Fortune Cookie

i would like to present my songs to you
like tiny slips of paper inside fortune cookies
lacking the generic reason most seem to occupy.
i want mine to resemble something real, at least fill you with the idea
that someone out there loves you, regardless of what you do,
where you're going, or who you're with.

i want them to leave a sweet aftertaste in your mouth
that stays with you as you grow older.
every wrinkle on your skin i could crawl inside
because i treasure the depth in you.
i've seen you naked and i've seen your flaws
and i admired them quietly, whether it was two feet away
or seven states away, my sweet memory
enveloped like a tiny slip of paper
inside a fortune cookie.

i can't be with you but i keep coming back in song
leaving them for you like tiny slips of paper
hoping maybe you'll stumble across one
and be filled with the idea that someone out there loves you

In a Room Full of Pianos

you and i ran into each other in mexico by accident.

it had been years since i'd seen you,
the remains of your hair were gray
while mine were concealed with clairol.
it was outside the elevator you saw me
you kissed the cheek of my tanned skin and
i smiled at the fact it took less than a moment for you to recognize me.

we stepped into the elevator together,
i whispered in your ear, shyly, that i thought you looked nice
still distinctive. your grey, ironic sweatsuit made you look younger
than the other men standing beside us dressed in coat and ties.
our pleasure coaxed their business, inquiring minds wanted to know
who is that woman standing with you, sir,
and you quipped that i was your sister.

we stepped off, onto shiny white linoleum floor
our heels hitting it with a staccatoed rhythm
while the scent of espresso came from a cappuccino maker.
it explored our noses, it worked like a magnet between us and
i smiled as i buried my face in your upper arm,
hearing the lush whispers of resort couples sitting on couches
basking in the sunshine and the lull of the ocean outside
beckoning from the wall-sized window,
in this room full of baby grand pianos.

"pick one," i whispered. "play for me.
they won't mind as long as you're good."
and you knew you were good, you were always good.
i loved the way you took a seat like it was the first time
with one the color of cream, i knew what you were thinking.
Your face faked alienation,
pretending to be Larry David at a piano lesson,
knowing the people nearby would stop mid-sentence,
and flash us dirty looks all too credulously.
you placed your fingers on the keys,
then secretly glanced up at me
winking at the beginning of a haunting melody
that made my bones ache

i remember resting my arms on the velvet sofa
facing you while you played the song so delicately.
(and pardon the cliche but you could've heard a pin drop on the linoleum floor.)
i remember thinking,
All my life I've always wanted to be touched by a pianist
but wondering why you never occurred to me when I had those desires.
Maybe it's because you were always too busy embracing other things
whether it was steering wheels, other women
pulling you in the opposite direction
our lives like secrets never told to one another
like my graying hair or the fact you wore sweatsuits to Mexico,
intricacies we'd never waste our time describing because we never had the time.
And this time, you did not rush the song, i coiled around each key
like holding chocolate on my tongue and letting it melt on its own,
you, playing that arrangement, for me
as though you had all the time in the world
then i wondered if this encounter in Mexico really was by accident.














i love dreams like these, such a sweet escape.

Brick Walls

Greetings, friends and fellow readers.

Sorry for the lack of updates. Truth is I've been taking a much-needed break. It was beginning to become a quantity over quality issue so I'm trying to step back and revamp the songs I have.

I did some guest vocals for a friend, Scotty Lingelbach, with "Feather Merchant." We might be doing some more collaboration this summer. I'm looking forward to it.

I'm also excited to be changing scenery on a grander scale come August. I've got a big project I plan on getting into, more to come when that becomes more concrete.

Thanks for reading, xo to all

taramisu!

sup

Private Editors. is now available on iTunes. Hooray. That New Year's Resolution I made over a year ago was fully accomplished.

I've been steadily working on ANOMIE. Sorry to sound repetitive. I uploaded another song to my myspace, "Buttercup." Kinda goes against the constitution of the album, but nonetheless I found it pertinent, because I am human, I relapse like the best of them.

I am hoping to do more travel in a few months, on a more extreme measure than just a south/west coast venture. I really want it to affect me as an artist, positively, I want to grow. I want to record sounds from foreign places and use them in songs. I think this could be useful.

So far, I have 12 tracks for ANOMIE... I'm debating whether or not I want to remove Buttercup and add a different track. Depends on how fast I get sick of it.

xo
misu

siamese dream

I'm in a foul mood, easily distracted. I lost my debit card somehow last night and can't find it. That sucks. I cancelled it fortunately, but now I'm shit out of luck for the next 10-14 business days.

Anyway, I completed "Trainwreck" a few days ago and have it available to hear on myspace. I purchased the domain name www.mytaramisu.com the other day and will be making my own website.

I have a raging headache. It's circulating around my skull as though someone has attached a tremolo pedal to my cerebrum and they keep stomping on that shit, over and over round and round. i want my card back. sonofabitch.

The other morning it snowed. I woke up just in time to watch it. It resembled dandruff. Winter's last layer of skin, shedding in the air. Mother nature's bright idea. I had an extremely intense dream and woke up at 7:30 am. This was right after I was somewhere else, walking down a street in New Orleans after visiting with someone of my past, in secret. His mother had told him to wake up, that it was 9:30. But it was really 7:30 and I realized it as I was juxtaposed to that n'awlins street. So bizarre. I said out loud, "She lied to him" and then I woke up and it really was 7:30. It was kind of an awful dream altogether, involving copious amounts of sex and bad memories. And it was so damn vivid that I almost felt sick. I would've much rather dreamt about someone I'd currently want to sleep with, not this person. So while I watched mother nature's dandruff floating around, I thought about him and wondered if he had shared the dream because it was too intense for just myself. A "Siamese Dream" if you will. Good call on an album name, Smashing Pumpkins. Good call.

private editors...

whatcha think of the cover?
I'm thisclose to getting private editors. wrapped up. Unlike ANOMIE, it is my first album. Originally with 12 tracks but I decided to ditch one and keep it at 11. I've been going back constantly and reworking volume levels, tighten loose ends, and get it finished so I can finally have it available on iTunes. Originally I wanted to just shelf it and that be that, but I had a change of heart. Partially because I'm broke, but also as part of the learning experience so that whenever ANOMIE decides to be finished, I'll have more knowledge based on prior experience...and mistakes. :)

I was driving to my mom's today when a song started singing itself in my ear and it was fantastically cynical and too good not to write down. Whether or not I'll execute it properly is a completely different story. However, I had to repeat the verses over and over for an hour and a half until I got home and was able to sit down and write it out. I really want to either invest or "borrow" a program, such as Reason, to make better drum tracks. The ones I have all pretty much suck, some are worse/better than others.

On another note, since I have returned home, it's been a very confusing transition but at the same time, familiar as well. Being jobless at the moment has left me feeling a bit unstable, and sometimes this certain unstability provides something to sing about, but other times it leaves me feeling so spaced and unorganized that I can't seem to focus and make things happen. But I've also started to develop an awareness fairly quickly when I know nothing's going to come about it at certain times and to just put it away before I drive myself crazy trying to produce something. The song I wrote today, I feel, has some serious potential if I can just bring it to life full force. It's a bit of a fuck you, but metaphorical and sweet. I haven't yet made a song about this particular situation from my life, and it has deserved one, but it also deserved some time away from it so I could sit back and really write things for what they are. Or were. Ha.

Thanks for reading. xo
taramisu

what am i writing about??

sometimes i hit a brick wall, hard. other times i write something i think is worthwhile and to the point, then i go back and read it the next day and recognize its harshness. sometimes being harsh is necessary, othertimes it's hurtful and unwarranted and sometimes there are things i'm better at keeping to myself. That is, unless, I can find a better way of putting it.

i find myself wanting to gravitate toward writing about what fueled my last collection. then i scold myself. "write about you." but what is there about me? there's a lot about me. i'm just trying to figure all of that out and still make it sound interesting. i'm just used to writing about someone else. it's not even like they're still present in my mind, it's something i'm comfortable with and get good usage of words in describing temperate feelings, cravings, urgencies.

i wrote something last night that was not necessarily made for song. i was angry about something i do not wish to disclose, but i went back and read it today and immediately destroyed it. it's not that i regret writing it, but i would've regretted it had certain people read it or heard it.

just what is the theme i am trying to convey with ANOMIE? well, several things. Me coming to terms with myself, who i am, heightened awareness of it, and yet, a dissociation with it. observing my contradictory traits. coming clean about the yearn to love someone but also my extreme hesitation to do so. my past. who i am as a daughter. my femininity versus my need to be strong and tough. me vs. myself.

there's only so much i can write about. i want to dig deeper with metaphors and really carry some out. once i get back to atlanta i'm going to look into some slide guitar sounds, my resources are a bit limited where i'm at at the moment.

more to come later...
thanks for reading.

taramisu