, what's the problem? It's still here, have a delicious cup! It's easy. And so good. Yes, it is. And eff off!

I have recently been instructed by a highly respected and awesome Chinese doctor (who I believe knows the force) that if I want to heal my immune system and stop getting sick all the time (thanks snotty kids at my school) I need to cleanse my diet. That means, yup!

No. Coffee.

"If I can't take my coffee break, something within me DIES."

I ON THE OTHER HAND DO NOT FEEL LIKE SINGING AND DANCING ABOUT IT.

This is hard. I haven't had coffee since Saturday morning. I've got the headaches, I've got the cravings, I've got the crabbies. And to be honest, rather than making me really want a cup of coffee right now (which I do), it more strongly freaks me out.

Am I really that addicted to this stuff? And what are the health benefits or risks of drinking multiple cups of it a day? I don't think it's actually that good for you. And I'm realizing for SURE, that caffeine is a drug. And it's one we all accept and love and partake in.

I wonder if a few years down the road coffee will turn into another 'substance' that people abuse and go to 12 step programs to recover from. Will the coffee drinking age be 18? It probably should be if it 'stunts your growth.' And isn't that a terrifying concept.

What is this brown liquid that I have completely worshipped and consumed everyday for the past 10 years at least!??

I fell in love with coffee in the most addictive way when I was a Starbucks barista after college. The starbucks culture actually demands that you become a coffee-head and know everything about the different kinds of beans and flavors etc. We also got 'employee drinks.' Which means we drank coffee our entire 8 hour shift. I would be so jacked and tired after my shift at Starbucks that I HAD to smoke a joint. ... kidding. sort of. Well, that habit I did away with a while ago, but the coffee has stuck with me.

And apparently it has stuck to my kidneys and my stomach and actually harmed my health - and my energy levels and immune system. Who knew!!!!

I feel a little betrayed, Coffee. I thought we were buddies. You were my comfort, my pick me up! If I was down - a little bit of you always did the trick. You grounded my mornings with our little ritual. You capped off my meals in a sophisticated and delicious, euro way. And now, you have hurt my insides.

Well, I guess its that old rule - everything in moderation. But if you cannot moderate your intake of coffee and caffeine, I guess the answer is to detox off the shit until you can again. So here I am, in detox. And it blows.

I've been drinking juice and water and tea. And I'm sorry, Coffee, but I do actually already feel better. Randomly, my energy is more steady throughout the day. I don't feel a crash. I feel....sort of good. Despite the cravings.

So the great experiment continues. Will my divorce from my beloved coffee actually increase the quality of my life???

To be continued...

Writer's block, shmiter's block.

Morning!

A quick blog today. I'm listening to Paul Simon's "Graceland," one of my all time favorite albums, and it never fails to put me in a splendid mood! I want to write a little bit about creativity today.

I've often got 'stuck' creatively. For instance, I haven't written much of a song in the last couple months - maybe even more. I've written bits and pieces here and there - but I've been walking around with this sort of scowl on my face claiming writer's block. Today I had an idea.

Maybe there is no writer's block. If creativity comes from an unlimited source, which I believe it does, is it ever really going to just stop, cold turkey. Like sorry, writer, Creativity is on a smoke break, he's not coming back for a few days. No way! Creativity is constantly flowing through the universe and through people! How else would great art be made every single day! And beautiful music. And astounding buildings! And life changing, revolutionary ideas! People are tapping into creativity - this unlimited river that's just gushing non-stop through our lives.

So how do we experience creative droughts? Well, I think it comes from a lack of imagination. Very often I put my 'creative self' in a box. I say to my ego, "You're a song writer. That is what you do creatively, so if you're not going to write a song today, you lazy bastard, tough luck! You don't get to hang with Creativity. That's the only way to go." Well, immediately my inner rebel says, "Fuck off!" I can't write a song today, a song isn't coming!!! So I'm screwed.

Here is the issue. We limit the role creativity can play in our lives. We say, I'm a visual artist. Or I'm a drummer. Or I'm a graphic designer. Or even worse, I'm NOT creative! By putting this part of our brains and souls in a teeny tiny box, we are suffocating it. We are limiting the joy that creativity can bring to our lives! We are rejecting creativity in a way, because it is not coming to us in the way we would like.

Because of my so-called writers block lately, I've had to, by necessity, open up my mind to other ideas - other possibilities for creativity in my life. I've had some amazing experiences with it so far! I've found myself randomly at The Huntington taking a series of photos for a day by myself.

I've had 2 random cooking sessions with my Mom over skype, one where we had a plan, and the other were we completely 'improved' with what we had in the kitchen. It was a ball! And tasty! I found myself brainstorming story ideas with a screen-writing duo in my living room. We laughed out asses off. And then last night my brother and I made an outline for a sitcom/webisode we are going to write and star in. I've started blogging again, meditating, and rolling with the creative flow when I'm teaching class. My life is FULL of creativity, and I haven't written any songs!

So who am I to judge where the creativity is flowing. It's like trying to desperately hold on to a tiny twig on the side of a flowing river instead of letting go and floating with the rapids. Joy joy joy!!!! The joy of the creative spirit. It's a beautiful thing.

This is one of my favorite theories on creativity by an amazing writer, Elizabeth Gilbert. If you're feeling any sort of blockage in your life: at work, with your art, in the bedroom, etc. WATCH THIS. I saw it about 4 years a go and her message has always stuck with me. xoxoxo

A simple routine

Good Morning,

I guess this is my first blog entry for 2012. Maybe it goes to show how much blogs have become irrelevant in 2012. I don't know! I have no idea what's in store for this crazy cyber world of ours. But I felt the urge to write today. So here we are.

My grandfather turned 85 on Saturday. I had a little conversation with him and sang to him on the phone. He said he had heard that I've been stressed at work through the grapevine. He suggested breathing with the abdomen. slowly. throughout the day. That is what he was learning at this mind/body/spirit clinic. Pa is 85 and he's still a seeker! Still looking for a way to live life with meaning and serenity. I tried his suggestion and it worked. We also talked about the importance of health and routine. My grandparents know a lot about this.

For what seems to be about 50 years they have woke up early - around 5:30 or 6:00 am, eaten the same breakfast (I think it's some sort of fiber cereal), and then exercised. My Grandfather has walked to work for 25 years, and he's still doing it, even though he's fallen many times. They are creatures of some wonderful habits. And I can see how it has grounded them. They know about routine, commitment, loyalty, and unconditional love. They are in their 80s and they're probably healthier than I am.

So I woke up on the earlier side this morning, (after pushing snooze 3 times), warmed up the espresso machine, and rolled out the yoga mat. I did about 45 minutes of yoga and weights and abs. It felt amazing. Then I meditated for 10 minutes. Drank my espresso. Ate a leftover bread stick from Nicki D's (cold). Took a shower. And started writing this. I feel ... grounded this morning. Happy. !!

But the second I try to tell myself that I should do this every morning - my entire body recoils in horror. What about sleeping in? Weekends? What if I'm tired? What about an earthquake? I do not warm easily to the idea of routine and commitment. The very meaning of my name, Frances, is "Free one." I'm like a freaking hippie who wants to be able to run with the breeze and pick effing wild flowers every day - pick up and move in a heartbeat - follow an attractive drum beat to the source, blah blah blah. At least this is how I like to think I am.

But the funny thing of it is, that kind of living doesn't actually make me happy. It makes me feel rootless, uncertain and shallow. My need to protect my freedom and unattachment to the world - actually makes me feel alone and directionless.

I once read on a Starbucks coffee cup of all places, that the irony of commitment is that it makes you free. I feel like I'm learning that slowly but surely in my adult life. More and more and more choices do not a happy human make. Knowing where home is, grounding your material self with commitments I think actually gives your soul the freedom to LOVE & BE LOVED. Learning how to care for things and people though the good, bad, and the ugly only comes with commitment and routine. You think my grandparents were completely stoked every single day of their 60 something years together to wake up at 6 am and do it all over again?

Probably not. But they are content with the choices they have made. Because they committed to them - and the debating society in their head was silenced. That ever chattering doubting brain - got to shut up for a while. And they were able to enjoy. At least, that's how I see it.

I've made a few commitments in my adult life that I'm very happy about. They don't exactly make me happy every day of my life, but they ground me. They give me the freedom to explore my heart and soul in a safe place. I end up finding that being myself is good enough when I give places and people enough time to know me. The joy of living isn't necessarily found in the heightened experiences - the holidays, life changing moments, adventures, etc. Sure, I've found it there before. But that inner stillness, that quiet joy that makes you smile from your insides out - comes during the mundane moments. The simplistic beauty of just life. That is where I have found the most joy!

I've found it today. Sitting quietly, taking a shower, showing up for life. I guess I could do whatever I wanted today. I could drive to Vegas and blow it all, if I chose to. But I choose my life today. Because I know that there is an amazing freedom in the structure I've built for myself. And I'm all in!

It's 2012! Nothing's gonna stop us now!

Happy Effing New Year!

It's 9:21pm eastern standard time. I'm in my pajamas on my grandparents' couch, belly full of homemade hor'dourves and treats I made with my mom, heart full of laughs and stories from the family board games, body and eyes tired from the day. I'm pretty much ready for bed. A lot may not change in a year, but a lot changes over the years. That's for damn sure! A few years ago I wouldn't have been caught dead on a couch at 9:21pm on New Year's Eve, and if I was, I was either passed out or feeling horribly sorry for myself. Tonight I am neither of those things. I'm just content. I feel grateful and pretty happy...and older. I feel older. I guess that is a given with each coming year, we will age. Hopefully we'll learn something new. But we will most definitely get a few more wrinkles and aches & pains. Tonight, I'm ok with that, because I don't feel as dumb as I used to be. Amen.

I was sitting across from my 80 year old grandparents tonight. They've lived through 80 New year's eve celebrations. I asked them which one was the most memorable. They didn't bat an eye. They both had the same answer, without a doubt, 1947. I asked what they were doing that night, way back when. They had been invited to an old navy friend's party in Newton, MA. Pa knew the guy from the war, but neither of them knew any of the other people at the party. His date, Lois, my Bre, didn't know anyone either, so they decided to sit out on the front porch and talk. They sat out there all night long, falling in love, and dreaming about their future together. They hoped they would have a nice house with a porch like his friend's someday. Everything seemed possible. They were starkly awake and intoxicated with each other and their dreams. Soon after that, they got married, and 65 years later, here they are cozied up next to each other, just as in love as ever. Maybe not as optimistic and naive, but still as sweet on each other and as hopeful as they were that night in 1947.

We played the board game Apples to Apples and they couldn't help but choose each other's cards, over and over. They got a kick out of it. How they're brains work the same way. How much they enjoy helping the other win. I truly believe the dreams that they had that night in 1947 came true. It's awesome.

I may not be on a porch counting the stars and falling in love tonight, but I feel just as hopeful. I feel that the future is bright! I have hopes and dreams, and I finally know what they are. I have a vision of what I would like my life to be, and it makes me happy. That's progress. The future looks mighty grand when you've learned who you are and have decided to get out of your own way! Literally nothing is impossible in 2012. NOTHING! I don't believe that the universe is here to serve my beck & call, but I believe that it is not standing in my way. I am the only thing that can do that, and I'm over that game.

2012 can be the year that the stars align. Why not? What's stopping them?

It could also be the year that shit hits the fan. Why not? What's stopping it!

But either way, I can meet the new year with hope in my heart. I can be open to new experiences. I can give up my old ideas and habits and meet the dawn like a 19 year old on a porch step, falling in love for the first time, anticipating the adventure of the coming year!

An open letter to Santa. by Fran Betlyon

Dear Santa,

It's been a long time since we talked. I'm sorry about that. I'm 30 now, and I sort of stopped believing in you like...20 years ago. I was pretty hurt back then when I found out you were not real. It seriously messed up my shit for awhile. I was like, wait, what about the Easter bunny? Tooth fairy? God????? Anyway, I've been through a lot since then, and I've sort of come to my senses. You're real as shit, and I've been really good this year, and I want a lot of stuff!

I know what you're thinking, there were those couple of fights with my siblings, a few white lies here and there, TONS of complaining and swearing sprinkled in. But let's get real, Santa, I did awesome this year! I know your elves would agree. So here is my list of things, not necessarily in order, that I am requesting for Christmas. This work/reward idea is brilliant! I've worked my ass off to be a good person - so it's time to reap the benefits! Here we go, Santa. Settle in with some cookies and a glass of room temp milk, cuz it's a long one.

1. I want all of my bills to be paid, come Christmas morning - this includes car PAID OFF and back taxes from last year.

2. An entirely new wardrobe specifically suited for my environment, job, social life, and current trends

3. A new car without scratches from past drunk & tired driving side swipes

4. Cleaning service for a year

5. To meet, marry, and procreate with a wonderful, hot man who does not interfere with my life in any way whatsoever

6. My songs to be picked up for a publishing deal and placed in various awesome and trendy shows, movies, and commercials

7. To fall into a lot of money because of said placements and be able to do whatever I want whenever I want ALL THE TIME

8. To be super fit and sporty and hot without any fat on my tummy or upper arms

9. For all of my family to live close by, but somehow not be in each other's business

10. For all of my friends to have success and love - all in the same year - all at the same time

(while I'm having it too)

11. HEALTH INSURANCE

12. A trip to India

13. A trip to Italy

14. A trip to England

15. A trip to France

16. A trip to Hawaii

17. A trip to Antarctica (Where you live)

18. A cute dog exactly like my former Dog, Dolly, but who doesn't shit, piss or whine

19. A disease free family - healthy, happy, and living forever!

20. A peaceful world

21. Socks that never get lost ( this can be a stocking stuffer)

22. Confidence and compassion

23. The ability to play AMAZING guitar and piano

24. A new coffee pot

25. Sessions with a life coach who knows exactly the right decisions for me to make at exactly the right times and helps me go through with it

26. Cadbury chocolate

Thank you so much for reading my list, Santa. I always thought it was really cool that you took the time to sit down and read and care about what each little child in the world desired. I know my heart was warmed as a kid knowing that I was cared for so unconditionally. I realize you may not be able to do any of these things for me. I'm a realist. I'm an adult. These are some pretty crazy and out there requests. But you're fucking Santa!

I BELIEVE IN YOU!

I'll be waiting up on Christmas Eve. I've never caught you before, but I'm a freaking grown up now, so you better be sneaky, because I'm going to have all the spy gear and bases covered! And I'm going to leave you home made cookies and organic milk - and some coffee, cause I get it, you're tired!

I love you Santa. Have a Merry Christmas. And thanks for listening.

-Fran