Building the muscle of performing again. Little by little… I know I’m not alone in recognizing that performance is a “muscle”, metaphorically speaking, that needs to be maintained.
performing again
156 weeks, 4 days
I miss my Dad. He passed away on January 31st, 2020. Three years ago today.
About six weeks after his passing — the world changed. He didn’t have to go through all of that.
I’m grateful we could celebrate his life together — at a large extended family gathering — before the pandemic descended. I’m grateful I could sing “for him” at that celebration.
Dad’s family was “salt of the earth” — Irish, Canadian. Amazing people. So proud to bear the same last name.
Back Row: Uncle Chuck, Uncle Pat, Edmond (Dad), Uncle Dave,
Front Row: Aunt Marg, Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunt Rose.
title track “Totem”
I flirted with the idea of calling it Totem (Titanic). Ultimately, I did not. It’s a song that “appears” to be about the fated musicians who played on the HMS Titanic. It is not. It’s about my feeling that my own “musical ship” is sinking. In truth; it is not.
What it is is me, in an unprecedented way, exalting a song and statement of my own. (How dare I point a finger to work in this way?) No. This is me daring to give voice to a part of myself that longs to be heard — a personification of “I sing what I can’t say.” And I answer the song’s final question by uttering the question, “Who am I playing this for?”
Like those musicians, knowing they were about to die, I dare say, “I play this for me.”
touching home
A line from the great Stan Rogers song First Christmas Away from Home takes on a new meaning for me in 2023. “Time for touching home” now means coming back to my own home — rather than the home of my family of origin.
minutes, hours, days
Again, in this construct of a new year, I ever more carefully commit to the minutes, hours, and days.
“It’s only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on earth — and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up — that we will begin to live each day to the fullest as if it was the only one we had.”
Elisabeth Kübler-Ross
what became “Totems”
This body of work, Totems, took a long time. Many obstacles to overcome — but the songs are here now. I’m grateful I had the courage, little by little, to put the pieces together. Thanks always to Ian Hattwick for helping me through it all.
Now comes the hard work of putting it out there.
listen well —
and let the silence reign.
Listen well — and let the silence rain.
Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to simply listen. It may not feel like it does any good. It may feel as though things just go around in circles… but there is some comfort, for the speaker, in being listened to — and even more comfort in them feeling they are heard.
I was given the gift of this quote, years ago, by my father. He had it drawn, in black ink, as a handmade piece of calligraphy. Dad then framed it for me and it has hung, on my wall for years, as a reminder of what Dad must have felt was the best way he could say these things to me.
These words are by the great Canadian novelist Margaret Laurence.
“If this were indeed my Final Hour, these would be my words to you. I would not claim to pass on any secret of life for there is none, or any wisdom except the passionate plea of caring. Try to feel, in your heart’s core, the reality of others. This is the most painful thing in the world, probably, and the most necessary. In times of personal adversity, know that you are not alone. Know that although in the eternal scheme of things you are small, you are also unique and irreplaceable as are all of your fellow humans everywhere in the world. Know that your commitment is above all to life itself.”