LAURA MEYER | CYGNE | FINAL PRESS

I made sachets to raise money for those affected by the Camp Hill and Woolsey fires. They are small drops in a very large bucket, but if you would like to contribute there are “swan love” lavender sachets available here. 100% of the money will go to California wildfire relief, divided evenly between Direct Relief and the California Community Foundation Wildfire Relief Fund. (Learn more here or donate directly via links.) Also, from now until the end of the year 50% of all web orders will be donated to help people recover from the fires. Last summer my mom and I drove to Carmel, which is a little south of Santa Cruz on the Monterey Peninsula. It was a cool foggy day, the only day we had together before she flew back to New York and I flew elsewhere. My mom wanted to harvest lavender. At first I struggled (as I often do) to pull my mind from the realm of fog and airplanes, but as we filled baskets the purple flowers released their calming magic and brought me down to earth. We bundled bouquets for friends and filled the trunk of my car with stems to dry while I was on tour. The drive to the airport was unusually mellow. The car still smells like a spa. Back in Santa Cruz I bought this “swan lake” fabric from Harts Fabric, a store on Seabright (the street that inspired the song), intending to make sachets. This weekend while thinking about the fires and feeling hopeless I finally opened the bin containing the dried flowers and my room was transformed into a summer lavender field. As I tied each one I reflected on all the love that California has given me, from childhood dreams to natural beauty to inspiration, acceptance, community, expansion, right down to the food I ate for dinner. I hope you feel the love I'm sending your way.

Now I live in winter, where a family of swans recently moved in across the street. How they keep their bellies warm in the cold water, I don't know, but I imagine love has something to do with it.

Happy Thanksgiving, 
Laura

Evolution is a process.

Although we can't always detect it, we are making progress.

We are moving forward. 

There are potholes. There are smooth patches. It's all one road.

We will get there.

We are here.And we're here to grow.

We are complete. We are unique.

We are equal. We belong.

Get out there. Happy Fall.

<3

It's easy to get stuck in a rut.

It's just as easy to bust out of it.

Dive in. Shake it up. Try something new. Break the rules. Venture a little farther. Know your limits. Transcend them.

Choose a different seat. Try a different perspective. There's no such thing as a detour.

Windex really does fix everything. 

Life isn't about winning or losing. It's about the people you're with. (And Stella Starfish.)

Televised world championships of cornhole exist. (You can't spell SAUSAGE without USA.)

Bright lights and screens were designed to take our money, so proceed with caution.

We don't need all this stuff.

However medieval-themed blacklight mini-golf - complete with an alternative hits of the 90s playlist - is a fantastic investment.

Sometimes pointlessness is the point.

After all, the world is round. 
Nature nurtures.

We are nature.

There are places where you don't have to worry about your bike getting stolen.

There's no right way to do anything.

If you think you can, think you can, think you can, you will make it up the hill. 

When you feel scared, scream.

If screaming seems inappropriate, there's probably no reason to be scared. 

However it's okay to sit some rides out. ;)

Nothing lasts forever.Yet the present moment is infinite.
Once a kid, always a kid. (This is the house where I was born.)

So there you have it. Souvenirs from summer vacation. Now I'm typing in my pajamas and a down coat listening to rain on the roof, settling into fall vacation... everything feels like vacation when I'm not touring. But then tour often feels like vacation... I guess life is a vacation. A working vacation, but a vacation no less. As long as we play in our work and work in our play.

I tweaked the site a bit... added a new photo:

My friend Kristijan took it on his roof in Zürich, the same apartment where the Let It Breathe cover photo was taken. We were excited about this one for the cover of the next album. The working title for the past year and a half has been One Woman. It will be stripped-down. Solo. More like how shows are. I'm pretty certain it will be a Laura Meyer release, though Cygne has a bunch of songs stockpiled, too. I'm documenting the process on patreon. It feels good to be slow. There's so much more time this way... 

Sending love <3

Laura / Cygne / One Woman

always & forever... <3 <3 <3 x infinity... 

So... much... rain. It's been a very wet summer here in the NE. Wet when it's raining, wet when it isn't raining (it's always raining). I ain't complaining - the plants are happy and it's still warm enough to get out and boogie. But the days are getting shorter so I need to establish a cold-weather plan NOW because I get SAD if I don't move (I get SAD when I do move, too, but not as BAD) and it's gonna be hard to boogie out there in the dark and ice. 

I was just looking up dance studios in my area which led to a search into the history of jazz which led to this video... almost enough to make me want to sign up for tap dancing lessons... but I doubt I'd find a playlist this good. And the playlist, we all know, is everything. <3

When was the last time you took a class? Signed up for something new? Something old? Something that'll feed your soul and make your inner child squeal with delight? I recently signed up for a pottery class!! So stoked. This is the first fall since forever I'm not touring so it was nearly as exciting to commit to a ten-week class as it will be to take the class... nearly. I fell in love with clay when I stayed at the Beatrice Wood Center back in 2011. One night I slept on the floor of her old library and awoke to voices of dinner parties past... ever since then I've heard her whispering from time to time, urging me to get my hands in some earth. Thank you, Beato. 

I just shared a previously unreleased recording & deep thoughts with fans on Patreon. Here's the link. :)

As I work on the next album... slowly... thoughtfully... feeling-fully... I want to share the process with my community.

Isn't everyone community? Yes and no. We are all One. Yet everyone isn't a fan.

In order to spill and slosh about as one does while slowly, thoughtfully, feeling-fully creating... I need a container. A safe space. A way to communicate with fans.

I've chosen Patreon.

Why? Over the past year and a half of quietly posting for a handful of supporters, we've established trust. Connection. Something that feels right, away from the prying eyes of the internet-at-large.

Now for as little as $1/month I'm inviting you to receive everything I create for as long as you want to participate. Over the course of a year that's less than the price of an album... and your contributions will enable me to continue creating and sharing this work. 

Please consider joining us.

Thank you. 

<3

July was an angry month. Maybe it was Mars retrograde or Sun in Cancer or Earth in freaking freakout mode but I felt like at any moment I might smash the TV, rip out its still-flickering electric heart, eat it, and turn into a crazy transformer, roaring ferociously as the the ground split open and swallowed every fragment of corruption, greed, and hatred in a flash of rainbow light.

Alas, I’m not a superhero and I don’t like hospitals, so I asked a mentor for advice instead. She said, “Anger is unprocessed grief.”

“Good grief,” I thought. “Really? Still? All I do is process. I'm tired of processing! When will it be over?!”

*sob*

Apparently life is a process. Living is processing... and there is much to process. Endless waves of joy and sorrow, e-motions that seek to move through us if we’d just let them move. 

I turned off the news and I cried. For the children. For the planet. For Nia Wilson. For the talking heads I want to smash and for all the bodies I cannot save. For so much that I love.

It’s easy to get sucked into anger, but anger doesn’t release us from the pain that's causing the anger. Our freedom is in grieving. Anger only appears powerful as it churns, a whirlpool inside us, its vortex threatening to pin us to the seafloor. When we surrender to the awesome current of grief we realize that the ocean wants to deliver us back to shore. That is the power of Love. The Whole Ocean. Crack open the heart and we surf back to solid ground like Venus on a half-shell.

It's good to be alive. 

As my friends, Chris & Louis, say, "Excellent and better all the time." 

I'm full of hope. 

Songs are coming. In the meantime here is an old performance... one I'm a little embarrassed to share, but then... it was for Hope. :)

With love,
Cygne

When I feel scared (especially when I’m alone at night, envisioning every terrible thing that could possibly occur before and beyond dawn) I remind myself that I’ve survived nights on bar floors in foreign countries, the haunted basement of a warehouse in downtown Albuquerque, vehicles from the Olympic Peninsula to the Blue Ridge Mountains, and hundreds of other seemingly terrifying “sleeping” arrangements, all to see the light of day.

I just came across this photo I half-jokingly (okay, 1% jokingly) texted to a friend one night in case I went missing. I don’t think people realize how fearful I am... I slept with a nightlight until I went away to college. (And then I was in NYC so it never got dark anyway.) But I’ve been able to live on the road for so long because I love it that much. I love you that much. More than I fear, which is a crazy amount, because love is stronger than fear. Love is real. Fear is not. Yes, fear appears to be real when we’re fixated on the shadows of things we don’t understand and/or cannot control. But when the light returns we see that love is everything.

With the news of the world in the palms of our hands we don’t need to use our imaginations to terrify ourselves. We need to use our imaginations to transcend this thick fear swaddling Earth so that we may continue to move freely and joyfully across every imaginary border, connecting and celebrating these lives we are so unbelievably blessed to experience. Thank you for holding up your light, and for sheltering me from so many storms. Sweet dreams.

I'm crushing so hard on Sandra Boynton right now. Do you know her? You know her. You've probably given or received at least one of her greeting cards:

I met her this morning and before I realized who she was I was already crushing because she was so incredibly kind and gracious. And then I Googled her... and I realized she's not only the creator of at least 75% of the staples from my nannying days, she's also at the heart of some of my earliest childhood memories. Early, formative, joyful memories of falling in love with words and pictures and silly hippos that made this strange planet seem more familiar, fun, and faceable. 

Her work is hilarious in the most brilliant way, a wit that highlights the joy of play for all ages, something that is extremely rare and direly needed now and always. Plus she loves chocolate enough to write a book about it. I'm in awe of her. Look at what this woman has created. 


After spending a good chunk of time laughing out loud on her website I ordered a bunch of greeting cards and I'm going to have a hard time parting with them... but they'll be the next batch of mail that goes out to my patreon peeps. :D

Have a great week! New tunes soon!