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This is the gift
Yesterday, on the bike path, pedaling home from a stint at the Kickstand Cafe with my computer, there was a small group ahead of me on the path in sunlight that looked almost dusty: A mother – or grandmother – and a child. Like it would have been when I...
The first step to Real is Make-Believe
I’ve longed for a grand piano for years. Decades. Wednesday night I said: “Enough!” and I built one out of an old table, an electric keyboard, a music stand, a big swatch of black velvet and a long scarf. Then I sat down and played it. It was...
Is Poetry Music without Sound?
This is kind of how music looks in my mind. And I hear myself say this all the time: “The key to creative freedom is structure.” I don’t mean structure imposed from outside – but internal structure. Like bones. Like an arc. I ‘get’...
The Butterfly Glass
I can see it. We’re sitting at a table, with a cheap waterglass and a set of watercolor paints. I’m about to go to a birthday party and I’m probably 4 or 5. My mother is painting an exquisite butterfly onto the bottom of the waterglass. She says...
Setbacks …
I got an email today from an artist in my creative-project program, who’s working on an album. She recently joined a rock band, suddenly has extra rehearsals and a half-dozen performances over Valentine’s Day weekend. All of that is great … and at the same...
Stories of my Demise …
Of course you didn’t notice that I haven’t blogged or sent out an ezine for the past two weeks. Why would you? When people post on social media: “I’m sorry I haven’t been here in awhile” I wonder how anyone could ever notice and why would you need to apologize?? ...
What is the Speed of Shame?
I’ve been thinking lately that plaque, or dust, is a phenomenon that happens in many places: on furniture, on our teeth, in our arteries. I know I could learn how to avoid it or remove it or reduce it or manage it, but right now I’m interested in the fact...
Discovering My Boots
This post instigated by a 3-hour she has shiny boots.” My boots have become my hair. I didn’t realize that was happening. I thought that my hair was the only cool thing I would ever have, and when I cut it off, I thought my days of people walking up to me and...
What the heck ARE you, anyway?
I never know what to call the musicians and performers who work with me in my mentorships and online courses. Are they ‘clients?’ Are they ‘students?’ Mentorees? Colleagues-with-questions? So I guess this is a question for you...
