We encourage you to find more of  Teisha’s writing at the blog http://betterthansleepingalone.typepad.com/my_weblog/

Written on her Iphone 9/9/10, 10:32 a.m.

Sitting in the exam room on the 16th floor of the center for health and healing where I modeled once while it was still under construction.

I just walked in to a bright smile and happy face of a woman who exclaimed, “we were just talking about you.”

“I’m still here,” I offered with a solid smile of my own.

She is unrecognizable to me.  Chemo brain lives on and makes me think it might be a good thing to take photos of people and places and things.

Yes, I was late to my appointment but where is my dematologist?  In the past he struck me as rather touchy, geeky, constantly stroking my skin while talking to me.  My skin is itchy and I wonder what I weigh today.  I am bored on the examining room table and my phone doesn’t work in here drat!  Oooh, spotted A magazine!

The doctor came in and felt my skin and told me that I was “supple” and made my day!  He said to not be shy about using the steroid cream and that he was not sure what would happen with my hands.  They are flaky and itchy and red and look so old an wrinkly.   He said to call him in a few weeks.

I weigh 145 lbs today…”don’t worry about losing,  and don’t worry about gaining,” the nurse said, “you have a little thing about it.” She’s right.  Those 50 lb weight changes have torqued my body image and my brain can’t keep up with it.

“Do you suppose your blood type will change again?” she wonders out loud.  “I don’t know” I say.  Because I don’t.  It seems to all be happening so fast.  They found a donor with the same missing chromosome as the last donor.  She is twenty-two.  That’s all I know.

it’s time to leave the clinic and the sky is crystal blue and the sun is sinking down along the west hills, stunning.  If it were this beautiful all the time it would be a very different place to live.  Bring it on…fall, winter, spring oh my!

Teisha’s family band with her uncles Jon and David performed under the band named Say Uncle for several years before Teisha helped form Amelia Band.  Jon and Dave found a track recorded on a single track for a radio simulcast of their last live show at The Blue Heron Music Festival.  The song was in the early development stages when the band decided to “throw it out there to see if it would stick” and it did.  It would have been a track on a follow up album that Say Uncle had hopes to someday make. Teisha wrote the lyric and music with help from the guys to arrange and additional music.  Band mates include Glenn Matz, Jeff Simonson, and Matt Zekala.  She sings with a sexy bluesy tone.

  
    Lyrics, music and vocals by Teisha Helgerson
   Additional music by members of Say Uncle
  Jon Helgerson and David Helgerson

Shake It Off

My world slips I can’t believe my love for you
When you wake me
I feel this tender aching tug
And can’t shake it off, can’t shake it off

You take me to places almost lost
And I’m opened up,
it hurts me but I can’t get it enough
I can’t shake it off, I can’t shake it off

You steal my every waking thought
And I’m opened up
It hurts me but I can’t get enough
And I can’t shake it off
I can’t shake you off

No one’s ever seen forever
So how do they know
No one ever said they’d never leave me alone
You’re a preoccupation that I’ve never ever known

The State That You’re In
Lyrics by Teisha Helgerson
Music and arrangement by Susannah Weaver

The light of the hallway
when the curtain is closed
The stack by the back door is over exposed.
Wake from you deep sleep and
cry if you must,
pray for the opinion
you think you can trust.

Suppose you’re the winner with wounds on the mend
Suppose you are loaded with money to spend
Suppose you are wiser than you’ve ever been
Suppose it is perfect, the state that you’re in

You’re in, you’re in, you’re in

Wake from the damp sleep
and cry if you must
wait for the opinion
you hope you can trust.
Jump from the little plane
all the way down
survive without parachutes
making a sound.

Suppose you’re the winner with wounds on the mend
Suppose you are loaded with countless good friends
Suppose you are older than ever you’ve been
Suppose it is perfect, the state that you’re in

You’re in, you’re in, you’re in

  Creative notes from Susannah Weaver:   ”It was so much fun to work on and record. I started work on it very soon after getting it, and had the melody and structure down I think in one long sitting. It did come very naturally!

Though the chorus melody underwent some change through the process. I used the chord sequences in different ways throughout the song: as the structure for the verses and the chorus (with the changes taking longer in the choruses) and that little FGC in the bottom right was used as a tag in different places throughout the song. Because I made three distinct sections in the song (verse, pre-chorus, chorus, I guess we can call them) I chose to leave out what I think was intended lyrically as a bridge. I really wanted my version to be fun and light, but reverent.

I started work on the song on the guitar and was able to record it with my iPad and add in parts, which really helped me fully realize where I wanted to go with this.  Teisha had the chords starting the chorus going from Major to Minor, and I decided to switch the order to make it sound more uplifting ( as a songwriter, I am a serious offender of the overuse of the Major to Minor, it’s my crutch, and I was chagrined to find that Teisha liked it too!) I couldn’t get the melody of the chorus to where I was happy with it, until I wrote a fun bass line, which made me then want to break the lyrics of the chorus up into a call-and-response with handclaps (because everything is more fun with handclaps!) and distinct backing vocal parts.

There is this one little bit of the bass line that had me laughing so hard…it’s reminiscent of a number of songs from the 70′s, among them Silly Love Songs by Paul McCartney and Wings, Ride Captain Ride by some 70′s rock band, and, most hilariously, the theme song to Sanford and Son. It’s just this tiny little thing that no one would notice, but it had me and Steve in stitches during recording, which I knew T would appreciate!

Recording was easy and fun at Jenny and Steve’s. After getting the drums and bass down in the basement, we went upstairs where we recorded the guitar,vocals, handclaps, accordion and piano near the lovely heat of the woodstove. Knowing of Teisha’s love of France, I asked Jenny to go for a “French” sound with the accordion, though I think the “French” sound is just built-in with that instrument. She played her beautiful grand piano in their living room with the top propped up and the mic tucked inside. With modern technology we were able to send the tracks to Scott Weddle, who added on some sweet harmonies and cool “Weddlesque” guitar parts. I love hearing his voice in there.

When I first got the song and started working on it I didn’t really understand the lyrics, and I can’t say that I do now but about a week before recording it I read the blog of a friend’s wife who had died of cancer not quite three years ago. In her blog she describes the kind of sleep that I think Teisha means to describe in this song, as well as the waking from this sleep. Reading that blog was a real eye-opener for me, and especially helpful for me connecting with the lyrics. “Pray for the opinion you think you can trust”, all the doctors and diagnoses, the “good” news, the bad news.

I also have read Teisha’s blog and the story of her friend who jumped from the little plane** and love knowing what that line means literally, “without parachutes making a sound”, which also helps me understand its meaning figuratively. Brilliant. I changed a few words in the choruses: the word “countless” just doesn’t sound the same coming out of my hick mouth as it would in Teisha’s more cultured, dulcet tones, and I got a little ham-fisted with the double-meaning of the word “loaded”, partly because I knew that that was one aspect of life that Teisha missed, the drinking with friends, and partly because I am ham-fisted. Again, I thank you for this experience. As I thank Teisha.”  Susanna Weaver

**See Teisha’s blog:  www.betterthansleepingalong.com.  Posted September 1, 2010 and titled:  I Could Get Hit By a Bus Tomorrow – 2007.

“The Greatest Valentine”

Main lyrics and medody by Teisha Helgerson

Additional lyrics by Aaron Walker

I turn my head to
start to see you
ever racing
down the line

Understatement
in the basement
spend the days in
waggly vines

Cinderella
dressed in yella’
kissed your face and
said a line

In-between the
coal and queen the
melody that
you will find

Du du du du
du du du du
du du du du
du du du

Merci, thank you
hope I’ll meet you
once again my
valentine

Calling to me
what goes through me
little breeze and
candle light

‘Till it’s over
four leaf clover
so I sing my
lullaby

See the focus
on the hostess
of the greatest
valentine

Du du du du
du du du du
du du du du
du du du

Our fith song is produced by Aaron Walker (www.aaronwalker.com).  As well as Teisha, Aaron grew up in Lake Oswego Oregon.   While still in their teens, Teisha and Aaron were members of the music group “Popsicle.” The two wrote and recorded together and performed on a popular local television show.  “I have always been so proud of and inspired by Teisha, so I am honored to part of this project.” says Walker.  Aaron Walker now resides in Japan, where he works as Music Television Producer.  He can be reached at:  aaron@aaronwalker.com.  The vocalist is Ms. Tulie,  a Japanese Jazz and pop singer based in Osaka. 

Purge

Read

Write

Arithmetic

Sleep

Weep

Start a Fire

Song number four is ready for the August concert. Rachel Taylor Brown (www.racheltaylorbrown.com) worked with these lyrics and added the chorus from Teisha’s blog post Drum Story posted on 12/30/11.

An update that Teisha wrote to family and friends on Friday 9/28/07

“When it is dark enough, you can see the stars”

Persian Proverb

I like that.

I’ve been putting off writing an update and I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe because it hasn’t been all sunshine and roses.then again, there hasn’t been a day without laughter either.  Shit happens. And in this case, at the risk of being entirely too graphic- I mean that last sentence literally.

Right about mid-August I developed another case of Graft Vs. Host Disease, this time in my GI tract which I don’t have to tell you is the part of your body that digests food. The main symptom (and who needs more than this one) was a fairly severe case of diarrhea. It lasted a long time. Weeks. Is this too much information? Forgive me in the name of the truth. Lots of pain medication. Lots of time very close to the bathroom. If mine were big enough, I would have slept in it.

Kruger Farm Show

Still, Amelia had a show on Sauvie Island on a hot August night and there were so many wonderfully familiar faces, friends and family and a gazillion little kids (no kidding) and it was like a dream. It made me cry with happiness to be on that stage singing, it was the highlight of my year and it made me feel as if I do have a purpose, it was sublime.

In recent weeks, we’ve spent a good amount of time at the clinic at OHSU. We’re always impressed with the people there. Last Sunday, we were there and I was having a hard time with a mean bloody nose. I passed out in the bathroom. I fainted again coming out into the hall. Mom caught me and says we did a very graceful dance to the floor. What ensued was a nice three days back on 5C where I got my transplant. I actually enjoyed seeing my nurses again. They drew flowers on my water bottle and took really good care of me. I came home Wednesday on a special diet meant to help (and it is) with the GVHD in the gut stuff. This is it is- canned fruit, cooked vegetables, starches, soup, bread, cereal. Not bad, and it seems to be working. Can I get an Amen?

When we’re “on the hill” there’s a routine. We read the paper and Mom has been working the same Sudoku book for, like, six months. She says it just relaxes her mind. I say great! It is the same everytime – I’m weighed, my blood pressure and temperature are taken, blood is drawn (sounds worse than it is.) we wait for lab results, we see Dr. Meyers, maybe get some sort of blood support (potassium, platelets, etc.) go home. Mom gets a mocha. Shelly gets a soda. Sometimes we’re loud laughing at ourselves. The other day, while I was getting blood drawn- Mom and Shelly did the wave. Yeah, the WAVE.

Sometimes it does feel dark- a long process, a million little pills to take several times a day, a hazy steroid-induced fog of a place I’ll be happy to have behind me…but then, I try to remember that thing about “be here now” and I try to remember that happiness is not guaranteed but won over one small gratitude at a time. And sometimes this thought just kind of pisses me off, but not usually. A skim of the newspaper, 15 minutes of news, an episode of The War and there-in is some perspective.

Still, “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.”

I love you and wish you well…

Sincerely,

Teisha June

Carry On
Lyrics by Teisha Helgerson
Arrangement and music by James Lowe

Yes she weeps,
I say no wonder,
Because its so beautiful
What she has done here.

The clock keeps ticking
Its’ tales of sorrow.
We’ll all just go to sleep
Until the sun brings tomorrow
And carry on.

Carry everything I will and won’t become.
Carry on.

You loose all direction,
Shouting down the hall,
I’ll be your reflection
Til you find your good footing.

When we said goodbye
I made a promise to myself.
I’d live a little better.
I’ll try a little harder.
I’d be a little stronger.

Carry everything I will and won’t become.
Carry on.

James Lowe’s version is a wonderful and insightful adaptation of the orginal script by Teisha.  “She had alot to say and I had alot to say to her.”

Teisha’s script with penciled notes to “Write like you talk / think”
Cm

Carry On

The words get tangled
When they’re blundered (thundered).
Yes she weeps
I say no wonder
it will turn, but not asunder they say

She said “If it hadn’t been so tragic
It’d have been hilarious”
and tells her story
in a most telling sort of way.

Marry all my imperfections,
dancing’s always dangerous,
marry everything I will and won’t become.

Carry on in lost reflection,
there’s soft shouting down the hall,
carry on carry on un-tiresome.

The clock is telling tales of sorrow.
We should all be sound asleep
but the winner woke us
coming through the door.

How many days until she molds you?
How many nights until he holds you?
Even now I only scold you
Nothing more.

Bury all my imperfections,
dancing’s always dangerous,
Bury everything I will and won’t become.