A wonderful evening off. A wonderful evening on.

Hello folks!

If you are not familiar with Austin - shame on you - but it's a fantastic city, growing like a weed...or in my opinion a Sun Flower or a Rose Bush or something quite more lovely (lovelier) than a weed. When I came here back in 1993, I was fresh off the plane from having lived in Milan for a few months. I was terrified that there wouldn't be any good coffee. At that time in the most parts of the U.S., coffee was still watery brown tasteless stuff. But thank god, Little City coffee shop was here and brand new on Congress Ave.

Well, today, goodness, there are a million fabulous coffee shops and restaurants and bars. But many people who have lived here for a while regret this massive city growth. I can understand. I miss Liberty Lunch. I miss Les Amis on campus (which is now a freakin Starbucks!). But, there's also something so beautiful about this baby town turning into a major metropolitan area. I happen to love the sprucing up of downtown. I love the condos, I love the eateries, the shops, the style. Austin still has all of that charm it once had, it's just having a make-over, but the heart is still here. And I hope that the City Council focuses on keep the music scene alive and thriving. HELP!

I had Thursday evening off. Jane and I were invited to drink and dine at the Four Seasons hotel here in Austin. It still has that fabulous established hotel feeling and it seems they are excited about the W Hotel coming to town. (As am I...the W Hotel is always so fiiiiiiine!). Anyway, I have had drinks many times at our local Four Seasons lobby bar. It hasn't changed a bit as long as I have known it. But what I didn't know what that the downstairs restaurant, Trio, has been completely updated. They did a fabulous job! Our dinner was wonderful and creative. The wine was beautiful. Luckily, I didn't see the tab, but however much it was, it had to have been worth it. The staff was more than pleasant. The atmosphere was sexy, casual or dressy, whatever you prefer. We sat eating Tenderloin and Truffle Fries, next to Senator Harry Reed and his Secret Service folks. After dinner, we took dessert outside on their hip and sweet patio facing Town Lake (or is it Lady Bird Lake?).

The conflict for this restaurant/bar is finding the balance between an exclusive hotel environment and an open-to-the-public space. It IS open to the public, but finding a public who wouldn't...say...bother the Senator...is very important. I refrained from talking to him about the Stimulus Package.

So, if you are looking for a romantic dinner or a bottle of wine in a private, mature, beautiful place, try Trio at the Four Seasons! That was my night off. Thanks to our host for an evening of being treated like Princesses. Mmmmm...I love being pampered.

Tonight is my night ON. I love pampering my audience with an hour and a half of joy via music. I play tonight at Momo's Club in Austin, where the stage is big and the venue is warm and inviting. It has been a while since I have played full-band in Austin, so I hope for a strong and happy audience for whom I can entertain. And let's just hope that I am "on" for my night "on". (And Marie will be on stage too, playing percussion, along with Stew on Keys, Perry on Drums, and Kris Brown on Bass! I love that!)

In the meantime, I am watching this dreary wet cold weather swing on through town (WAIT, there's the sun!). One of the great things about the venue, Momo's, is that there is an outdoor patio. When the weather is ugly (rarely), they usually close the big doors and everyone if forced inside. As a performer, that's not so bad - that way people will be closer to the stage, and hopefully listening a little more attentively. But as a patron, I think it's the patio that is part of the draw to Momo's, especially if you are a smoker. So, I'm watching the weather dance around this morning. This is Austin...we might have Winter and Summer all in one day.

Mmmmm.....I love it. I've been away a lot in the past few years. It's nice to be home, getting to know this city again.

Be in touch, my dolls.

-G Leigh

The Sun should warm you

She is bright, brilliant, one full bust. Hotter than the desert sands midday in August. She blinds your eyes and upon your shoulders she rests. You feel no weight, only her touch upon chest. The chilly breeze battles her, and your skin lifts; little bumps of joy where this war with Sun and Breeze exist.

You are awakened to the bruises under your eyes as the Sun shows the restless sleep in disguise. Or is it that she hasn't removed her makeup the night before, after vodka cocktails and midnight hor d'ourves?

She questions herself, this scene around her. Its beauty, its lust, its twisted candor. Dragging her or lifting her into a conversation with God. The water froze in the night, but gone with the Sun. She is here to melt it like she melts your blood. A lover of you, the world of love.

"My lady, you're a tramp," says the Sun to the Breeze. And I giggle having mistaken that she was talking to me. The Breeze replies "Have dinner with me." But the Sun regrets that is an impossibility. "I will be on the other side, my dear. You'll have to talk to the Moon, I fear." I raise my hand to ask if I can speak, and offer to cook for the Moon and the Breeze.

Time is passing as the yellow glow descends behind rooftops, chimneys and broken limbs. The Breeze stays with me for flowing Vodka and Cotes du Rhone. The Moon approaches chivalrous, we curtsy alone.

Garlic, Tomatoes and Olive Oil, we three we feast. A menage a trois, before I sleep. Eyes so tight, to the Moon so long. I will cheat on you in the morning with Sun.

-Ginger Leigh

A cold quiet morning

I could hardly sleep last night - my neck all bent up from unfamiliar pillow. Half way through my half-slept night I almost braved the 17 degree weather to go to the car and grab my frozen pillow from the back. But in half-sleep and warmth, I couldn't muster the courage.

I finally gave up on sleep because the neck pain made me too stiff and simply got out of bed early. With two layers of sweatpants and two sweaters and an overcoat, I stood in the chill, coffee cup in my bare hands, and watched the nothingness of morning's solitude.

Funny how the nothingness of solitude is packed full of muchness. At first glance, there seems to be nature in frozen paralysis and that's all. At second glance (and with that striking feeling of only 17 degrees on your face) you begin to wake up and see that in this space, where no human is roaming except for yourself who is standing in it, there are at least living things that seem to breathe; trees with broken limbs from last week's ice storm, bushes man-cut to the shape of a triangle, grass struggling to turn green as winter struggles to pass.

The picture becomes clearer - although silence is about you, no cars, no yapping dogs, no tap-tap on the keyboard, no phone ringers - you hear the slight buzz from the electrical wires, you hear the hot tub churning, a bird shakes a tiny limb and in this stillness, it's almost orchestral and alarming. There is fullness all about you. The steam from your coffee cup is bold enough to elevate into the still and it creates waves in the air. You think you see the ivy climb the tree trunks in a race to get to the top. Your thoughts seem too loud, they are fighting for the spotlight above the silence which almost seems loud in-and-of-itself. You are not alone on this frozen, silent morning. You are among everythingness and you remember that you are part of its beautifully unique tapestry.

Good morning, my loves, good morning.

-Ginger