Frank ‘Sugar Chile’ Robinson was eight years old when he performed Caldonia in the 1946 MGM Film No Leave No Love. His pure boogie-woogie is notable not only because he is so young, but because of his unique playing style, where he uses fists and slams to create his fabulous sound. Neither of his parents were musicians and by age two he was playing the piano by ear, formulating his own style based on “what worked”. View the video here.

Soon after we found it, we happened to be watching a video of the great jazz pianist Thelonius Monk playing the piano in the 50′s. He, too, plays in a unique, very personal style, bundled fingers seeming to slam the keys to make stunningly clear sounds, and often playing with one hand crossed over the other instead of following the usual divided down the middle piano style: left plays left of middle, right plays right of middle. He started playing the piano when he was six years old and was said to be self-taught. View his video here.

These guys just PLAY; they figured it out themselves. The message to us: formal schooling and traditional methods are NOT necessarily the best route to creating something true. Nor necessarily essential.

I’ve observed him now for a couple mornings, and haven’t quite known what to think. That’s probably in large part due to the fact that I only see him before ten, which historically is a time in which my brain functions about about 20%. This morning though, I sat over my coffee-ish stuff long enough to watch him a little more and let it all sink in. What I saw was extraordinary.

The waffles here at the Clarion Hotel are the only thing you cant just get up and grab. For whatever reason, they have to be made in the back. Here’s where the Waffle Man comes in. You get your food, his job is to make you a waffle. This probably fifty-something year old Mexican man who has been doing this job here for 27 years (!!!) doesn’t just make your waffle though. He greets every person that walks in with the sweetest smile, asks how you are, endearingly calls every guy “champion” and every gal “bonita”, and straights sells everyone on these waffles – which he will delightedly put whipped cream from the canister in his holster on if you’d like. I’m not a waffle person per say, but how could I say no? It’s not just a breakfast pastry he’s serving. Waffle Man dishes styrofoam plate after plate of pure joy. It’s not from a just-add-water mix like the waffles either… What I get from waffle man is authentic, pure happiness and love. He’s got that sparkle in his eye like Santa Claus and Paul McCartney. I’ve come across people with this je me sais quoi quality before. It doesnt matter what they do, or how, or where, they always do it with all of them, like everyone is watching, because its the most important thing in the world. Maybe somebody like this can run for president, hm? With this kind, there’s something magical within. Or maybe it’s that they have chosen to see the magic that exists everywhere in life. To me, they are creating their own magic, and it is certainly contagious.

It’s silly and embarrassing that I’ve been bummed out because my musical dialect at the moment isn’t perfectly hitting home 110% every second. If I didn’t have a commitment with myself to always honor my feelings and processes no matter how obsurd, I might be a little ashamed of not being entirely thrilled with the brilliance of my life recently. But all of that can exist at times, and I’m just grateful that those feelings have been obliterated for now… by the extraordinary Mr. Waffle Man who cooks up perfectly soft on the inside and crispy on the outside helpings of perspective, optimism, joy, presence, and sparkly smiles at the Clarion on the side of the highway in Stuart, Florida every morning until 10. May you make this world a more beautiful place with every grinning breakfast pastry for at least another 27 years. Thank you for what you do. I am so incredibly inspired!!!

Heres the truth: besides being fantastically distracted by a visit from my love during a 4 day break in Florida (photos to come), every day I have thought to myself that I should write. I honestly haven’t known what to write about though. Ive straight up had writers block. Theres a fine line between complaining and simply saying it how it is. The facts are that our show is the same, the schedule is the same, my routine is the same. My feelings about that are that my life is feeling pretty monotonous. After two and a half months straight, that probably isn’t too much of a surprise. The silver lining though, is that im learning how to generate inspiration for myself.

What fuels me as an artist? What makes me want to create, work harder, say more, or just say something at all? Well, I realized, that for me it’s often the intake of other art. In my dreamy San Francisco existence I get to take in live shows many nights a week. These other musicians that I admire so much ignite something within me. Somehow by hearing what they are saying musically, I feel this need to add my voice to the world of sound. The tour that I’m on is somewhat of an isolated existence. Or schedule makes it pretty impossible for us to go to other shows (aside from NY City Ballet in New York and NY Phil in Amsterdam both on days off), and we’re generally so exhausted that not a whole lot of jamming happens within the band.

So after i pouted for about a week, I decided I was super over feeling anything less than on fire. I was sent away with an army of music documentaries from many genres, which I started devouring like my life depended on it (it actually might). Stevie Wonder. Tom Petty. The Beatles. The Wrecking Crew. Tribe Called Quest. Somehow I forgot that these gods of humans made noise in the world! How could I not be ecstatic? Its an honor to orbit in and around a world with, if nothing else, the same word “music” associated with it.

The legendary guitarist Tommy Tedesco said “There are four reasons to take a gig: for the money, the experience, the connections or the fun”. I believe I took this gig for all of those reasons and it’s time to amp it up. I’m the only one in control!

Frozen canals

Dutch Irish coffee

Sunset walk

Inside the Concertgebouw

And the pannenkoeken!

You might want to mute the sound if you don’t want to hear my sniffly nose and silly cooing, but take a look at these adorable love bunnies here!

I have always felt that music is the language of my life, the mother tongue of all spiritual essence that I relate to, and the way I myself speak my most true. You could say that music is my yoga; yoga is my music; the teacher through which I learn my lessons; the life long practices exemplified. When I was a young violinist I would perform at my 7 or 8 year old recital and my mom would ask me how I felt it went. Time and time again I would not being able to recall the details of my performance. I would remember standing on stage and playing, but beyond that, it was just music. It occurred to me somewhat later in life that I didn’t remember any “thing” because “things” were thoughts, and I had none when I was performing. And then quite a bit later in life, I realized that little Shaina was completely present, devoid of thoughts of past, future, critical. Without trying, or even knowing what it was, I was with a completely one pointed mind.

And that happened. Wasn’t that nice? I was a little sage for like, a minute, before I became a normal city dwelling twenty something year old musician with approximately one million three hundred thousand sixty four things on my plate and directions to run – or sprint, depending on the day – at any given moment. To tell you the truth, I really thrive on that life style and generally balance the plate at least decently well (my secret involves the art of catching fallen items mid air before they hit jagged ground). I enjoy wearing the different hats and the patchwork quilt which became my life. There is always excitement, something new, and several doors swinging on their hinges waiting to fly open. While I am not exactly the personification of Dharana, I always try to remember the birds on my arm and why I decided to make them part of me for ever.

So… all this background to get to now. Haha. Ironic. But basically, with this new job, I was thrust into the present moment and I was so in it I didn’t even have thoughts enough to realize it, until the other day. For all of December, learning my massive amount of Barrage music was my mantra: over and over again all day and night I was living it, and it’s all I did. One pointed mind. Then I was suddenly on stage in China, thinking constantly about every limb of my body in each second, practicing and rehearsing during the days. Again, one pointed mind. Of course it was out of necessity. There wasn’t enough time to think about anything else, and the task at hand was such that I would literally fall off if I let my mind wonder for even a moment. But still, it brought me to a really special state of mind.

Now the music is under my fingers, our set feels awesome and I have a blast on stage nightly. Finally! Ive been dreaming about this day for months! And you see too that I have enough mental space that my mind is woooonnndering… at least enough to think about all of this. I have become comfortable with this routine and am just sort of in the swing of tour. I think about when I will get to go home, sleep in my own bed, and see my loved ones. Unfortunately there is no answer to that question yet, which partially drives my crazy, but I also see as a great opportunity to engage my tools and stay present. It’s an extraordinary gift I’ve been given – this time, almost outside of time, doing what I love, yet having time to go for runs in the fairy tale woods (totally saw Hanzel and Gretel’s crumbs, Rapunzel’s tower, and seven funny lookin little bearded dudes this morning), watch birds and bunnies, practice, read, and write. Time out of time. One pointed mind. Dharana.