Jess Klein - Backstage

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about a book I was reading on Ayurveda - if you’re not familiar, the phrase Ayurveda means “the science of life”, and it’s an ancient Indian practice that focuses on achieving and maintaining balance in the body and mind through diet, exercises, and activities appropriate to one’s specific body type (don’t take my word for the definition though - go ahead and google it - you’ll find someone with a more studied explanation).

Some of you may have noticed I talk a whole lot about food on this songwriter’s blog, to the point where I often question why I am posting this stuff?  Tonight I figured it out.

Part of Ayurveda is to focus completely on the food you are eating - really appreciate each bite, the aroma, the texture, the temperature, the flavors.  For people who don’t know, life on the road, can be, especially for someone like me who can’t have eggs, corn, dairy, gluten, OR tomatoes (that’s the kicker, isn’t it?), really hard for someone who wants a good warm plate of food at every meal - sometimes it’s good, sometimes warm, sometimes a meal - rarely all three.  Just last week Erin and I were talking about the usual road food options “Meat and cheese? No?  Fried meat and cheese?  Oh, ok, how about potatoes and cheese?  Cheese and meat?”  Sometimes, charmingly, in another language. 

But in cooking these perfect, balanced dishes the past few weeks, and then sitting down to them, not speaking, not reading or writing, just me and the food, I’ve started to understand why people belong together - I’m not crazy - okay, that’s a lie, I am.  But bare with the revelation - when I take in, with all my senses, a full plate of fresh warm vegetables, legumes, spices, grains, I go limp.  It’s involuntary.  Tonight’s meal - a one pot colorful dish of broccoli, okra, red peppers, purple cabbage, millet, tofu, and some herbs and spices  - made me understand as I was sitting here revelling over it and feeling like I would do anything for it (!) - this is why people fall in love; it’s why we’re here.  We’re not here to, literally or metaphorically, just drive ourselves around.  We’re here for experience.  And experience is meant to be shared.  (I might have learned this at the end of ‘Into the Wild’ when Christopher McCandless scrawls in his journal “Happiness is only real when shared”; it did register at the time, but not totally - more like a pre-echo of something I meant to learn.)

*

Now you can have your own nirvana-like meal, if you like - the recipe is “Miletto” - and I got it from a fantastic blogger I just found today (she’s got loads of other recipes as well) - Fran’s House of Ayurveda: http://franlife.blogspot.com/2006/11/recipe-milletto.html

Buon buon appetito,

Jess

My friend Siobhan Begley made this picture - she makes them out of yarn - so brilliant!  She names each one after a song she likes - this one is called Springtime, after my song from Draw Them Near!  I do absolutely feel as excited as a little kid that she made this beautiful picture, with swirls of color and texture and depth, based on my song!!

See more of her work at www.siobhanbegley.com and www.myspace.com/siobhanbegleyart

How did I let 3 weeks pass and not blog?  I passed them eating Mung Dal which I read about in my book on Ayurveda - I took the book with me everywhere I went in New Hampshire and consulted the lists of appropriate foods for my body type before putting anything in my mouth.  A little obsessive I guess, but I like to really dive into things, in case you can’t tell from my music. 

The health food store in Portsmouth had some really nice gluten free muffins made with amaranth and blueberries.  Oh man, those were good.  I stayed on a family farm across from a field, and with a view of a cold but still moving lake.  The morning of my departure a snowstorm blew in - everyone was talking about its coming, as people do before storms.  I guess people there like to snowmobile, so, extra excitement.  I pulled myself together at 6 a.m., put on all my clothes until I was stuffed into my winter coat, and walked out into 9″ of snow.  Stomped through that towards the rental car, which for reasons unknown did not come with a scraper, used the arm of the coat technique, said ’shit’ when the snow got in between my glove and the sleeve, and then burned a quarter tank of gas trying to get the little mustang out of the parking lot…ouch. 

 The whole drive home all I could think was, ‘go slow, speedy, there’s a snowstorm’, and then, once I entered NY State and it was sunny and dry-ish, ‘don’t stop for lunch because you don’t want to be late’.  I guess I wanted the rental car people to like me and think I’m a good citizen… (Oh, dear.).  A courteous van driver stopped in the lane facing me and waved to me to turn into the Enterprise lot - as I’m turning, exhausted but completely on time, in one piece, and with zero damage to the car (Victory!), some Daewoo speeds around the shoulder and hits my bumper: crumple!

I put my face into my hands, but no one was hurt, and if I hadn’t been so shaken I would have been laughing pretty hard - the cops didn’t think it was funny, and neither did the poor bloke who’d hit me, since he was clearly at fault for passing on the right, on the shoulder - but I appreciated the irony. 

 When I walked inside, the woman who’d rented me the car looked at me disapprovingly and all I could think was: ‘I’m not at fault!’   And ‘I had it here on time!’ 

I think next time I’ll just risk not being liked by the rental people. 

The Amex agent was all “mmm hmmm, and why don’t you go ahead and read me the plate number for the car?  Mmm hmm, and why don’t you tell me the other driver’s name?  Mmm hmmm, and yes (sigh) there’s zero deductible, so don’t worry…”

Apart from that I’ve been in my little room scheming, learning blues riffs, making them mine, stomping around in furry boots on cold wet concrete, reading Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore.  The man has a way with allegory, and an incredible sense of humor.  I ride the subway with a huge grin on my face looking at the pages - in his story of a 15 year old runaway in Japan, and an elderly man who lost consciousness while on a class trip during WWII - suddenly Johnny Walker and Colonel Sanders waltz in, talking philosophy/smack - it’s great.  Colonel Sanders is sort of a spiritual pimp - in the story anyway.

More stories soon  - enjoy the early snow, if they have that in your area.

 jk