6 men, a dog and a Dane

As six men (four musicians, a script writer and an instructor) are standing in a circle out in my front yard having an acoustic percussion practice I thought I'd blog about what it means to live with a musician and have a studio in the house. Almost half of our house is a studio where musicians come to practice, jam or record. It is not a sterile, clean, white-painted ordeal, but has dark blue carpet on the walls and floor to capture sound, a big board to write lyrics and set lists on and a constant instrumental movement in and out as instruments and equipment are used for live shows and practices at other locations before they return, yet again, to our house. There is something inspiring about listening to the creation of art and I love being in the house as it unfolds, seeing flushed faces appear from the studio and listen to exciting discussion of how to proceed. I have also discovered that I can sleep through a lot of loud live music as long as it sounds good. I also have the privilege of offering my own band a place to practice - my band who, by the way, just got back from Anderson Bluegrass Festival where we were very well received and earned 200 Dollars - our biggest gig so far.

It feels like the summer is almost at its end in Fairbanks. It has become berry season and I have picked the first round of blueberries. Next will be more blueberries and then cranberries. I also start studying again next week at the Circumpolar Health Conference 2012 is being held in Fairbanks and I - studying perceptions and practices of health in rural Alaska - have signed up for the whole week. I just learned that there is a dress code for the conference and so I might have to buy some clothes that doesn't scream "bought in Value Village", have holes in it or was meant to be worn by a hippie at a festival. Did I mention that Alaskans really haven't taken the idea of dress codes to heart? Rich or poor: worn Carhartt and practical boots is the uniform here. When I show up in tight black jeans and a black top I scream European - especially when the jeans don't have trumpet sway (this is the best I can describe it) which is still the norm in Alaska. This is also why I can get away with only showering twice a week. People just don't care and it is so liberating.

The men in my yard have now been reduced to three musicians who have barricaded themselves in the studio. One is James, the other is the drummer from my own band: Cassidy, and the third is bass player Isaiah who lives in his van outside my door. And thus like that it turns into a normal Tuesday evening of music, people and for me: reading, writing, eating, talking and perhaps soon sleeping?