Blossom

My last post was April 14th––over two months ago––and nothing much has changed with the pandemic. It is still raging and cases are rising again in America as people refuse to believe science, experts, and advice to wear masks to protect other citizens. There has also been racial unrest and protests of every kind.
So this poem is about a very small, innocent pleasure I am missing this summer among all the tragedy and needless suffering. In northeast Ohio we have a large outdoor concert venue called Blossom Music Center. Every famous band and musician has been there over its 50+ years, but it is also the summer home of the world famous Cleveland Orchestra. I sang in the Blossom Festival Chorus behind that orchestra for over fifteen years.

Blossom

What I will miss the most

is the grass checkered with blankets,

the light dimming with each movement,

crystalline sounds, the bows slivering

the stage into tiny shards of aural wonder

until they disperse into the night.

Then the moment of silence before the 

eruption of the crowd, like thunder 

under the shelter of wood and sky.

How my eyes will fill from the beauty,

how I will recall all the years on that stage,

one cog in a triumphant musical chorus.

I will even miss the long and slow walk 

back to the car among thousands of others,

pulling our coolers of wine and cheese,

blissful and sated under a tiara of stars.

Music I Missed

I think I missed a lot being a good girl. I grew up ensconced in the safety of a church. It sat at the top of my street and it gave me music, friends, and a deep love of God. There is nothing wrong with any of that. I was happy, but I missed a lot of good music, and maybe some coming-of-age experiences I should have had then––not later.

In the 70s it was James Taylor, John Denver, and Seals and Crofts. I went to their concerts at the Coliseum and Blossom Music Center. At Blossom, James Taylor was so popular that we sat in my car in the parking lot until 1:00AM just trying to get out. Seals and Crofts was so popular that we parked all the way out by the street on the grass, walking for 20 minutes to get to our car. John Denver was so popular that he filled up the Richland Coliseum––something very few artists could do today (especially since the Coliseum no longer exists).  So I wasn't alone in my love of these artists.

In the 60s it was definitely Motown. In the 80s it was contemporary Christian music all the way––especially Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith. I was a youth counselor at my church and we constantly took the kids to concerts of "famous" CCM artists like Petra, David Meece, Steve Taylor, Randy Stonehill, Kathy Troccoli, Phil Keaggy, Sheila Walsh...whatever happened to all of them? I lived and breathed that music. I sang solos of their songs in church. We taught the youth group their songs. It was a lot of fun. My kids still hear Amy Grant every Christmas morning at my house. It's all good.

I always liked the Beatles, of course, also Elton John, the Eagles, Crosby, Stills & Nash. But what I never listened to was Pink Floyd, The Who, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, Queen, The Doors,  Grateful Dead, Fleetwood Mac, Aerosmith, Santana, Genesis, Deep Purple, Allman Brothers....

In Cleveland that was WMMS––never listened to it. 

But here's the strange thing. I LOVE this stuff now. I married a man who went to all of those concerts. When we met he was puzzled by my lack of classic rock knowledge since I am a bit older than him.  I'm learning to appreciate all this innovative and amazing music now, when I'm old! Even weirder is the fact that I have had the opportunity to go to the concerts I never saw forty years ago!

The first concert I ever begged to go to was The Monkees. I'm sure it's a big surprise that Davy Jones posters hung all around my bed. My parents felt I was too young to go and I was devastated. I still have my diary. I wrote: "Today is the worst day of my life because Mom and Dad won't let me go see the Monkees." (That turned out to not be true.) However, I saw Mickey Dolenz and Peter Tork at a small venue of other 60s idols. (Gary Puckett was even creepier as an old man singing "Young Girl.")

But in the last decade I have seen: Elton John––I missed the goofy costume era though, Eric Clapton––really fun to hear Layla,  Roger Waters–– the Pink Floyd concert I never saw, including the laser pyramid, Paul McCartney––I cried shamelessly, Diana Ross––still fabulous. We've also seen Greg Allman and Bonnie Raitt, and next week I'm going to see The Who!

Who would have ever thought I'd be seeing these icons in the 2000s? 

So, yes, I missed the true era of classic rock, but as long as these rockers are still alive there is always the chance that they'll come to Cleveland, and I'll try to experience what I missed––so long ago. 

Award Season

Art and creativity, in any form, is a good thing. I need to be creative in some way almost every day. There are many actors and actresses that have been born with a talent as well as a face or body that appeals to us on a movie or television screen. We enjoy what they do and many do it very well. But I have a problem with why they need to be constantly rewarded and adored for it.

There seems to be a televised event scheduled about every week for the next month or two.  I used to love watching these spectacles. When I was a girl I practiced my acceptance speech for my Academy Award because I was going to be the next Julie Andrews.  My dad and I would bet on who we thought would win.

Then slowly over the years I saw the self-congratulatory celebrity worshipping for what it was and I stopped caring who won or didn't win. Then I began watching to see the fantastic and over-the-top dresses on the red carpets. I dreamed of wearing something like that just once in my life (which will never happen).  My daughter had worked for a well-known fashion designer in New York City and it sparked my interest in fashion even though I have no visible fashion sense of my own. (Now I can see them in the news the next day.)

As the decades went by and award shows multiplied America became consumed by a celebrity culture and it became more and more distasteful to me.  Here are people who are exceedingly overpaid, privileged, worshipped and catered to because they are in the movies or television. They simply spend their lives pretending to be other people and on top of their success and fame they need to be constantly awarded for it! Actors appear to live in their own special world of self-importance and mutual admiration. They cannot get enough attention and praise. America contributes to this inequity by buying entertainment magazines, watching entertainment gossip shows and spending enormous amounts of money on movies and entertainment. 

I never got an award for teaching for over 30 years. Have you been extravagantly awarded for your job, your efforts, even for volunteering your services to help others? Where are the awards for the social workers, foster parents, hospice nurses, teachers—the people who work for much less and impact society in a positive way every day? The people who actually work hard under often inadequate conditions with no bonuses, privileges or accolades.  

I don't think movies or television shows are useless. They can be moving and thoughtful or just an escape from real life. They show the creativity of human beings and are often stunning in their imagination and their visual beauty, but that does merit award after award each year. The public  already pays a ridiculous amount of money to go see them in the theaters and now we pay for television too. 

Music is very important in my life, but music awards now consist of the most outrageous videos, dancing, costumes and performances. It is not about the music any longer. There are still unbelievably talented and innovative musicians in the world but they are not the ones you will see on award shows. It's just a popularity contest: who got the most attention, who is the most attractive, or sold the most records. It has nothing to do with quality and talent as far as I can tell. 

People should continue to use their creative skills to produce all types of art. But the incessant need for "awards" is of no value except to the overblown egos of those who already have been rewarded excessively in every other way.

I Want to Party Like It's 1999

Well, it's happened again. I don't really believe in the supernatural, but I can be open-minded. Someone is haunting me. This has happened two other times before. First, Michael Jackson, then Whitney Houston and now Prince.  This time is most surprising because I didn't even know I was a Prince fan.

I awake in the morning with his songs in my head and it goes on all day. With Michael it went on for months, and they weren't just songs that I had recently heard in the overwhelming news coverage of his death. They were just songs from my life—from everyone's life, because Michael had always just been there. That was the shock of it. People who grew up in the 60's like me had never been without his music, his presence, his sad I-missed-my-childhood story. I found that women my age had maternal feelings towards Michael Jackson.  His talent was vast and unique, but his story was just as compelling.

Michael was mysterious and that is the trademark of Prince as well.  They both knew how to create striking and memorable visual images of themselves—often wearing things no one else would wear.  There's Michael in his white socks, flood pants and his mother's sequined jacket.  There's Prince with his make-up, high heels, a scarf on his head and a boyish bare chest.

I think we all feel an extra sense of loss when someone dies with so much talent left to give. Musicians that we love are simply a part of our lives. Music, as we all know, can bring a sense of deja vu. Oh, that song was playing during my first kiss. Someone sang that at my wedding, or we danced to it on that special date.

And, of course there is the notion that all three of these artists died much too soon. It was unexpected. The fact that there are drugs involved does not seem to alter our grief. As I write this, we don't know about Prince, but prescription painkillers have been mentioned.

I have a theory about why people so iconic, so loved and so in demand take drugs. Simply because it is not normal to be idolized.  Yes, they asked for it, maybe craved the attention. I think the way they must give to everyone around them every day of their lives just wears them out.  I myself cannot imagine never being able to be anonymous, to never have peace, to always be sought after, to have to hide to have anything resembling a normal life.

So why do they continue to lay themselves out to the public? Because they must. They were given a singular gift of music and unbounded talent, and in my estimation, they had no choice.  It was what they were born to do.

I  have a small, meek comparison to share. I have been singing solos, mostly in a church setting, since I was 14 years-old.  I still am a nervous wreck before I sing. I  have anxiety dreams without fail in the few moments of actual sleep I get before singing.  I question why I torture myself. At this age, I could easily give it up—but something inside me will not let me. I don't think I'm a great singer, but time and time again people have been touched by my songs. So I have been given a gift by God, however small, and I believe I am meant to share it.  Just imagine if my gift was enormous, unique, powerful enough to move millions of people.

This society is celebrity obsessed and we treat these people like they are there to serve us and meet our expectations. These three particular artists didn't mean to leave the earth so soon, but they left us with an abundance of memories and music. It just could have been so much more...

Whitney Houston

The photo is from the video" How Will I Know". One of the cutest videos ever. When my daughter reminded me this week of dancing around the living to Whitney's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me) I thought about why we're so sad when some singers leave us. After all, they were just singers and we didn't know them personally, right?

Singers often give us happy memories. We love their songs, we love the way they interpreted them with their singular talents, we love the memories attached to them. The songs remind us of a different time in our lives. That's why.

Yes, celebrities are just people like us, but to me, Whitney, just like Michael Jackson, came to us with God-given talents. They had no choice but to share them with the world. And they did, but they also paid the price of a greedy world. I think being so famous is life-altering. It's not normal. They must feel infallible and untouchable and maybe that's why they leave us too soon. We all know drugs take us away from reality, and the unreal lives they lived as worldwide celebrities is probably too much for human beings to handle. I believe Whitney, like Michael, came to do what they were supposed to do,and it's OK if we miss them.

If you've never seen the videos for "How Will I Know" or "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" find them on You Tube. You'll dance.

Where Have All the Protest Songs Gone?

I've been thinking about this long before I read a review in yesterday's Plain Dealer about a book called "33 Revolutions." The author Dorian Lynskey wrote, " I began this book intending to write a history of a still vital form of music. I finished it wondering if I had instead compsed a eulogy."

I am word person, a lyric listener. The sole reason I love certain songs are for their meaningful lyrics. My daughter gave me satellite radio for Christmas. I figured I would hear all kinds of new music and new brilliant lyrics - but, not so much. I started wondering why twentysomething artists are not commenting on the state of our country or the world anymore. Certainly there are enough reasons to protest!

I grew up in the 60's and 70's when, yes, we had our share of bubble-gum pop, but also evocative, mind-changing lyrics that impacted who I became in some ways. We had Neil Young singing four dead in Ohio, songs like "He Ain't Heavy, He's my Brother", Dylan's "The Times They Are A-Changin'" Come senators, congressmen, please heed the call. Don't stand in the doorway, Don't block the hall. For he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled. There's a battle outside and it's ragin'. It'll soon shake your walls for the times, they are a-changin."
Other songs like "Eve of Destruction" and "For What It's Worth." I could go on and on.

Now I hear one of the recent top songs is "Just the Way You Are." Didn't Billy Joel write that a few decades ago?
When I see your face there's not a thing that I would change, 'cause you're amazing just the way you are." Brilliant, huh?

Another popular one says, "You're so delicious, you're so soft, sweet on the tip of my tongue. You taste like sunlight and strawberry bubble gum."

Even the music is boring. I call them silly little ditties. There's even one called "The Giant Turd Song" but I'll let you imagine the lyrics.

The "Just the Way You Are" rip-off is an artist named Bruno Mars. In the PD review a critic from The New Yorker named Sasha Jones said in her critique of Bruno, that most current pop stars seem oblivious to the times in which they live.

So I did a web search for more recent protest songs. Guess who was doing them in the 2000's? Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen, Patti Smith, Tom Waits... sound familiar?
I looked for some younger artists and there were a few: Pink and her "Dear Mr. President" - What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street? Who do you pray for at night before you sleep? What do you feel when you look in the mirror?

Greenday's "American Idiot" - Don't want to be an American idiot, one nation controlled by the media, information age of hysteria.

John Mayer's "Waiting for the World to Change" apparently his protest against the apathy of his contemporaries in song writing. Now if we had the power to bring neighbors home from war, they would have never missed a Christmas, no more ribbons on the door."

There were a few more - Pearl Jam, Lenny Kravitz, Eminem, Arcade Fire, but can you think of a current song that is going to stand the test of time like the ones written in the passionate time of the 60's and 70's? We are in two on-going wars, we have lived through a disastrous economy, we have poverty and hunger, celebrity worship and disease - doesn't anyone have anything to say? I am around a considerable amount of twentysomethings and I don't hear anything.

Where have all the protest songs gone?

Julie Andrews

Yesterday on NPR I heard that it was Julie Andrews' 75th birthday and I smiled. Julie was my childhood idol. I loved her in Mary Poppins and then - THEN! - on my 10th birthday I saw "The Sound of Music" and it has been my favorite movie ever since (and that's a long time). Somewhere in the bottom of an old trunk probably lies a large envelope full of every photograph of her from every movie magazine in the 60's that I could find. I still think Julie is beautiful, immensely talented and the epitome of eloquence and grace. I wanted to BE her - and I still do :)
Her 2008 memoir called "Home" is much more than the usual celebrity list of anecdotes. It is a fascinating and touching memoir of her life right up until her big break in Mary Poppins. I do hope she writes another one and tells us the rest of the story as only she can.

In 2003 I had the amazing opportunity to go to Salzburg Austria on a choir tour.(That's me in Salzburg in the photo.) I had the excitement of a child on Christmas Eve anticipating the chance to walk where Julie walked during the filming of "The Sound of Music". I knew the places and the songs by heart. It was just as glorious as I imagined and of course, being in Europe, it still looked exactly the same as it did in the 1965 movie. I climbed the same steps that they sang "Do-Re'Mi" on and stood by the fountain where she sang "I Have Confidence". (There's a video somewhere of me at the front of the tour bus leading a rendition of "Do-Re-Me" too.)

I don't really believe in celebrity worship, but Julie... well, that's different.

Heal the World - Michael Jackson

Marc Cohn - The Power of Music and Lyrics - Part 2

On February 7th I wrote about the power of music and lyrics, and this week I saw it in action. My son and I went to see Marc Cohn (of "Walking in Memphis" fame) perform at the Kent Stage. Cohn has been a favorite of mine since the early 90's. He's a seasoned performer, making you feel like he's in your living room chatting with you. Some artists are better to see in concert like James Taylor and Marc Cohn. Their personas, the soulful beauty of the voices,and their musicianship are stunning in person. If you've never heard Marc - try to find a You Tube live performance (when he's bald).

At the end of the concert Marc and three others performed (for the first and only time) a deeply moving rendition of the Crosby, Stills, Nash song "Ohio" as we sat in an old movie theater about a half of a mile from where four students senselessly died. I graduated from Kent State and the story of May 4, 1970 still chokes me up.

One of the many things I have always loved about my 28 year-old son is that he appreciates, and is touched, by all types of music. He lets himself feel the music and the lyrics and that has brought me much joy. I admire him now as a man still allowing himself to be emotional at times. Since his teen years we have shared concerts and songs with each other, and it is, of course, very special to me. One of my dearest memories from his childhood is my little boy sitting in front of the stereo, clutching his stuffed "Fievel" from the movie "American Tale", listening to the orchestral soundtrack and crying his eyes out remembering the emotional parts of the movie (when Fievel was in danger!) The music spoke to him. I knew then that music would be an integral part of his life, as it has been in mine.

And so, the power of music and lyrics extends to bonding moments between mother and son - as I hope it always will. Sometime I'll write about the song he and I will dance to at his wedding this summer :) sniff.

Glitter in the Air

If you missed Pink's performance of "Glitter in the Air" at the Grammy's - the one where she's mostly naked, hanging in the air in a swath of material, singing upside down and dripping wet - well, you missed it.
It made me buy her CD and I decided I really like the lyrics of the song - something probably no one heard during that performance - even me, the emo music junkie, the lyric freak - since I was standing in front of the TV with my mouth gaping open.

Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?
Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted.
Have you ever thrown a fistful of glitter in the air?
Have you ever looked fear in the face
and said, "I just don't care?"
It's only half past the point of no return,
the tip of the iceberg,
the sun before the burn,
the thunder before the lightning,
and the breath before the phrase.
Have you ever felt this way?
Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?
Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone?
Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?
Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?
Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight?
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself
will it ever get better than tonight?

The Power of Music and Lyrics

I have sung in choirs and choruses, at weddings and as a church soloist all my life. I've been transported to heaven singing Brahm's German Requiem. I've been honored to sing at weddings of people I don't know. All my life I've had the privilege of choosing songs that were meaningful to me to share with a congregation. But I don't listen to these songs in my car, walking with my ipod, or at home. I exclusively listen to music for lyrics that evoke a certain emotion in me. It's a habit I've had for almost twenty years since a single CD changed me. It was a time when I was experiencing every negative emotion humanly possible, and sometimes no emotion at all. Although it was a tumultuous and frightening time, it also gave me a rush of something new, something swiftly approaching, a nascent hope and a release from the monotony of a former life. Sometimes I listen to those songs just to experience that rush again. Or the one song that still makes me flinch.

There were two CDs that connected to my very soul. One was Tori Amos's Little Earthquakes. With piano sounds and lyrics I'd never heard before, it gave me permission to be angry (which I desperately needed), to scream, to make me feel alive again. I believe I started writing poetry because her lyrics were poetry to me. On the way home from divorce court I loudly sang along with the song "Little Earthquakes" - give me life, give me pain, give me myself again.
The song "Crucify" asked - why do we crucify ourselves everyday? I crucify myself and nothing I do is good enough for you.
"Tear in Your Hand" said - you don't know the power you have with that tear in your hand.
She sang to me - she's been everybody else's girl, maybe one day she'll be her own.
And - sometimes I hear my voice and it's been HERE - silent all these years.
And - these precious things - let them bleed, let them wash away....

Then, the underrated Kenny Loggins made a CD called Leap of Faith, and I thought he was in my brain. It seemed he was feeling the same things I was:
And if I have to make up my mind, maybe now is the time to decide. Every minute makes it harder on me. Why must it be now or never?

Then in "Leap of Faith" he sang - Once in a life you can find the time to see. Then you get to take it down, turn around, temporary sanity. And then the mountain disappears without a trace - and all it took was a sudden leap of faith.

He sang to his daughter in "The Real Thing" - I did it for you and the boys, because love should teach you joy, and not the imitation that your mama and daddy tried to show you. I did it for you and for me and because I still believe there's only one thing you can never give up on and that's the real thing you need in love.


And I played that song for people to try to explain why my life had fallen apart. At the end of that song he sings:
Everybody's got a boat upon the ocean, but not everybody's sailing out to sea. Is there someone there for me? I'm ready to believe...

AND SO - the last song of that album is called "Too Early for the Sun." It was a few years before I could relate to that one:
You're too early for the stars, too early for the wind
too early for my heart to open up again
but when I see you I just laugh, and I believe
I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
I have never known a life like this except in my dreams
one kiss and I arose anew, now I am alive
I have survived.

And so - after seasons of pain and anger, healing and forgiveness - this was our first dance in my living room. This was our first dance as husband and wife. This is our dance every July 6th in our living room. The album Leap of Faith came full circle in my life - how appropriate.

These songs, these lyrics had a powerful effect on me. Some of them changed me, grew me, and healed me. I will always be grateful that these artists sang their truths because they made me understand my own truth. Music still does that for me.

Michael

Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Free tickets, great seats. Three hours of supreme light show. Screaming guitars, obligatory drum solo. Incredible rock arrangements of classical music. Laser lights, lots of fire. Unnecessary dancing girls. Long-haired men in long black coats. Long-haired girls in much less. Fog machine. Moving platforms. Fireworks. Rock version of CAROL OF THE BELLS - priceless.

Coexist XXVI - With God

I spent most of my teenage years sharing my Christian faith with others. I grew up in a Methodist church at a time when contemporary music was rare and daring. The associate pastor and his wife were wonderful musicians and they had a heart for teens. I fell into a life of singing,performing and sharing my faith quite naturally.

My high school years were filled with rehearsing and traveling in Christian musicals. Some for teens and then for whole families. I co-directed a musical with the next group of teens, and that unique era in our lives lasted well into my twenties.

As a young wife and mother I continued to be involved in every aspect of the church. My then-husband and I became youth leaders in an attempt to keep that part of our lives with us a little longer. My little children went everywhere with us, including weekend retreats and camps.

Prayer chains and Bible studies were a constant, as well as the many songs I shared as solos in church. I had a one-woman Lenten concert that encapsulated all my beliefs in songs and commentary. Soon after that my entire life fell apart and nothing in my head or heart was familiar anymore. I learned that serving on committees, teaching Sunday school and abstaining from drinking and swearing were not what being a Christian was all about. I discovered that only one thing remained in times of overwhelming pain - and that was God.

The church failed me, friends failed me, my husband most certainly failed me and I fell complettely apart. I learned through counseling that I was a human being with all the same temptations and weaknesses everyone else had. I found out that putting forth an image of being good and spotless did not make you that way. I experienced rage and terror and despair. Many people in my church stopped speaking to me. I was tired of being perfect, tired of being a good example, tired of being a Christian.

I became a single mother and looked for love in all the wrong places. I wore my friends out with my anxiety and I discovered that none of them had any idea what I was going through. I screamed "why me!" over and over at night and I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. And God held me in His arms when no one else would.

Eventually I healed and became a new, more real person. I related to Pinocchio wanting to be a real boy. I stopped being a wooden replica of a woman and actually became one, and realized that maybe that was God's plan all along.

I fell deeply in love for the first time and began a new life, but our not-the-Brady-Bunch blended family was a disaster. How could God let this happen to me again? Wait. Stop. God didn't make it happen. I chose it. Now I needed Him again.

Then to top it off my beloved church left me. Literally. Picked up and moved to another community, dividing the church family and obliterating everything it had once been in my life. I was beyond heartbroken. So,even people who love you let you down, and the fallible human-led church let's you down, and what do you have? Just God.

My son and I sat in the parking lot of the church - the one we'd both grown up in, the one he'd been baptized in by that same pastor I grew up with (and he's named after), the church I'd hoped my children would be married in, just as I was, - and I said: "This has nothing to do with God. He didn't do this. People did this. " But, of course, teenagers love a good excuse to hate church and my church-raised children were no exception. Shit.

I continued my new life with a new husband and a new church, but somehow all the trappings of my very Christian life seemed irrelevant now. Don't get me wrong - my faith stayed strong. God is still in my heart and soul. But that's just my point. Although I see nothing wrong with churches and bible studies and prayer chains - they won't save you. Only God will save you. Only God will love you when no one else does.

In the '70's I was strumming my guitar and singing Christian camp songs and listening to John Denver and James Taylor on the side. I have to admit I deeply regret missing a lot of amazing music that was surfacing at the time. In the '80's I was listening to Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith. There was one simple Amy Grant song, written in 1986, that has always stuck with me, and I've always thought it says it all.

In a little while we'll be with the Father, can't you see Him smile.
In a little while we'll be home forever, in a while.
We're just here to learn to love Him and we'll be home, in a little while.

(From the album "Age to Age". Song by Grant, Chapman, Bannister, Keister)

We're just here to learn to love Him.
To me that line puts all of life in perspective. If you've met God and let Him into your life, then you love Him and you can rest in the knowledge of a loving eternity. This world will shortly be left behind. Earthly life is the time He gives us to choose, to know Him, to use what He's given us. This is your chance. Right now.

I made a stupendous effort to not be a part of the worldly world in my youth, and I succeeded, but at a cost. I believe that my life crisis was used by God to wake me up to the world I really live in. A beautiful world, full of experiences and joy and heartache. It's brief. It's amazing. It's the human experience.

The Dance

Consciousness expresses itself through creation. This world we live in is the dance of the creator. Dancers come and go in the twinkling of an eye, but the dance lives on. On many an occasion when I am dancing I have felt touched by something sacred. In those moments I felt my spirit soar and become one with everything that exists.

I become the stars and the moon. I become the lover and the beloved. I become the victor and the vanquished. I become the master and the slave. I become the singer and the song. I become the knower and the known. I keep on dancing... Then is is the eternal dance of creation. The creator and creation merge into one wholeness of joy. I keep on dancing... and dancing... and dancing until there is only ...the dance.

By Michael Jackson

The Abundance of Talents

Yesterday I took my mom to a local arts center to see the opera "I Pagliacci". It was completely wonderful and professional. Every singer, every scene, every instrumental note. The theater held less than 200 people by my estimate. It was a Sunday afternoon in a relatively small town and the talent blew me away. The singers were, in fact, all professionals, all worthy of a professional opera company - but here they were in a tiny theater singing their hearts out. It made me think of all the talent that abounds everywhere and how we choose to pursue those gifts.

Most of us discovered something we could do - or at least wanted to do - in our youth. Then, depending on our life circumstances we may have been given lessons

or taught ourselves - we may have been encouraged or discouraged by the people in our lives at the time.

I have been compelled throughout my life to express myself through singing, art and now, at a much advanced age - writing. I still feel that I am new to writing poetry and yet, I can see that it's a perfect avocation for me to pursue through the rest of my life, and I have been fortunate to have been encouraged in my poetic pursuits along the way. I still love playing the guitar and make occasional attempts at reviving this love - and then I think - Aw heck, who wants to hear an old lady pretending to be a hippie playing her guitar and singing. And yet - hmmmm maybe you're never too old.

My point is that there is SO much talent in us all and of course we can't all make a living at the things we enjoy doing the most. There are only a few who get to do that - or get recognition for their abilities. The rest of us do it for the love of it - as we should.

I'm reading a book called Ordinary Genius by poet Kim Addonizio. She tells of how she tried to be a classical singer with no background knowledge of what that took. She failed and tried a couple other things, but in her thirties discovered poetry. She says that the premier poetry journal called Poetry has about ten thousand subscribers, but every year has ten times that amount of submissions. That could mean that ten times more people are writing poetry than actually reading it! There is so much talent! But should we stop using our gifts? If you've read this blog for any length of time you know that I firmly believe God gives us gifts to be used. I am glad that the opera singers yesterday shared their gifts whether there were 200 or 2000 people listening.

Cleveland Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

Let's face it - Cleveland doesn't get much good press and the country rarely gives us a break when they have the opportunity to make us a laughing stock of something. This week Cleveland is enjoying some positive attention. We are the home of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame - yet the induction ceremony has only taken place here once since the Rock Hall opened in 1997. Henceforth, it will be here every three years.

This is Induction Week 2009. Last Saturday they held The Moondog Coronation Ball with groups such as Tommy James and the Shondells, Three Dog Night, Herman's Hermits and Little Richard. (I read that Little Richard came on the stage in a wheelchair - now THAT can make you feel OLD.) Tomorrow a new exhibit opens called From Asbury Park to the Promised Land: The Life and Music of Bruce Springsteen. Thursday will see a concert with the O'Jays, Dave Mason and Wanda Jackson. Friday- Little Anthony and the Imperials. Saturday is the Induction Ceremony at Cleveland Public Hall. This year's inductees are Jeff Beck, Little Anthony and the Imperials, Run-DMC, Metallica, Bobby Womack and Wanda Jackson.

I can't say I'm actually attending any of these events, but I'm enjoying the positive atmosphere and the good news in Cleveland for a change. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Museum is a beautiful building that sits in North Coast Harbor on Lake Erie as you can see above. Just this weekend I was listening to the oldies being played in the grocery store and wondering if any of these artists ever dreamed we'd still be hearing their songs forty years later.

A couple weeks ago we met some friends at a restaurant where an "oldies" band was playing. Hearing songs from Junior High and High School was more fun than I imagined. The place was wall-to-wall fifty and sixty-somethings dancing their fool heads off. We LOVE rock and roll and always will.

John Denver

I caught a bit of two TV shows this weekend. The first was VH1's Greatest Hard Rock Songs. Whenever these kind of shows are on my husband can never get over how uncool I must have been in the 70's. I am unfamiliar with some of the top songs or which band recorded them. I've never been to a KISS concert or seen an Alice Cooper show. I truly regret missing some of it because now I not only like many of these songs, but I appreciate the absolute originality and musicality of some of the groups of the 70's. (If you must know - their top song was "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns and Roses - a group I did not appreciate when a poster of an unzipped Axl hung in my adolescent daughter's bedroom!)

The other show was a PBS special on John Denver. Now THAT's what I was doing in the '70's! The folk song thing suited me (and my guitar) just fine. I could play all of Denver's 3-chorded songs (D-A-G). I was a big fan , as well as a big fan of James Taylor, although James's music was a bit more complex.

I remember going to a John Denver concert at a now-long-gone humongous venue called The Coliseum and it was packed. He was actually quite a phenomenon; recording 30 albums with 14 going gold and 8 platinum. His songs conveyed mostly the beauty and goodness of the earth or the bittersweet aspects of loving someone. I loved a lyric like:

He was born in the summer of his twenty-seventh year.

Going home to a place he'd never been before.

I insisted on "Annie's Song" being sung at my (first) wedding even though my mother thought the lyrics - let me lay down beside you - were inappropriate for church.

John Denver seemed to have a childlike joy for life. He was a philanthropist and environmentalist and his music was loved all over the world. His concerts were like a camp sing-a-long - although he requested that the audience only sing during the chorus. His life wasn't all rosy - two failed marriages and a drinking problem. He died in a plane crash at age 53 in 1997. I was truly saddened, but I think he was a person that lived life to the fullest while he was here.

So I am not ashamed to be a John Denver fan. I still pull out my guitar, and the John Denver songs are the simple and lovely songs I still know by heart.

Why I Love Sad Songs

It's the 50th anniversary of Motown! While reading an article about this momentous occassion :) I thought about how much I loved Motown songs starting from about fifth grade on. I had big posters of the Supremes on my bedroom walls for quite some time. I thought about some of my favorite songs and yes, they were mostly sad songs. I need to feel something to really enjoy a song. The lyrics are paramount (now anyway, when I was eleven I didn't have a clue.) Some of my favorites were "I Wish it Would Rain" and "Since I Lost My Baby" by the Temptations. "Love Child" and "Reflections" by the Supremes, "Tracks of my Tears" and "Ooh Baby, Baby" by Smoky Robinson. All tear-jerkers.

Back then (in ancient times) I never thought about any cultural differences. Even though I didn't really know any black people in my childhood, these singers were my idols. They brought the best songs to a Junior High heart - simple, catchy, easy to sing along to.

So this may explain why I love sad songs. I like to cry or commiserate right along with the singer. I like to know that I'm not the only one who's felt that way. It's cleansing.

I dug out a few of my albums and 45's (Yeah, I'm old) for your viewing pleasure. Or if you're old like me - a nice memory.

Robert Shaw Chorale

It is not Christmas morning if I do not hear a certain hymn. "Break Forth O Beauteous Heavenly Light" from "The Many Moods of Christmas" by the Robert Shaw Chorale.

Break forth O beauteous heavenly light
and usher in the morning;
Ye shepherds shrink not with afright,
But hear the angel's warning.
This child now weak in infancy,
Our confidence and joy shall be.
The power of Satan breaking,
Our peace eternal making.

I thought the piece was written by J.S.Bach, but on closer inspection I see that he wrote the harmonies - which are gorgeous. Johann Schop wrote the melody. The song just sounds like Christmas to me, but beyond that I am reminded of singing with the great Robert Shaw in 1990. Robert Shaw is considered to be the most influential choral conductor in American history. I had heard about him all my life from my mother who sang with the Mendelssohn Chorus in Pittsburgh under Shaw's direction. Growing up I heard the music of his chorale and stories about the amazing and charismatic man he was.

In 1990 I was singing in the summer version of the Cleveland Orchestra Chorus - The Blosson Festival Chorus. I actually lost count of how many years I sang with them in the summers. (14-15 I think!) It was a great thrill to sit behind the Cleveland Orchestra, long thought to be one of the greatest in the world, and to sing with many guest conductors. Not only did I meet Mr. Shaw (and get his autograph) that summer we did my favorite choral work with him - Brahm's German Requiem. It was an experience I will never forget. My mother was thrilled that I had the experience as well, of course.

The Many Moods of Christmas is the quintessential Christmas album. It was originally recorded in 1963, but you can still buy it today. Click on both of his names above to learn more.