While I was in Nashville working, my wee boy turned three. No guilt trips, please. I am still wrenching from having had to leave him at 9am on his birthday, don't worry.

Two cakes for the birthday boy. I baked and frosted from scratch, but had no energy left to paint ships and submarines. Instead, we printed out some images and put them on with toothpicks.

We didn't do a big bash, but some family came up from Texas to have a taco party. It was going to be a Dragons Love Tacos birthday party, but at some point the Wee Boy decided he needed to have another Yellow Submarine birthday cake. Then he also wanted a "Captain Ahab's Pequod Big Ship" cake, and because that is the cutest request ever, I baked him two cakes. I mean, how can you say no to a 3-year-old in a dragon costume?


The boy wore his dragon costume all the day long, just like you should when you're turning three. He played with the neighbor and opened some big gifts from grandparents. We got him two apple trees -- exactly what he asked for. I swear, this perfect little boy wants a Moby Dick cake and apple trees as a present. Could he be any cuter?












To stick with the taco party theme, I also cut out bunch of new cloth napkins with some festive Day of the Dead and Chili Peppers prints for all to use. (I absolutely despise paper napkins and paper towels for so many reasons -- another blog about that someday.) Anyway, it was a fun afternoon and kinda-sorta made up for the guilt I still feel about missing his actual birthday. Next year, NO WORK ON BIRTHDAYS!

Stitchfix! I have been really bad about updating you on my fixes (and about everything on the blog. New Season's resolution: be consistent here). I've gotten three new ones since I last checked in, but one was all the way back in February before my United Kingdom tour. Another was an accidental shipment (or rather, I totally forgot it was coming, and therefore forgot to update my style profile or let my stylist know what I needed). Even though summer technically ended last week, I'm going to review my most recent summer shipment. If you'd like to sign up to try out your own personal stylist, pretty please use this link? I get a credit towards my next fix, and that would make it seem like I make money on my blog. It would also make me happy.

To remind you: I hate shopping. I'm also not really interested in style or the latest trends. I love pretty dresses and cowboy boots. I love bootcut jeans and vintage t-shirts. I don't work in an office, so I don't have to wear business casual (whatever that means). To be honest, 95% of my wardrobe for the past 15 years consists of hand-me-downs (albeit really nice hand-me-downs) or Goodwill finds. I didn't know I liked "boho" until I filled out the style profile and was apparently drawn to that stuff.

Anyway...

I will spoil the blog and tell you straight up that I kept everything. This was on the heels of me returning everything in a previous box, so it's not always a bullseye. I think the key is making sure you give your stylist enough feedback on previous shipments and regularly update your style profile.

For this box I was after some specific pieces, so I made sure to add a note. I decided this was the summer to upgrade my summer wardrobe. I generally rotate 3 sundresses and 3 swimsuits with a few knit tank tops. I asked my stylist to give me some tank tops appropriate for walking in the Kentucky heat that weren't Old Navy knits. This fix arrived on my birthday, so I also asked for something festive.

My stylist sent 3 sleeveless shirts, none of which I would have ever picked up off a rack in a department store. David, my trusty husband and the stylish one of the two of us, loved each of them and insisted I keep them. I wasn't sure, but my husband will be looking at them more than I will.

First was a white collared tank with black polka dots. It had a very rockabilly feel, and the knot in front was actually cute and not loud at all like I was expecting. Who knew?

Next up was a multi-colored but mainly pink tank top that flowed very nicely and had a super cute zipper in the back, not to mention blue ribbons for straps. I liked this one because I don't have to wear a bra with it, but it still seems a step or two up from my usual go-to-tanks. I paired this (I learned to use the phrase "paired with" from my stylist's postcard, which, by the way, always has too many exclamation points) with nice jeans and a necklace, and I looked like I was actually put-together.

The next shirt was another multicolored tank. I loved the turquoise straps, and David just thought it looked great. "Yep, keep it."(I'm pretty sure he was actually interested rather than just trying to get the Fashion Show over with.)























Another specific request was a "loose-fitting summer dress a step up from my usual knit strapless sundress." We walk everywhere, so I needed something that I wouldn't sweat through by the end of the block. I believe David's comment upon seeing this was, "Buy one of those in every color." It is super flattering, has nice detail, nice enough to wear to a cocktail party, but somehow unbelievably comfortable.


The fifth item surprised me: it was a purse. I recently unchecked the "don't send me handbags" option, but had forgotten I'd done it. For most of the last 37 years, I've carried a Crown Royal bag with my wallet in it. I've really been trying to get into purses since the Wee Boy was born and, you know, act like a grown up and say "paired with" and stuff. This bag is a nice addition. The color is bright enough for summer, but warm enough for autumn. I love the secret compartment on the flap -- perfect size for my Kindle or Moleskin. Purses aren't something I ever think about when I'm shopping, so it was really nice that someone else chose it for me. It was more than I would have paid (though still less than fifty bucks), but I got a 25% discount for buying all five items.

All in all, a great fix. I still love that I would never have chosen any of these items if I were picking clothes off a rack in the store. It's not always a home run, but it's fun, exciting, and totally worth it to not have to bother or waste my time at the mall. I think my favorite part of all is that I never have to hem dresses or pants -- it's in my profile that I'm a shorty.

Anyway, if you're at all interested, give it a shot. There is a $20 styling fee for each box of clothes, but it is credited towards buying the items (so you get the money back if you buy even one item). I swear one of these days I'll post photos of me in the clothes.

Tyra, if you're still reading this, then I still want to challenge you to a local StitchFix box;) I am sure you'd be better than my stylist.

Also: If anyone local to Louisville is reading, Wednesday & Saturday Morning this week means FAMILY MUSIC JAM at Mama's Hip! 1559 Bardstown Road. 10:30am. no signup required. Only $10/family. Best deal in town, and a trained teacher/musician:) 

Don Henley at the Ryman. This one's for my dad.

It's been a week. Some sad family things that I'm not going to write about on the blog (believe it or not, I don't actually tell you everything that is going on in my life). Some happy family things. Some things that have compelled me to be contemplative and keep to myself. It's not particularly good timing, but then when is it ever?

I'm down in Nashville for the first time in so many years. Five maybe? I can't recall. I used to come down here once a week, do session work, write songs with people, play utility man in bands, go to Loser's at 2pm and find accordion work. Nashville (and 90% of the people here) seems to have had its teeth whitened a few times since then, and I barely recognize the place. Buildings and storefronts have come and gone since the 2007 era (remember that season of Nashville Star when I was a semi-finalist? Ha ha, I had forgotten too! Hey, lookie at that list, Kacey Musgraves was a semi-finalist too that year.).

But Noshville still has challah french toast, and it's still worth the 175 mile drive from my house.

Challah french toast, a Kindle, a blank notebook. Solo time.

The Americana Music Association conference has also changed quite a bit since the days when I was a regular delegate. The enthusiasm is still there, but the music has enjoyed such mainstream success that the conference seems huge now.

I'm not one to roll my eyes at anyone or anything who has success. But popularity, combined with difficulty in flipping on the extrovert switch (I swear, I used to be able to just take that deep breath and introduce myself to strangers), has made this year's conference somewhat uncomfortable for me.

Part of me feels irrelevant. Part of me feels like I've been doing it right all along. Like, the panels are about self-releasing and how you don't need labels anymore, which is, um, what I've been saying for a hundred years? Because labels rarely do any of the work for you any more, so then why would you share the profits? Especially in an time when there ARE no profits? So unless you have a trust fund, or you're living with your girlfriend rent-free, then you kind of need to pay the bills.

Anyway, it's funny when I go to a panel that suggests doing things that aren't related to music in order to stay engaged with your audience. "Start a blog! Post pictures of your pets or breakfast on Instagram!"

I still haven't been able to answer the question I came down here with, however, which is: how does an indie artist do a self-release in 2015? I knew how to do it in 2008. I knew how to do it with small EPs designed only for small tours in Europe. But I'm working on a full-length recording that I hope to finish very, very soon. What do I do with it? Specifically, what are the steps? Do I bother hiring radio promoters? I had tons of "adds" on the last album, but none of those adds translated into sales. Do I just hire a booking agent and tour like crazy? That means hiring a tour nanny because no way can I leave my kiddo for long periods of time.

Anyway, I start babbling about the music industry on my blog, and that means my loyal blog readers flip over to their Pinterest pages ... so I shall stop here.

Houndmouth at the Ryman.

Keb Mo at the Ryman. With Lucille, BB King's guitar.

I went to a lot of AMA UK events because I am obsessed with the UK. As you know. But this is an American band, the Wild Ponies. How do I get on the AMA UK roster???? I loved seeing this band because it was the only time at the conference I saw an unestablished woman artist who was over thirty performing. She was awesome.

A panel at the AMA conference. Singer Amy Black, on the right, offers excellent advice.

Buffy St. Marie singing "Universal Soldier" at the Ryman.

I have a love/hate relationship with the bus system in Louisville. It is the worst public transportation system of any city I've lived in, BUT when it works, it works so well. I was at my destination less than two minutes after hopping on the bus this morning. Granted I was only going a mile and a half, but, still, it was quick and efficient.

Beth gave me some swanky gin and even swankier tonic water for my birthday, so it was about time I busted it out. I'm going classic here with the weekend's Signature Cocktail. I'm also satiating the part of me that can't see all that bolted basil in my garden go to waste. Once the basil shoots up flowers (bolts), the leaves get a bitter flavor that just isn't good enough for pesto or caprese. But even though it's September, I can't bare to cut down the basil plants; those bees need a place to frolic!

I decided that using the late-summer basil leaves to infuse a simple syrup was a perfectly good function for them, and, truly, the syrup did not taste bitter at all.

So.

The basil gimlet!


First: The Basil-Infused Simple Syrup

• 1 cup sugar
• 1.5 bunches of basil leaves (a large handful), finely chopped
• 3/4 cup of water

After Friday's rant about the music business, I spent the weekend pretending like I was on vacation. I believe the proper term is "staycation," but it's one of the few wordplays that annoys me. Except when I sing it to the tune of that GoGo's song. I am an enigma.


Anyway, a couple of more thoughts I didn't go into:
   1. It irks me to no end that the woman who asked the question about Amanda Palmer crowdfunding her baby, also said:

When you have this baby, either him/her/it will suffer, or your career will suffer. 

Agonizing, cruel and unbelievable to point this out when it's pretty much the fear of EVERY WORKING MOTHER!

  2. This woman who penned the letter also wrote:

And most of the new songs you’ve released lately are the simplistic, feel good, ukulele tunes. Which are fine. But I know that those songs take less time and effort to write, and they offer much less brain-heart stimulation than your older work. 

I have a massive issue with this just being, well, wrong. Again, I don't know Amanda Palmer's music, but I would suggest that, in general, it is way easier to write an average depressing, heartbreak-y song than it is to write a genuinely good simplistic, feel good song. Any other writers out there agree? Maybe it varies artist-to-artist...



Anyway, just a few things I didn't actually write last week because I was vacillating between fury that a woman would dare ask another woman any of those things and that my own career was doomed and what's the point and I might as well just make a pot of coffee and read 19th century Russian novels all that.

But some upbeat stuff because what good is being an artists if you can't have manic mood swings?

Tuesday September 8: I'm singing an In-the-Round at Clifton's Pizza with Danny Flanigan 8:00-10:00. It's free, though tips are beyond appreciated, and it's family-friendly.

September 16-20: I'll be down in Nashville for the Americana Music Association Conference. Ah, I used to play a showcase there, but I'm a bit irrelevant these days because my career has suffered because I had a baby. Instead, I'll be there trying to figure out what's going on in the music industry and catching as many live music acts as possible. I'm putting it out there on the blog that I'm actually going to Nashville so as to prove that I'm not canceling the trip. Last year I couldn't get child care, and I had to cancel at the last minute. THIS YEAR IT'S ON, even though it means missing my child's 3rd birthday which pretty much makes me the worst mother in the world. SEE WHAT I MEAN??? CAREER OR CHILD??? AAAAAAAAAACK... anyway...

Saturday, September 26: I'm playing a solo set (well, Peter Searcy will be joining me on the cello) at the NuLuFest. Catch me from 3:00-3:35.

Saturday, October 11: I'm playing a full band set (featuring Peter Searcy, Dennis Ledford and Donnie Arbuckle) at the Belknap Fall Festival, which is my favorite festival. I'm going to try to teach the guys as many songs from the new album as possible to give you a preview. (No the album is not out yet because I'm still trying to figure out how to pay for it.)

I've also got several bookings for The Birdies, my 1940s-style trio, that I'll announce when publicity allows. We're already booked for three holiday events, so think about us for yours. We can perform without a band (singing to backing tracks) if you don't have the space for a full band in your venue.

Also! Signup 4-week parent/child music class at Mama's Hip series starting this Wednesday. We are making it a signup class so it doesn't get too crowded. But I need two more families to sign up to reach the minimum class size:) https://squareup.com/market/mamas-hip/family-music-jam-september-sign-up-series

Anyway, this morphed into business rather quickly. Please come out and say hello at one of my shows though -- I miss my friends!

Ah, Firenze! I remember you.

I want to go to Italy. I want to go to Florence because it reminds of me of days when people cared about art. Days when artists had patrons and weren't afraid to spend money on elaborate sculptures. I know, I know, it wasn't all roses and art back then, but goodness, the music business is rough.

I have been toying with joining Patreon.com as an alternative to crowdsourcing, but I still have a hard time asking for money. It's a very American mindset of me: that my music business isn't sustainable means I must suck at making music. 

Then I am reminded that back in the day when people bought albums, I sold thousands of albums. Every time I play a show, I see people dance and smile and thank me for struggling to do what I do. I'm just in an expensive art that an entire generation is now in the habit of getting for free. The model has changed, and I have changed with it (you can get all my music for free on Brigidkaelin.Bandcamp.com. Seriously, there are seven albums and EPs up there, all for free ($30,000 worth of studio time!), though wouldn't it be cool if you donated some of that daily soy latte money to an independent artist. Doh! I didn't mean to guilt trip you. Sorry. I'm a Jewish mother by blood. Just take the music and smile.)

Get my music from Bandcamp. ALL of it!

Anyway, I am not terrible at business. I know I could teach more (I have a wait list of 20+ students). I just also like to sing songs I wrote and maybe even record some new songs and all that.

So wouldn't it be nice to have a patron? Or even a few hundred dollars a month to record just one song ... just one song a month? Le sigh.

I read that Amanda Palmer article this morning, and it's gotten my wheels turning (here is an article sort of summarizing it). I don't know much about her, to be honest. I know some of my smart, artistic friends despise her. Some of my smart, artistic friends adore her. (Pretty much the case with any famous woman, I suspect.) I see snarky tweets, and I see loving retweets, both from respectable, intelligent, kind women.

To summarize, Amanda Palmer is an indie musician (and former label artist, but aren't we all?) with 1 million followers on Twitter. She's had incredible success with crowdfunding, and has announced a pregnancy this year (after being something of an icon for the child-free happy businesswoman, as I gather). One of her fans asked her if this meant she is crowdfunding her baby. This is so unbelievable offensive it makes my blood boil. The fact that a woman asked the question is even worse. Doesn't every working mother use her salary to support her family?

I won't go into more details (but do read Amanda's open letter if you're intrigued), but let's just say it's got me thinking even more about motherhood and art and women in business. So many more thoughts, but I'm getting annoyed with the world. I shall stop (for today). I shall go back to drooling over how few Delta skymiles it takes to fly to Italy these days.

David in Florence.

Fancy TWG Earl Grey tea.

Today's post was supposed to be about serenity and a cup of fancy tea. Before I was able to sit down and write it, however, I found a dead baby cardinal bird on my favorite writing desk (outside), which completely destroyed any mental calmness I had attained.

Thankfully, my amazing partner, David, is working from home today, and he swooped in to rescue me from having to look at any more de
ad animals (this was pretty much the fifteenth act of gallantry he had performed since 7am). He is now off the hook until at least noon (unless the cave crickets return).

I lived alone for many years before him, and I am perfectly capable of doing these disgusting tasks myself. It was written into our marriage vows, however, that I do not need to do them anymore. I take my vows very seriously.


With that out of the way, did I ever tell you about the magical tea I purchased as a #treatyoself gift at Harrod's in London a few months back? Harrod's Food Hall is one of those whatdoesheavenlooklike places I make a point to visit whenever I'm in London, though I'm not sure I'd ever actually purchased anything there before. This past spring I was on a mission to bring some TWG tea to one of David's co-workers. It's haute couture tea. Yes, there is such a thing.

TWG tea counter in Harrod's London.

It's obscenely expensive for a dried plant, but after buying some for David's boss, I couldn't resist bringing some home for us. When the saleswoman at the small boutique opened the giant canister of Earl Grey, there was no going back. I have never smelled Earl Grey like this in my life, and I'm friends with someone who has been in the same room with Prince William more than two times. So obviously, I'm very sophisticated.

Anyway, seriously, this TEA. I can't really taste the difference because I'm not as much as a princess as I pretend, but I can smell it and smell it and smell it. And I'm thinking about making a locket out of the dried leaves, so I can keep smelling it all day long.

TWG counter in Harrod's London.

 After being diligent about making a deliciously entertaining video blog the first day of our tour (remember me biting into a chip buttie?!?!?), I completely failed at documenting the rest of the tour. That is what happens when you are having a magically entertaining time riding around the country with a brilliant and talented woman, having mad adventures and driving/riding thousands of miles, all the while playing shows every night.

 As will happen with the ex-ex-pat, I have spent far too much time daydreaming about the country where I lived for that brief-but-fantastic period in my life. Today I was thinking about Whitby -- a gorgeous seaside town in Yorkshire on the east coast of England. I had driven through Whitby several times on previous trips, but never had a change to stop and appreciate its beauty.
 Today, enjoy several photos I took -- unedited and taken on my iPhone, so please be forgiving. Whitby, for literature lovers, might be familiar as the landing place of Dracula!
  We played a wonderful gig at the Whitby Pavilion (thanks, Jim!), slept like logs at the Whitby Backpackers and would love to go back with family in tow as soon as possible.

Note Whitby Abbey far in the background. We later climbed the steps from the village to the top.

Greetings from Paris! The weather is as expected -- cloudy, rainy, with the smell of champagne wafting through cobblestone streets.

My Fitbit broke back in July, and I have been a lazy bum ever since. It's funny, when I first got it, I had no problem hitting my 10k steps. I mean, we don't have a car in a city where everyone drives. It was easy to run a few errands and BAM! the FitBit buzzes. Oddly, now that my steps aren't counting towards anything (I had already deleted most of my friends and stopped joining challenges because the competitive aspect was annoying), I have become more sedentary. Like, what's the point of walking anywhere, if I'm not going to see those little lights pop up? I have accepted more rides from people than ever -- I used to always say, "No, thanks." It's really getting bad, friends.

Clearly, I've got my priorities mixed up.

It also may be time to replace the broken FitBit. I know their customer service is good and all, but this was a gift, and I have no receipt/proof, etc. So oh well. We shall see.

It's been pretty nice to take some naps though.

I did something ridiculous and probably bad for business, but it's something I've been contemplating doing for YEARS: change my personal Facebook profile into a PAGE! Other self-employed artist types had warned me not to do it because it means no one sees your posts anymore, unless you pay for "boosting." I had avoided changing it, but since I've been capped at 5000 friends for at least 5 years, the personal page was really limiting to my business. I had a separate business page, but that was just confusing, as both said "Brigid Kaelin."

Anyway, most of the 5000 friends on my Facebook page were people who have come to my shows in various cities around the world, and not actually people I have over to my house for cocktails on a Wednesday evening -- in other words, they were mostly fans. Getting a work visa in Europe is much easier with a business PAGE with many thousand "likes," so I decided pleasing immigration was more important to me than a page that gets lots of views. Also, I am a business, and every business should have an advertising budget. Who cares if I have to spend a few dollars a month to advertise a show?

So there's my justification. Of course, in the process, I no longer have access to any of my Facebook messages (there were over 200 unread messages, sorry!)*. It also means that I don't see any of your personal posts on my newsfeed, so sorry if I'm missing cute baby photos, but not sorry if I'm missing racist justifications of flying the Confederate flag.

Pleasing the European work permit people was a huge factor in this change, but I think even more important is my day-to-day mental health. I don't like to log onto something to do some quick business, and then get all riled up because of the horrible stuff I see in my feed. It's much more pleasant to get off the Facebook app and do a little writing. Or recording. Or sewing ... like I'm doing this afternoon.

Maybe if you're lucky, I'll post an amazing blog of the amazing dress I'm sewing. David has his doubts.

I'm now going to post a link to this blog on my BUSINESS FACEBOOK PAGE and see if anyone clicks on it. I'm thinking maybe this post isn't worthy of a dollar boost...

I'll add a cute photos to spice it up. Here is a photo of an amazing piece of cake we had at Chuy's a few weeks ago, after our order came out wrong. I'm pretty sure the Tres Leches cake makes up for their error, plus any other future errors:




*Email me if you need something. Or message my Facebook PAGE inbox.