This weeks Tea and Talk includes a highlight reel from the CD Release Party at the Hard Rock Cafe! Enjoy!

This week on Tea and Talk….exclusive behind the scenes footage! With special guest appearances by Jenny May, Frank Grizanti, Anthony Custode, Alex Cousins, an ice heap and my slippers!

Ok….Here’s the 3rd installment….This week’s Tea and Talk features ‪the Black and Blue/White and Gold dress and the brilliant use of it by South Africa to help stop abuse against women. ‪

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As promised…here’s episode #2. Dont forget to subscribe to the YouTube Channel to receive weekly updates!

Watch the first installment of Tuesday Tea and Talk with Christina! Be sure to subscribe to the YouTube channel to get the weekly notification.

Let’s start by making one thing clear. I know nothing about the state of Pennsylvania. I don’t know geographically where their cities are, how their road ways work, what’s down there, or who lives there. So when I was invited to showcase and speak on a panel as part of the Millennium Music Conference #19 in Harrisburg PA, I thought GREAT, AWESOME, LET’S DO IT! Pennsylvania is super close to New York, right? On the map it’s right under us! And I’ve seen signs to Erie when I go to the fair in the summer, and that’s in Pennsylvania, so this should be a great little 45 minute trip! For those of you who know nothing about the state of Pennsylvania (like me a week ago), let me tell you what I discovered. Harrisburg is actually on the complete other side of Pennsylvania, and it’s actually a giant rectangle, and in order to get there from Buffalo, you actually have to go diagonally across the state. It’s actually a 5 hour drive without stops and traffic and…snow. Because let’s face it, it’s February, so snow will be happening. BUT! This conference was going to be worth it…a new city, a new venue, a new group of people, a new network. Exactly what I’m looking for…remember those New Years goals…?

So we packed the car, including a new wind screen from the bulk pack I ordered from Amazon after I neglected my last one in NYC, and headed down. The first little bit through New York was effortless. Clean pavement, clear sky, I think the sun was even out which was a fantastic thing to see…it was flat flat flat flat and then KABOOM! Tiny mountains and winding roads and big open spaces…we had crossed the state line. How is it possible that terrain can change so fast!? It’s almost like New York and Pennsylvania had a discussion…”I’ll be flat, and then you can be all hilly, but we won’t tell anyone” “haha yes, that’s a great idea” Where there weren’t winding twisting roads going through these devious hills, there were huge open spaces. And it was cold…really cold…and anyone who knows anything about snow knows what big open spaces + super cold snow + wind means. White outs. Needless to say, the rest of the drive was not effortless. It was hard. But we made it! We got a much needed drink and turned in for the night.

The next day was full of listening to panels, taking feverish notes, meeting with industry professionals, mentoring, walking, talking, getting coffee, more panels, meeting other artists, more talking, making new friends, more networking, more twittering, and more coffee. And then before I knew it, it was time to get ready for my first showcase. A 45 minute set at Carley’s Ristorante and Piano Bar, 204 Locust Street Harrisburg PA. An address that was entered into the GPS and ultimately led us to a residential area 2 miles away from the venue. Never to fear, Siri was there, and she directed us to the correct 204 Locust Harrisburg PA, just in time for dinner and drinks before the set.

We got to the venue, had some wine and cheese and dinner and enjoyed listening to the other artists who were slotted before me. I was supposed to start at 9:30, but when the act before me was nowhere to be found, I started early…and wound up playing 2 full sets, about 1:30 of originals! And it was great! Hung out with some friends I met earlier in the day that came to listen, made some tips, sold some CD’s, nicknamed the waiter “Ti Amo” because he needed an Italian name. That’s a success in my book.

The next day was a continuation of the first. New panels, more mentoring, more networking, visiting with the artist friends I made the day before. The panel I was speaking on happened at 2:30, and it was great sharing my crowd funding experience with others!

The news was on in the hotel bar and they were forecasting a “snowstorm” for that night. It was 18 degrees out (heat wave anyone?), and it was dusting snow…nothing to be concerned about in my book. I decided to watch the weather, but had every intention of making the show. I came here to play, not to sit in the hotel because it was sneezing snow. This was nothing. A little later in the afternoon, some of the venues started to close due to the “storm”. The act before me cancelled and asked me to cover their slot…which I agreed to. And then the act before them did the same. I was originally scheduled to start at 11, but figured I would start at 9:30 and see how the crowd went. If everyone left because of the weather, I would pack up too.

I called Carley’s to make sure they were staying open, got ready and took off. Apparently they don’t plow or salt the roads in Pennsylvania…so it took a little longer, but still…I certainly wouldn’t have considered it the apocalyptic storm it was made out to be. A couple of inches of slush…child’s play. “Ti amo” was tending bar, we got a bottle of wine and some cheese, listened to the artists who had the 8:00 and 8:30 slots and went up around 9:30. My plan was to play a little over an hour and feel the crowd out, if everyone left because of the storm, I would do the same. I made friends with two gentlemen at the bar that I affectionately named Chuck and Bob and played my first 75 min set. Chuck, Bob, Ti Amo, and the rest of the bar were happy people! They found the tip jar! And my CDs! We laughed about their “snow storm” and the set flew by.

Around 10:45 the door opened. “She started early!” One of the group of 7 said…looks like I was staying. I took a quick 10 minute break, got a tea and a fresh water, and went back up to play my original 11:00 time slot- in full.

By the end of the set, it was close to midnight. I had played and sang over 3 sets of original material straight (excluding the 10 minute tea break) to a healthy bar. I was tired. Tired and really really happy. I put on my coat and headed back to the room. It wasn’t until 2am that I woke up and realized I had left my windscreen, once again, in the bar.

This last week has been busy. Over the past seven days, I have entered three songwriting competitions, recorded two videos (one professional and one…well, not), became a social media socialite and put finishing touches on a new song. The constant posting, voting, liking, favoriting, retweeting, friending, tweeting, and instagram-ing is exhausting…not to mention the recording, editing, writing, and rewriting. Although I would absolutely love to win ALL of these competitions, I am fully aware that this is simply not going to happen. Actually, I most likely will not win any of them. And yet, despite all of the work and energy I have poured into my submissions, I’m ok with that…because completing these projects has been a fulfilling process, and I am once again reminded of the wisest thing I was ever told.

“The music will never let you down” – Vincent Lenti, 2008, after a particularly disappointing performance.

I will never forget this particular piano lesson. I had played a Bach prelude and fugue as part of a departmental recital the previous Saturday…the prelude was stunning…as was the fugue, but unfortunately, not in a good way. I was so disappointed in myself, I had practiced my butt off for weeks, and when it was time to show everyone, it just didn’t happen. It just didn’t happen. So I beat myself up the entire weekend until my lesson, which was on Monday at 4:30. I walked in, sat down, and we started to talk about the recital. I was a mess. And I will never forget what he said. “Listen…a single performance does not define you as a musician. It’s just a moment in time, and this is a lifelong journey. Certain performances are going to let you down and disappoint you, but the music will never let you down. So take yourself out of it, it’s about the music, not about you.” The lesson continued, and I played the fugue without error…which was even more frustrating at the time. I went back to my apartment and thought about what he said. Then I slept on it…for a few years.

7 years later, and guess what, he was right! Performances, opportunities, and people HAVE let me down. But the music has not.

So maybe I don’t win any of these contests. Maybe I don’t get enough likes or votes or retweets or hearts or thumbs up or whatever. This is a lifelong journey, and the music will never let me down.

If you want to check out my submissions from this week, visit:
http://www.doihaveahitsong.com/multimedia/high-water/
For this competition, you can vote everyday!

You are my sunshine competition:

NPR tiny desk contest:

This past year has really been something. It had its fair share of disappointment, sadness, impatience and frustration. It’s brought questionable people with questionable motives both in and out if my life. It has brought loss, heartbreak, and anger. At its worst- 2014 has been a royal pain. However, it has also brought tremendous generosity, excitement, opportunity and progress. It has brought hope, new friends, change, and laughter. It’s amazing to think of what has transpired this year, some things seem so far in the past (when in reality they were just a few months ago). There are a few favorite moments that stick out. I completed writing and recording my first ever full length album, connected and worked with world renown producer Stuart Epps, and then had it funded through amazing Kickstarter fans (who were once strangers and now feel like family). I’ve brought my performances outside of the region for multiple shows in several cities across New York and was part of one of the largest Fringe Festivals in the United States. I filmed my first ever music video, which currently has almost 2,000 views in less than four months (you should watch that by the way). I’ve written a lot of music, met some new people, drank a lot of coffee, eaten a lot of cheese, and started writing this blog. I’m sure I’m missing things, but these experiences (minus the cheese) are paramount. The momentum this year has been nothing short of incredible! At its best- 2014 was truly memorable. 2014 was also responsible enough to plan a little for 2015. I have exciting performance engagements pending across the north east, the official release of “From Here”, and five new pieces ready to be worked over and over for the next album…that’s right, I haven’t even officially released this one and I’m already working on the next one…it’s a vicious cycle.

I don’t make resolutions, but I do have some professional goals for this upcoming year. I’m hoping that by sharing them here, we can double check how I did – 365 days from now.

1) Write more. I want to set aside time to write every single day. Even if I don’t get very far. I want a date with my pencil, scratch book, piano, and manuscript paper-every day.
2) Perform more. Locally. Regionally. Pennsylvania, New York, Ohio, Massachusetts.
3) Dare I say it…tour! It can be tiny. It can be huge. Whatever it is, I’m going.
4) Open for someone
5) Do more yoga…because my realistic side is freaking out…this is an aggressive list.

But that’s what goals and dreams should do. They should lead you out of your comfort zone and give you something to keep pushing for. 2014 was a year of progress for me. 2015 will be a year of action. I certainly hope you take a moment to reflect on this year…the good, the bad, the ugly, and to appreciate each experience for what it was. Here’s wishing you and yours a happy and healthy new year…cheers to 2015!

Songwriting is a very personal thing. It is a process that is challenging emotionally, creatively, and musically. It is hard to understand this process, especially for those who don’t write, and on certain occasions I have been confronted with this dilemma. “Why’d you write that?” “Where did that come from?” “Is that about me!?” It is especially difficult when those who have inspired my music don’t understand this process. Since I don’t live in a bubble, and have feelings, often people and situations in my life manifest themselves into pieces of music. It is important to keep in mind that none of my music is meant to be malicious or hurtful. Each piece is simply a snapshot in time of a personal reaction to a particular situation or event. Opinions, perspective, and feelings all change and evolve over time- but that song remains specific to a certain moment- in the past. The process usually looks something like this.
1. Something happens
2. I am personally impacted by this event
3. I don’t know how to express what I am feeling (sorrow, loss, anger, love, joy…you know…the easy ones) so I sit at my piano. For hours. Until the right sound is coming from my hands.
4. I begin to piece together the appropriate verbiage
5. I decide that the music isn’t specific enough, and begin to tear apart and rewrite everything I created in step 3 until each note has a meaning and a function in relation to the story or message. The music must say more than the words. I write this down on my giant manuscript paper.
6. I write and rewrite the lyrics. I throw them out and start again.
7. I edit the music and the lyrics until I feel that they accurately portray what I am feeling. This usually takes months.
8. The process never ends. It is personal. And the first time I play this song I have been working on privately in public, I sometimes forget to breathe.

This is not a random practice!!! I do not sit around and think “gee…that Ebola crisis is a hot topic. Maybe I’ll write a song about that today. Let’s throw some notes down and make up some words and call it a song”. That is just not how it works!! I am in no way trying to capitalize off of innocent bystanders for the betterment of myself. Remember, I’m just as much as involved in these situations! These are my feelings, my reactions, and my thoughts alone…something moved me enough to make me go to the piano and start creating. A quick analysis of the time-invested/income-gained continuum would show an inverse relationship. So capitalization and self betterment is out of the question. So why do I write? I write because I have to get it out.
I write because people say “Your song helped me.” “I’ve been there too.”

I encourage you to be open minded and kind when you are listening to my (or anyone else’s) work. These songs came from somewhere private and special within the writer. I will never apologize for my music, because it is the truth. It is my truth of a specific moment in time. And remember, if you’ve made an appearance in one of my songs, it is because I have truly loved and cared about you. You gave me something that forever changed me. And for that, we should both be grateful.

Getting ready for a show is always a process, especially when that show happens to be you’re very first in New York City. The travel, the packing, the music, the equipment, the excitement…you get the idea. Being from Western New York, November means cold and snow. This year, lots of snow. So the Nordic-tundra-puffy snowman look- I’ve got down. However, successfully achieving the chic city look without freezing my fingers off or sweating like a hippo, I have yet to master. This is a work in progress. My father insists on bringing hats with him everywhere he goes, and advised me to pack a little black hat just in case it was windy, just enough to keep warm. I insisted it was never windy in the city – the buildings block all of the wind! I had been to the city in November before and never remembered any wind as I looked at the Rockefeller Christmas tree- which is always hidden in scaffolding when I am visiting. He disagreed. I made sure to pack my bag Thursday night- I would have plenty of time on Friday to change my mind, unpack, and then repack for my departure early Saturday morning. Which is exactly what happened…twice. Two last minute additions included my black windscreen for the microphone (which I like to call a nose), and a matching black hat. Since this was a big show (my very first ever in the city), the nucleus was attending- mom, dad, and James. We arrived in the city early Saturday morning, checked in, and decided to bop around for a bit until heading over for the sound check. As we walked through the streets and arrived at the famous scaffolded masterpiece, despite my objections it was….windy. I put my hat on. I could practically hear my dad smile behind me even though he was several paces back. The afternoon progressed quickly, enjoying the sights and taking in the charm that makes New York so special. We headed back to relax and get ready…and the butterflies began their attack. What if nobody came? What if the piano was in bad shape? What if this place was a front for organ harvesting? What if…you name it, I thought it. I’m not one to get nervous before a show, but with all of these unknowns, I couldn’t ignore the tinge of worry knocking occasionally at my confidence’s front door. I grabbed my set list, windscreen, and my hat and headed out. We waited for a cab, we waited at the red lights, we waited for the people to cross the street when they weren’t supposed to, wait wait wait wait- wait. Then we pulled up, and the place was…ADORABLE! The piano was in great shape, and these people did not strike me as kidney sharks. I started playing, and as soon as I started, the butterflies packed up and left for the night – realizing they had lost the battle once again. Then the most miraculous thing happened. People came! Let’s be clear- in no way did I sell out the Met, but there were people there. They stayed, they drank, and most importantly, they listened. They listened! After the show, they stayed to chat about the music…they had opinions…it was fantastic. The conversations flowed as freely as our celebratory libations…for hours. The nucleus was inebriated, and it was time to head back. I grabbed my hat, and we hailed a cab. Little did we know our adventure was coming to its peak as we climbed into the little yellow taxi. It all started with the seatbelt light. The sensor was pitching a fit, beep beep beep…”shut up you b***h” our driver commanded in an almost jolly voice …the car exploded with laughter. As we drove through the more lucrative parts of town -“10 million dollar apartment…for that much you can buy North Dakota and Idaho…buy one get one free you b***h”. As he pontificated on world domination- “I’d vote for Bush and Mr. Dick again on one condition… they take over Canada”. When cars would get in the way – “move you b***h”. As people walked in front of the car “move you b***h”. As he honked the horn at my dad’s command “yes boss, move you b***h”. The whole way- for 46 blocks “yes boss, move you b***h”. We paid our spirited driver and headed in for the night. Tired, sauced, dehydrated and hysterically laughing- until the lights went out.
It wasn’t until I was on the plane headed back home the next morning that I truly absorbed this experience. That night, I did not play to a sold out house at Madison Square Garden, I did not sell ten thousand albums, I didn’t make a million dollars…but I felt on top of the world. I felt rejuvenated and renewed. I was enthralled with the opinions and thoughts of my listeners. I was overwhelmed by the support of my tiny nucleus, the three people in this world who support me more than anyone deserves. I was grateful for the friends who took time to come to this show and grateful for the new friends and fans I made that night. It became so clear in this experience- that this journey is not about the money or the fame or the whatever else. It is simply about music and people, nothing else. When I got home, I unpacked my bag, and realized I had left my little black windscreen in New York. Despite the sadness of leaving my nose in the city, a part of me is really glad it’s there. The city gave me so much that night…so many wonderful memories and lessons I will have for the rest of my life. The least I could do is to give it a tiny black hat, just enough to protect from the cold New York wind until I return.