he stopped. walking in the top floor room of a nearby antique mall we love to visit, david was struck suddenly by – of all things – tv trays. “we had these!” he exclaimed. “growing up, we had these exact trays!” i immediately took pictures. i knew i would send them to his sister later. for a few moments, he was back in colorado, clipping the tv tray into place, surrounded by his sister, his brothers, his mom and dad.
when we have free time, we peruse antique stores. sometimes we are lucky to amble with our dearest friends. it takes time to walk through antiques – old stuff that connects us to a galore of stories. we stop and tell tales, sharing, laughing, amazed at how long ago are the moments we are speaking of. pole lamps that reach floor-to-ceiling, games, figurines, wooden crates, orange and turquoise vinyl furniture, dolls and toys, china, record albums, ancient suitcases with no wheels, teapots and patterns of corelle-ware, mixing bowls and corningware…everything is part of some moment we have passed through, maybe forgotten, but now surfacing with the touch of some item.
i am really thready, without physical reminders. but with them i can literally touch yesterdays…full of emotion, sometimes pining for times-gone-by. i relish the stories, the re-visiting. i can almost, just almost remember our tv trays. but not quite. i can’t quite put my mind’s-eye-finger on them. maybe we will stumble across them one of these days. and i will stop short.
in the meanwhile, just wondering…what did your tv trays look like?
it is monday morning and i suddenly realized that this blogpost posted without my finishing it. there is so much i wanted to say, too much. my heart breaks, thinking of this world you are inheriting. and my heart soars with wishes for you. both of these.
and so, rather than speaking of vast and chaotic brokenness as well as hopeful and inspired possibility, i’ll take it as a serendipitous sign to let desiderata say it for me. this really sums it up, better than i could. it IS still a beautiful world. in the middle of glowing aspens or the front row of the ballgame. in the high mountains or on the shore of boston harbor. anywhere you are. anywhere you go. you bring it – beauty – and you are standing in it. remember that.
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
i first wrote and recorded this piece while i was working on the twin LET ME TAKE YOU BACK albums. performing the tunes of the 60s and 70s made me feel wistful; memories flooded every note. i’d remember dancing to a song at a prom or listening over and over to another in my room in the basement. they made me picture the windows rolled down in my little blue vw driving on the open roads out east on long island and they brought me the sweet smell of warm sand on crab meadow beach with my red round ball and chain transistor radio. they had me thinking about the songs coming from my sister’s room and the songs my big brother would play on his guitar. so it wasn’t a stretch to write a piece that was all about longing and reminiscing and memories, stories that were deeply set in my heart, times that had gone by. later on we orchestrated this piece for the album AS IT IS. i still associate it with the twin retro albums; the cello line gets me every time. it makes me want to take out all my photo albums and set up a white sheet in the living room to watch the carousels of 35mm slides my poppo called “film funnies”. longing. indeed.
download LONGING track 13 from AS IT IS on iTUNES or CDBaby
it goes by. time. no matter how much you want to hold onto it. there are THOSE moments…the ones you treasure. there are THOSE moments…the ones you want to forget ever happened. the only thing we can depend on, despite wishing otherwise, is that either moment – the one we cling to or the one we abhor – either moment will go by. we can’t hold the sun. it is elusive. it is fleeting. but a new day will come. we can look to the dawn for a fresh start, one more try, a little hope, another moment to cherish.
we didn’t give it a second thought when The Boy told me that he was going to be traveling to the rogers park neighborhood of chicago. of course we were going. we got out the metra train schedule and looked at the sunday trains from waukegan to rogers park, looking at our google maps to see where the restaurant we were meeting him at was located and how to get there from the train station. we will literally trek anywhere if My Boy or My Girl are going to be nearby (or even far) and we have a chance to see them.
we jumped off the train at rogers park and made our way through the streets, enjoying a nice walk, through residential and commercial areas. we turned down clark and then devon and had lunch at uncommon ground, a place known for its rooftop organic farm. when he had to leave, The Boy suggested that we go tour loyola’s lakefront campus before we headed back to the station. we were glad we did; the area was beautiful and we liked rogers park.
six sundays later a beautiful young man had flown out to chicago from new york to pursue his doctoral degree at northwestern university. he moved into a place in rogers park and, four hours after he arrived, took a stroll on clark street to buy hangers at a local store. this aspiring student – just 25 years old – the same age as MY Boy- got caught in the crossfire of two men. he was shot and killed. a mere four hours after his full-of-dreams arrival. i don’t even know what kind of flawed earth we live on when a mom has to learn that her child, following the direction and hard work of his life, has lost his life. my heart breaks for her.
indeed, my heart breaks for every mom, every parent, every human, who has been touched by needless, unwarranted, tragic violence in this world. such despair. where is it safe?
on google maps, there is a small exclamation mark with this caveat: “use caution – walking directions may not always reflect real-world conditions.” i never noticed it before. it’s quite the understatement.
painted on a wall at loyola university in rogers park, chicago
we stopped at the snowboard store and asked the guy there if he could bring a snowboard outside. he happily complied with our request and the last test – making sure a snowboard…The Girl’s livelihood…fit in the vehicle that could potentially become hers. this was right after we picked the vehicle up from our amazing mechanic who happily checked it over for her. this was with the cheering-on and support of dear dear generous friends as we searched for the right snowy-high-elevation-roads-with-no-guardrails-appropriate AWD/4WD SUV.
we had help in the quest for this reliable, affordable vehicle for our daughter who needs something worthy of a momma’s trust in the middle of the mountains. we have been steeped in research, in car-shopping, in internet searches, in spreading the word about this need for safe new wheels. one of these days all that knowledge will drop into the moat in my brain and i will forget it all. until then, we name every SUV as it passes us by…forester, outback, rogue, rav4, crv, patriot, crosstrek. we are grateful to have found this one. grateful for the help.
and this morning, in between tears as she drove away, i said a small prayer and whispered to IVY, her newly-named-new-used-car, to keep her safe.
“emerging artists” the gallery signage reads. or the concert liner notes. or the application for an exhibition. or maybe a residency. supposedly it sounds better than “new artist” or “unknown artist” and precedes the “mid-career” and “established artist” labels. that’s to assume that anyone moves beyond the perceived “emerging artist” moniker, the context of that word swirling around the body of work the person has created and its presence in the world. artists in their fluid creativity are ever-emerging.
the dictionary defines “emerging” as coming into view, coming out, becoming visible, manifesting. i wonder if we could apply this to humankind….are we all emerging? headed in some manifesting direction? “being revealed”, “coming to light” seem to imply good things.
i worry that, in more recent times, i may be becoming a bit jaded.
in looking at humankind as it has been “emerging” lately, i would ask if emerging humans are really “emerging”. as plants emerge from the soil and grow upward, seeking light, they become stronger, taking in nutrients and sun. they will manifest blooms or perhaps vegetables – goodness. as humans emerge, in these days of late, are they seeking light? will they manifest goodness? where are we headed in the vastness? the divisiveness, lack of empathy, ugliness, competition and rage are directions i can’t relate to, directions antithetical to unity, to health. what will bloom in that world?
hopefully, we, as a humankind, will indeed emerge. and that emerging, that coming to light, will be to manifest good. for, actually, we are all ever-emerging.
yesterday, the senate passed the Music Modernization Act, a complex bill that is supposed to help songwriters in these days of streaming. as quoted in one article questioning the feasibility of pushing through this bill as is: “…niche labels and independent musicians face either a zero, or statistically insignificant, chance of a return on their investment through streaming. many report barely paying for a sandwich with their royalties.” (maria schneider, musicanswers.org) yes. creatives are still facing a grotesque misalignment of power and income despite an effort to supposedly be “helped”.
i didn’t know, back when i released my first album, that there would be another…and another…and another…
i didn’t know how vulnerable i would feel each time i released a collection of my soul, turned into tracks of music.
i didn’t know how grateful i would feel each time i stood on stage and spoke to an audience that was there to hear this music – my music.
i didn’t know how many stores, in the early days, would carry these cds (and cassette tapes, way back when), how many times i would be live on QVC-TV, how many radio interviews i would be relishing.
i didn’t know how humbling it would feel that many people would respond to something in my music, something would resonate with them, something would be healing or heartening or touch them.
i didn’t know, through the years, how many thousands of cds would sell, how many boxes i would carry, how many wholesale shows or retail shows i would be present at or how many phone calls i (or wonderful people who worked with me) would make or receive, taking and shipping orders.
i didn’t know that the BMI royalty statements i was getting earlier would soon decline as our world and the internet changed them drastically. the one i got two days ago for a period of the year included 59,000 performance counts and a $47.47 check. streaming has made it unnecessary to purchase a physical cd or even pay for and download an artist’s music and so i agree with the writer who said: “streaming revenue for most independent musicians doesn’t even amount to pocket lint.” (m.schneider)
i didn’t know that the yearning inside me to compose and record more music to be released on cds would be stymied by the cost vs earnings debacle that has been created by an industry that doesn’t lift up the independent, while the behemoths remain behemoth.
i didn’t know how sad it would make me. i didn’t know how it would change me. i didn’t know i would keep wondering ‘what next?’ i didn’t know i would be seeking answers to where i stand as a composer. i didn’t know my piano would call from my studio and i would ignore it, feeling betrayed by a profession that should pay my bills like any other.
i have a unique front row seat to paintings in process. running downstairs to throw in another load of laundry or seek out a tool i need, i will glance at the easel in the studio to peek at what’s up next…this time, the sketch of two people dancing made me stop. it immediately made me thinking of when we have danced in the front yard or the kitchen or out on the deck or on a mountain trail. i got lost in the tango and wandered back upstairs, no new laundry spinning in the washer or tool in my hand.
the next time i looked at the easel i found these two people emerging and color exploding off the canvas. i have learned, in this time of living with a brush-in-hand-artist, that this is the under-painting, a place that involves steps at which i often want to tell him to stop!wait!it’s perfect! sometimes he does – stop. other times he keeps going, for the vision in his mind’s eye is beyond what is on the easel and there is more to develop.
it’s a unique place in the front row. maybe more comparable to back-stage or the green room or the recording studio before “record”…a place of preparation, a place of reflection, a place of swirling beauty, a place of possibility, a place where the-painting-someone-dreams-of-hanging-on-their-wall is being born.
i went back. we had passed this on the street while taking a walk. when it registered a moment or two after we passed it, i had to go back. out of context, it made me laugh aloud. i showed it to jen and she and i both decided on a 3 year old. i mean, it’s a FREE 3 year old!!!!
now….everyone knows THAT’S just not true. i think wryly about the lifestyle difference between people i know who have never had children and people i know who have had 2-4 olds (who grow up into snack-devouring-soccer-playing-music-lesson-taking 8 year olds who grow up into gatorade-guzzling-granola-bar-munching-tennis-playing-nike-sneaker-loving-makeup-wearing-hair-dying teenagers who grow up into university-tuition-paying-care-package-receiving-ramen-noodle-eating-dorm-room-paraphernalia-moving-apartment-sharing-car-driving college students who grow up into….. )