VISIT TINA'S BLOGSPOT PAGE

for up-to-the-minute updates on your favorite motherhood music!

And don't forget to check out MYSPACE!

VALENTINE'S DAY

Join Tina at Washington DC's own Lucky Bar to celebrate the work of the organization Fonkoze!

Tina's family sing-along show, February 14th @ 4:00 PM, Lucky Bar, 1221 Connecticut Avenue Northwest

Tickets $25, call: (202) 331-3733 -- Proceeds benefit Fonkoze

ONGOING EVENT

Weekends at the Carlyle

Saturdays from 10:00 AM to 2:30 PM

Visit Tina at the Carlyle in the world-famous Bemelmans Bar, where she performs jazz standards, new & old favorites, and children's songs at "Madeline's Tea." The Carlyle is on Madison Avenue between 76th and 77th in NYC. Reservations: 212.744.1600.

WHEN IS A COOKIE?

The idea for this came to me in November. By mid-December I'd written the song and assembled a crew, cast, and locations. I have rarely had more fun in my life. Beneath this off-the-wall story is a statement about joy, togetherness, and chocolate. Click on the screen or visit the YouTube page here — download the audio track here, and don't forget to read my blog about the making of the film!

My songs are about grown-up love. Between a mother and child, a daughter and mother, a woman and her spouse. About the things that happen when no one is looking. The joys in hidden places, the fears in plain sight. The movement, the twists and turns, stages expected and unexpected, milestones and millstones.

I experience, I observe, and I write.

I see femininity in motherhood and embrace it. I see tender, bawdy, vulnerable, stubborn, funny, pretty, smart, stupid. What I see is not a maid. Not a machine. Not a man.

A woman.

That’s what I see.

A moment becomes a story. A story takes wing, carried by its own musical style. A song emerges. What I see becomes what I hear.

What do I hear in motherhood? Motown and blues. Down-and-dirty New Orleans swamp rock and Southern Gospel. Guitar-based country folk and driving jazz. Music that is earthy, tender, raw, sophisticated, sensual, embracing.

That’s what I hear.

I feel deeply and try not to feel weepy.

I feel fearful and fearless, thankful and forgiving, fierce and wrathful.

I feel seduced by the estatic underflow of life.

I feel that joy is sometimes deepened by loss.

I feel that all of it, every moment, must be expressed.

That’s what I feel.