Riverfront Recording and Pat Lassiter Productions

We have been building our production client base for about six years.  While Pat’s been on the road with Tracy Lawrence, we could never really focus full on with the production company.  Now that Pat has departed the Tracy Lawrence band, our entire focus is on our production company and building it into an empire.

In addition, we will be riding our motorcycles much more.  : )

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Michael Jackson

I’m watching a documentary on BET about beautiful Michael Jackson. There were so many people in his inner world. Why, then, was he left to suffer from his own psychosis and from the trauma of being accused of hurting children? Maybe people and family did try to intervene? He seemed like such a gentle and sensitive soul.

It can be a challenge to be gentle and sensitive in this modern-day world.

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Non-Conformity

While cruising Amazon dot com I came across The Art of Non-Conformity authored by Chris Guillebeau.

For me to get into a book, I need to believe the author is owning the experience and knowledge from which they speak.

The rehashing, the reciting, the regurgitating of words into a manuscript by a so-called author is quite rampant these days. So, when I come across an author that can hit me in the gut and heart with truth and experience, I am sold.

There is an art to Non-Conformity. The art is realizing that this is your one life to live. The art is awareness and open-mindedness. The art is in independent thinking and living life on your very own terms; and many of us think we do live and think as such, but most of us do not.  Would the world be a happier place if we truly did live life on our own terms in a way that does contribute to a harmonious existence here on earth?

Celebrate non-conformity.  Check out:  http://chrisguillebeau.com/

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Lost. Found.

2013 marks the year I felt completely lost and utterly isolated.

Have you ever felt just lost?

It’s been a long time now since I moved to Nashville.  Quite honestly, I’ve never felt at home here. Never got used to living in Tennessee.  But this is where I met my Patrick.  Just when I had one foot out of this state ready to hit the road to anywhere but Nashville.  Along comes Patrick who just stopped me in my tracks.  Love was the last thing on my mind then.

My love, Patrick, is a wonderful and kind husband.  An amazing husband.  Extraordinary.  The kind of man where you would envy the girl who called him husband.  And he’s mine.  I’m blessed beyond measure.  Love is all there is.  Love is ALL.

But what about the love of family and friends back home in another land?  What about the love of your roots and hometown?  What about that deep affinity and connection to a place.  That place that makes you feel alive no matter if it was the most challenging struggle of your life.  It’s where your family for generations stepped foot off a ship, born, bred and made the soil and streets part of your heritage.

I’ve experienced some things in the motorcycle industry that were very disheartening and surely was the mark that a new culture and industry had arrived that had nothing to do with the brotherhood and sisterhood and the love of the road.  It had everything to do with out doing, climbing over and crushing people to get ahead.

Ahead of what?

All of these things I found really sad.  I did so love working in the motorcycle culture but it’s changed incredibly so and I’ve made up my mind to only bond with those who just simply love riding and those who truly love the road life and expanding their road families and giving and sharing this extraordinary love for two wheels and the open road.

I’m making it a goal this year to find me again.  To get back to me and move onward into adventure and purpose again.  To reconnect with the deep spiritual seeds that are planted, but waiting for water and nourishment from rolling in the wind.

There are many things that have contributed to me feeling so disconnected and disengaged from the core of who I am.  A lot has to do with this isolation living here in the south and not jiving with the culture.  I’m a New Yorker and I adore my heritage as such.  I don’t like being made to feel guilty because of my northern accent.

Also what about the love of the road and my motorcycle, Tigerlily, who’s my life blood and reason for breathing and singing and living.. she is dormant.  She sits as I sit.  Still.  When I get on her, we want to roll far away from here like a pair of wild gypsies and live off the land like ol’ days.  It’s not that we want to roll far away from LOVE and Patrick, just far away from HERE.  This place in time.   Why don’t I take to the open road like the ol days living in New York?  Well, I’m married now with a household to tend to and also must tend to my husband’s studio operations to help keep the business growing.   Plus, there’s tending to my beloved puppy son, Floody and kitty daughter, GypZ.  Maybe there’s a way to get Floody on the road with me?? GypZ hates to leave her palace.  Floody’s gamed for anything.

I keep a photograph of myself riding Tigerlily out there in the Badlands hanging in the hallway so that I see it everyday.  Well, at my Christmas party here in Nashville, several folks commented on it, totally stunned that the photograph was me and there I was wild, free, my long long hair all tattered and tangled and my grin was deep and not tied to anything except the moment.   I was still living in New York then.  I was wearing crazy glitter pants and a white tank top with no bra.

The person standing before them telling them about the photo spoke with a longing to be her in that photograph.  She was wearing glasses, her hair was hanging as sad and dull as her face.  She was wearing baggy, dumpy clothes.  She had on no makeup.  She was tired and withdrawn and cooking and cleaning and serving at the party.  She chose to do all the work because then she could hide and not have to talk too much to the guests who she really didn’t know.  She gazed longingly at that photo as she explained about the person with the wild eyes and crazy grin staring back at everyone.   As she wrapped up her story to the folks gathered ’round, she straightened the frame out and said, “Yeah, I so miss her.”

Folks.  That person was me talking about me.

So lost.  I must be found.

This month marked the first time my heath became unsteady and mysterious.  This week I’m going for a battery of tests to determine WTF is going on.  Maybe it’s simply a starving soul manifesting physically?  I can proudly say that I’m rarely ever sick and I’m strong and healthy.  But these last couple of months something isn’t right at all.  The loss of living strong is scary.  These are things that make me have a desire to live deeply and passionately again.  To chase the unconventional and be that crazy, adventurous and spirited New York artist girl riding her Harley.

 

 

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Bonfire Heart

This video and this song. This is gorgeous truth. This is how I feel about motorcycle riding. It’s so filled with love and passion for the open road and the people you meet and the stories that unfold and what goes on in your mind when you’re rolling out there. Oh! My lovely asphalt ribbon how me and my soulbike miss your winding and curving and straight away.

Most of all I miss hangin’ with the road angels and hearing the higher spirit moving through my heart and soul in such stillness and abandon.

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Taking another route.

I’ve decided as I mentioned in my previous post Ride or Die, to take an exit off this road in the motorcycle business and take another FREEway, a different path.

I loved my life in the motorcycle culture, however things have changed. It’s kind of like when you live in a gritty, cool, raw and real neighborhood and then hipsters move in, buying the image and then changing it into something slick and manufactured. Not everyone is like that, of course. There are the authentic, genuine bikers that remain. But when you actually work in the business you end up not being engaged in the fun part, the riding, the relationships with true people.

I’ve had my good times working at The Broken Spoke and Lone Star Rally. Those years were great. I have fun memories and I just want to keep the good memories.

Now my life is just about riding and being. It’s not about the real public look at me stuff. I don’t like to be so out there like that. I do want to share art, however. Random bits of really awesome art that I create.

I don’t know where this road is going to lead me. It’s been kind of confusing. I miss NYC so much that I dream about her often. Like almost every night. Definitely a fish out of water in Nashville. Though if I have to live here, I live in a very cool, bohemian, God inspired home and on the river. I’ve got an awesome hubby and pets. He is very busy with his music. He is an artist and is constantly in his own world creating music and producing music. Because of this he doesn’t ride his motorcycle as much because his career has taken off and he’s had to really invest a great deal of time and resources into his art.

Being a fish out of water, though, I find it very difficult to connect with people here in Nashville. So, for the past seven years or so, I’ve mostly kept to myself. In Manhattan I was so out and about and intensely social and engaged with life daily. It was beautiful and alive and very intense and unpredictable. I miss that very much.

Being from NYC is like being from a different world entirely. So here I am in Nashville. Wait. What?

So, I don’t know where this new route will lead. But I want to be really open and listen to inner direction, soulful direction. Just be still and kinda get that KNOWing feeling.

For now, it’s me and my dog and cat — the trio. We spend mad hours together. They are my besties these days. Never thought that road I was on would lead to where I am today. Always thought I would be on the road, always. I wrote the song “The Road is My Home” because I loved to roam. But NYC would always be the root and the return. That little apartment on the Upper West Side that I miss so bad my stomach turns. How could I miss that tiny little place? It was sooo small and limited. But was it reallY? Maybe it was the minimal living that let me live large, out there on the open road?

I don’t know.

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RiDE OR DiE — the story behind the song.

“The Cross will not crush you; if its weight makes you stagger, its power will also sustain you.” -St. Pio

Roll with the flow
Ride with a higher vibe
Seize every moment as an opportunity to
truly feel alive.  - RiDE or DiE.

I find a spirit in the wind when I ride my motorcycle that is so overwhelming it brings tears to my eyes.   That’s what I love most about riding.  It’s where I connect with a divine love and universal energy that is so pure, so true, so loving that it’s hard to get off of my bike.  These moments are treasures beyond measure.  It’s like there is an umbilical cord from my heart to the stars.

I wrote RiDE or DiE because I felt like my soul was dying inside…

Feeling the crushing weight of the lies and deception everywhere in this world and especially while working in the motorcycle industry, which has turned into this crazy corporate, competitive, selfish and egotistical atmosphere, I withdrew.  I emptied my heart and began to examine the incredible drain this darkness was having on my life.

What happen to the amazing days of the motorcycle culture when it really was about the love of the ride?  The love of the motorcycle? The love of the rider soul?  The love of pure adventure and wanderlust?  I have met the most amazing people while riding my motorcycle.  Gems!  But that has become few and far between now.  I mean, journeying to Sturgis, South Dakota is not so much for the rally party, as it is to bond with Bear Butte, the spiritual vortex, and the incredible loving road angels that I’ve met riding over the years.  Celebrating spirit in the wind.  spirit of the universe.  spirit of mother earth.  These days at rally I feel like I did as a geeky kid with thick glasses, totally uncool clothes and hair cut as people interact with me like I’m a third wheel.  I don’t fit in.

Ever since Indian Larry, Samantha Morgan and Mark “Papa” Guardado and a few others passed away the entire atmosphere began to shift even more for me.  Each of these deaths were unexpected and frightening.  Like they were violently plucked off the earth.

I met Larry back in the late 90s while I was dating a dude from Queens.  It was at an event off Steinway in Queens, I think it was.  He was always so kind and interesting, an extreme artist on so many levels.  Larry was his own person.  His own artist.  His wife Bambi, also quite extreme and unique and very fun.

Samantha I met through my windsister Goth Girl who told me “I met this awesome chick who rides the Wall of Death.  She’s amazing.  You gotta meet her.”  That was ten years ago.  Immediately we connected and I would hang out at Sam’s trailer at events.  We would talk about our truth and passion for riding and that no one could take that away from us.  She owned it.  She owned that wall.  She owned her art.  She was true. When she passed away, a month after my father who was the light of my life died of Leukemia, I felt my world just crumble.

Papa. We shared a special friendship that had to do with everything art and motorcycles.  He passed away that same year in August.  Horrific incident and I just shut down for awhile after this news.  I had met this ROCK of SOUL at my ol’ stomping grounds The downtown Broken Spoke Saloon (which is not there anymore) in Sturgis.  Goth Girl introduced me to him.  We became instant soul friends.  Almost every year since we met, we’d share a dance at Sturgis usually on a Wednesday night I think it was.  The time in between rallies we’d spend on the phone or he’d come to NYC to be with his family and we’d meet up and talk for hours.  Our conversations mostly had to do with riding, art, music and the mystery of life…how things made better sense in the wind.  He would also talk extensively about the love he had for his children.

They owned their lives that completely revolved around riding and they lived it.  They were kind and accepted you as you are.

Sitting here stagnant
Tired of all those aching lies
Falling from the mouths of the so called “Rock Solids”
who’d rather rob you blind
Yeah, they steal your dreams
All the while chatty and smiling
“Shut up, You Ain’t Got My Back…do you know what it even means?” – lyrics to RiDE or DiE

There have been many times over the last year and half when I wanted to tell folks simply   “Shut Up, You Ain’t Got My Back” especially while they were all pretend and chatty with me.  Yeah, some were the so called icons in the industry who would almost stomp over you to gain status, glory and leadership.  They certainly will use you that’s for sure and for someone as naive like me, forget it.  Gullible girl right here.

Another RiDE or DiE element there have been females who work in the industry that purposefully did everything they possibly could over the years to keep me out of events, having a book signing, participating on panels, you name it.  To them I guess I was this obscure chick from New York City.  After awhile, I just quit trying to get into anything having to do with women and motorcycles.  You see, once these dark creatures sabotaged my reputation as that of “not being a good representative of female riders” for reasons that ranged from: the way I dressed, to the way I wrote and my philosophies on riding, to the people I hung around…yep.

One girl went so far as to call the TV network to tell them that I really didn’t ride a motorcycle to which the producer responded, but I have several days worth of her riding her motorcycle all over the place!  Or when I was considered entry level by some because I only rode a Sportster.  Obviously, that certainly wouldn’t fly these days.  How about the fact that’s the bike I could afford? And it’s still the bike I ride and she’s incredible, my soul machine.  I’m supposed to experience some kind of bike shame because of these leader chicks?

Another told me that because Sonny Barger so kindly quoted a cool quote for the cover of my first book Bikerlady and because I was friends with some of the boys, that that was why a certain well known [figure it out] didn’t want to support my book.  What?!  Yeah, since Sons Of Anarchy became a hit show, well, I surmise that these things wouldn’t be an issue these days.

I shed alot of tears being left out of these events for women and motorcycles that meant so much to me.  I love encouraging other women to ride, I love promoting all the wonderful and positive aspects of what riding a motorcycle does for your body, mind and soul.  As far as my dress, oh, please.  The troubling thing was that I was receiving so much fan mail from my books, my public appearances and the letters were amazing.  People writing how my words helped them so much in life.  How my positive outlook and riding metaphors gave them courage and inspiration.  It pissed me off something fierce that no matter how many fan letters I shared with the powers in the industry, I was ignored.

So I moved on from the fun goals that I had to help create a strong motorvational presentation and entertainment for women in motorcycles all over the world.  I abandoned the struggle and humiliation from trying so hard, up against a stronghold of women who would do anything to keep me out.  So I refused to engage in that battle.  There are other important causes to fight for.   I refused to waste precious time and energy anymore on this stupid struggle to be a part of the whole women and motorcycling platform.   I struggled a long time because I’m horribly naive so it takes me awhile to get it sometimes.

It sucks having dreams crushed by the “so called” Rock Solids who think they know everything and have all the answers whether they be heartless females, an inept government, crazy politicians, wickedly cruel mortgage industry, selfish corporate leaders, egomaniac greedy motorcycle pretend celebs, the people that pretend to be your friends so they can use you as a resource for their pursuits, the liars, the cheats…shall I go on?…NO you know what I’m talking about here. They will be all chatty and smiling with you while they freakin’ cut your heart out from a stab in the back.  There are many disheartening things happening in the world so those few situations that elevate the soul and lift the heart mean everything.   Riding a motorcycle totally elevates and lifts you.

Not the type to waste my time
with a look at me life online
so off I go escaping all I know to
grab facetime with the wind . . .

I can’t imagine my life being without a motorcycle.  The love of a two wheeled freedom machine has had a grip on me since I was a child on a bicycle that was way too big for me.  It was a used beach cruisier Schwinn, Poppi, my daddy, bought at a garage sale.  For me it was my magical means for escaping life as I knew it.

It’s a long road to innocence (rebel) - a true rebel portrays an innocence protecting all that is good and true and love. Engaging in the wonder.  Seeking knowledge.  So, to renew and engage this innocence is a constant long road.
Hardships are apprenticeships
Miles bring on mystery (miles bring on and magnify the divine mysteries of life)
Truth is where I wanna be
I’m leaving the hell behind…

Riding my motorcycle sustains me because it’s where divine love is most present to me.  It is my heaven.  My heaven, along with my loving husband, Patrick, my beautiful pets, my music, and my true friends and family, and my true windsisters especially the Magnificent 6 and some others that I adore.

I love to compose music about my love for riding… my most favorite art expression.  The swiriing sometimes chaotic guitars of this song represent the wind and the emotions that brew up when you face truth or clear out the cobwebs in your mind.  The strong bass line represents my husband, my rock, my journey.  The Bonham like drums simple yet powerful  like how my motorcycle just chugs on and encourages me to do the same; and the wide open hi-hat sloshing represents how my bike and me rolls on through any kind of weather.

I ride for my life. Head out on the highway find me a higher way.

RiDE or DiE is a free download.  It’s my healing song.  It’s my soul restoration.  It’s messy and I share it with you.  Maybe you have experienced a RiDE or DiE situation in your life and this can be your power riding spirit song, too.

with love.

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Real Reels of Music

I’m sitting on the floor combing through and organizing the sheet music and reels of legendary producer Al De Lory.  Here is an image of the master tapes.  I am super honored to be in the presence of his work.  In my music studio is his chair that he used to sit in, to listen to music.  Al was a dear friend of mine.  God rest and bless his soul.  There is something extremely spiritual about handling these musical works.  It must be the presence of a musical genius.  I hope some of his talent and musical intuition rubs off on this alt, indie, music soul of mine.aldeloryreels

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