Author Archives: Carla Bean

I’m Baaaack

My album is being shipped!! You will hear it soon. Pretty Awesome. It took longer than I care to think about. That’s What happens when you don’t have three million dollars, but still want it to sound like it cost that much to record.

In other news, I’ve just moved to Los Angeles, CA I love it here, I miss the east coast though. Fortunately, I still have a lot of business in Philly and beyond, so I’ll definitely be going back and forth.

I still have crazy crazy dreams, but I’ve just been so busy. Lucky for you. I’ll be back to dump my dreams on you…

weird birds.

A Lot of times my dreams contain vivid memories, that seem so real while I’m still dreaming. I think it’s my mind’s way of setting up the story, without taking up time. Last night I had a dream that I had a distinct childhood memory of a big, colorful, whimsical kind of bird called the Winzoar Pterry Dopfer Dopfer. These Goofy birds would swirl around in the sky like kites, with their long feathers trailing behind; and with no warning: they would plunge straight down without a drop of grace. I’ll draw you a picture one day.

Tri-Folds

I Thought I’d share this Facebook Album. You know those pictures that you fold into three sections; One person draws a head, one person draws a middle, and one person draws the legs- all without seeing the other sections(beside the very bottom of the previous section?) Well these are …those. Our obsession took place about 10 years ago. I was involved in a majority of them, as well as many siblings, friends, and cousins. Enjoy.

Click here. These are not for the faint of heart.

Click here. These are not for the faint of heart.



Paper Maché Aliens

I had a dream that there were some horribly evil, really unrealistic, bright-green aliens. They were killing folks left and right. It wasn’t just zapping and vaporizing, there was some decapitating and skinning too. Since the aliens were capable of such atrocities, and also, because they looked like they were made from painted paper maché, what we did next didn’t seem so wrong.
There was a big abandoned art studio that a small group of us came across while we were trying to avoid the horror. Much to our delight, there were babies and children of the aliens, unattended, so, when we heard their parents coming, we decided to kill the youngin’s and hide inside their bodies. It worked well, but I knew I couldn’t stay there forever, I also knew that If the aliens were willing to torture us before, the fact that we killed their children, may have made things worse.
I did a very sneaky good job of escaping, but once the aliens saw their precious little offspring’s gutted carcasses, they were right on our tails. I ran around a city block, and a friend of mine invited my into his fortress, which was a high-end department store. An alien must have squeezed though the stone gate right as it was closing behind me, so, conveniently, I started to fly. My flying actually turned out to be worse than my running, as I was only able to slowly levitate above ground level… that’s when I woke up.

In the Studio

Whilst my producer, Rubin, asks me how the latest mix sounds, I look up and say, “sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,”  and make him play it again… I guess since my active roll in this album is winding down (all the writing, singing, and piano playing aspects are laid down) all there is left for me to do, is nod or shake my head at post-production actions. Still, it’s important for me to be here and focussed… focus, however,  is not my greatest talent.

I always feel the need to multitask when there is a lot of downtime, or even just a lack of physical involvement, like now. Maybe I have the propensity towards divided attention ,because, as a singer /piano player, my brain is spit into at least six independent parts while performing; singing, lyrical recall, right hand, left hand, right foot pedal, left foot keeping beat, you could even count presence, and cuing the band… Yikes! This is starting to sound like an Andy Rooney rant… Anyway, a few months ago I was holding my brand new nephew for the first time totally in-love and drawn in by his gurgles and giggles, yet I found myself thinking, “besides holding a baby, which, let’s face it, is pretty easy, I’m not really doing anything”… so I inched over toward my trendy smartphone and checked my e-mail. If we can’t sit still while looking into the eyes of a baby, or taking-in the vast beauty of a landscape, or even something that requires undivided attention, like, driving; that’s pretty sad. I’m much more a fan of  seizing the moment… often, with both hands.

When I sleep, instead of counting sheep, which has no benefit beyond boring me to sleep … I do something with more mental tedium, and much more benefit to my future; like recalling notes on a grand staff, or memorizing lyrics. If I’m waiting for my hair to dry, why not practice piano? If I’m confined to a bomb-shelter because there’s the threat of nuclear holocaust, I could easily occupy my time until I pass-out from near starvation (2 to 3 hours.)

It’s hard to live in the moment and focus on one thing at a time these days when the bar is set so high. Everyone’s accomplishments are up on youtube, there is always a world record to beat, a instrument solo to improve upon, while tap-dancing… all before the age of three. The best we can do these days is bring our own flavor of kick-ass to the table. As for me, my hindquarters are numb now, so I’ll do some squats, while blogging, and giving second opinions on the EQ of that guitar track.

No internet = Productive two weeks

I know what  it looks like. I haven’t been blogging or status updating or interneting in general,  for two weeks, so I must have been entertaining myself with food induced hallucinations. Not true. I’ve been advancing myself musically… recording, practicing, writing, and yes, eating… so there.

I really do try to keep up with this dream blogging thing, but here is my problem: I wake up with a head full of crazy dreams, I scan over them to make sure I remember them, and I fall asleep scanning.  I’ve taken to recording my voice giving certain cues, as soon as I wake up,  in hopes that it will trigger my memory of a dream.  Here is an example of one I just listened to: “um… little red riding hood had a… skin license? um it was to that you could put any sort of explicit content into it…”  I can’t say I have anything but a vague memory of that dream, so I guess my only hope is to record my dreams in full detail as soon as i wake up. Dang.

Sorry for not blogging mommy.

SORRY. Sorry I’ve abandoned you Mr. blog. Sorry I haven’t been smearing my disturbing nightmares s all over your cyber-pages. I’ve had so many dreams that you would find mildly interesting; Like the one about me watching a video tape of my life in high school, while two HUGE mallards swam out of the screen towards me… Or the one about me sitting at an ice cream shop with Bill Clinton, and crying like a two-year-old and screaming, and smashing my birthday cake…
You’d think I would get more bloggy stuff done, whilst the snow was upon us. Nope. I’m just not a very consistent doer of anything… not type A. I’ll sit at my piano for 6 straight hours and practice- in the middle of the night- rather than setting a strict hour-and-day thing. No matter how hard I try, I just don’t work that way. I won’t remember your birthday… so you’ll just have to accept that.
I will say, I’m driven, and I do get a lot done, I guess I’m just a slave to inspiration, not schedules. I Think most artsy people are like that, that’s the real reason they are starving… they forget to eat.