good

Posted February 13th, 2005 by Michelle

I had the extraordinary experience this week of working as a writer, a singer, and an arts advocate. Even more extraordinary was that I was fully capable in all three arenas- I wasn’t full of shit on any three accounts, and that is a wonderful feeling. So often when I talk, about politics, about music, about relationships- anything meaningful to me- I always have this haunting feeling that I actually don’t know nearly enough to talk about anything at all. I have the passion and the conviction but not nearly enough information… and yet still I spout, and although sometimes I simply cannot keep quiet, the whole time I understand that I’ll never really know enough and it becomes a humbling situation very quickly. Maybe it’s because I get very tired listening to people who believe they are the foremost authority on any subject, or people who dismiss or make broad statements based on very little facts, and I just can’t bear to be one of those people. But most times when I open my mouth, I know that I could have done more research.

Not this week.

This week I wrote an article that cracked me up, I sang at an event where there were a few moments when I utterly kicked ass, and I opened the eyes of several possible investors who didn’t really know the state of the arts in our valley. And not once was I full of shit. Not once was I speaking out of turn, or with bad information; not once was I underprepared, or plain old dumb. I felt like I was actually *me*, and those moments are so rare.

Also, I stayed at a resort all weekend, and after our second show last night, I drew a hot bath, drank a glass of champagne, lasted as long as I could in the deep, heated water, and then climbed naked into the kind of king-sized bed I used to dream of when I was young- it was like the cloud that Zeus pulls over himself in Fantasia when he’s ready to rest, vast and fluffy, white and clean and enveloping. It was bliss.

I’m thankful for this past week and weekend. I’m thankful for my gifts, which when I use them, are rich and giving and make me feel the only contentment I know. I’m thankful for Cole Porter and Irving Berlin. I’m thankful that I am a musician, that I am a singer, and that I’m not a terrible person. I’m thankful that I’ve been reminded that I’m a singer, and I’m thankful that my voice is still here and as strong as ever. I’m thankful for the life that beckons.