Tinsel, trees, & trash-bins a Ho-Ho-Holiday romp Well the season is upon us, on top of us, dining at our table nearly uninvited and yes-- most folks would do anything to slip out from under the gooses axe right about now. Time as it would seem is running out! The economy is in ruin, Rick Perry is a powerful rich guy and The Mayan calendar begins in mere weeks to tick-tock tick-tock! Not to mention no one has a clue how to act around their own mother, sister, old friend or dreaded ex. Let's be fair though, there is polio vaccine, indoor plumbing and if you are reading this, chances are you ate something today and were provided shelter with wi-fi to boot.
ahh but stress is as stress does. We must enthusiastically wash it, dry it, and comb into a managable and presentable shape, for now, for mom. (and don't mention the tattoo!) In truth, since I live on the other side of the planet , I have much less to worry about than I used to. It's pretty nice really, I have happily avoided the notion of social obligation and in my adult life I have taken up the practice of celebrating Solstice instead. It's not just for the sake of convienience though, ...it's my truth. This Truth bam-bam-banged on the door incessantly for a number of years before I answered it. For me, the "knock-knock" "who's there?" was the "er,..hello, it's me the Law of the land". Not our land, or any land that man can claim , name and spray with Monsanto's Round-up ready- but the true wild land, and the nothing-but-noble voice of it's residents; trees, plants, birds and rare beasts. Much like Santa- the real magic of these spaces resides within us, without us and responds to us positvely when we are good. If you need any evidence that the world is a cooky misguided place, look no further than the dumpster bins lining every street in every state in suburbia shortly after the big bang of new years. Who can walk by these swollen overfilled crates of memories with half dead young fir trees that never had a chance- and NOT heave a perplexed sigh? What a way to celebrate the birth of the christ-child, but by killing a tree-child... what a way indeed. so Bah- humbug to that. There I said it. The "rudolf ralph" (as I like to call it) or the christmas binge, and tinsel purge is a very real and tragic metaphor for the way modern life has gone. Our need to bring nature to us, and our lack of ability to respectfully go into it with wonder, light and love is alarming at best, and a failure to make good on our promise to maintain the earth's creature's at worst. When I was 17 I first had the pleasure of listening to Dar Williams, and later saw her live at my college campus. Enchanted by her non-pretentiousness and sweet simplicity, storytelling and wit, i went to get my CD signed. For a brief moment, I saw a piece of my future self in her, and and remember thinking, 'now there's a gal after my own heart!'. She gave me the strength to be more me than I was willing to let others see. She gave me hope that strength doesn't always dress to kill, and sometimes has a flower in it's hair. At the time I was embarking upon a life in the big apple, New York, abandoning my normal west-coast thrift store attire for a "chic" pleather jacket, tall black boots and facial expression to match. I'm not sure that I ever pulled it off. Now that I'm in my 30's I wear what I like, and I like what I wear. Of course I'll still try anything once- be it instrument, color, food, look, sitting nook or pair of sunglasses... magic is in the learning. Ms Williams wrote the "Christians and the Pagans" about a holiday misadventure with her family. Here are the words of this disarming piece: Amber called her uncle, said "We're up here for the holiday
Jane and I were having Solstice, now we need a place to stay" And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three He told his niece, "It's Christmas eve, I know our life is not your style" She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and it's been awhile" So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?" His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, your cousin's not a Christian" "But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere" So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able And where does magic come from, I think magic's in the learning Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, "Really, no, don't bother" Amber's uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father He thought about his brother, how they hadn't spoken in a year He thought he'd call him up and say, "It's Christmas and your daughter's here" He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, saw his own son tug his sleeve saying "Can I be a Pagan?" Dad said, "We'll discuss it when they leave" So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold  * May all your days be merry and full of Magic * On Giving Kahlil Gibran You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow? And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the overprudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city? And what is fear of need but need itself? Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable? There are those who give little of the much which they have--and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome. And there are those who have little and give it all. These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty. There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward. And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism. And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue; They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space. Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth. It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding; And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving. And is there aught you would withhold? All you have shall some day be given; Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'. You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving." The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture. They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish. Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights, is worthy of all else from you. And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream. And what desert greater shall there be, than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving? And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed? See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving. For in truth it is life that gives unto life while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness. And you receivers... and you are all receivers... assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives. Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings; For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the freehearted earth for mother, and God for father. Two Ears and One Mouth It was Ghandi who said, "You have two ears and one mouth", which I interpret to mean that we ought to listen twice as much as we talk. When it comes to musicians, I think we might square this and multiply it by infinity. The best music makers I know don't just noodle along in a jam, they figure out the bass-line first, they know the foundation before climbing to the attic, don't play over vocals, know their time to shine, enjoy finding new music, encourage and appreciate every level of discovery, and above all- they **listen.** listen.**listen.** This requires most humble genius, patience, and a deep and unfettered understanding of our various musical roles.
MY RECENT GOOD LUCK
I had a concert at the Schokoladen scheduled for yesterday (Wednesday) but as the fates would have it- they are having noise compliant issues and the ordnugs amt is breathing down their neck...they gave me the choice to opt out of performing (or go on at 9:00) and I chose not to play....which was the most fortunate choice I could have made. In place of performing myself I attended a konzert at the GlassHaus here in Berlin. What use the performer made of time and space, the loop station, the sparse Tom-Wait's-eqsue piano accompaniment, not to mention the handsome black bow-tie under spotlight was truly stunning. There are rare artists out there who have the ability to transform energy, and inspire peace by relieving us the constant burden of hearing our own incessant woes. They give us something much higher. They are ambassadors for a better and more perfect world we tirelessly strive towards. All musicians to some degree or another are chasing the tail of this most elusive dragon, and last night I was transported to a place of pure inspiration. Thank you for this, and thank you *universe* that we have ears to hear at all.
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 Why blogging is like singing in the shower
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April 25th~ Hats off the Chris, Julian and the gang of talents who worked to publish the latest edition of Berlin's own english literary journal. I was honored to play the release party event and Ice-block exit aside,..(don't ask.) it was a party worth remembering.
.  Oh yes, and Cera got a haiku published! Tequila Bar Haiku Is it you or me that is drunk talking as if words really mattered? |
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