Random Acts
The news this week has been heavy. So…here’s a little uplifting story about serendipity: the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way. Ready?
I belong to an organization called Women In Music or WIM. WIM’s main mission is to celebrate the female contribution to the music world and strengthen community ties. I’m all in!
We all receive intermittent emails from other members who’re seeking a publicist recommendation or an attorney etc… Many ‘Wimmers’ are just starting out and need the support. Admittedly, clicking on a non-urgent message depends on whether I have time on my hands…which I often don’t. 😫
That said a few years ago I clicked…someone was asking if anyone local to LA had a weighted keyboard she could borrow during her upcoming trip. I was like…umm…I have a weighted keyboard. And it’s sitting right…over…there. But my next thought was: who is this girl? What if I lend her my keyboard I never got it back? What if she’s a nut? Why couldn’t she have just inquired of a lawyer? Sigh. I wrote her back. Yes I had one. Come and get it.
The girl…um, woman…”Stacey” -— couldn’t have been sweeter. We sat in my kitchen and had-a-cup. She was an aspiring songwriter/artist — I figured as much — from Toronto. Really? It just so happened I was going to be in Toronto the following week and I was hoping to find a venue at which to perform and promote my new book. Without missing a beat she said…wait a minute. She had a relationship with a studio owner. She’d make a call and arrange for Toronto WIMMERs to fill the room.
Off she went with my keyboard.
In fact 100 women showed up at that studio. Songs were played. Wine was served. Books were sold. Stacey attended herself via Facebook.
A few weeks later she returned my keyboard. 😳
The next time Stacey came to town I offered her my home to stay in as I was traveling. She took impeccable care of my kitties (of whom she sent daily pictures),retrieved my mail and watered the plants. In exchange she had a baby grand at her fingertips, outdoor yoga space and a pool.
When I returned from my travels I found a matchbook with artwork from her latest EP and of course I listened to it (not the matchbook…the EP!) I thought she showed a lot of promise. But so do so many others.
We stayed in touch and then we lost touch. Covid etc…
Cut to a few months ago — I downloaded an All New Indie playlist. (To be honest I’m sick of the “Fucks,” Ho’s” and “Bitches” on the Top 50 - Yes, this…coming from the gal who co-wrote “Bitch.”) I hearted the tracks I liked so I could dive deeper later. One of the songs I hearted was by an artist also named “Stacey.” And when I listened to the full album I fell madly and obsessively in love with it. A little Karen Carpenter, a little Lana Del Rey…dreamy, spaced out, nostalgic. The artist wasn’t doing that hip-singing thing (“Have a holly jolly Christmois”) or mimicking Billie Eilish. Or anyone else.
Right around the same time I had been planning another trip and was trying to think of someone who would house sit for 2 full weeks. I assumed Stacey (the keyboard borrower) was home in Toronto for the length of the pandemic but as Covid was slowing down maybe she’d come back.
Coincidentally, I received an email from her for the first time in a while with a link to her new record. When I pressed play I was like, what? Wait a minute. I referenced that Inde Playlist and it was her. Stacey-the- keyboard-borrower was Stacey-the artist-I-fell-in-love-with. No! Yes! I had been listening to that record on repeat for weeks. Who knew? Girl could have been obnoxiously in my face about it. She wasn’t. It’s unusual these days to be humble when we all know we have to self-promote to make a mark.
Her Insta was filled with artsy images and clips — some of her sitting at a piano a al Carole King…others of her moving about in vintage couture and hair, winged eyeliner. My daughter loves “her aesthetic.”
Anyway. I called her to tell her how excited I was about her PROGRESS (to say the least) and…asked if it would be possible for her to stay at my place again when I went away.
As I write this she’s sending me those daily photos of my cat, playing my piano and…driving my car !!! I’ve moved on from the preciousness of my keyboard.
I’m not sure what the moral of the story is or if there even is one. Perhaps…Don’t underestimate aspiring songwriters? Well, of course there’s that. Don’t be so precious about your stuff? Yeah. Trust people more? Uh huh. But maybe there’s something to be said about those random acts of kindness (and clicks) being good for your soul. I don’t think we should do them however, because we “should” or because we believe we’ll be rewarded in some way. We should do them because, well, IMO when the Universe sees us dispensing kindness it conspires to extend the kindness in many directions…but only if the Universe is sure that was never our expectation.
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