November 8th, 2008

The United States of America has a new president. A man that draws tears from all of us; a man that speaks with words of inspiration and hope. He speaks of things we have not yet voiced but that we've held in our thoughts like a great idea waiting to be born. I am nearly overwhelmed and it is difficult to articulate exactly what I am feeling. Underneath it all, I am extremely excited to be alive in this time. I know that this the history of my generation blossoming and the future has turned like a spoke on a wheel. It will take all of our efforts to create our future history. Let's hear the call and take action.

February, 27th 2008

A while back Jay Allen Sanford from The SD Reader got in touch with me regarding by bit in my bio about my van crash. He inspired me to finally write a full account of that experience. He was only able to publish pieces of it in The Reader, so here's the full story.....enjoy! THE CRASH By: Astra Kelly Music has saved my life time and time again. From the most difficult and darkest points, the beauty of song has lifted me back up. The feeling of the voice rising from the depths of the belly or the instrument vibrating against the body can coax the most hidden emotions and soothe the most vicious of inner demons. Even more profound than my private love affair with music has been the relationships created from the stage; the connections with an audience whether it is thousands or that one lone barfly. The spirits of the stage are frantic and strong. The feeling of sound coming thru from the ethers and translated into music for human ears is the most transcendental thing I've experienced. People want it, even though they can't play. It's why everyone seems to want to be a rockstar. The day I was supposed to drive up to Evergreen, Colorado for a gig at The Little Bear Saloon, I awoke from a dream where I was holding the base of a cyclone between both hands. It was my job to do this task. I was standing in the calm center and all around me was chaotic wind and rain. It was November 10th, 2000, the night of the full moon. There was a storm on its way and I was anxious about traveling and generally didn't feel like going anywhere. I left the house alone that night at about 10pm. About fifteen miles North of Pueblo, Colorado, I saw a car off the road. I slowed down and put my seatbelt on just as I passed a second car that had slid into a telephone pole. There was no snow falling, but the air was freezing and the highway had become a sheet of black ice. I cruised a bit further going about 40 mph and saw a third accident. I decided I'd stop in Colorado Springs and stay there for the night. Without warning, I found myself sliding sideways down the highway. I turned my wheel slightly trying to straighten out, but instead the van just spun quickly around and pointed towards the side of the road. There was no regaining control. I grabbed the wheel with both hands and braced myself shouting, "Oh God" over and over out loud. When the wheels hit the dirt and the van rolled over, I heard the horrible sound of crushing metal, then all went silent and I felt arms come in and wrap themselves around me holding me as if suspended in mid-air. The van rolled one more complete time and came to rest upside down on a set of train tracks about 150 yards from the side of the road. I could smell gas, and for fear of explosion quickly unhooked my seatbelt, fell to the ground, opened the door and scrambled out of the van. I rolled down the embankment and as I stood to look around, I realized my glasses were still in the car, and I couldn't see a thing. I turned and looked at my wrecked chariot, the light was on inside the car and I wondered if I wasn't still in there. I blinked my eyes, shook my head, felt my arms and legs, and checked for blood and broken bones. Besides my throbbing head from hitting the top of the van as it rolled over, everything seemed in order. The van hadn't blown up yet, so I took a chance and crawled back up to it. My glasses were sitting right between the front seats. My guitar had been thrown around inside the van but was right there, so I grabbed it too and climbed back out to survey the scene. Now with the ability to see clearly and in the light of the full moon I looked around slowly. All of the windows had blown out of the van as I rolled. Scattered along the side of the road, were pieces of me and my nearly two year journey since leaving Chicago. My posters, flyers, CD's, PA speakers, clothes and blankets, and other little trinkets I had gathered along the way, were everywhere. I tried flagging someone down for help. A truck went by, tried to slow but skidded, almost went of the road and kept going. Shortly after, a big diesel pick-up stopped and Phil and Luanne Lowne got out They were my angels. They said they make the trip from Southern to Northern Colorado every other weekend and usually take a different route. A little voice had told them to take I25 instead. They had a daughter just my age and knew that if she were in trouble they'd hope someone like them would stop to help her. They'd seen me go off the road and knew they should stop. We called the police at about 11pm, they said they were busy but would try to get someone out to us as soon as possible. We spent the next 45 minutes gathering my things from the side of the road and inside the van. Phil and Luanne said they would take me up to Colorado Springs and I could get a hotel there. I found my camera and finished the roll of film, snapping a few shots of the mangled van. Buddy, the Carquest driver, stopped when he saw the van on the tracks. He was an ex-paramedic, so shined a flashlight into my eyes, and confirmed I had a mild concussion, but seemed ok otherwise. He drove this route every night and knew that at precisely 12:10am a train would come. Just before 12am, we saw the tiny light of the train coming down the tracks still miles away. Buddy had tried to call the train company to warn them with no luck, and another call to the police was fruitless. We moved the cars up the road a bit and waited as the train approached. I held my breathe for what seemed like forever as the train came closer and closer…I had the feeling that a part of me was indeed still in there and was about to die….a part of me whose past was ready to fall away. I gasped as the train made those final strides toward the car, it was as if it was moving in slow motion, then sped up just before it hit. The explosion of glass and metal was amazing, shattering in every direction and what seemed like hundreds of feet into the air before falling back to the earth like snowflakes sparkling in the light of the moon. The engineer hit the brakes, but drug the van under the front of the train for the mile that it took it to stop. Luanne held me as I sobbed uncontrollably…I had died. Though my body was sitting watching this spectacle, that part of me which is not physical was experiencing something out of this world and if I think back to it I can almost remember myself in there tumbling into oblivion. It was as if body and spirit were separated in the crash and were connected by some thread…maybe just the concept that we belonged together. A few minutes after the train came to a stop, the tow truck arrived. Trooper Flippin arrived shortly after that and we watched as the cop, the tow truck driver, and the train operator stood around and scratched their heads for a few minutes, throwing their hands up in the air and arguing about the best way to deal with the situation. The van had curled beneath the front of the train and was wedged tightly between the train and the tracks. The officer finally remembered someone had been driving that van and led me to the squad car as a call came in from the radio saying there were four cows about half a mile back standing in the middle of the road. As we got into the car, he called the station for back up, "we're gonna need some help out here, we got some cows in the middle of road, gonna cause an accident." Would have been nice if he'd called for back-up a little earlier…I filled out paperwork, denied an ambulance and left the scene with Phil and Luanne. They dropped me at the Days Inn in Colorado Springs just after 3am. I finally lay down and took what felt like my first breathe. In the stillness, I could feel every cell in my body quivering and shaking like chaos trying to come together. There was a huge gaping energetic hole in the top of my head…and it took literally the next four days to feel whole again as my spirit seemed to trickle slowly back in thru this opening. There were things that I left on the side of that road. The fear of death was gone. If I had wanted to die, I could have. That was my chance, a doorway opened for me to do with it what I wanted….stay or go. I wanted to live. My fear of not being good enough was gone, there were no old stubborn insecurities whispering in my ear. When I was four years old, I'd told my father that I had died in a car accident in my last life and always had an extreme fear of crashing. That fear had disappeared as well. My faith in the divine was strengthened. Those arms that held me were so familiar and I knew that spirit would always be with me. I would no longer waste time or words. I would be present in everything, aware of the experience of life at all times. What I left behind was nothing, compared to what I learned. I wrote a few songs just after the crash, and spent lots of energy creating a collage on an old door I'd found. I cut out hundreds of images that reminded me of the whole experience and painted a flowerpot at the base that each image bloomed from. It helped me to ground myself within my new life. I didn't write any more music for about 8 months during which time I focused my energies on a proposal for a music festival that would take place on my forty acres of land in Colorado. When I did start writing music again, it was some of the best I'd ever written. The lyrics were simple and poignant, understandable and not wrapped in metaphors like I'd done in the past. The music was more melodic, slower paced and the forms of the songs were more classic and catchy. The following year would be an intense one for everyone as we experienced September 11th together and I would meet the man I would be married to briefly who would rip away the last of my past. Every once in a while, life delivers us to places where we cannot deny that we are blessed. The moments that, without a doubt, show us that life is precious and should be respected and savored. The inexplicable events that catapult us into states of awe and grace, these are the snapshots we carry in our minds as we tackle the challenges of life. For me, the crash was so far the single most important event in my own evolution. It was intensely swift and quick like a warrior's sword…just the way I like it.

February 13th 2007
From 1993, when I moved out of my parents house until summer of 2005, I had a TV only for the sake of "watching movies." Then, for the purposes of my relationship, I got cable. I've become a Law and Order fan, a Nascar fan...and I always enjoy a little Seinfeld. I am not a channel flipper and am happy to give up control of the remote, as long as there's something on I can stomach. This is my excuse for watching The Grammy's last Sunday for the first time at my own home...and to my dismay, American Idol tonight. I found myself alone in the house, clicked on the TV and there it was. I've never watched more than 30 seconds of the damn show! I stayed with it from start to finish. I believe that I now have a grasp on what it is all about and I'm completely baffled. Back to my point.....between The Grammy's and friggin' American Idol, can't anyone just hold a note? The only note held I heard all night on the Grammy's was Anthony Keidis singing Hey oh, I got your...whatever...hey oh..Then they accepted their award and said "we need more rock bands." Seriously. Even the next great country chanteuse, Carrie Underwood went to the thrilling, trilling R&B songbird place. OK, yeah..every "singer" should be able to play around with the notes a bit, but man. I feel like I've spent years learning how to hold a note. Learning how to carry something until I can't carry it anymore. It's so simple, one note held until the end, as if it could carry itself into eternity. The most memorable moments I have in witnessing a performance are the notes that are held. When someone pulls me out of my seat by suspending me in a moments where I just can't sit still. This is rock music to me. Every exploration around a chord or a note leads back to the groove. It leads back to the foundation. Yes, we need more rock bands....and we need folks who are willing to stick it...feet on the ground, groove in motion, without giving in to the safety of using everything...all notes at once.?

November 6th, 2006
Java Jams recording/filming at Cosmos cafe. I saw Berkley Hart and Gregory Page for the first time and knew I was in the right place. I felt the whole night like I was reuniting with old friends. It was the first official performance for Not Your Mom..three songs, not enough to get to THAT PLACE..but I can see us there if I close my eyes. I love these ladies, I love this town...sometimes I wonder why it took me so long to get here. It just keeps getting better and better. Wed. we rock Winstons...

October 13th, 2006
I've moved to San Diego. The air is constantly rejuvenating and the sun is always shining. Every day feels like summer and the music flows freely every where I turn. It was difficult at first, finding work and getting settled, but I'm busy now doing work for KPRI FM which I absolutely love and for a killer recording studio, Studiowest. Playing lots of music and have finally found ladies for the much anticipated girl band! Everything is falling into place like a reward for spending the summer moving. I can't wait to see how it all turns out!

May 1st, 2006
I awake sometimes from dreams of smelling the ocean air. This desert has become too desolate to truly be creative. Let the waves wash over my everything and the air become clearer as the dust settles for good.....or at least for now.

October 13th. 2005
Just finished my annual 21 day fall cleanse. I gradually take out each food and drink until I am consuming nothing but juice, water, and broth for days. This time I made it four days. I have a renewed sense of clarity, and everything has transformed in a very subtle way. I do it because I feel the need for change almost constantly. I don't like the idea of becoming so habitual, that it is beyond my awareness, and as much as I appreciate the pleasures of life, I love the feeling of consuming nothing and experiencing that state of inhumanity. Once the body and mind stop craving everything, there is a strong, irreplaceable sense of freedom that enters in and gives the undeniable impression that life is extremely precious.

July 23rd, 2005
I can't believe the summer is half over already....i've been working hard tp pay for my art, always the case, but this record is a long time coming and the only hinderance is the funding to finish it. So if I sacrifice summer vacations and camping trips so the record can move towards completion, so be it. I've been caught between loving and losing nearly every day it seems. It makes me realize how quickly everything can change, and how effortlessly the body and mind respond to what happens in our lives. I can't decide if I've stumbled upon the ultimate distraction or the ultimate destination. I guess I don't have to decide right now, I've always felt at ease living a paradox, so this is nothing new. I am inspired. Just started writing new tunes, the last of which will go on the record. I'm noticing all sorts of bizarreties around lately, could be this eccentric town I'm living in, or maybe not. Regardless, I'm finding myself itching for water and moist air...SanDiego sure was cool, hmmmmmmm.

March 13th 2005
The anticipation of Spring sparks renewal and breakthroughs. I dig into my cosmic toolbox to find that which I have stored away for Winter's freeze. I remember the unending Chicago winters so well and wonder which isn't easier, the indefinate gloom of the midwest followed by the sudden bursting forth of the new season, or the constant back and forth of this mountain town, 70 degress one day and two feet of snow the next.

February 10th, 2005
After a certain point in life we shouldn't need much hand-holding. However, if we fall, a little boost up never hurts.

February 5th, 2005
It is tedious to chase your own tail.

January 30th, 2005
Do not take on the burdens of others, not matter how tempting it may seem. One who does not respect themselves cannot possibly respect you.

January 23rd, 2005
Usually when I sit down to write, which I've been doing since I was a wee child, I let the words flow out until they stop. Last night I sat down with my pages and filled six of them with random thoughts, two to three lines each, one after the other. They were all notes to myself in a way, little reminders of where I need to go and how I can get there. It started simply and became more complex. Drink more water, stretch everyday, think ahead, breathe deeply, wait out the turmoil like weathering a storm, you cannot control others, only atmospheres and situations....and so on and so on. I think I'll pull my next few entries from there.

January 5th, 2005
The first day of 2005 felt like a hangover. Granted I have discovered I quite enjoy a filthy dirty martini, this hangover felt like one soaked with the residue from the entire year of 2004. I find myself with thousands of choices and not the clarity to pick a door. I'm standing here contemplating not thinking, just doing. How am I pondering no thought? It is my love for the paradox I suppose. Each day is laying itself out to reveal more. I am at attention. One thing I've noticed is that when I'm writing 2005, it doesn't seem wierd like it usually does.....this is going to be a good year. Come alive in 2005.

October 2nd, 2004
If we think like we've always thought, we'll get what we've always got. Change is upon us, decisions are being made. It's all so exciting!!