I don’t know where we are – somewhere between Denver and Boise — but I just woke up early (10:30 AM – it’s early, on a tour-bus), opened the bus curtains and saw … sheep.
Sheep running by the side of a two-lane road, with cowboys on horses and herding-dogs. my view interrupted by passing semi-trucks.
I wasn’t fast enough to get a picture, but then I realized – how could I possibly capture this experience in a photo??
And realized – again — why live events are so wondrous. Why hundreds and thousands of people come each night to see these shows we’re performing. The experience – not of having caught it – but of being caught up in it.
Even if I’d been fast enough with my camera – how could my photo capture that?
Only … maybe … I could create a new experience if I told you the story, or made my own story in which I was the small, dark cowboy on his horse – the rich brown of this horse the only vibrant color for miles, the sheep twiddling swiftly on their stick-straight legs, sheep of many sizes all rushing without purpose but holding feebly to a sense of direction and grasping panic to the thought “I do not see the trucks! I do not see the trucks!”
… The cock-sure mottled Australian Shepherd flanking the back of the herd and the two huge, lumbering off-white lumpier dogs that trailed the herd further out in the fields — the two-lane road, the broad, open fields on either side.
And me alone in the empty front lounge of the tour-bus, the only one up at 10:30, and the only time I’ve ever seen all the curtains of the tour-bus open – the second time only I remember us traveling in mid-daylight hours since the start of this tour a month-and a half ago.
That was my exquisite treat this morning. And here is the only picture of sheep I could find – two Christmas cookies I made a few years back and nothing like the absolute deluge of real sheep this morning — but an effort at the experience of my own herd.
Great story…. and I know what you mean about “live experience”…. when you experience something live… for yourself… you become part of the actual event…
a part of the scene…. a piece of the moment… a fragment of the reality…
you hear it, feel it…. smell it… it is a total sensory experience…. there is no subsitute…
you are the magickal harpist… peering out the window of the bus watching the herding sheep… and from the field… to the sheep, the dogs, the cowboys… you are a shadow in the window of an amazing bus…. moving along the highway as the tires sing… you experience them…. as they are experiencing you….. reality… there is no substitute….
a live vision… once captured in your mind…. becomes indelible… like for instance…
coming up out of the stairway at a concert you recently did in Westbury, New York… and seeing you prancing across the front of the stage with your glorious harp all aglow… no movie, TV, or computer screen could even capture to full magic of a moment like that….
-Enjoy the rest of the tour and keep having fun… 🙂 x
I love what you wrote:
“when you experience something live… for yourself… you become part of the actual event… a part of the scene…. a piece of the moment… a fragment of the reality…” and …
“to the sheep, the dogs, the cowboys… you are a shadow in the window of an amazing bus…. moving along the highway as the tires sing… you experience them…. as they are experiencing you….. reality… there is no substitute….”
And then … what you wrote just made this morning’s experience even richer for me – and will make each show richer.
You’re right. Nothing compares to reality-live.
Your are so right about experiencing the moment. As a photographer, I hope to capture the moment and tell a story at the same time. As a ukester, I try to get the onlookers and other players to become a part of the song and its moment. It’s fun, challenging and empowering to see that moment shared.
Just some random Sheep Thoughts.
I’m so glad you commented, Gloria! I was thinking, even as I wrote the blog, about what a successful photograph or painting does in terms of giving a deeper access, rather than just ‘displaying.’ And uke was my first instrument – it does seem to be an instrument of inclusion. Is it because the point-of-entry is so graciously easy?
The little ike brings expectations of fun, when I love the blues and a little swinging jazz. I do play other instruments, but always have one of my babies around. Just might have to pick up a harp. Thanks for stepping outsde of the box and taking us along on your adventures.
Just had a conversation last night about “experiences” and how important they are, and how people forget that. We are living such a crazy, rushed life that we often don’t take the time to “experience” things.
At the same time, what you wrote was so basic – a bunch of sheep on the side of the road, but most of us never see that! Especially the herders on the horses – you painted a magical picture in my mind of this very ordinary moment, that’s not so ordinary to me, and yet, still ordinary…
This small text is “so Deborah”!
I presume, that’s why we love you: Telling a few words about ordinary beings as “sheeps” and at the same time opening our minds…
As a music lover I dare say that being at a live performance is always a special experience that outruns any recorded music. Sitting in a “well performed” concert I almost don’t care about the type of music that is played, but feel the emotions and the “story” of the artists. Sometimes it’s like magic and as part of the audience you suddenly become part of the whole thing.
Looking forward to seeing and listening – or whatever is appropriate on an rock concert with earplugs – you in Berlin!