To find out why I created my new cd, “Absence of Blame”, you can read about it on my blog, http://www.zenlala.com, or get a special booklet edition when you order one of the limited releases (it includes Lily’s artwork.)
This is an excerpt from the special booklet that comes with the limited edition 500 run of “Absence of Blame” you can order from me (also includes a handdrawn cd cover by yours truly.) I’m not going to post everything I wrote… if you want to read it all, why, I guess you’d have to help a lady out and buy one of the limited edition cds to find out the rest!
It seems to me people get REALLY uncomfortable whenever a woman cries, let alone they have to HEAR a woman cry, at, say, a political rally, or God forbid,
on a recording. On numerous occasions throughout my life, I’ve heard women, myself included, apologize for publicly weeping. Why is it when we women express sorrow (or joy) via our eyeballs, some people consider it a sign of weakness or, dare I say, insulting to their intelligence? An intrusion on their time? Again, maybe it’s just me, but it’s what I’ve witnessed and experienced, and just wanted to put it out there. Over the last 13 years, after birthing two babies, I’ve come to recognize that tears are a damn miracle, and they sure can be healing to release.
So, I started thinking about tears I’ve shed through my life. The multitude of purposes they’ve served. My first kiss (cried with happiness), weddings (same thing), at funerals (sorrow and loss), over Hallmark commercials (touching and sweet), holding the hand of a dying friend; playing with Romanian orphans, dirty and impoverished, but who were in awe when I shared a photo I had taken of them….I had tears of amazement at the sheer joy they were experiencing over seeing their own image for the first time! I’ve bawled watching my kids accomplishments, or had completely wet cheeks when doubled
over with laughter (or pain), as I become red-faced and bleary. Once, at 3 a.m. in college, I walked in on a boyfriend having sex with someone else, and rain home in the rain, sobbing all the way. I cried after I met a murderer on death row, and I cried when he was executed. I cried for all the innocent people who died at the hands of Cho, and I cried for Cho’s mother. These tears have always changed me: they cleanse my soul, they release my anguish, and they bond me with others who are at loss. Mostly, though, I’ve learned, tears are ok and deserve a helluva lot more credit and respect.
And that’s what these songs are for me. Moments in my life where I have cried, and, as you listen to the record, moments where I cry again, reliving what I have chosen to share. As an artist, I wanted to go someplace scary, to push myself physically, to let go and expose myself as a vulnerable woman, trying to figure out the past, the present, the future. It’s been a life I love, but, like you, I’ve had some painful, hard times, and I wanted to let you know—- you are not alone. Maybe through these songs, you can cry, too.
But these songs needed atmosphere. They needed understanding. Approaching…
(I’m stopping here…there are about eight more paragraphs in the booklet…)
Here’s what the songs, or “tiny movies” as I call them, are about:
FIRST LOVE. WITH ANOTHER WOMAN, AT THAT.
Thanks for reading this far.
To order, just send $50 to:
Sara Hickman AOB
3005 S. Lamar D-109 #412
Austin, TX 78704
Or, if you want to order 5, you’ll also get 5 hand signed 8 x 10 photos. So you’d send $250.
Or, if you want to order 100, you’d send $5000, I’ll send the cds with handmade art, 100 hand signed photos to the people of your choice, and I’ll come do a house concert at your house.
Keeping the faith, making the music, and finding creative ways to bring it all to fruition,
One Comment “Why I Created Absence of Blame…”
Time for a fruition-nap? Would be nice if the people at the customs examination would think (and do) so… But as I know, it is not allowed to send money in letters from outside the USA. So how about a clue for the outsiders? Seems you have to fly for a house concert… And yes, you are wearing nice pants in publicity! Mother natures son
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