leonard pitts jr. wrote an opinion column, a gorgeous essay on the moon that we read the other morning. only it wasn’t really about the moon. he references a short film (which we watched) by filmmakers wylie overstreet and alex gorosh called “a new view of the moon” where the two men “wandered around los angeles with a telescope…asking a cross section of passersby in a cross section of places…to put their eyes to the viewfinder and gaze upon what they’ve looked at a million times yet never seen.” the two men found that people responded in the same way, awestruck, profoundly moved by the vision. the short doesn’t feature the moon; it features the reactions of people as they gaze into the telescope. leonard calls it “a hymn to our common humanity.” a reminder that in all our differences we are the same…”we spend too much time looking down and across.” we are, yes, tiny in the vastness – something i felt myself in writing about david’s painting FROM A DISTANCE that we chose for thursday’s melange. “so each other is all we have. but then, it should be all we need,” leonard writes.
when i drew this simple graphic, i wanted to portray a uncomplicated thought. an image unadorned with fancy-ness, but, hopefully, clear…or, at the very least, thought-provoking. “your” earth with arrows upward, “your” earth with arrows that circle around, “our” earth with arrows that circle around, “earth” with arrows that circle around.
it is all a circle. what we do counts. how we help counts. how we help our earth. how we help each other.
what’s that saying?…’one man’s trash is another man’s treasure’? a walk through our house shows we drew this chicken nugget from our own lives. i’ve written before, ok many times before, about the stones in our home, the sticks and feathers, the old doors and windows, re-purposed old aluminum coffee pots as canisters, old stoves still working, my dad’s workbench wooden boxes, pieces of old desks or old wooden crates as end tables. everyone has their own definition of “treasure”; for us it’s just not always the shiny new stuff.
this weekend marks another earth day, a celebration of support for our beloved home planet. more than 193 countries now mark this day as a day of awareness and honoring. as we move about our days, we make seemingly miniscule decisions about how to handle our little piece of the globe. but each one of these has an impact and the ever-widening ripples will either be adding to the protection of mother earth or contributing to the harm that will adversely effect our earth in the long-term. yes, those blue recycling bags cost a bundle, but it helps. yes, those kitchen cabinets might look old for you, but they’d look better in someone else’s home (who maybe doesn’t have cabinets) than in the dump.
maybe a few sticks or rocks placed here or there in our home reminds us of all that. they are treasures for me. they always have been. we can’t fit all our treasures into our literal ‘special box’ of memories so they sit out. i can’t tell you specifically where each of them came from anymore, but i can tell that each one is meaningful and each one comes from our good planet earth.
when he was a kitten, i wanted to name our cat ‘jack’ but The Girl and The Boy objected. to me, he looked like a ‘jack’ in the way animals look like names, plus every ‘jack’ i could remember meeting had been a really nice guy.
and, in line with my nice-guy-jacks, this jack – the one with the ‘save the beanstalk’ picket sign – is a nice guy.
another case of little-guy-vs-big-guy, jack just wants to face his giant, save what is good, fight for that which he worked hard, keep what is his safe, preserve what is organic and part of the earth. i immediately think of the many marches across our country.
beach towels
speaking their minds, good people are making an effort to face their giants, save what is good, fight for that which they work hard, keep what is theirs safe, preserve what is organic and part of the earth.
i believe that good prevails over giants, in the long run. sometimes, the long run is waaaay long. but good prevails. and beanstalks grow and flourish.
“don’t let that stop you,” she’d say. “remember the little engine,” he’d say. i grew up with parents who encouraged me to not doubt myself or what i could do. i hope that i made them (and are still making them – even on a different plane of existence) proud.
i watch my own children, The Girl and The Boy, and think they have figured this obstacles-thing out.
The Girl texted me photographs. she was in silverton, a vast expanse of ridiculously rugged mountains.
she had (i’m glad i knew about this AFTERwards) snowboarded down these giants. she, literally, dropped off cliffs and boarded down the fresh powder, exhilarated and stoked. her girlfriend said, “we can do it” and they did. omg. amazing stuff! i am filled with awe. and more than a little jealous, in an i-wish-i-could-do-that kind of way. just the sheer chutzpah of it all is at the very heart of don’t-let-that-stop-you-little-engine-ness.
mountain mugs!
life is interesting. always. and obstacles are always there. they make life more interesting. yup. get stoked. rise to the challenges.
right now my favorite boots are my timberland brown and black boots. they are hiking boots and they are always sitting at the back door….poised and ready. in between work(s), we will throw them on and drive off somewhere for a hike; our go-to adventures usually include a hike somewhere. at the moment, these boots are full of mud because the woods around these parts are completely muddy and squishy and on the verge of gleefully welcoming spring. but we don’t let that stop us.
beach towels, throw pillows, bath accessories
now it’s not too out-of-the-ordinary for us as we often have gotten caught in weather, but we chose to be in the woods in the rain last week and ohhh what a gift – the smell of rain dampening the earth was exquisite. looking back, it is one of my favorite moments in the woods and i’m glad to have not missed it.
today we are sitting in lake geneva drinking starbucks coffee and writing, a fire going just beyond our feet perched on the hearth. i think of the day we were out here having a glass of wine at an outdoor cafe. it began to drizzle and we got ready to go, but not sooner than the skies let loose. it poured down buckets of rain and we laughed and splashed through the puddles, playing in the water, nonplussed* by the torrents around us.
leggings
spring is around the corner. grab your rubber boots or your hiking boots or just be barefoot and go splash in those puddles. don’t let a chance to play pass you by.
*(so i just looked up ‘nonplussed’ to make sure i was using it correctly and was surprised to see two opposite definitions of it. the one i meant was ‘unperturbed’ but that was the second definition; the first definition was surprised and confused. words are funny, aren’t they?)
listening to this piece i wrote and recorded in the midst of the AND GOODNIGHT ~ A LULLABY ALBUM, i am reminded of moments with my babies, The Girl and The Boy. I WILL HOLD YOU FOREVER AND EVER…oh yes. moments in that rocking chair in the nursery, moments gently dancing to marvin gaye’s‘i heard it through the grapevine’ in the sitting room (oddly, the only song in the early days that would quiet The Girl to sleep), moments holding hands and walking, moments of hugs of joy, of hugs of encouragement, of hugs comforting hurts, moments carrying boxes into dorm rooms, moments painfully driving away from the places they each live across the country. it does not matter if i can wrap my arms around them. i will – forever and ever – hold them.
this is on the lullaby album for just those reasons. the album is a compilation of old lullaby songs all performed solo piano; it was a project of love.
but this piece of music could just as easily been on an album of love songs. a while ago i thought about a wedding album and this would have been a track. for as i think about the comfort of being held and holding another, the holding-on-tight-dancing-in-the-kitchen, the letting-go of everything as you embrace, the end-of-day laying down together, the wherever-you-are-there-i-will-be of love, the exquisiteness of understanding the words ‘forever and ever’, i can see where it plays a dual role. for, yes, we hold all who we love and have loved forever and ever.
president jimmy carter was being interviewed by stephen colbert on the late show. stephen asked him (words to the effect) how he could love all people. president carter, absolutely sweet at “almost-94”, responded he “let go of the animosities he had cherished.” wow. although there were many moments in the interview that reinforced the respect i have for this man as a positive force in the world, this one really struck me. -let go of the animosities you cherish-
for who among us can not relate to that? how tightly do we hold to those things? and how do they prevent us from living right now? life is layered and our history and everything, from small slights to life-changing wrongs that others have done to us or our loved ones to -worse yet- all of our own wrongdoing, piles up like dark layers of sedimentary rock. weathering, weathering, weathering. how can we possibly be zen in all that?
president carter also said that he “forgets about them”…the people who have caused him undue pain or stress, who have been perhaps, i think, a dark layer of sedimentation in his life. now, at almost-94, my own sweet momma would have agreed with him. he reminded me of her. two peas in a pod. leading with kindness and generosity. forgetting about the rest in all the ways that forgetting is a good thing. who really has room in their life to hang onto all that and still make headway toward goodness?
from david’s painting MEDITATION, this morsel of painting – called LAYERED MEDITATION – makes me think of these layers of sediment, layers of life. the darkness on the bottom -not necessarily because it is buried but because it is overruled by other layers- the fire of passion and earth-life in the middle and the effervescence of light on the top. sedimentary layers of life. a picture of letting go, of transforming dark into light. a layered meditation.
ahhh. i don’t even know where to start on this one. what angle do i speak from? the fears inside us? the unknown? those who hold power over us? and how do i avoid the obvious? or do i walk right in?
the goliaths out there know who they are. they are puffed up and loud and full of you-can’t-get-me-ness, mean-spirited and self-righteous, self-centered and whatever is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum of compassionate. they are BIG and are convinced, even, that they are bigger than anything. they think nothing can touch them.
but it’s not true.
you don’t have to look too far to find the davids out there. the driven, dedicated, passionate, thinking, empathetic, big-hearted, others-centered people who commit themselves to causes and gather power around them. they are fearless.
nothing that is rotten at the core survives long. including goliath. even if he didn’t think it was possible. to those goliaths i say, “yes! be scared!”
two people get credit for this “just shrug”: 20 (aka john) and justine. it was in the “old days” when i was at the graphic design studio what felt like all the time when i learned this mantra.
20 designed the first ten or so of my album jackets (and traycards, if you want to get specific.) i would spend time with him and justine (the person who made things happen at the office) idea-brainstorming or watching layout. i can’t tell you how many times deadlines would rapidly approach or the print shop would goof on a run or the computer would glitch or…. i would inwardly be freaking out (and maybe outwardly), but 20 and just would be even and relaxed (at least on the outside.) one or the other would look at me and say, “just shrug.” after about a zillion times, it stuck.
shrugging off the stuff that stresses us out is not a science. it’s most definitely an art form – approached and accomplished differently by each person who attempts it. everyone chooses different crayons out of the box, everyone paints with different size brushes, everyone chooses a different key on the piano, everyone sings a different song, everyone relaxes a different way, everyone re-centers differently. but people are able -and if they weren’t, we would all be a paralyzed-with-stress community of people- to slough it off, to let it roll off their shoulders, to move on, to shrug.
i once heard an interview with a woman who was about 95. she was happy, happy, happy and spoke of her life. the interviewer asked her, “to what do you attribute your happiness, your ease in the world?” she answered, “i don’t take anything personally.”
i could hear the saxophonist on the corner out the window; it’s not uncommon in nyc. at yamaha artist services to record the two solo piano hymn albums, i was caught up in the christmas carol he was playing, only a little concerned that it would bleed onto the recording. the amazing “it’s fine!” ken can handle anything.
my task was to get onto tape (so to speak) the material for both of the hymn albums: ALWAYS WITH US Volume 1 and ALWAYS WITH US Volume 2. it was easy for me to compile a list of the hymns to play; so many years of church music gives me an advantage that way. but on every album, even if it is music i haven’t written but am giving my own voice to (like the hymn albums or christmas albums or lullaby album) i always include one or two pieces that i have composed – a signature of sorts. for always with us volume one it was the title track. ALWAYS WITH US is a statement of my belief that we are never alone, we are always surrounded by infinite grace and love – God is always with us. like all the tracks on the hymn albums, this piece is solo piano.
part of that time in the city, i also recorded the album AS IT IS. i had a list of titles and in-between recording hymns, i would take out the list and simply play the word. but i’ve talked about that before. this album was a personal creative challenge and took on a life of its own.
back in chicago, in post-production work, ken wrote orchestration arrangements (he is brilliant) and brought in musicians to record on tracks for the AS IT IS album, starting with the solo piano recordings. these new tracks went beyond the solo piano versions – in texture, in diversity, ultimately, in emotion.
yesterday i wrote about process in david’s painting. the same -yet different- process exists in recording music. the coming-together of layers, with what is in a layer below sometimes hidden, a breath you can’t hear, but can feel. i am awed by what the whole becomes from the whole.
always with us exists in two forms. both are relevant to the album they are within. both speak a language. but both tell the same story – for those who listen – that we are never alone. God – or whatever you call this presence- is always with us. and if you listen, maybe with your mind’s eye, you might even hear the strains of a saxophonist on the corner in the city at night.
ALWAYS WITH US – on the album AS IT IS
ALWAYS WITH US – on the album ALWAYS WITH US VOLUME 1