The Mad Little Butterfly
So I was in a music video.
Okay, back that up a bit, so I sang on an album.
My dear friend The Wolf, whom I like to describe as “annoyingly talented” has a band called Wolpertinger. They are a magnificent hodgepodge of musicians and artist who come together under the banner of The Wolf’s brilliant song writing talents and make good music, or as they describe themselves:
Wolpertinger is an eclectic group of musicians in Reno who are planning on continuing with creating interesting sounding songs about interestingly thought out subjects
You can find them here. My voice is featured on the track titled “End of the Century” and I’m still damn proud of it. What I’m really most proud of is the story behind that song.
The Wolf, Gibby, and I were living the poor bohemian lifestyle. We made very little money and owned very little things. The Wolf and Gibby were roommates in a basement on a street named after a duck, and I lived in a horrible apartment where the ceiling leaked with enough frequency that a large Tupperware was in permanent residence in my living room. I preferred the basement.
One night, as I was doing dishes, I began to sing. Gibby took a break from his work to walk over and hug me. From the way The Wolf tells it, this was the moment he watched from the kitchen table: Three bohemians loving and living art in what most people would consider “sad circumstances”. It was at this moment that he thought the phrase “Where’s Toulouse Lautrec when you need him?”
Fast forward through The Wolf writing a brilliant and beautiful song, which is more his story to tell, to me having a bad night and sitting on the porch at the duck street. The Wolf, in a stroke of genius said, “How would you like to be irresponsible,” I had a deadline for a poster design looming “and sing with Gibby on End of the Century”. What could I say but “yes”?
So I sang on an album.
The recording was fun and exhilarating and everything taking part in art is supposed to feel like. The Wolf made use of my limited opera training in college and I now have a song that reminds me of the beginning of that wonderful, if hectic and terrifying, time in my life.
Fast forward through me starting this blog, getting a job in a coffee shop, going blonde and moving into a friend’s attic with Gibby, to The Wolf getting asked by a director with a new camera if there was a song he wanted to make a music video for.
So I was in a music video.
It’s not the video we would have made. The Wolf says the only thing he likes about the video is me running around like a mad little butterfly and Gibby looking so stern/confused. But I will always have fond memories of sitting under that bridge wedged shivering between The Wolf and Gibby and watching the rain start to make patterns on the river.
“What the hell are we doing?” I asked Gibby
“What we’ll probably be doing for the rest of our lives” he said
It’s uncanny how that man predicts the future so well. We live in L.A. now where he makes his living working on commercials and yes, music videos.
Here it is,
I’m wearing my grandmother’s slip, authentic Go Go boots, a fabulous hat from Gibby’s Grandmother, and a coat I’ve had since High School. The Wolf is playing my beloved Anansi, a guitar with a story worthy of its own post. And watching it now, I do look like a mad little butterfly. A very mad little vintage butterfly with raucous friendship with the living statue musician and a bit of a crush on the man with the bowtie and the book.