tag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:/blogs/blog?p=1Blog2023-10-16T09:56:09-05:00Snapshotmusicfalsetag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156972015-01-20T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T17:56:36-05:00Share a Winter Wander With Me
<p class="Standard">Share a winter wander with me</p>
<p class="Standard">And you too will see</p>
<p class="Standard">How grand your body can be</p>
<p class="Standard">lead it like a yoga instructor leads a final “dead man’s pose”</p>
<p class="Standard">Your toes are the canary in the coal mine. They will be the ones to alert you that you should think about shelter.</p>
<p class="Standard">If you are only 5 minutes away, you’re fine: you can stay out. If, however, you’re 20 minutes away, you should wrap up what you’re doing and head home.</p>
<p class="Standard">Kind of like your bladder: when you first hear it say, “I gotta go pee”, it’s only 1/3 full. So again, if the bathroom is right down the hall, no biggie…but if you’re driving down the highway in Nebraska, you better start looking for a rest stop.</p>
<p class="Standard">Like the tickle in the back of your throat that announces in an irritating voice: “I’ve got a cold.” If you could use a break from work; you’ve some sick days stored away and you like the idea of sitting with a blanket wrapped around you, sipping hot tea in front of a fire, reading a book and blowing your nose…then no worries, just take some minor precautions like eating good food and sleeping enough so your cold won’t be as bad…give your body the strength to…</p>
<p class="Standard">1:13 furnace on 68.5 degrees</p>
<p class="Standard">1:20 furnace off 81.5 degrees</p>
<p class="Standard">…to handle the impending virus (bug?).</p>
<p class="Standard">If, on the other hand, you have deadlines, dependents, or other responsibilities that make life more difficult if/when you are absent, i.e.: you cannot afford the time off from your commitments/responsibilities/participation, then…the very instant that you hear that tickle in the back of your throat, stop what you are doing and listen to it! You still have time to fortify against it!! That’s really what the tickle is saying after all J</p>
<p class="Standard">Our bodies are incredible organic machines. We are living in the holy grail of robotics/computers…for real.</p>
<p class="Standard">…at least the design is.</p>
<p class="Standard">Decades, (maybe centuries?) of not listening to our bodies combined with not listening to our environments…</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">you get what you pay for</p>
<p class="Standard"> so let’s all decide to pay for</p>
<p class="Standard"> something that’s worth getting</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">…to our environments, have weakened, mutated, and sometimes destroyed some or many of the functions from the original design… have made our human vehicle less “perfect”.</p>
<p class="Standard"> For example: underarm deodorant</p>
<p class="Standard">Our bodies have sweat glands. They serve a dual purpose: not only do they help our organs release heat, (the fan that keeps your computer from overheating), but they also help our bodies release toxins, (that’s why it stinks – but only if you’re polluting your body).</p>
<p class="Standard">For decades we’ve been blocking the pores under our arms with deodorant that essentially clogs the pores (so you don’t stink).</p>
<p class="Standard">The gland is still carrying the toxins, trying to push them out the pores. Instead, more toxins are introduced and the gland must carry both loads somewhere else because there’s no way out here.</p>
<p class="Standard">…this may be a stretch but:</p>
<p class="Standard">the breast is awfully close to the underarm…think about it</p>
<p class="Standard">could there be a connection</p>
<p class="Standard">1:42 furnace on 65.1 degrees</p>
<p class="Standard">1:51 furnace off 80 degrees</p>
<p class="Standard"> …a connection between underarm deodorant</p>
<p class="Standard"> and breast cancer?</p>
<p class="Standard"> The manufacturers of the deodorant, of course, say no.</p>
<p class="Standard">I would imagine the scientists may also say no but they probably studied it in isolated experiments, not the whole body integrated suggestion I am making here.</p>
<p class="Standard">Like if you have no toxins in your body for your sweat glands to take out</p>
<p class="Standard">Or…? isolated</p>
<p class="Standard">1:51 stirring the fire – it’s beautiful today J</p>
<p class="Standard">…another stretch, maybe but</p>
<p class="Standard">eye make-up clogging tear ducts</p>
<p class="Standard">hair spray clogging hair follicles</p>
<p class="Standard">body lotion clogging skin pores</p>
<p class="Standard">nail polish clogging nail (cells)</p>
<p class="Standard">…? think about it: nails and hair grow to remove stuff from our bodies. Skin cells fall off and are replaced, our tear ducts, saliva glands, sweat glands, …all of these serve a vital function in the overall design of the vessel that carries us in this world (time, space).</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156962015-01-20T18:00:00-06:002021-08-02T18:37:41-05:00I Struck Oak!
<p class="Standard">7:57 J 1.9 degrees ooh. I still need to chop more wood tonight.</p>
<p class="Standard">10:13 .6 degrees here I go to chop leaving my fire roaring and laundry hanging…J</p>
<p class="Standard">11:48 furnace on -1.6 degrees out.</p>
<p class="Standard">my fire is so beautifully roasty toasty and oh so very happy with what I’m feeding it..in gratitude, the logs settle and help me find their best fit.</p>
<p class="Standard">I’d chopped enough elm for the morning but not very much of it for split elm like this burns real hot and real fast. It’s best when paired with oak as its complement: oak loves a hot elm to excite its deep flame, together they create a fire that neither can do on its own.</p>
<p class="Standard">I’m running low on my oak supply, just this big stump buried in snow. I was heading inside, “I’ve enough for right now and my fingers are numb”, when that oak caught my eye:</p>
<p class="Standard">it looked so solid, so strong, so hardy…el roble, the king.</p>
<p class="Standard">I bowed with respect and asked: How are you feeling tonight?</p>
<p class="Standard">You look so strong in the bright moonlight.</p>
<p class="Standard">I gently wiped the snow off its face, admiring with awe the circles and lines.</p>
<p class="Standard">I raised my ax high then brought it down straight</p>
<p class="Standard">First strike chopped off a piece of perfect size</p>
<p class="Standard">Second one too, then a</p>
<p class="Standard">Third, fourth and fifth</p>
<p class="Standard">Like chopping an apple</p>
<p class="Standard">…eh. I need to stop.</p>
<p class="Standard">I really just wanted to say it was amazing and incredible and molecule igniting. The moon in the sky with a wink in his eye filled with bright stars a crisp clear cold winter night is like magic, crystalline magic…my fingers were no longer cold – I was awake and alive and not the least bit freezing cold…I thanked all involved in this magical moment when this treasure was discovered…better than gold…(like when I discovered morel mountain last spring)…</p>
<p class="Standard"> I felt blessed, I felt rich</p>
<p class="Standard"> like I’d struck gold or oil</p>
<p class="Standard"> In fact, what would I do</p>
<p class="Standard"> with gold or with oil at that moment?</p>
<p class="Standard"> Can’t burn it; can’t eat it…</p>
<p class="Standard"> I’ll choose wood and morels</p>
<p class="Standard"> Over gold and oil, any day</p>
<p class="Standard">Wow. I really do need to stop.</p>
<p class="Standard">I’m sleepy and ready to crawl into bed. I’m so glad to have realized…and</p>
<p class="Standard">geeze – I can’t get the words to say what I want…</p>
<p class="Standard">When I feel uncomfortable, I remind myself gently: “I’m comfortable in my own skin…aha – I’m still in my skin!J”</p>
<p class="Standard">Okay, shut up now, Lani. Stir the fire and go to bed.</p>
<p class="Standard">Okay, I will.</p>
<p class="Standard">12:27 -0.9 degrees</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156952015-01-17T18:00:00-06:002020-01-16T17:12:18-06:00What Can Go Wrong When Felling an Elm
<p class="Standard">We saw raccoon footprints in the woods today:) and BIG canine prints as well :) (the coyote we’ve seen trotting up the creek bed and through the ravine is as big as a small German Shepard); all that’s left of the sacrificial squirrel is gray fur, like chalk dust painting the scene… But the elm wouldn’t come down. Now that’s a first for me to witness no doubt…what can go wrong when felling a tree à one thing is: when it doesn’t come down! Now it’s perched like a booby trap, no more than a thread holding on but high overhead, maybe 60 feet (?), the branches still cling, like a mountain climber’s fingertips on an upside down climb, to the neighboring oak…way up in the sky</p>
<p class="Standard">I figured: use the tractor and just give it a nudge. Oh no, said Dad, the bottom could kick out and flip the tractor on its back…</p>
<p class="Standard">Maggie and I got a chain from the barn and Dad wrapped it around the bottom part of the treacherous (precariously positioned) tree…but I’d grabbed the wrong chain – only one hook – so he could not attach it to the tractor…</p>
<p class="Standard">Maybe it’ll get windy. I swear, it seems all it’d take is the weight of a squirrel jumping around…</p>
<p class="Standard">Meanwhile, we’ll avoid that path in the woods :)</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156942014-12-18T18:00:00-06:002014-12-20T05:03:54-06:00Temporarily Immortal
<p><em>Temporarily Immortal</em> from the collection: <strong>Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly</strong></p>
<p><br>Temporarily immortal</p>
<p> Momentarily pregnant</p>
<p> With mystery and promise</p>
<p> Of magic just ahead</p>
<p> Fleeting hours roll on eternal</p>
<p> Disappearing time stretches out forever</p>
<p align="LEFT"> If you recall, we often forget </p>
<p align="LEFT"> To always drink slowly from the speed of light</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156842014-12-18T18:00:00-06:002014-12-20T05:04:12-06:00Until We Remember
<p lang="de-DE">I'm back inside now and feeling much better,</p>
<p lang="de-DE">Refreshed and awakened by the sound of the cold.</p>
<p lang="de-DE">I shoveled some snow; split some oak and choke cherry;</p>
<p lang="de-DE">Then hit my tall son 'tween shoulders quite squarely.</p>
<p lang="de-DE">A solid strike with a snowball that exploded in fluff </p>
<p lang="de-DE">Exposed a rosy cheeked grin and sparkling within.</p>
<p> </p>
<p lang="de-DE">To wield an ax, to split a log...</p>
<p lang="de-DE">Strength and knowledge to keep</p>
<p lang="de-DE">My family in warmth: the house I can heat.</p>
<p lang="de-DE">And this I must say, is an asset I'd rather</p>
<p lang="de-DE">Keep than to trade for another man's dollar...</p>
<p> </p>
<p lang="de-DE">The rush of self confidence, self worth and empowerment</p>
<p lang="de-DE">When "Crack!“ shouts the log, in response to my blow</p>
<p lang="de-DE">And willingly falls into pieces before me</p>
<p lang="de-DE">Accepting, even craving to join the wood fire </p>
<p lang="de-DE">That warms and gives comfort to my family inside</p>
<p> </p>
<p lang="de-DE">Here and now is worth more, I simply must say </p>
<p lang="de-DE">Way more than the dollar that I‘d have to pay </p>
<p lang="de-DE">Someone else to bring hither from a faraway fire</p>
<p lang="de-DE">To usurp and supplant this power of mine. </p>
<p> </p>
<p lang="de-DE">Our families to keep:</p>
<p lang="de-DE">The power of love</p>
<p lang="de-DE">Remains buried deep</p>
<p lang="de-DE">Within us it waits</p>
<p lang="de-DE">...until we remember.</p>
<p> </p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156872014-12-14T18:00:00-06:002014-12-20T05:04:40-06:00Political Pondering 2.
<p class="Textbody">I want to shop at a place that advertises: “Nothing is on sale. We price fairly.”</p>
<p class="Textbody">A friend exclaimed with a grin: “I bought a $90 coat for $45!”</p>
<p class="Textbody">So what makes it a $90 coat to begin with? Who decides? Maybe it’s actually a $45 coat.</p>
<p class="Textbody">…and the sale just preys on the psychology of consumerism.</p>
<p class="Textbody">I want to vote for the politician who promises: “I will raise taxes to fund social programs.” </p>
<p class="Textbody">I want to support the company that pays their employees a living wage because: “It’s our responsibility: it’s about more than just profit.”</p>
<p class="Textbody">…the company that recycles and does not pollute because: “It’s the right thing to do – we live on this planet too.”</p>
<p class="Textbody">Today too many companies only do the right thing when it benefits their profit margin or as damage control or to boost their image…increase sales. These are supposed to be side effects of doing the right thing in the first place. </p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156822014-12-14T18:00:00-06:002023-10-16T09:56:09-05:00My Movie, a first novel<p><br>author's note:This novel has a soundtrack.</p>
<p>The overall theme song for the story is <em style="font-size: small;">Home In The Woods</em> by Cory Chisel and the Wandering Sons. Each main setting where events unfold has its own theme song from the soundtrack; some events and main characters also have their own theme song. <br>The soundtrack is the timeline – the chronology of events</p>
<p>the theme song from the soundtrack for the first chapter is Riddles & Lies by Danny Schmidt <a data-imported="1" href="http://www.dannyschmidt.com" target="_blank" title="Danny Schmidt">www.dannyschmidt.com</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>"When the light hits me just right and brings a smile to your lips, t</em><em>ell me …and let me taste it." </em></p>
<p>Vivien would gaze out the windows…the doors…the skylights…ever hopeful, ever watchful for the slightest glimpse of Lancelot’s distinctive shape and coloring in the skies above. So many shadows would swoop into view and her eyes would hungrily follow the soaring movement, only to reveal an imposter or an illusion.</p>
<p>She’d found the wounded osprey in a top corner of the nursery/infirmary at her parents’ wildlife rehabilitation center. Somehow, he’d managed to find his way into the building and up into the rafters, 30 feet in the air, with a broken wing. He was scared and would allow no human within ten feet of his corner yet somehow he knew this was where he needed to be.</p>
<p>Vivien nimbly climbed up the rafters and across the beams she used to play on as a young girl. She tried to bring help <em>to him</em>. His eyes never let go their lock on her movement. And it was his eyes, with an almost imperceptible but unmistakable fire that warned her when she got too close. Vivien would have to wait: she’d have to earn his trust. She returned his gaze, her eyes fixed on his. She’d talk out loud to him. He was hurt: his wing lay listless at his side, somewhat off kilter, askew. But not just his wing, his fierce spirit seemed wounded as well.</p>
<p>Their relationship began cautiously; each had the power to harm the other. Vivien would spend hours watching and talking with this beautiful bird as he watched her. She was so captivated by his beauty – an osprey is a stunning creature. He was so regal, so athletic, so capably built and so wild. His eyes seemed to penetrate her completely: they were piercing and fierce yet never threatening. One might think some of the smaller animals in the nursery/infirmary would be in danger but Lancelot never seemed to look at anything but Vivien yet he seemed aware of everything.</p>
<p>Vivien felt a kind of connection with him. She was also lost, her spirit wounded, she just hadn’t recognized it yet. The choices she’d made, the path she’d led her family…”maybe I was wrong…” she thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Vivien’s parents, Nora and Stan bought the sanctuary soon after they wed.</p>
<p>They had decided early on in their courtship that the new life they would start together would be one with purpose. Both naturalists by hobby, not profession, they decided that they would live on and sustain their life with and from the land. They’d made a list of revenue generating ideas: Christmas trees, fruit trees, bees, etc. Wildlife sanctuary had not once entered the conversations.</p>
<p>After having shown them every tree farm, orchard and mill that was available within a 600 mile radius, (and they had rejected each one for a slightly different reason), the exasperated realtor arrived at her weekly meeting with Nora and Stan carrying a folder containing the description and photos of a 225 acre wildlife sanctuary whose owners were searching for a buyer with “a calling to protect and serve the abundance that nature simply provides”. The young dreamers looked at each other and repeated out loud: “with a calling to protect and serve the abundance…” They smiled. They <em>had </em>to go see this sanctuary; they <em>had</em> to meet these owners. </p>
<p>The land was young and heavily manicured: “more domesticated than what we were hoping for”, was Stan’s first response to the realtor. Nonetheless, as young lovers beginning their new life together, <em>potential</em> not <em>finished dream</em> is what they really sought, whether they knew it or not and this sanctuary was rich in potential. It didn’t leave their minds. They called the realtor. The deal was done and Nora and Stan moved in within 6 weeks of the initial tour. They passionately embraced their new roles as stewards of the land, caretakers of the wildlife and romantically dubbed the sanctuary <em>Avalon</em>.</p>
<p>Nora and Stan began immediately, removing fences and other unnatural barriers and inviting the <em>natural </em>sanctuary to return. They fed the young oaks, walnuts and maples. They connected the small ponds by digging out the old creek bed, and planted willows along the banks. They encouraged the prairie and woodland of this land’s past to return; they nourished the roots that remained and added fruit and evergreen saplings.</p>
<p>Vivien was born on the full moon during their third spring at <em>Avalon</em>, on the wave of a forceful storm, the kind that inspires discussion about updating the country’s warning systems and energy grids, survival stashes and basement safe zones.</p>
<p>The storm that chased Vivien’s birth caused the destruction of much of the woodland habitats in the area. The tiny islands, exposed and vulnerable in vast oceans of plowed fields were no more: erased in a moment by the force of the storm.</p>
<p>And yet, there the young family stood, in the middle of a 225 acre sanctuary, virtually unscathed.</p>
<p>Nora and Stan put out a call and invited the authorities to bring the rescued animals to <em>Avalon</em>. They would rehabilitate the survivors of the storm. Within weeks of Vivien’s birth, her world was teeming with habitats and enclosures separating raccoons, coyotes, deer, ducks, owls and rabbits. The very air was alive and moving: nothing was still.</p>
<p>And this is where Vivien and her two brothers grew up.</p>
<p> <img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/393039/5691bc982f49f90e9b863dd833f7a7c0d1e90e9b/original/resizedsnaplogo-300dpi-ssm-com-1.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjEyeDUwIl0%3D.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="50" width="212" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/393039/5691bc982f49f90e9b863dd833f7a7c0d1e90e9b/original/resizedsnaplogo-300dpi-ssm-com-1.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjIxeDUyIl0%3D.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="52" width="221" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/393039/5691bc982f49f90e9b863dd833f7a7c0d1e90e9b/original/resizedsnaplogo-300dpi-ssm-com-1.jpg/!!/b%3AWyJyZXNpemU6MjE2eDUxIl0%3D.jpg" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="51" width="216" /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>All three of Nora and Stan’s children moved away for college, choosing institutions in different states. Each had at some point, moved back near <em>Avalon</em> during their young adult lives but only Vivien remained; though she had not been very involved in the sanctuary since before college. She graduated with an English degree and had enjoyed many of her various teaching roles. The English language fascinated Vivien. When her mother suffered an illness a few years ago, she began helping out more and more on the land of her youth, working closely first with Nora and later with her father when her mother’s health worsened, leaving her virtually incapable of physical activity outside the home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For almost two years, almost every day, often more than once, Vivien traveled the 85 mile round trip from their home in the suburbs of Milwaukee out to <em style="font-size: small;">Avalon</em> and back again. It had taken almost two years but Vivien finally conceded and moved with her husband and three children out to the land of her youth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soon after, it became clear that in order for the rehabilitation center at <em style="font-size: small;">Avalon </em>to continue, Vivien was going to have to make a more full time, long term commitment. She did not submit her resume to be considered for a position the next school year and instead dove completely into the family land.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Vivien stepped in with a resigned determination to make <em style="font-size: small;">Avalon</em> safe, legally and financially speaking, long term. For almost forty years, Nora and Stan had kept the sanctuary alive and vital with their tireless passion for the animals and for the land. Vivien feared its vibrant role in the community would diminish in the future without the incredible dedication and passion of her parents.</p>
<p>…she decided that in order to solidify the value of <em>Avalon </em>in the community, the rehabilitation center should expand beyond raccoons, deer, coyotes and rabbits. Vivien felt that if they could add eagles, hawks and falcons to the list of animals they could help, more funding would be available and more community interest generated. The sanctuary needed more people, both physically <em>and</em> financially.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And now it’s today…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mom had always been resistant to the idea of bringing in large birds of prey. She said they would endanger the other animals…(even when I pointed out that the coyotes didn’t eat the deer, raccoons or ducks) she felt there was way too much red tape for the raptor rehabilitation licenses…Mom always preferred to fly just below the radar…or maybe that was Dad?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>…she also thought it was a “selling out” – the large birds of prey garner a lot more public interest – they’re sexy, dangerous, exotic (when compared to the common deer, coons and ducks) – splashy/flashy…like a museum bringing in a King Tut exhibit in order to attract the people and hope they may also notice the less flashy but equally important exhibits.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I knew this. I stood firm and made my case about preserving the legacy and its place in the community.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>My husband, Jason is an academic by nature and was only mildly enthusiastic about the sanctuary: “a place for poets to wander, not live” he was fond of saying. The idea of raptors, however, certainly intrigued him. He began reading everything ever written about raptor rescue, thrilled by the challenge of learning something new. We both volunteered at regional facilities: zoos, parks and arboretums; we took classes and attended lectures. Together, late at night, we studied the rules and regulations and procedures. Together, we applied for the required permits to add raptors to the animals we could accept at <em>Avalon</em>’s rehabilitation center. Together, we worried and speculated on the day the inspector was scheduled. And together, we popped the champagne and celebrated this new chapter after the anxious inspector, a rare smile on his face, shook our hands in congratulations and proclaimed: “With the authority vested in me by the state of Wisconsin, I now pronounce <em>Avalon</em> a wildlife rehabilitation center fully licensed and certified to accept hawks, falcons and eagles, in addition to owls, raccoons, coyotes and deer.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But not long after, we began drifting apart...</p>
<p> </p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156832014-12-13T18:00:00-06:002014-12-19T02:10:43-06:00JR Sullivan's Hometown Holiday 2014
<p>Impressions of J.R. Sullivan's Hometown Holiday, 2014 <br></p>
<p>...when the three heavenly voices of Megan McDonough, Holland Zander and Marcella Rose Sciotto, together as one rose up from behind Miles Nielsen's, adding a rich layer of sonic texture, I truly believed, deep in my soul, the words they presented: “War is over....if you want it”...I felt it deep and my knees went weak. Pure hope washed through me like a waterfall and for that one moment, I felt peace on earth.</p>
<p>...when Linda Abronski re-enacted a letter of complaint that began: “Dear Mr. Schnucks...” the vote on the floor was unanimous: yes, people in Rural Oaks eat too, the robust applause in the room confirmed.</p>
<p>Danny Sullivan and Jeff Christian kept the story moving at a steady clip, fueling the momentum engine with bucketfuls of humor.</p>
<p>Marcella paid homage to the diva in us all with beauty, grace (and humor) when she belted operatically, “what ever happened to my part?”...and we the audience, paid our dues to the fans of the divas: we clapped and cheered with reckless abandon.</p>
<p>Shawn Wallace painted a touching, hopeful landscape with his tender rendition of the Commodores' classic, “Love Will Find A Way”; Megan sang mournfully about lost love: “I remember ...butter” and Randy Sabien, golly what a renaissance man! The string instrument does not exist that he can't woo...he seduces the notes, like a siren: luring them out to weave his musical tapestries – stunning and spellbinding and warm yet rowdy like a holiday feast.</p>
<p>...and then we smile, for J.R. Sullivan has moved his stool to center stage – the cue that we've been waiting for: the time in the show has come where we will be taken to another time, a familiar place...</p>
<p>The piano softens, the lights on the set cool and settle, comfortably focused on Jim's handsome face, (stage lights like Jim's face); he looks out at us, a sparkle in his eyes. As the smile spreads and takes command of Jim's presence, we are embraced, like dear friends...and away he takes us on his “Polar Express”, woven with words carefully chosen, punctuated by his perfect timing and graceful, sincere delivery...we settle in for the journey...</p>
<p>When the clock said 7:03 Sunday night and the thermometer outside read 45 degrees, I struck the match and lit my fire, home cozies donned. Josh is heating the big pot of chili – yum. Everybody is home. J.R. Sullivan's 19<sup>th</sup> Hometown Holiday is done.</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156932014-11-23T18:00:00-06:002014-12-20T05:05:03-06:00My Children Are Home
<p><em>My Children Are Home</em> from the collection: Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly</p>
<p class="Standard"><br>Okay, it’s 5:15…and 24.9 degrees out…and blowin’ like a ship-tossing storm…out on the ocean…</p>
<p class="Standard">Kids are about to leave school…</p>
<p class="Standard">Wonder how long I’ll have to worry</p>
<p class="Standard">… Before I see their beautiful faces?</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">By 5:45, I’d talked face to face with them both…I’d heard both of them laugh...</p>
<p class="Standard">I stepped into my bedroom…</p>
<p class="Standard">Breathed in and breathed out</p>
<p class="Standard">…relaxed and undiscovered</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">…as soon as I heard they’d entered the car… I went outside…not to watch for but to shovel…</p>
<p class="Standard">To clear the path they would need…</p>
<p class="Standard">From the car to the door</p>
<p class="Standard">…where soon, home will bid them hello.</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">I saw the headlights… ran back inside…coat, hat and scarf hung in their places...</p>
<p class="Standard">Upon seeing their faces, I calmly said:</p>
<p class="Standard">“Oh good, you’re home.” JJJ</p>
<p class="Standard">Whew. They never suspected.</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">So at 6:16 and 24.0 degrees out, all is calm…and in the kitchen…</p>
<p class="Standard">The most amazing mashed potatoes wait patiently…</p>
<p class="Standard">And the meatloaf has entered the pre-heated oven…</p>
<p class="Standard">Openly greeted by a very warm welcome…</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">One part that is…maybe…not understood</p>
<p class="Standard">No matter the weather, no matter the distance,</p>
<p class="Standard">Until a mother’s babies are back under her wings,</p>
<p class="Standard">She really is not calm and complete</p>
<p class="Standard">…dangerous conditions just give her permission</p>
<p class="Standard">To tell you again and to say it out loud.</p>
<p class="Standard">So stay safe and keep her posted:</p>
<p class="Standard">Indulge her need to hear your voice;</p>
<p class="Standard">And always remember to</p>
<p class="Standard">…go slowly: you do know how</p>
<p class="Standard">She is waiting always</p>
<p class="Standard">…to hold you again.</p>
<p class="Standard"> </p>
<p class="Standard">8:11 now, 22.8 degrees…I don’t know anything else</p>
<p class="Standard">…that happened today.</p>
<p class="Standard">My children are home, with all that implies</p>
<p class="Standard">…and thank you, Honey for the best dinner EVER</p>
<p class="Standard">…always you give to us food fueled by love.</p>
<p class="Standard">I so don’t EVER want</p>
<p class="Standard">…this feeling EVER to go away</p>
<p class="Standard">Not never, no how!</p>
<p class="Standard">I’m holding this feeling way beyond just right now</p>
<p class="Standard">I’m keeping it always, inside with my heart. </p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156862014-11-04T18:00:00-06:002022-05-26T13:40:09-05:00Political Pondering 1.
<p class="Textbody">6:15 35 degrees out; 63 in</p>
<p class="Textbody">7:28 35 degrees out; 69 in</p>
<p class="Textbody">Well gee, the GOP sweeps the elections – so we get an out-of-touch millionaire as governor and a scare-tactic, police state, lock ‘em up or shoot ‘em sheriff to go after all those who might make some noise…</p>
<p class="Textbody">Shit. Why do voters keep expecting politicians to fix anything? They haven’t done squat in decades! If we can’t rise beyond money as our primary concern/focus, well I just don’t see any future for the human race – “civilization” – as we so fondly like to call it.</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156902014-10-29T19:00:00-05:002014-12-20T05:06:14-06:00Jada's Story 2
<p class="Textbody">Jada’s story is horrifying</p>
<p class="Textbody"> and deeper still is the terror I feel</p>
<p class="Textbody"> …as the mother of two boys.</p>
<p class="Textbody">Have I told them so?</p>
<p class="Textbody"> can they think and know?</p>
<p class="Textbody"> …could they possibly imagine?</p>
<p class="Textbody">In this world and in every other</p>
<p class="Textbody"> each life is valid and therefore must be</p>
<p class="Textbody"> valued, respected and treated thus</p>
<p class="Textbody">No one, not one form of life</p>
<p class="Textbody"> has worth that is any more than another</p>
<p class="Textbody"> we all need each other e-qu-al-ly.</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156892014-10-19T19:00:00-05:002014-12-20T05:06:48-06:00And Hilary...
<p class="Textbody">And Hilary, I’m sorry: I’m still upset about your message with this…</p>
<p class="Textbody">No, it was not an impeachable offense, our country’s security was not at risk …but you never said it wasn’t okay.</p>
<p class="Textbody">You had the window, the microphone and voice…</p>
<p class="Textbody">Instead you said, “he’s a man, what do you expect?”</p>
<p class="Textbody">You wanted his power to further your own so compromised our female integrity while all women watched on.</p>
<p class="Textbody">Sex is not power.</p>
<p class="Textbody"> Gender is.</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156882014-10-19T19:00:00-05:002014-12-20T04:11:14-06:00An Impassioned Plea - Jada's story
<p class="Textbody">An impassioned plea</p>
<p class="Textbody"> Mothers of sons (and sisters of brothers)</p>
<p class="Textbody">This rape culture cannot be changed by legislators! This is not about rules: this is about <em>humanity</em>.</p>
<p class="Textbody">Yes, it takes a village, the female voice of the village.</p>
<p class="Textbody">How in the hell can any son grow and not know that this is wrong?</p>
<p class="Textbody">Look your son in the eye, NOW! Tell him Jada’s story. No, better yet, have him find her story and tell you what happened. <br> Ask him to imagine a scenario where what these monsters did would be acceptable. Ask him to think of an excuse, to justify what they did. And tell him to look you in the eye when he’s talking.</p>
<p class="Textbody">If we ask our male “representatives” to “do something” about this …you already know where they will go: remember Anita Hill?</p>
<p class="Textbody">Shit. This is <em>our </em>responsibility.</p>
<p class="Textbody">It was my son who observed simply, (yet profoundly insightful): “I refuse to accept forgiveness under the condition that I must accept your rationale: I am a teenaged male so what do you expect? Damn it – expect more: I do!”</p>
<p class="Textbody">“This only perpetuates the rape culture”, he continued, “I as a <em>human</em> crossed the line;<em> I</em> made a mistake, no excuses à that is how I learn from my mistake: I admit I made the choice.<em> That</em> is how I learn where boundaries lie.”</p>
<p class="Textbody">Surrender is different from defeat. <br> Surrender unites; defeat divides.<br> With surrender a flame of hope is fanned. Conversations are begun. Time is spent re-igniting and reviewing ideas and approaches. Rest, rejuvenation and nourishment receive attention. Empowerment results.<br> With defeat, complacent sarcasm results. </p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156922014-09-17T19:00:00-05:002021-07-26T17:58:15-05:00September Symphony<p><em>September Symphony</em> from the collection <strong>Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly</strong></p>
<p>...coming up on the rise that skirts a hill called Molly...<br>the greens and browns and splashes of daisy in bursts...like cymbals crashing..<br>sky blue is the backdrop, white poofs here and there like piccolos and flutes...<br>the jays blast the trumpets while the grasshoppers drone on strings and the bullfrogs<br>enter low on bassoon...<br>yellowing grape leaves lounge with the sound of the cello and the blue spruce stands<br>erect to sound sharp like the snare drums<br>the piano carries the rich deep melody in the color of the golden rod, poured out to<br>cover the curved horizon... and is accented by the brighter sound of the harp in the<br>Jerusalem artichoke's yellow<br>...and the butterfly dances the hush that blankets the audience.<br>purple clover trombones and red Virginia creeper clarinets<br>the fairy green asparagus on triangle flirts with the now dark brown Queen Anne's<br>lace on tuba and bass<br>white mushroom puffs and shapes on timpani and kettle drum<br>and the grey noise for me now is the machines in the quarry and the ever rushing<br>cars on the roads...like the air conditioner fan in the room at the concert </p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156912014-09-09T19:00:00-05:002014-12-20T05:08:11-06:00Chill from a Soccer hill
<p><em>Chill from a Soccer Hill</em> from the collection: <strong>Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly</strong></p>
<p></p>
<p>…it was 5:13 when I’d found my perch<br> Up on the slant of the tall windy hill<br> I’ve just got to say it; it’s just got to be said:<br> Today is my favorite, most favoritist day every time,</p>
<p></p>
<p>When soccer invites me out under the sky</p>
<p></p>
<p>…at 5:36 the halftime whistle split the air – two times is the code –</p>
<p></p>
<p> Grab some water!</p>
<p></p>
<p> Shake your legs!</p>
<p></p>
<p> You get only nine extra nods!</p>
<p></p>
<p> So breathe deep and exhale</p>
<p></p>
<p> Take a sip and a glance</p>
<p></p>
<p> Find your mom at the side</p>
<p></p>
<p> Check your laces and mates</p>
<p></p>
<p> Back up on your feet now!</p>
<p></p>
<p> Back out on the field!</p>
<p></p>
<p> What a rush, what a ride – what amazing athletes!</p>
<p></p>
<p>…and at 6:19, the final whistle pierces with sharp finality</p>
<p></p>
<p>Whew – it’s a chilly wind a blowin’!!</p>
<p></p>
<p>I’ve lit a fire: inside is now 73.7 degrees…</p>
<p></p>
<p>It takes a minute to un-numb from the chill of a soccer wind J</p>
<p></p>
<p>As I warmed from inside: parental pride as the fuel, so efficient, so complete</p>
<p></p>
<p>I chopped a log and cleaned the ashes and built a beautiful wood fire</p>
<p></p>
<p>Bucket of kindling beside, box of split wood behind...</p>
<p></p>
<p>Listen to the wind as it’s howling</p>
<p></p>
<p>…and hear Janis Joplin</p>
<p></p>
<p>She’s singing about freedom; she’s singing about us</p>
<p></p>
<p>Swirling and churning in a beautiful frenzy:</p>
<p></p>
<p>Not frenetic or fanatic but energetic and fierce;</p>
<p></p>
<p>Neither threatening nor menacing but thrilling and cozy…</p>
<p></p>
<p>Dinner’s done. Dishes are done. Bed is calling. The temperature keeps falling.</p>
<p></p>
<p>Goodnight September chill</p>
<p></p>
<p>Goodnight last days of summer </p>
<p></p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156852014-09-03T19:00:00-05:002014-12-19T03:53:41-06:00Today Within the Pine Cathedral
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p> A chime did sound up high</p>
<p> Three butterflies danced, hopping from thistle to sky</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>Pure yellow, as big as my hand, like fairies they prance</p>
<p>Pure purple, as tall as a bear, like conductors they direct</p>
<p>Leaning gently, holding firmly, together they do climb</p>
<p>Swirling higher, posing nobly, together to ring the chime</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral…</p>
<p> Dry boughs up high rattled rapidly</p>
<p> Dead brambles down low cracked dramatically</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>The sounds they reach me as just one voice</p>
<p>A black bear? No. …maybe an owl?</p>
<p>Yet neither one is there</p>
<p>Just Maggie and the squirrels</p>
<p>Playing make-believe with me</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral…</p>
<p> Round breast feather fluffs chestnut red dipped in white</p>
<p> Narrow wing feather lengths a non-descript kind of grey</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>Some with a hint of white dip at the tip</p>
<p>Some a suggestion of chestnut at the base</p>
<p>A splash of white splattered at the scene</p>
<p>Like a sloppy painter. “Kind of owl-like”, I muse</p>
<p>Then tilt my gaze upward, lips tightly fused</p>
<p>All that remains of the hollow boned thrush</p>
<p>Is feathers and fluff and some rare bits of flesh</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral…</p>
<p> I heard a bird I’d never seen</p>
<p> “Chicka chicka” (I think) sang he</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>“Ding” rings the bell deep beneath from the quarry</p>
<p>Then imagine “chirp! cheep! chirp!”</p>
<p>Sped a thousand times faster</p>
<p>The crickets, grasshoppers, cicadae and frogs</p>
<p>A rumpus, a parade, a million creature chorus.</p>
<p>Hear the wind groom the trees in the sky overhead</p>
<p>Feel the fallen leaves feed the earth underneath</p>
<p>Smell the soft moss cleanse the path maternally</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral…</p>
<p> A spot of white caught my sight</p>
<p> Hungry eyes looked hard to focus the light</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>Longing for a glimpse of the invisible owl</p>
<p>Straining and imagining my mind does peer</p>
<p>Swiftly then, seamlessly, the illusion is no more</p>
<p>A patch of sky through the trees is waving gently back at me</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral…</p>
<p> I called on the chief for his counsel</p>
<p> He calmed me down, he always does</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>With perspectives again eagerly embraced, I watch</p>
<p>Maggie bounds enthusiastically in pursuit and in play</p>
<p>With the munks in the stumps and the wood in the way</p>
<p>The wind tugs at my hair till the clasp just gives up</p>
<p>The ocean roar in my ears is deafening my soul</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p> I heard nothing: an omnipotent silence</p>
<p> Punctuated by sunlight screaming to touch me</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>I reach for it, trying to smell it, straining to taste it…yearning to hear it</p>
<p>The warmth eases my heart but refuses to uncage me</p>
<p>I collapse in submission and weep thoroughly</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral…</p>
<p> I heard a truck rumble over the hill and away</p>
<p> Mosquitos drank heartily from my forehead and arm</p>
<p>…today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
<p>A smiley face right before me does appear</p>
<p>All is as it should be with balance and in place</p>
<p>My heart fills full and my cup runneth over</p>
<p>When my two sons smile sunshine and daisies at me</p>
<p>Today within the Pine Cathedral</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156752012-01-22T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T18:00:25-05:00Writing in the Jury Selection Room<p>January 23, 2012</p>
<p>Last night I crawled in to bed warm.</p>
<p>The room thermometer read 70 degrees. It was so nice. I can’t even really describe how nice it was. And this morning I woke up and got out of bed warm. The room thermometer read 64 degrees. I cannot express how nice that was.</p>
<p>Whenever I tell people about living in this house, (I call it Dad’s engineering coup d’etat), I excitedly say that it’s working; it’s chilly but it’s working. I say it’s 55 to 60 degrees at night. Every single person, it seems, has replied with the same: that’s about what we keep our furnace at during the night too.</p>
<p><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Xdk6dUqNKBM/T0vX8CBQVXI/AAAAAAAACvY/kvofKt2G26c/s800/P2240025.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="SNOW" height="600" width="800" /></p>
<p>Wow. I just nod and smile. Right. Turning the furnace down to 60 degrees at night while you sleep and turning it back up when you wake really is not the same as stoking the fire as best as you can to keep the temperature from falling below 50 degrees before you wake to stoke the fires up again and to wake throughout the night adding wood on the really cold nights. It really just does not compare.</p>
<p>Nor does any other house compare to the magic of living in an engineering coup d’etat. We are off grid. Our refrigerator, stove, water heater and washer/dryer, (yay – we have a washer/dryer! I’ve been doing laundry at the Laundromat since last June. Finally, last Sunday January 15, I stayed home on laundry day – beautiful.), are all propane fueled. The electricity is…batteries.</p>
<p>At the moment, we do have a line running to the box at Henry’s cabin that is connected to Mom & Dad’s…so we’re not completely off grid but that’s just because there are some pieces of the plan that have either not yet arrived or not yet been installed.</p>
<p>When weather tells you to stop noodling – it’s time to move out of the camper/trailer and into the house- well, you really just have to listen. So we did. We moved out of the camper/trailer just after Thanksgiving and have been quite fortunate so far in being served a pretty mild winter.</p>
<p>We did not have a woodshed full of wood before the first snow could have covered all the wood that was lying on the forest floor. Instead, we were able to get a few good weekends gathering and chain sawing…an absolutely beautiful and wonderful thing for me as a mother to witness: our 14 year old son, Duncan driving the tractor to dump the wood at our house and return to the forest where my dad is teaching our 11 year old son, Connor to use the chainsaw.</p>
<p>Wow. I’m really excited about who they are – our boys. There is nothing in any book or classroom anywhere that could compare to living this – experiencing this. We watch a pack of coyotes across the pond as they watch us. We see the stars through the skylight, (unless a recent snow has covered them). We snuggle closer when it’s cold. We are living – living every single minute to its fullest potential. We are not treading water. Nope. We have jumped into the lake of life with our lungs full to capacity. Wow. Yes – it is a whole lot of work and comes with unexpected challenges and obstacles – but together we four are living, living, living. We laugh, we play, we dance, we sing. And then we stir the fires! And put band-aides on our nicks, bruises and burns.</p>
<p><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-O-1Jj8X2v4A/T0vX0luoTOI/AAAAAAAACtg/C28jqOHe2mk/s640/P2210010.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="plants inside" height="480" width="640" /></p>
<p>I have also taken this same challenge on with Charlotte’s Web. With a brand new board, in honor of the 40th Anniversary Season, we jumped into the lake of life – and filled our lungs. We are not treading water, keeping our heads barely above water. Nope – that’s not the path we chose. We plunged right in – a sink or swim kind of approach. I’ve written lots about this and put lots of words to it already. I have faith in the Web – and in the web that supports it too. If the community is unwilling or unable to offer financial support – to the tune of about $5000 per season – then I’d say that 40 years was a damn good run. The music will continue – of this I have no doubt. I cannot live without it. House concerts and more…the music will continue…</p>
<p>And then there’s Snapshotmusic…</p>
<p>Yep, I went and dove into the lake here too - plunged right in with my husband, my partner, (who is right beside me on all three of these dives). My faith is our floatation device at this point. We are not sinking nor are we treading water- nope: we are swimming the butterfly stroke – the most powerful and exhausting stroke there is. It’s a whole lot of work for not a whole lot of speed. I’m not sure how long we can keep it up.</p>
<p>To attack on all three of these fronts at the same time may not have been the wisest decision I’ve ever made but I certainly could not have a better team: my family.</p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156772012-01-21T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T18:01:07-05:00Timber!<p>Sunday January 22, 2012</p>
<p>9:30 AM 55 degrees – time to get out of bed.</p>
<p>10:45PM 70 degrees - time to get into bed.</p>
<p>The laundry is still washing…Duncan will put the clothes in the dryer for me…</p>
<p>Wood – all day – laundry in between, Duncan to Target at night for a sketch pad and binder, (he starts art tomorrow), and some candy tooJ. The driver’s side wiper quit on our way home. It just stopped. No slowing down or anything, it just stopped and the passenger side kept wiping…?</p>
<p>Wood: a fulfilling job; a satisfying thing to do all day. It sure does wipe us out though.Josh and Dad chain sawed pices that were too long from the big elm we felled back on January 15. I carried it all down – armful after armful, after armful, after armful – and stacked it – according to size and cut. This is good therapy for my obsessive compulsive disorder, (OCD), because it’s repetitious and finite and accomplishable and…it makes it so much easier when it comes time to choose the right wood for the right fire tooJ. Josh split a whole bunch too – mostly short logs for the upstairs fire. That’s okay though because I can use the full logs for the downstairs fire. In the end, the woodshed is mostly full: two stacks of split wood; one is of really short logs like four inches long and the other is longer and thin so it still fits upstairs; and four stacks of not split – whole logs: one really skinny – branches about two inches in diameter, one is of medium thickness, still small enough for the upstairs fire; and two are stacks of big logs for the downstairs fire – about eight to fourteen inches in diameter. I also stacked six pillars of logs that will need to be split. Nice. See what I mean about OCD therapy: it must be this way and I am exact but it harms no one and it makes me feel good and in the end, I am satisfied with a job well doneJ.</p>
<p>Josh made dinner: delicious and all of it, not just the meat, on his own with no help from me. He baked the potatoes and steamed the broccoli too – cool.</p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156762012-01-20T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T18:01:51-05:00A quick thought<p>January 21, 2012</p>
<p>Up at 8:30 AM – 55 degrees</p>
<p>Let’s get those fires going!</p>
<p>Okay…a full hour later and now I feel like the fires are going well enough that I can take a minute to send some emails…It’s 61 degrees. The propane heater is going too. And my computer is telling me that I missed a scan…oh okay: run the scan.</p>
<p>It sure is nice to have the sun streaming through the windows. It’s a magic place here really. It’s just a full time job. Sure it’s fun and challenging but…we already have a couple of full time jobs – each – and we’ve had to neglect them for about six months now. They will fail if this keeps up.</p>
<p>11:40 AM 64 degrees</p>
<p>Now I need to get myself ready and scoot too. Josh left about an hour ago to meet Vince at Emerson. He needed to gether some more music from the archives for his radio show – Charlotte’s Web: Live from the Archives on Rockford College Radio every Monday evening at 7pm and replayed on Thursday mornings at 9, cool.</p>
<p>12:01 PM – yikes – I best get out of here – April Verch is tonight!</p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156782012-01-04T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T18:03:47-05:00Inner-Connectedness<p>Inner Connectedness…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yesterday I heard an interview on NPR with the founder of Smith Magazine about a new anthology he’s edited/released: a collection of stories inspired by the prompt: A Life Changing Moment. I was fascinated and as the editor noted, “there’s no other question to ask than: so what’s <em>your</em> life changing moment?”</p>
<p>I didn’t have to think very long for a story to jump up to be counted. I’ve told the story briefly before but it wasn’t until prompted that I really began to see it for what it was: a life changing moment…</p>
<p>When I was about 5 years old, the coffeehouse my parents helped start, Charlotte’s Web, was 3. One night, my sister, Jenny and I were there with Grandma Laraby to listen to Bryan Bowers. The stage was still downstairs; the seats were cut telephone poles with a board nailed in place to act as a back and a 2 inch thick cushion stapled on the seat for comfort, (comfortable for a 5 year old bottom), and I don’t think there was a liquor license yet. New American Theater was still calling upstairs their home.</p>
<p>It was a wonderful concert, I am sure, but the life changing moment for me came when Bryan invited the packed house to join hands and sing with him. The song he was singing was “May The Circle Be Unbroken” and our linked hands wove around and between and behind and <em>everyone</em> was holding someone’s hand. Our voices were one; our hearts were one; we were one. It was overwhelming. I felt as though my feet were no longer touching the ground: I was soaring, not just me: we were one and we were soaring.</p>
<p>The feeling was incredible: like how people describe the feeling of seeing god. Well, that night when I was 5, I felt god in the music. It was only the first of countless times since. Bryan Bowers has continued to be a regularly featured artist on the Web stage for about 4 decades. His stories and his songs have always had the power to remind me of the inner connectedness of the universe, which includes me.</p>
<p>It wasn’t until much later that I realized that this was just one facet of the power of music. Live music has the power to unite and, if only for that moment, the power to expose the inner connectedness, the webs that connect us all to each other and to our environment and even the cosmos. We are all one. Peace through music.</p>
<p>"When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace." - Jimi Hendrix</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156742011-06-03T19:00:00-05:002020-01-16T17:12:09-06:00Emerson House move-in
<p>Saturday June 4, 2011<br>Now it's 4:26. I'm actually sitting at my new desk in my new office on the 2nd floor of the Emerson House with my book open in front of me. I'm sitting on a chair that isn't my actual desk chair and I'm taking advantage of the daylight coming through the large windows – I don't actually have any lamps yet.<br>We're still learning the electric potential and limitations of this gorgeous space – when it was built, the need for power to run the things we need today was not an issue. So, as with any renovated building, outlets are added and electric fuse boxes updated. Sometimes an outlet works and sometimes it doesn't. Hmmm...<br>The iPod is connected and tunes are filling the spaces between the boxes and chairs. Our boys are noodling about. We probably have about 10 to 15 minutes remaining on their patience meters.<br>After doing the hard part – picking up my huge and beautiful desk and 3 sturdy work tables for the analogue equipment – from Salvage Too and getting all up to the 2nd floor with the freight elevator, (a mechanical beast that is fantastic but requires a tall, strong person to work it), we left Josh to plug things in and Duncan, Connor and I went down the street to Subway to pick up some lunch/dinner. We returned and all 4 of us sat around my huge and beautiful desk to replace the calories we'd just burned. Ahhh, I think I was in heaven, even if only for a moment, I can envision it more and more now.<br>Let me just say another thing about the elevators at Emerson House. There is one that is powered. It is one of the old fashioned types that has a cage like door that must be closed from the inside in order for the elevator motor to work and it just barely fits one cart and one person. It clunks loudly, as if agitated by being asked to work, pauses and then clunks some more as the cobs and gears engage and carry the little box up to the 2nd floor. And then there is the freight elevator. Wow, this is one darned impressive piece of mechanical engineering. It's very large: we put our not disassembled futon couch in and had room to fit a second one, (had we brought it), as well as some chairs and boxes and there was still room to spare. Nonetheless, I do not recommend filling this elevator as full as the space allows because it's human powered. I've learned that the best way to get this freight elevator to the 2nd floor is to have not one but two tall, strong people, preferably a pair macho enough to need to challenge eachother. My amazing and remarkable husband not only qualifies as tall and strong, but also has proven himself worthy for the freight elevator challenge; however, he would gladly yield to the younger challenger with more to prove. </p>
<p><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QCobXskNXOI/TerZzU98-MI/AAAAAAAAB4w/9HuhDdpxUG8/s144/P6040001.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xJNo6Kit1bA/TerZ0XpqK0I/AAAAAAAAB40/Y2STWc75u0A/s144/P6040002.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IfV7GYho22E/TerZ1b7fIyI/AAAAAAAAB44/SvxCV5JOE_c/s144/P6040003.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-fHH7rmoIRdI/TerZ2ZMB9tI/AAAAAAAAB48/Wy9mpv_UU94/s144/P6040004.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-BEQRZjEdNYA/TerZ3fvYMqI/AAAAAAAAB5A/Lf5a4-g-448/s144/P6040005.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-UYUSY-hn7bg/TerZ4AiJg-I/AAAAAAAAB5E/yfAQgn8LOrs/s144/P6040006.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-IxsqAZm73g4/TerZ5bwEgTI/AAAAAAAAB5I/siaIEfnccwI/s144/P6040008.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-XlX_jirllMQ/TerZ6eL-udI/AAAAAAAAB5M/gIT3TsqiLLs/s144/P6040009.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-fcGBu8R6CYI/TerZ7RHyM-I/AAAAAAAAB6c/4WoEt7hDlhM/s144/P6040010.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="144" width="108" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QyNVOxtxKQM/TerZ9I49p-I/AAAAAAAAB5Y/p62qaBAko7Y/s144/P6040012.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-CoOX2N2r800/TerZ_H_x1SI/AAAAAAAAB6w/2Usm53NNHQs/s144/P6040014.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ptyYNqeOev8/TerZ_xHJEZI/AAAAAAAAB60/ey6ZmuX2HeA/s144/P6040015.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-tyVNIg0An0E/TeraA2OM4yI/AAAAAAAAB5o/R4Ic76xppik/s144/P6040016.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--KSawp3j-0Y/TeraB3edhaI/AAAAAAAAB5s/bEi4z6dYtyw/s144/P6040017.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-z37DMJNxzwQ/TeraD6CGfXI/AAAAAAAAB68/qCmLRFdoLeA/s144/P6040019.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-wFrkrdf7IBI/TeraE7ql3JI/AAAAAAAAB7E/4GPCIoZUK8k/s144/P6040020.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-svK6eChZm8g/TeraGsc1QmI/AAAAAAAAB7M/19w-T2YY7g8/s144/P6040022.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="108" width="144" /><img src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-WsZmiPzJ-Gk/TeraJD9ZG2I/AAAAAAAAB7Y/4opJGg3YFKY/s144/P6040025.JPG" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="Emerson" height="144" width="108" /> Your photo could be HERE!</p>
Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156732011-05-18T19:00:00-05:002021-07-26T18:05:46-05:00Weekend Thoughts<p>Wow – I finally found a corner with enough light to write. I just relieved Sonya at the Windsor Elementary Pajama Jam → an actual dance → in the hollow gym/cafeteria with the latest pop beats blaring,: distorted with indistinguishable song tracks and undecipherable lyrics. As the rhythms shoot out of speakers to ricochet between ceiling, floor and enclosing walls and stampede through the corridors, I feel short of breath as the screaming beat box captures my heartbeat: resistance is futile.<br>My eyes are still fuzzy from the recent dual volcanic eruptions: the smoke trails circling. The fire is gone but the smoke lingers...the same could be said about other recent events → something about the finality of the June 20 deadline to vacate the premises: our home at 306 Theodore Street. The feeling seems similar to waking up in your tent in a field soggy and cold with dew; emerging into a world with smoke drifting from the remains of smoldering campfires scattered evidence of a delightful weekend spent with music and friends at a festival under the stars...as the sun illuminates and the reality beckons → it's time to pack up...it's Monday tomorrow...but not until tomorrow: today we will prepare...Monday will catch us neither unsuspecting nor unwilling. Monday will find us not only refreshed but also recharged. Yes Monday will find us happy to greet her. Perhaps we will find Monday even before she seeks us.<br>I had to pause and watch Connor group dance Thriller. Smiles fill me. Now they're all singing: “Oh, oh, oh it's magic! Never believe it's not so”. And the DJ is our neighbor. I will miss our neighborhood.<br>What is the meaning of life? =<br> Why do I do what I do? =<br> Peace through music.<br>It is a rare moment alone here on a rainy gray Saturday after a parental pride filled morning at soccer. Carrie Elkin: it is finally turned up to its peak intensity. My molecules stretch and reach and space opens inside my chest to ease the knots...ah...and oh my, the lilacs...<br>And now Danny Schmidt.<br>One of the most rewarding and amazing facets of my life is knowing the fascinating artists: humans with real relationships and real joy and real sorrow and real life and the artist reveals this reality in its naked vulnerability: truth → an interpretive word, a flexible and by necessity, transient concept → one that must flow to ensure its integrity, must react to real hope, to real life.<br>To sing and dance and ponder the magic woven in this relationship between these two beautiful humans, Carrie and Danny, shines the light on the magic woven in my relationships and in all relationships.<br> Peace through music.<br>The stories behind the songs: they are our stories too. They plead for personal, individual, flexible, inner interpretation. All they ask is for the freedom to roam – to shift and change to fit the place where understanding waits.<br>I believe music does this for us all: it shines light on the magic of life. I also believe different music speaks to different people. It remains very important to me that Charlotte's Web present top caliber artists of many genres. The doors that music can open are opened for me by the singer-songwriter; for others it's jazz and still others, blues. For some it's reggae and others it's guitar. To be present and bear witness when doors are opened by music is my raison d'être and my joie de vivre.<br>I believe helping others open doors makes me a better human because it makes my community a better place which makes me a better mom and wife and daughter and neighbor: I add to the world and the world adds to me.<br>And now Ellis, who awakens my wonder and reminds me to be.<br>I'm spending the afternoon at peace through music, contentedly attending to laundry and dishes and general family/home maintenance.<br>My husband is filming the Rockford Dance Company school performances of “Oh, the Places You'll Go” on the very stage where the announcement was made that there had been an accident...that fateful early spring evening in 1972 when the audience at Boylan High School was told that the show was cancelled and the name Charlotte's Web was chosen. It represented the web we depend on to catch us when we fall. The grief that united those who knew Charlotte Powers was soothed with music; it was opened and released so the healing could go on. And the music wove the Web strong to catch us and help us climb.<br> Peace through music. </p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156792011-03-04T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T18:06:56-05:00Afterburn<p>Afterburn…that’s what I’m calling it…</p>
<p>I see the dream so clearly at this moment and the world makes sense. Energized and alive, feeling that I know what to do to ignite the remaining fuel for a rocket boost</p>
<p>The music of Danny Schmidt does something…I see open doors and windows, tunnels and pathways; I feel connections and synchronicities, harmonies and truths;</p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156812010-12-31T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T18:08:44-05:00My book 1-1-11 till 3-22-11<p>Have you ever chosen a font to support the thoughts you’d like to express?</p>
<p>My first attempt at this here and now…I think this is the font I’m thinking in today…</p>
<p>This afternoon is a bright and sunny crisp, end of winter cool, beginning of spring warm, relaxed in nature Saturday afternoon.</p>
<p>I just received the description of the CGT guitar clinic from Paul Richards as I sit comfortably in the deep connection of the universe - in my reflection of last night’s concert featuring Danny Schmidt. Danny Schmidt is an artist in whose music I see the fibers that make up the fabric of life, I see the veins through which heart energy flows – I see the essential symbiosis of all…wow. I feel at one with, not separate from…</p>
<p>I first heard Danny Schmidt at the formal showcase at NERFA, (Northeast Region Folk Alliance conference), in November of 2006.</p>
<p>Next weekend Charlotte’s Web is presenting David Mallett and, (thanks to a grant from the Rockford Area Arts Council), a sign language interpreter will be signing the songs that David sings. (I also just learned that David’s son Will is joining him on this tour: what a bonus!)</p>
<p>This will be the culmination of an idea first planted in me at NERFA in November of 2006 where I was mesmerized by interpreters from Falcon Ridge Folk Festival who shared the formal showcase stage with every musician.</p>
<p>Last weekend featured Eclectica, an amazing band of artists I first experienced at Folk Alliance International conference in Memphis in February of 2009.</p>
<p>Before that, Ellis, NERFA 2007 and this summer, Treasa LeVasseur, FAI, Memphis 2009.</p>
<p>Thank you Folk Alliance and all you are!!!!!</p>
<p>Wow, I just stepped outside and was witness to a flock of whistling swans dancing north 1000+ feet up in the blue, conversing in their high-pitch raccoon purr like call. Remarkable.</p>
<p>Life sure is a beautiful place to be when I pause and take notice. For this, I thank the music: the artists and their muses.</p>
<p>Somehow, I’ve not found time to keep up with my blog. Today I feel like attempting a catch-up session. I will practice brevity…</p>
<p>First, I must make a fresh pot of coffee – organic, shade grown, fair trade Guatemalan from JustGoods, of course</p>
<p>Cheers! Lani.</p>
<p>Peace through music.</p>
<p>“The trick is to combine your waking rational abilities with the infinite possibilities of your dreams; because, if you can do that, you can do anything.” - Unknown</p>
<p> </p>Snapshotmusictag:snapshotmusic.com,2005:Post/61156802010-02-28T18:00:00-06:002021-07-26T18:09:54-05:00Just Thinking...<p>Have you ever chosen a font to support the thoughts you’d like to express?</p>
<p>My first attempt at this here and now…I think this is the font I’m thinking in today…</p>
<p>This afternoon is a bright and sunny crisp, end of winter cool, beginning of spring warm, relaxed in nature Saturday afternoon.</p>
<p>I just received the description of the CGT guitar clinic from Paul Richards as I sit comfortably in the deep connection of the universe - in my reflection of last night’s concert featuring Danny Schmidt. Danny Schmidt is an artist in whose music I see the fibers that make up the fabric of life, I see the veins through which heart energy flows – I see the essential symbiosis of all…wow. I feel at one with, not separate from…</p>
<p>I first heard Danny Schmidt at the formal showcase at NERFA, (Northeast Region Folk Alliance conference), in November of 2006.</p>
<p>Next weekend Charlotte’s Web is presenting David Mallett and, (thanks to a grant from the Rockford Area Arts Council), a sign language interpreter will be signing the songs that David sings. (I also just learned that David’s son Will is joining him on this tour: what a bonus!)</p>
<p>This will be the culmination of an idea first planted in me at NERFA in November of 2006 where I was mesmerized by interpreters from Falcon Ridge Folk Festival who shared the formal showcase stage with every musician.</p>
<p>Last weekend featured Eclectica, an amazing band of artists I first experienced at Folk Alliance International conference in Memphis in February of 2009.</p>
<p>Before that, Ellis, NERFA 2007 and this summer, Treasa LeVasseur, FAI, Memphis 2009.</p>
<p>Thank you Folk Alliance and all you are!!!!!</p>
<p>Wow, I just stepped outside and was witness to a flock of whistling swans dancing north 1000+ feet up in the blue, conversing in their high-pitch raccoon purr like call. Remarkable.</p>
<p>Life sure is a beautiful place to be when I pause and take notice. For this, I thank the music: the artists and their muses.</p>
<p>Somehow, I’ve not found time to keep up with my blog. Today I feel like attempting a catch-up session. I will practice brevity…</p>
<p>First, I must make a fresh pot of coffee – organic, shade grown, fair trade Guatemalan from JustGoods, of course</p>
<p>Cheers! Lani.</p>
<p>Peace through music.</p>
<p>“The trick is to combine your waking rational abilities with the infinite possibilities of your dreams; because, if you can do that, you can do anything.” - Unknown</p>
<p> </p>Snapshotmusic