Inner Voice

Growing up I lived in a very strict household. My parents were very religious and the church we attended believed that almost all pleasures were sin. You were a really good Christian if you were miserable, poor and always gave thanks to God for everything, even being poor and miserable. I'm not sure where the Bible says "thou shalt not go to the movies, wear pants if you're a woman or listen to secular music, for yours shall be the fires of hell." I never found it anywhere, but yet that's how we lived. My dad frowned upon any display of emotion, good or bad. If you laughed too loud, you were immature. If you cried, you were weak. If you were angry, well, that was OK, as long as it wasn't me. So I was basically denied the human right to feel, anything, at all. That didn't quite stop me, it was very difficult to hide, but I was good at it after a while. To this day, I can hide my emotions if I choose, although it is very painful and lonely. It always made me feel like I was somehow broken, defective, and not good enough. This is what the first verse of the song "Inner Voice" is about.

Fast forward to my 20s and it was quite unclear to me what I believed anymore. Is there a God? Does he really care about me? Does he listen when I pray? It felt like a waste of time to believe in someone I couldn't see, but still I feared him. It was a part of my psyche be afraid of God. I wanted nothing to do with him. Eventually, I began attending church again, initially to have a place where my son could learn about how to be a good person and have a social circle with activities. But eventually, I became extremely involved. I was a volunteer for everything, went to every service, class and event held. I was there literally every day for one reason or another. It gave me a reason and a purpose. Of course, one of the bad things about church is that there are real human beings there that can hurt you. The pain was so deep because somehow I held them at a higher standard. I thought they should really be above all the gossip, lies, hypocrisy, and bullying that they preached against. After many, many years and a few churches later, I finally gave up on meeting anywhere on Sundays to praise whatever concept of God they might have in that particular congregation. Again, I felt broken, defective, not good enough.

So now it's just me, still trying to figure out what I believe in. I'm still not sure, but I've opened my mind to many other thoughts that I hadn't dare explore before. One thing I do know for sure, I will always be with me, no matter where I go, so I might as well get acquainted with myself. One of the things I really love is psychology, because it helps me understand myself and others in a way religion never could. I've taken the Myer Briggs personality test a few times before, and I took it again today. I'm still a INFJ (Introverted Intuitive Feeling Judging.) One of the traits of this kind of personality is that "They know things intuitively, without being able to pinpoint why, and without detailed knowledge of the subject at hand" (http://lonerwolf.com/myer-briggs-free-test/.) That's truly how I've lived my life.  I count so heavily on my instinct to decide how I want the details of the song to go, what feeling do I want the song to have. Yes, now I have allowed myself to feel, to feel free, to freely feel. I may be broken, defective, not good enough to others, but I'm learning not to care.

It's not an easy thing to love myself. In fact, it feels very foreign and strange to me. I'm starting to realize that I'm my own best company. We are born alone and we die alone. What happens between birth and death and the relationship with myself is up to me. I've decided to accept and love me as much as I love others, or at least really try. They can't or won't be with me always. The harsh reality is that I can't count on anyone to be with me every second of every day. That's one reason why so many people need to believe in someone divine who can. Maybe that's why so many have discovered that they have their own divinity. We look for answers outside ourselves, but they can only be found within. We must learn to befriend ourselves and listen to our own inner voice.

The journey of creation

We are on the verge of finishing our next song. This time it seemed to go a little smoother than our first attempt. Rob and I have been doing music for many years, but only recently did we embark on making music with each other. When I met Rob, I didn't mention that I was a singer for quite a while. I really didn't consider myself a musician.  Looking back, I'm not sure why. Probably because of insecurities and doubts, but mostly because I was never given a chance to really show what I could do.

In church, I didn't belong in the same clique as the worship or choir leader. I think that as long as I didn't sing bad, they didn't care much what I did. I'll never forget this one week, when the worship leader had no one else singing with him on Sunday, but me. He almost looked disappointed, like he had to settle. He would always tell his "stars" what to sing and how. But when he got stuck with just me, an alto, no less, the attitude was "just do whatever." He really, truly did not care. Another member of the church, who was also a musician, came to me after service and told me how impressed he was with my voice and range. He was also the same person that later would record, mix and master the worship team album, in which I was not included. So many wounds to my ego and soul over the years, they made me feel like I just wasn't good enough.

I gave up on serious singing, resigning myself to being the "queen of karaoke." At least there I was really good compared to the other singers, especially after everyone had a few drinks. I was really great then! Once I was singing "Lights" from Journey and a man grabbed the other microphone and joined me, doing harmony. He later came over and asked me to join his church choir, claiming that they needed me. I told him I wanted nothing to do with church. He still tried to convince me and gave me his card. I didn't call, but kept the card around because it made me feel good to know someone appreciated my voice.

One of those karaoke nights, Rob was there and he heard me sing.  He told me he was really impressed and that I was the best singer there. I had never felt so validated! I think that the idea of us doing music together must've been born that night. I sure would've laughed at him if he suggested it then. Sometimes you need someone to believe in you, even when you don't.

The process of creating a song can be painful. You struggle with the ideas, the notes, the technicalities... You endure through it because you know that something beautiful and amazing will come forth. There's no turning back once the muse takes a hold of you. It's a great feeling when you get over a hurdle, you accomplish something, and the song is taking shape. You don't really know what the end result will be, not completely. It evolves right before your eyes as you keep working at it. Then you finally declare it done. You could keep going, changing things around. But something inside you tells you to let go. You have to believe in what you have created. You have to believe in you.

Reality check, check, one, two...

Well, it seems like forever ago since I began working on this song. Giving birth to a new idea it's more painful than I thought. I had this romantic notion of writing lyrics and melodies, and it was all so beautiful, peaceful, balanced, zen, ommm...

It is all those things, but not all the time. There are real life issues, such as logistics, equipment, finances, schedules, etc. Which amp/mixer/software to buy? How high end can we go right now without limiting the possibility for expansion and yet not breaking the budget? What color to choose for the acoustic foam? What kind of seating should there be without taking up so much floor space? How to cover the concrete floor to make it comfortable and still aesthetically pleasing? What the hell did I get myself into?

Then the doubts start to set in. What if I'm not good enough to spend all this time and effort making music? I need to work on my stage presence. What should I wear? Do I need a "look?" I need to lose weight. Maybe I'll just wear black all the time. My hair is too curly but I don't like it up all the time.. Maybe I'm too old, too Hispanic, too female, too... me!!

Breathe... omm...

No one understands your own fears and insecurities better than you, no matter how hard you try to explain them. It makes you feel so very alone. Please, for the love of all that's holy, don't tell me to "get over it." That is the opposite of helpful, which is unsympathetic and unobliging. I will eventually come out of that anxiety, it won't take over my life and control me. But it is still there, it is real, and I have to deal with it every day. Most of the time I can ignore it and keep moving. Other times, I just need to release it, just talk about it and hope that someone will be there to tell me that it's going to be OK. A lot of the time, that someone is me. Pick yourself up, girl. You're tough, you'll get through this. This, too, shall pass.

So the acoustic foam is blue and charcoal. I still have to figure out how and where to hang it up in the room. I really want a love seat but might have to settle for a couple of smaller chairs. The technical stuff I leave mostly to Rob, although he's always asking my opinion and explaining how everything works. He just finished building a computer specially for recording and mixing. I can't wait to be all setup and rolling.

Putting my heart and soul out there takes a lot of courage. It's an exciting and scary adventure. I do rely a lot in intuition, especially when I don't have enough information. I am learning a lot with every step. All I can do is keep stepping, one day at a time. When those spiritual, inspired moments do come, I will remember that I am just fine, and breathe. Omm...

My whirlwind trip to New York

Oh my goodness, where to begin?  I'll try to be as brief as possible, God help me. So much happened in those five days I was visiting my family. I have many brothers and sister who live in New York and we lost touch with each other for about 20 years. Through the magic of the internet, I was able to reconnect last year with some of them. I just came back from spending time with them after so long. Needless to say, it was very emotional for me in many ways. I met two sisters and one brother, and they all made me feel very welcomed and loved. Even though we don't really know each other well, we were able to connect and try our best to catch up. The time went by so fast!

The last time I went to New York I was 16 years old. I was there with my mother and younger brother for a month. I grew up being over-protected so we didn't go see any of the famous New York sights. While I was there this time, I went to the Empire State Building, took the Staten Island Ferry and saw the Statue of Liberty, also the 911 Memorial, ate Puerto Rican food at Spanish Harlem and so much more. I had a wonderful time but there was so much activity, so much energy coming from the city itself. Everyone is always is a hurry, always in the offensive. That was hard to get used to, although I did adapt as best and as fast as I could.  I was making sure I was right behind my sister every time we took the subway. She was going to send me on my own one morning to 125th street so I could get breakfast and check out the sights on my own, but there was no time. I did walk around Harlem, where she lives, and was starting to get familiar with the area near her apartment. It was all so new to me, just like landing in another planet and trying to figure out how it all works. It was an amazing adventure I will never forget.

So now I'm back home in California, back in my small pond, trying to rest but feeling restless at the same time. There are so many things I experienced in those five days, all the sights, sounds, tastes, feelings... I could write a ten page essay easily.  It almost feels like it was all a dream. Being in New York changed me. It's so strange what a strong effect that city can have on someone, even in such a short time. There is a quiet confidence arising within me. If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere. :)

102nd floor of the Empire State Building. It really is lonely at at the top!

Living to sing, working for a living

As we are in the final stages of writing a song from the ground up, it has been painful and joyful, all at once. Although I love creating, this is new to me. Rob (from the band Corpus Bellum) is an extremely talented guitarist, as well as being an experienced songwriter. He is also very patient. He better be; he has to deal with me. I don't quite understand the entire process yet, and I want everything to happen faster than it is, and it would, except for one small detail: we have bills and we have to eat sometimes. We both have said that we wish we could just make music for a living, to follow the muse wherever it takes us. I think that my muse would not be going in the same direction as his, but somehow they've crossed paths. He is a metal guitarist and I'm not a metal... anything. I used to listen to a little bit of metal in high school, but also salsa, merengue, new wave, freestyle, r & b, power ballads, mostly top 40. But Rob was fully submerged in metal. Scorpions and Judas Priest where more his speed. How will this ever work? When we clash, as amicably as possible, it turns into a battle of egos. Who will buckle down first? Although I'm in the forefront of this project, being the singer and all, I do respect and appreciate what Rob brings to the table. I've told him that he is the real musician. He is very knowledgeable. I am all instinct and feeling. I think we are both learning as we go, although maybe not the same lessons.

I do have plenty to write and sing about. When I was eight years old, I stood in from of the church, singing the praises of the Lord. To be honest, I loved the praises I received myself. It was a contrast from family life, where not only were there no praises, but I was punished and emotionally abused just by being a child. I faced many heartaches and disappointments as life went on. Someone out there will understand the loneliness of not being able to go to your parents for any kind of consolation or understanding. Many will know what it is to have your innocence stolen and not be able to talk to anyone about it. Pain is a common denominator for us all.

It is an exciting and sometimes difficult process to write and record a song. So many details, you wouldn't believe it! But I know this is what a want to do with my life. I can't escape it, even if I wanted to. I'm not sure where it will take me, if anywhere, but I am ready to give it a go, to give it my all. If it doesn't work, well, there is always church. Nah, who am I kiddin'? No time for that, back to work!

My setup at home. I like my mic. I think it's really pretty!

Musical adventure ahead!

Growing in Puerto Rico, it seemed like almost anyone could sing and dance. But I wanted to be exceptional. At the somewhat tender age of eight, going to church was one the highlights of my days. It was there where I was able to make music, even from the pews. I used to attend the kind of church that encouraged "audience participation," to put it one way. I would bring my Bible, wear my veil (not Catholic, but we still did so) and happily play my tambourine. I really didn't like the slow songs as much because I really couldn't play then, but I could still sing. Someone along the way noticed and soon enough, I was in front of the congregation doing solos.

As an adult, I was a part of a few choirs, in church and college. As a music major, I took voice lessons. Walking into that class that first day was so grand, with the auditorium seats and the stage. Our teacher came in, full of life, confidence and energy. It was very contagious. We each had to sing a little something for her in front of the whole class. Many students were scared and shy. I could barely wait for my turn. "Amazing grace" was the only thing I could think of singing. She only smiled and nodded, just as she had done with everyone else. Little did I know then that later on she would coach me, one on one, in her home. She was an extremely busy person, so I treasured that time. I always had the feeling that she was hoping I would take over her spot. She was almost 60 years old, but she looked much younger. She sang in many different events in the community and she was giving me many tips on how to do that well. I never finished my music education. Unfortunately, life has a way of getting in the way sometimes. I kept all I learned as a treasure of knowledge and wisdom that I currently apply in my singing. I often wonder if she found her successor. I wonder where I would be in my music journey if I had kept going and finished my degree.  Now I have to figure out how to continue just by instinct and lots of trial and error, but I suppose that is how many of us learn and live.

I am beyond excited to be able to pursuit my love of music once again. It is a deep passion of mine. Some of the most fulfilling and happiest times I spend singing, writing lyrics, helping with mixing and music writing. I daydream of doing nothing but making music for a living. I don't know if that will happen, but I will give it my best shot. I hope to find people who enjoy what I do. I would love to connect with others and if I can do that with my music, that would be tremendously fulfilling. We can all sing and dance together. This is the beginning of the ride, so who will join me?