Archive for February, 2009
A Wiley Westward Caravan of Sound
March 26, 2009 starts the Redwood Jazz Festival in Eureka, CA. I’ve been informed “this is the one to go to” this year.
I had a great time road tripping from Seattle to Sacramento last May for that festival and learned so much and met so many amazing people I’m eager to get to another festival. I’m also due for a visit to my parents in Washington since I skipped the holiday madness. I was considering trying to buy a plane ticket, but then started thinking…
Do I actually know enough people from my travels that I could drive across country and back with a couple musicians in tow and find enough gigs to let us eat, sleep and buy gas along the way? It would be a great way to visit some of my favorite people while the money I make here continues to feed the house as a place for other travelers to rest on their way through my neck of the woods.
I’m working on hashing out some details on my end, but suggestions, ideas, and contacts are certainly welcome!
I love…times 10
I’m sitting here listening to the sound of the rain outside and just read the lovely Miss Caroline’s blog about her 10 awesome things that happened yesterday and couldn’t help but be inspired to list some of the things making my own world a brighter place this week.
I love…
1. The roaring sound of rain on the tin roof outside when the world around me has seemed far too flammable lately.
2. A furry, purring cat by my side and a fluffy puppy at my feet while sitting on the couch and writing on the computer on a cold night.
3. Taking a detour to discover something new and a home cooked meal.
4. Listening, dancing, playing, singing, and just plain being in the middle of talented, inspiring, live musicians nearly every day.
5. Friends who don’t assume to have the answers, but help to find the questions that allow us to grow together rather than apart.
6. People willing to share stories about themselves.
7. A quiet, warm house when I’ve grown world weary and need rest.
8. The smell and taste of fresh ground coffee brewing at home.
9. Mistakes that allow you the freedom to change your perspective and salvage what’s good while you rid yourself of baggage.
10. Turning a grimace of frustration into a smile and laughter.
You are under no obligation, but please feel free to post your own ten things and keep the love flowing to brighten the dark.
Something’s burning
Chopper flying over my house to bring water from Town Lake above my house to Melrose Mountain
I feel like I’ve been under fire the past week. I’m behind on my work and making more mistakes trying to help other people while hurting myself. Yesterday, as I tried to buckle down to solve some problems for myself, I stepped outside to refuel the kerosene heater and noticed it was oddly warm. I looked out to see the mountain across the valley on fire.
As I climbed my driveway for a better view, I noticed that firefighters were hard at work and had already saved the houses in the valley, but were still fighting for control. When I returned from trying to handle my own “forest fire” of finances there were spotters at my mailbox delivering information to the folks on the ground and the choppers gathering water from the lake above my house. As the day wore on, the rain arrived to help the humans control the blaze and prevent damage to human structures. At the same time yesterday, my own finances seemed to rage uncontrollably and I felt like for all the work I did to save myself, the debt I owed to others grew.
The view across the Pacolet Valley from my porch 2/2/2009
However, as I watched the flames smolder and dim after dark I realized that sometimes the only thing you can do is control the burn and thank the heavens for their help. I have a feeling this spring there will be brilliant new growth now that the fire has burned the useless baggage of old leaves and vines on the mountain.
I went to sleep trusting that the same lesson will apply to my own life. As long as I keep working hard to prevent the fire of my frustration from spreading to those I love, the dead wood in my life can burn and, with some help from above, fertilize the blossoms of spring.
Jazz & Poetry 