we notice stuff. seriously. little things. we always lean on the artistic side of everything we encounter (although that left brain rears up for both of us, it is in different ways.) so as we walk or hike, we will notice rocks that look like hearts, patterns of leaves on the ground that form beautiful carpets, sunsetting color that illuminates a field with golden light, wildlife that crosses our path – big and tiny. we hear – and stop to listen to – the song of cicadas, the honk of frogs, the call of birds in the woods, the chirp of chipmunks, the rat-a-tat-tat of woodpeckers, the coo of mourning doves. we look for changes in the scenery since the last time we hiked and we notice. little things. and tracks.
these little tracks were in our driveway…in the act of quickly going out to the car to leave we could have missed them. that would have been too bad. the breath that these sweet tracks provided me was invaluable…a pause in a busy day, a moment of appreciating nature around me, a grounding humbleness that i am merely one in a boundless universe, a heart-connection to these small creatures…a part of a whole.
WE live here. on this beautiful planet earth. we have inherited it from those before us and we will pass it on to those who live beyond us. it is our responsibility to leave it as-good-as or better than we received it. (my sweet momma’s teaching…in all things.)
OUR. responsibility. we cannot just take; we must give back. and, as in all things, the things we learn must be applied, even if it’s hard, even if it’s inconvenient, even if it costs us, even if it won’t directly benefit us but will, alas, benefit those beyond us; our work, our diligence, our values, our dedication, our respect will transcend us.
the first thing The Girl did the morning before she drove back to the high mountains was to put her personal stamp on her new vehicle IVY. she planned carefully where to place the two stickers on the far back passenger side window. the POW sticker – protect our winters – a cause she believes in. on their site, “Outdoor sports is a way for the public to understand the consequences of climate change, and what we stand to gain by stopping it, or lose by failing to. We all need winter.”
it’s bracing. the changes OUR beloved planet is experiencing. the changes in weather, the changes in resources, the changes, ultimately, in the way we will each live – all around the world. the questions of being able to grow ample food supply, have enough clean water, and sustain this – what is, by sheer comparison – tiny planet in the vastness of space.
i stood in the living room of the historic mining house My Girl lives in right in the middle of telluride, colorado and saw this poster on the wall. each of the renters in this house, directly or indirectly, depends on the health of the outdoors in these high mountains for their livelihood. who among us does not truly – when you trace all things back to their source – depend on the health of OUR environment? NO SIDES IN CLIMATE.
everything we do or don’t do will affect this good earth. who is it that said, “you don’t know what you have till you lose it”? we take for granted that for which we should have the simplest and deepest of gratitude.
OUR earth. were it not here, where would WE live? how would SIDES matter?
hope. there aren’t many words like this…describing that which you can actually-viscerally-feel in your body. it makes you breathe differently. it makes your heart beat faster. it makes your knees weak and your ability to wait strong. it makes you weep with anticipation and holds you close with others who are also hoping.
wishing you a season of hope, a season of expectation, a season of joy, a season of peace.
THE ABUNDANCE SALE: there is an abundance of THIS SEASON – A CHRISTMAS ALBUM CDs in stock. i would rather have these solo piano albums playing in homes and cars and keeping people company than in the boxes of inventory. so…..the first 100 people who order this album will receive it for $5 plus tax and shipping. at this time of generous gift-giving, you may order as many as you wish at this price through December 17.
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THE ABUNDANCE SALE: i am also offering the solo piano album ALWAYS WITH US VOLUME 1 – HYMNS OF FAITH at this same price. in this case, the first 300 CDs ordered will be $5 plus tax and shipping. this album is meditative and reassuring, traditional hymns played solo piano, an hour of reflection. at this time of generous gift-giving, you may order as many as you wish at this price through December 17.
peace signs. the word peace. ornaments of peace. our home is punctuated with these. i believe it is possible – peace. but then, for truly big things, i believe in that which i cannot see.
the days older that i get, the more i see the simplest things are the things that bring me peace: the moment in the car with my beloved daughter, driving and laughing in the high desert or standing on a red rock precipice overlooking a canyon, tears in my eyes. the moment my beloved son let me link arms walking through the city or his hugging me -one more time- right before the train, yes…tears in my eyes. being -anywhere- with my beloved husband. all the stuff of deep soul warmth. the stuff of good tears.
i have found that peace doesn’t have to be complicated. it is simply there. in the very tightest concentric circle around me. if i can be at peace, perhaps i can do my part, i can ripple that outward. and maybe, eventually, with all our ripples, peace and earth will truly combine to be PEACE ON EARTH.
we drove into new york from pennsylvania and one of the first things we saw on this beautiful drive was this sign. “it can wait,” it declared. so true. what’s so important that can’t wait a few miles? traveling at just 60mph that would only be a mere 5 minutes away. i was infinitely proud of my homestate of NY and the effort to acknowledge and accommodate today’s technology while not superseding safety. distracted driving is against the law in many states, including NY and for good reason. we have all been privy to devastating stories, accidents that might have been avoided, moments when paying close attention should be paramount. providing a place to communicate is smart; these text stops were fairly frequent on the road and there were always cars and trucks parked there. but on the road, speeding down the highway? no technology present.
we are kind of at the back end of technology, david and me. the girl and the boy are smack dab in the middle of it. and the little children and young teens we see running around with ipads for entertainment or their own cellphones are clearly at the leading edge. we’ve watched while standing in line, even at the post office, as a mother hands a small toddler a phone to play with while waiting. i’m not sure where conversation or making up games or riddles on the fly went. i remember standing in a zillion lines in the post office with the girl and the boy (shipping has been key in my business) and they seemed perfectly content to wait or, ohmygosh, just talk. no technology present.
but it’s different now (saying this is a sure sign of us getting older) and everything is more immediate and more distracted. how many times have you seen a couple together in a restaurant with cellphones at the ready, lingering halfway between their tablemate and the pull of the internet or the text or instagram or twitter… the look on one of the faces an expression of defeat or, worse yet, an aloofness that comes with not being able to compete with the magnetic pull of that small device across from them. “it can wait,” i whisper silently, wishing the other person at the table could hear. what’s so important it can’t wait? what’s more important than those moments spent together, really together? paying close attention. no technology present.
it’s not every day you pull into a parking lot and park next to a potato. even at church. we never considered parking in the same spot as the potato. it was clear that spot was taken. and as two artists living in this world together, we don’t question things like that. we parked in the next spot over. i mean, every potato deserves a little respect.
just last saturday evening, out on cape cod, we lingered over seafood and glasses of wine with jonathan, our bass player. we were sitting around his table, chatting about music.
he told us about a group of musicians he rehearses with on an irregular basis. they play a wide variety of instruments and they all just gather casually together and jam on some “good music”. “…and once in a while we play the same stuff…” he stated. his voice trailed off as he thought about what he had just said and we all laughed. we can picture a whole group of jonathans in the room – all exuberant and, each, lovers of all music, all pick-ready, mouthpiece-ready, reed-ready, hands-poised-over-the-keys-ready. that kind of enthusiasm shouldn’t be curbed or restrained. the sheer joy of playing – now that’s the reason to be all together. it’s not about playing all the notes on the page, playing them all perfectly at the same time, playing them with no mistakes. it’s about heart. it’s about the breaths and the rests of silence, the flip-flop your heartbeat makes when soaring notes come together in a sweeping harmony, the tears you get in your eyes when something you just played or heard is sublimely sweet, dynamically touching, deeply resonant, the belly laugh with the ridiculously dissonant moment.
the ukulele sip ‘n strums are about just that. if we can choose to teach anything at those sip ‘n strums, i would choose to teach just these things. the things of joy. music is all about individual hearts…coming together with the immense gift of twelve notes at our literal fingertips. no matter what we play, we are playing the same stuff.
it’s not a complex piece of music. it’s a line out of my heart at the moment in time i was recording it. it’s the mystery that surrounds waiting. it’s the depth of biding one’s time. it’s the expression of sitting tight and holding on, of not-knowing. it’s the tentative simplicity of before…before the time of getting to the end of waiting. it’s the time of anticipation, of advent – the time of emergence, of arrival, of birth.
it’s not complicated. it’s just waiting.
download JOY – A CHRISTMAS ALBUM on iTUNES or CDBaby
we played a game on the roadtrip back from boston and time spent with our beloved boys and family and friends. our on-the-road-many-hours-to-pass game was “if i were first lady/first man, my platform would be….” we spoke about what we would choose as our impassioned work, the reasons we would choose that very important work and how we would try to support it.
coming back – after thanksgiving gratitude and in the beginning of this beautiful holiday season – to this painting morsel of HELPING HANDS and the full image of david’s deeply touching HELPING HANDS painting, i can think of no better platform than that of those two words – helping hands.
as i look at a few of the throw pillows i designed through the months of our FLAWED CARTOON postings, i remember some of the stories i told in those posts…what the FLAWED CARTOON sparked in my memory bank or made me think of. you are what you eat reminds me, once again, of my big brother – and the words he had written on his sticker-decorated-painted-verses-nylon-string guitar. so much possibility!!! makes me think of my sweet momma and her determination to drive her electric wheelchair downstairs in her assisted living facility to dinner all-by-herself. face your giant a sign of the times, fearless – each of us brave, every single day. i will try to see i to i an honest attempt at kind, gracious co-existence. and dream. of course, dream.
this is week 42 of our STUDIO MELANGE. and as i look back through all the writing and thoughts and designs and merchandise, i relive each one…reminders of time flying by, of days passing, of the ever-importance of our heart-stories.
i hope you might find a pillow you can’t live without in this week of throw-pillows-to-purchase-as-gifts-this-holiday-season. but if not, i hope you find a writing that resonates with you and reminds you of the value of your own stories.
reverse threading 