Tag: #Music

Subtle Blues – May Erlewine • Packy Lundholm • 10 Good Songs

The Beautiful Weight of Grief.

(Listen to this song while you read, listening inspired this post.)

When I write about a song, I pour through whatever I can find that tells me about the creators of that song. I listen to their music, all of it. I read the things they have written, I spend time with their art. I try my best to get to know them through the tiny pieces of themselves that they have given us. In the case of May Erlewine, I have become happily lost. May’s catalog is so deep and so good… my only sadness is the regret that it took me this long to find her. I really don’t think it matters where you start in May’s catalog, just start.

I am really good at recognizing a guitarist’s “hands” or a guitarist’s distinct sound. Some will wear you out with their “hands” and some will announce themselves with the unique beauty of their “hands”.  I will forever remember Packy Lundholm for the opening of “Subtle Blues”.  I was halfway through this song before I heard any of the lyrics and yet, I knew I would write about it. And then I heard the lyrics.

I took the same nosedive into the wide and wonderful works of Packy Lundholm and found Track Sabbath, Vol. 5: Wiki’s Picks. Packy has a unique style for every track and they are all amazing. Every time I think I have figured out his “hands”, he does something completely different, occasionally I’m quite certain, that is exactly why he did that. The second track on that album is about one of my hometowns and was touching and hilarious, in a Packy sort of way.

I like to think that the universe runs the machines for an occasional a second or two, just enough to give you something you need. That’s how I found “Subtle Blues”. A weirdly random play that introduced me to May and Packy and 10 Good Songs, the latter being the label of a few good beings creating magic by way of stunningly beautiful music. 

I very rarely mention labels when I write, 10 Good Songs is changing that, they are creators. They are the vehicle with which I am finding one magical song after another. I want to go and sit with them and just soak up the joy they are creating. Do yourself a favor and go to their site and read the first few paragraphs. There are a total of four artists listed, and I have listened to all of them, and I can tell you this… you will find magic. There is a lyric, an instrumentation, a production, a song just for you. The humans that weave this magic at 10 Good Songs, give me great and wondrous hope. I will continue to watch what they do and listen to creators that align themselves with them.

Is it odd to believe that our world can be better because of music?

Is it odd that we should even ask that question…?

I have been listening to Subtle Blues since the second week of November. I have been soaking in it. It’s telling me something about the weird fog that has been swirling around just out of my view over the last while. I’ve felt a sadness and even the nibbling of depressing ideas… listening to this song has given me a place to nestle in while I reconcile the grief around me.

“..I’m terrified some part of me is dying

And I’m afraid that I am living proof

I’m so in love with the broken world around me

Think I’ve got the subtle blues”

It is a fascinating idea to think that I was grieving for all of this…

As I was letting this song seep into my soul I found May’s thoughts describing where this song came from and I have never felt more like a song was written just for me, not like this. This is truly the real magic of music. Someone blows a piece of their soul out into the universe, and we are touched by it and made more complete.

Here is her post…

“I was out walking a couple months ago and I noticed that I was feeling sad. I stopped to check in with what was going on. I took inventory of my own little world and my spirit. Things seemed good and balanced there. I thought, what is this ache I’m experiencing? I realized that this feeling has become my companion lately and it is the grief I carry for the suffering happening in the world right now.

The pain and injustice inflicted upon our beloved community is real and serious and heavy.

I have been quietly grieving and holding space for these things that have no resolution, that are not okay, that are happening far and wide. I named this feeling, the subtle blues. I don’t think that these blues are supposed to go away. That’s why I carry them with me. I’m carrying humanity in my heart, and as much as it does ache, in that aching and grieving I also find joy and beauty and connection.

I dedicate this song to what aches in you, and I offer the idea that maybe it’s supposed to ache. I hope this song reminds you that even while it hurts, we are not alone in feeling this pain”

I felt this reach into the shadows of so many pieces of my life and sweep the mystery away. I was quite sure I was just tired, but I found grief… I hadn’t thought that I might be grieving. The power of this song very gently, let me work through some shadow chasing and learning again. I am yet again moved by just how deeply powerful the magic of music is.

I live with the subtle blues…

I didn’t know how much I have fallen in love with the world around me. I didn’t know I could care so much for the people around me… I am rich with family, friends, co-workers and all of the neighbors that come through our little neighborhood grocery store. I never planned on being so incredibly blessed… and yet that sadness. I feel the weight of my history, and I am most anxious for my friends who are just getting started with their lives. Their goals and dreams are so different than mine were. Almost none of them talk about having kids and they do not believe they will ever own a house. I can hear anger and anxiety about the divisive wind that is raging around us, and I don’t know how they are supposed to navigate that.  

I grieve for the world that is unfolding for my grandkids, I can’t even fathom what will be left for their children… I hope for the spark of wonder that will capture us and give us a reason to find answers… I know I will keep looking.

None of us have been sleeping much, but we sure know how to dream….

“My pain doesn’t fade the same

It lives inside my chest

Past down at my mothers

Mothers, mothers strong request”

Some of my pain comes from the very real sense of hope slipping away, I carry that the way my mother carried the burden of prayer… this song reminded me that I have strength, it also reminded me to look up and remember my magic.

I am very good at finding rainbows that float through the night. My mothers, mothers’ strong example of laughing her way into joy gave me keys that I have never forgotten.

Rusty wearing grandma's wig and bra playing an ukelele

My mothers, mothers, name was Edith, and she was as different a grandma as you could possibly imagine. I miss her shenanigans and her smiles for me. She taught me to find hope in laughter… She laughed so hard when she took this picture of me, she fell on the floor, and then she laughed at herself. We howled for what seemed like hours and I remember those moments as some of the purest in my whole childhood. I can still her crying with laughter as she gurgled out “Oh Rusty, Oh Rusty, look at us…”

“I did grandma, and I carry that with me today.”

First and last time I ever wore a wig or a bra…  it is seriously hard to top making your grandma laugh so hard she falls on the floor… I love you Edith and all of your glorious imperfections. You gave me courage and fueled my independence. You found joy in spite of the judgement that surrounded you. You found joy in spite of the tangled side of my Edith. You liked to drink and smoke and wander around carrying the pieces that you could not find places for, with ideas that you could tell no one. You were the only grandma I knew, and you were precisely perfect.

“I can feel the weight of my history

While I’m trying to walk in someone else’s shoes

I don’t sleep much, but I sure know how to dream

I think I’ve got the Subtle Blues”

I think we are all relying heavily on dreams. Dreams take some of our rest, but in turn, they confront the pain of the moment and beg you to keep walking.

Dreams bring us children who can shine a light on how we step forward.

Dreams remind us of the elders who fought to give us a map.

Songs teach us how to read that map.  

I have always felt like I am walking in someone else’s shoes.

I have even tried to talk to Jesus…

“I reached out to Jesus

To see what he might say

I caught him at a bad time

But he told me I could stay

I asked for his forgiveness

He asked for my advice

So much pressure trying to forgive

The world of all its crimes”

I always look up when I hear May sing, “I reached out to Jesus.” I have seen myself looking across a room, seeing them sitting there talking together, so many times. It still causes me grief. Hoping that Jesus might have something different to say, but I cannot imagine the burden that must be weighing them down, the mankind they died for are burning their ideals to dust.

Listening to this song gave me a new empathy for Jesus, it is helping me to separate my anger and distaste for the men who used his words, from the good it can do to just love someone for the sake of it.

“Turns out all the angels

Their inside me

I hear all hell

is Turning loose“

“I’m looking for the rainbow in the night

I think I’ve got the subtle blues“

This is the part I wait for every time I hear this song. It is empowering and thrilling. Every one of us is a significant accident and we fit perfectly into the fabric of the universe. There is no copy of you now or ever. We are all the angels we need; each of us are pieces of stars… and we create magic.

…your magic can heal the universe.

You are the gift of magic and that is why all hell is turning loose. Stop trying to be like the one you saw everyone else trying to be like and just be you… no one else can do that. It is the most powerful magic you will ever find. You might just be the rainbow in the night that someone is looking for.

embrace the subtle blues…

“I wanted to meet mercy

She said she had no time

Could not wait to see her

So I jumped the line

I asked about belonging

She said what do you mean

Why would something free

Want to belong to anything”

How many of us have jumped the line in order to meet mercy? We all want to be forgiven and carried for even the tiniest of moments. It is hard to set loose of the angel inside of you and sometimes we just want to be invisible amongst the ones we are looking like. We want to belong to anything.

Interesting that mercy talked about being free and not independence…

The “need” to belong could be one of the most difficult things for us to deconstruct. Belonging has value only as long as we understand the value we bring to belonging. We have been told all our lives that we are like sheep, and we are broken, and we should find comfort in shared sorrow, suffering and belonging. We should never forsake the ties of the other angels around us, but you should be actively seeking out those who embrace the uniqueness of you. You are the perfect version of you, carry your subtle blues as a sash of honor and tolerate only those who can appreciate that.

You need to find those whose unique beauty you can love as you would be loved. We all have our village, seek them out and give them all of the energy you can spare. They are that part of the broken world around you.

“I had to talk with independence

She told me not to call

Her house is painted brightly

But you can hardly tell at all”

So many painted their houses brightly and called it independence.

We will be so concerned, unless they call.  

The wild around us found teeth and we are unprepared.

Just refusing the call will no longer suffice.

I hear all hell is turning loose….

I hear the subtle blues….

After a long winters hibernation and letting this song cook in my soul, I have found a place to carry this piece of grief forever. I will always believe that there are core ideas that can guide us to be a place where everyone can thrive, and I will always carry a piece of beautiful grief for the place I think we can be. There is freedom in being honest about who we are, there is joy in knowing I still have words in me that might make a tiny difference.

Listening, learning and growing…

Malena Smith – 27 in Maine (The Ride)

(Listen to this song while you read, listening inspired this post.)

Even before you are born your path begins to unfold and your story begins. As we write that story, we walk from moment to moment gathering scraps of magic and if we are lucky, we find joy. Joy that can teach us to pause and sit in a moment for the time we need to be there. If we are especially lucky, we find joy from the tiny pieces of a soul sent out in their song and we are blessed to breathe them in…

Please, allow me to introduce you to, Malena Smith. Her debut EP, 27 in Maine, comes out this fall, and I encourage you to give her music some of your moments, precious as they are, it’s worth it.

Malena is not new to singing but this will be her first solo release.  She has a tremendously diverse range of experience, from sharing the stage with Michael Bublé, to singing with the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. You will hear that rich experience in each of the tracks on her EP.  Each song will breathe a different piece of the magic she has gathered along the way. Her voice is the boon that I needed just now.

It is alarming sometimes how well the universe knows what I need, and I needed to know who Malena Smith is. Even after ignoring an email from her public relations folks for a while. When I decided to listen, I was struck with incredible gratitude in having been given this opportunity to learn about Malena’s work. She is tapping into the magic, and if these are just the first bits… I’m all in. I can’t wait to buy a ticket to see her sing when she comes through the great Pacific Northwest.

Malena’s voice carries her power, and her message of living in the moment. Every track has a different piece of Malena’s spirit but the title track, 27 in Maine (The Ride) struck me at the center of what I needed… today, in this moment.

“Holding on to moments,

Leads to disappointments

Hourglass keeps goin’

And I can’t help but notice…”

Knowing when to let a beautiful moment go and move on is very hard for me. I have always struggled letting moments find their end. With great sorrow and fighting I have learned that if I do not fly when it is time, not only will I find disappointment, but I may cause others to find that as well.

“Time moves faster the older you get

I haven’t found how to slow it down yet

The best parts pass you by

So don’t close your eyes

Or you’ll miss the ride”

A life can be forty years or a hundred, it can also be just a day. We have innumerous ways to parcel up the tiny little pieces of our lives, probably just so we can count and see how far we have come regardless of how fast it goes, yet it just goes faster and faster. The only thing I have found that helps to slow the spin is to mash my face as hard as I can into the moment I need to be mashing my face into. It could be a two-minute conversation in my checkout line or a chat with an old friend. Being present is the only way to circle the chaos that screams around us. Do not let the screaming take your voice or your calm, put some Malena Smith in your ears, give yourself some joy.

I do not have a special line into what Malena thought about when she wrote this chorus, but for me this spoke of embracing every second, finding the thing you need to learn from, is it this person, this song, or is it that book your reading…

I can think of many times that I was faced with a decision that if I had blinked, I may have chosen right instead of left or blue instead of beige or whatever… There are so many times I could have said no to a big leap and just stayed where I was, holding onto a moment. But I took a lot of leaps, and some fell flat but some were the best ever.

I did ask that incredibly beautiful woman with the very long, very dark hair to dance….

What a ride.

Every moment you encounter could be one that presents you a choice that changes the rest of your life. You may be holding on to where you are just because at some point it was very sweet, or you may not know anything else. You may just be terrified of what lies ahead. But time won’t wait, so don’t close your eyes, it may be scary, but it also may be beautiful…

Don’t ignore that email from Karissa….

“Photographs are slowly fading

Souvenirs collecting dust

These are old records I keep playing

Take me back to where I was”

There is such power in this verse… some of my greatest joys are finding ways back to the places where I had stashed souvenirs and songs. It is in those places that I find pieces of Rusty that I need to learn from. My life is filled to overflowing with kind words or memories and each of them had a part in helping me finding the ride that has brought me to this moment, to this keyboard while Malena sings, a magical soul with so many more tiny pieces to send.

“Spent last summer in the harbor

With parts of me I’d never met

I wish it didn’t make me wonder

How many summers I have left”

This verse is exciting and frightening all at once… but beautiful.  I can feel the excitement of meeting a new part of oneself, I have felt that. I have also felt the ripple of fear that I have only so many times left around this beautiful world. I am so grateful that I am about to complete my sixty-fifth trip, and I have had the best ride. I am by no means done yet, but I will not be silly and say I don’t think about how many trips I have left. I have found that it can always be exciting if you just mash your face into whatever moment, you are in the midst of. Yes, I am repeating myself, it bears repeating.

Enjoy it, savor it and maybe even devour it…. take it all in and then find your way to the next one.

I remember as a kid I would look so forward to a trip or outing and when they came I never wanted them to end. I carried that practice well into adulthood and only in the last decade or so have I learned to relish an adventure but also relish the coming home and being in that place with that one.  Joy will teach us how to pause and sit in a moment, before it floats away to stir smiles in other places. Time moves so fast, but we get the choice of whether we are moved by it or we ride with it…

Malena, in my heart of hearts, I wish you so many moments that will bring you joy in the knowledge that this moment was made just for you. You have deep and ancient power, and your music is from that place. I’ll be one of the adoring fans waiting for the fluttering pieces of your music to breathe life into me.

Listening, learning and growing…

Penny and Sparrow – Mattering Ram

Hope, again.

(Listen to this song while you read this, listening to it, inspired this post.)

This is a song about the stories that connect us to one another and to this day. Penny and Sparrow gave us a song about their stories and reminded me of mine…

I spent some time with my favorite person, wandering the hall of mosses and the beaches of Ruby. The Hoh Rain Forest and the beaches just south of there are sacred for me. They restore me and remind that I am a piece of a star, just like those beautiful spruce with their lichen friends entwined amongst them. This beautiful world will heal us because it is us. We all have a place that refills us, it may be a whole slew of places or just a few… but you have them.

Susan walking in the hall of mosses at the Hoh Rainforest National Park

These are pieces of the stories that brought me to this day…

Stories…

“If you ain’t got love tho, does it even matter….“

Stories are people

When Penny and Sparrow released this song, they dropped these paragraphs of explanation.

“Mattering Ram is at least 15 short stories that actually happened to us. Most of them happen to everybody (over time) and all of that non-fiction matters. Every tail of every snake is tied together in this song so your focus keeps getting pulled in all directions. Here you’ll find pro-tennis writhing alongside antidepressants, near death on huge mountains, naked motorcycle photo shoots & euphemisms for birth control. It hits so hard because it’s all real and recognizable. As honest as life and knee-jerk reactions.

Sometimes things are important for the exact reasons you expect them to be, and you keep eye contact with em’ while they molt and become something else. Other times, you’re wrong and the moon cracks in half while you’re staring at your shoes. Either way it matters.”

This hit me, right between the ears, it rolled me up against the wall and asked me… what are you doing?

I am not sure when a song has rocked me like this. I was almost eighteen the first time I heard John Lennon sing Imagine, sitting in an old boat of car with my friend Floyd. He had told me it would undo me, and he was right. Floyd matters…

This song digs deep like that, even more because I have so many stories now, so many stories. I am getting good at painting with charcoal…

“Guess I think that matters.“

Andy and Kyle are telling us what love is and that it matters. They are telling you about love by giving you stories that belong to them, showing you what love means to them. The stories of your life are the pieces of the love that has made you. The good, the bad and the glorious.  Andy and Kyle are reminding us that today is the day our story is written. As long as we have breath, it is the time to write.

Who are the people in your story? Are they making you better or are they just taking the love out of you?

“All of it still matters”

How many homes will have a photo hanging in the front room of someone on a Suzuki, with no clothes?  I have a friend named Jonny… I think he’d be up for the shot. It would look just fine on my front room wall.

This is a really simple, and gorgeous song… three chords… three beautiful chords that live to make space for the stories in the lyrics… this is such beautiful magic. It reminded me of the rounds we sang in grade school, its tempo and measure. But it never repeats itself and it just keeps slithering across your soul. Yes, I did play my bass along with it and it sounded beautiful.

You don’t know the future and I don’t know the future, but if we’re honest, we know the past. We have our stories and if your very lucky you have your ancestors stories. We have no excuse in making the same mistakes over and over. But we do…

So many tales to bite and connect to.

“Does it even matter?“

I raced into adult life thinking I knew it all… just like you. I found out slowly and sometimes suddenly, I knew nothing. I still know mostly nothing. But I know joy…

We all have a string of tales that brought us to today. The snakes tail, in the snakes mouth…

“Was it a placebo?
Was it a distractor?
Tell me how the wind blows
Tell me if it matters”

I was an ice cream truck driver who broke the 20 MPH rule…

I made some stuff out of fiberglass and I’m pretty sure there is still a Freightliner truck out there with some of my handiwork holding up its hood.

I hated that farm, and it didn’t really care for me. I found darkness there, darkness that nearly consumed all of my song.

it only mattered in how I drifted, and it mattered in who my children turned out to be.

I loved the ditches and canals of block 18 and 47. I got my first glimpse of what a man like me might look like there. I wish I had paid better attention, but does it really matter?

I searched the spirits, and they gave no sound…

I broke through the bondage of Christianity and I really thought it mattered…

“Does it even matter?“

I tumbled into a world that I believed was forbidden to me. I never got to be a college student, but I walked around the halls of education for twenty years.

but what did I change….

Now I write stories that explore the magic that music gave me when that piece of a star broke away and said I will be Rusty…

“All of it still matters”

I find hope in following Susan through the trails and shores that we are blessed to be surrounded by.

I find hope in my coworkers as they navigate this chapter of their story. I am a soul that matters in this chapter of their life, our permanence does not.

“Either way it matters“

You have this moment to create, give hope and find joy… that matters

I am not going to try and explain the stories that Penny and Sparrow sing about in this brilliant song because those stories belong to Penny and Sparrow. They are singing about the pathways that they snaked through to get to this day. You don’t know Nemo, you don’t know Esperanza…

You have a series of stories that have brought you to this day, no one understands them like you do. Some of them are terrifying and some of them make your heart swell. We all made choices that pushed us to today. I believe the universe would be happy if you listened to this song and found that you matter, because you do….

“I don’t know the future
Shout it from the rafters
You don’t know it either
I don’t think it matters”

I wish we were better at letting our understanding of the past guide our ability to steer us into the future. But then, that would require us to be honest about who we are and what brought us here…and we are not.

We control some of our story, but more often than not, we are just washed up on the shore to drip and sputter and try and figure out why.

Pause a moment… look back over your shoulder and look at your trail… look at your story. You rode a river of stories to get to this day. Look at them, they are medicine for you. They are medicine you can give.

I am surrounded by humanity finding their food, every day I am at work. How primal is that?  It is medicine for my soul. People just running from one story to the next at breakneck speed. Most are good and honest people who could create so much joy if only they knew they mattered. I get to tell them they do… We are all hope, you, your friends and the one who bagged your groceries today. All of us create…and it matters. All of us create joy.

If we don’t create, how do we have hope? With everything we see around us, how do we find hope? If we all give up, then what, where do we go?

Listen to this song with your heart wide open and soak in it. There is magic here, really deep, crazy good magic.

Penny and Sparrow, thank you. Thank you for listening to what the music was telling you. Thank you for such good stories that made us smile and recall our own. There is beauty in knowing that the moon might crack open while you are staring at your shoes, and yet, you still got a chance to say pull the goalie…

Listening, learning and growing…

Iron & Wine, Fiona Apple – All In Good Time

Deliberately Random, Post number 35

(Listen to this song while you read this, I listened to it when I wrote it.)

I am sitting at the exact same keyboard I was staring at five years ago when I started this deliberately random effort to understand my weird. That weird, is the ability to become wired emotionally to a particular song. Some would call it obsessed; I am calling it one of my superpowers.

it’s my weird…

I have walked through life thinking that everyone gets it, and wondering, what is wrong with all these people? It wasn’t that long ago that I figured out that the “rest of the world” doesn’t hear music the same way I do.

My weird has brought me so much joy and I am so grateful for all the random things that brought me to this day. Embracing the idea that I can listen to a song on repeat, hundreds and hundreds of times and it ends up a thing I write about and then grow from. My weird makes me cool, and I am going to celebrate myself for a minute. I have been listening and I have been learning and I have grown, I have grown so much… so yeah, I am okay.

“All in good time, I gave it my best
I was alone ’til I found myself
Grew up to be a man more or less
All in good time”

That second line, “I was alone ’til I found myself”, burst into my soul and spun around and around until I noticed it, and then so many things came flooding back. I left Rusty in the back seat a long time ago. Rusty is the one who believes the world is a beautiful place, and without him it’s not. If you have ever set a part of yourself aside, for whatever reason, you’ve been walking alone. I am no expert in the complexity of personalities, but once I invited that part of myself back in, I believed again. I believe that I have value, I believe I have something to give, and I believe that the universe is a better place because I am in it. So yes, I grew up to be a man more or less, but it took a lot of time and a lot of words.

I have written at length about my battles with the entanglement of religion within my spirit, first as a child and then again as I raised my children. When I finally left the church… I exploded away, I couldn’t get away fast enough, nor hard enough. For a time, everything “Christian” evoked a vehement reaction from me, very much like I reacted to unchristian things as a church goer. But as I worked very hard at being honest about who I am, the pendulum has found rhythm. It doesn’t mean my opinion of “church” has changed. If anything, I am more certain than ever that there is nothing for me within the walls of organized religion, Christian or otherwise. But I don’t need to be an ass about it.

There is something wondrous in the universe. I am not sure what they look like, but they know who we are. They are singing and awaiting the energy we will burn into the universe.

The understanding of what is next is the greatest mystery.  Some choose to see heaven, and yet, some choose to see nothing at all. In my sixty-three turns around the sun I have only found one thing that has the power to persist, and it is music.

Music is the constant in everyone.

The small and the proud, all have a song…

Music is pervasive, it is magic.

Music can take you to the ledge…. and then ask you to just sit and listen.

“All in good time, I trusted my eyes
Treated my losses like clouds in the sky
Finally picked on someone my size
All in good time
All in good time, I followed my nose
Learned where to bleed when a night comes to blows
Tried on your love, then I folded those clothes
All in good time”

When I started this blog, I was unraveling a career that was seeing its sun set. I struggled to say out loud what I knew in my soul… so I wrote. When a song embraces me, I spend time with it and I listen, I look for the wonder that a song is revealing to me, and I write about it. It might be about a friend that I knew a long time ago or something I see swirling about me today. Sometimes, it is what I see from my side of the cash register, but whatever it is, music helps me walk through it, layer by layer and find nothing to prove.

Where do you want to go and what is it you want to accomplish? Are you just focusing on tomorrow or has the past paralyzed your ability to walk? Did your plans go to shit; did you get hurt? Have you tried focusing on just today? It is the hardest thing you will ever do because staying in the now requires trust.  Trust that the past is just that. and the future will unfold when it should. Trust in the now and find what is there for you to see, right inside this moment.

Everything else will come, all in good time.

“Throw your bread to falling birds
Buried friends and wasted words
Something wants to eat us all
Alive”

It is your responsibility to get to know who you are and then embrace that. Let whatever you have inside you burn, let it fly and do the thing that makes you smile. There are so many things in this life that want to eat us alive. They scream at you, in hopes that you’ll shrink from them. Don’t shrink away, you do not have to please anyone except you. Go, create…

You are a creative person! Every human with breath has the breath to create. All of us…

Creating is the act of burning a piece of you into the universe, no one can burn the same signature of energy that you can. You are the most precious of creations because you are you and there is nothing more beautiful than what you created. Go create and burn that piece of you into the stars and let it’s joy lift you up. It all comes in the good and right time.

Loving what you create is the most empowering feeling you will ever experience. I love what I write, I am so proud of where I have arrived. Writing and obsessing over music has set me free. I am giving into the wonder when I create.

Creating is yours to decide upon, trusting in the now and finding that thing inside you that makes your heart sing. It doesn’t matter how hard you have to work on it, and it doesn’t matter how much time it takes. It will make you feel like a star and the very best thing in the universe, because you are a star. You will see it, all in good time.

“All in good time, we fell like a star
We closed our eyes and we opened our arms
Ran off the road in our own stolen car
All in good time”

I believe there are many reasons to have hope. I see them every day, in each of you.  Life means so much. Do not squander what each day means…  Look everything in the eye and challenge it, make sure it is what you should be paying attention to. Look into your deepest self and see if you find joy. Are you listening, have you grown? We are not here to generate income, we are here to create, and you are here because no other person, can create what you can. I desperately want you to find your joy and create. This is why I have hope and why I will always have hope, if humanity is creating then there is reason to have hope.

“All in good time, I gave it my best
I was alone ’til I found myself
Grew up to be a man more or less
All in good time
All in good time, I drifted away
I ran my mouth ’til I’d nothing to say
You broke my heart, then I was okay
All in good time”

Iron and Wine i.e. Sam Bean, has been a favorite of mine for the last fifteen years, and Fiona Apple is, well, Fiona Apple… do yourself a favor and go listen to “When The Pawn…” right now. What Sam and Fiona have done together is doubly magic.  A song that grabs the perfection in each of their voices, and winds around your heart like a scarf…. It makes me a smile every single time I hear them. This is what collaboration looks like.

I could huff and puff and make many proclamations, but I will simply ask all of you to listen, a lot. Thank you, Sam and Fiona, for taking us down this road with you. I will just stay in the now and keep soaking this in…

“All in good time, I trusted my eyes
Treated my losses like clouds in the sky
Finally picked on someone my size
All in good time”

I am trusting my eyes, and I am writing my fantastical biography, savoring every moment of the process. It reminds me of the joy I found when I was in the studio. I loved every moment I played my bass in the studio… It was magical. Writing this book feels something like that, but so much more. I finally picked on someone my own size and found the joy of creating. I have given in to the wonder and I’ll shine as bright as I can.

Should you come through my line at our neighborhood grocery store… or maybe, you just found yourself reading this. I hope you find some of my hope, but mostly, I hope you find joy. It is a beautiful balm for all the things that are otherwise, shit.

To the weirdo’s and freaks I work with, you give me joy every day and I am blessed get to laugh with you while we feed our community. Working alongside you is fuel for my creative fire.

You have no idea how powerful the people are that stock your shelves and bag your groceries. They are magical. So many of them called off their logical life and chased their creative fire and I love them very much.

“All in good time, we’ll remember when
Say our goodbyes and our hellos again
Huff and we’ll puff until they let us in

All in good time”

Find your weird. It is anything that leaves your beautiful mark on the universe. Don’t put conditions around it, just let it be you and listen especially close to that four-year-old you and that thirteen-year-old in you. Say hellos again and be the you that we all need you to be.

I don’t know when I will finish my book or how many more of these posts I will write. None of us can know when we get to fly into the next thing… But while I am here, I will huff, and I will puff all of my findings as I wander and shuffle through all of the music. I will keep the fires of my hope glowing and I will give you my joy.

Learning, listening and growing…

Aysanabee – Watin

A Journey

(Listening to this album while you read, is strongly encouraged)

This is a story about the power of music. This is a story about how music is connected to everything. This a story about letting the magic of music reach deep down inside of you and connect you to far deeper things than anything you could ever imagine. This is the story of my experience listening to Watin, by Aysanabee.

Aysanabee is an Oji-Cree singer/songwriter from Ontario, Canada. His album Watin is a creation of his soul, it was inspired by conversations with his grandfather, Watin Aysanabee. I encourage you to listen to this album from its beginning, and do not stop until you have finished it. Open yourself to hearing the truth and let this wrench your soul. I have never experienced anything like this.

Aysanabee opened his spirit and poured his authenticity into his art and then he gave it to us. Thank you, Aysanabee, thank you for being gracious enough to share your journey. I am not the same man I was before I heard your music.

Listening to the conversations of a man rediscovering where he came from has been a chance to take in something truly sacred. There is so much power, sadness, and beauty in this album. I am still sorting it out. This entire experience is an example of the deepest of magics in music. As you listen to Watin Aysanabee’s voice, let it reach within you, let it move you. I know of no other example that can demonstrate the power of music to move you better than this album.

I read with sadness that Watin Aysanabee completed his journey on May 9, 2023. His story will live on because his grandson decided to capture his beauty and weave it into his art. What they both have given us will take me some time to understand.

Music finds you when you are ready to face a truth. It could be a small thing or something that reaches through generations. That is how this is digging into my spirit; it is shining a bright light on the footsteps that brought me here.

I am the tenth generation of Beard’s that have lived in North America. John Richard Beard immigrated to Massachusetts from England in the 1600’s, he was a Quaker and given his father’s issues with the crown, he came looking for religious freedom. The Beards were here before there was a declaration or a constitution, but I know very little about who the Beards were. The little bit I do know is that Beards were hard workers and very dedicated to the service of this nation, but we have never really been that nice. The only stories of my grandfather Beard are those of his cruelty to his kids…and yet there is deep goodness in my father, his laughter, and his ability to dream are some of the precious gifts he has given me, but he has a place that can look away from the horrors of this world and even his own life, if he chooses. I can talk about this because it exists within me too. I know how to turn away if I choose to, but I will not turn away from this. Listening to the journey that these two men took together has grasped me by the shoulders and made me look into the face of colonization and try to understand my role in it.

I will not turn away.

Colonization, a term that will carry many different emotions depending on where your family came from. As a child, I never knew the term to be derogatory, on the contrary, I was taught the value of it, over and over. I was taught that the colonization of the America’s was Gods’ destiny for us, I was taught this in every church and every school I attended. Manifest Destiny is the constitution of colonization. We have to understand this ground that we are built on if we want to do anything worthwhile. Manifest Destiny, Eminent Domain and Documents of Discovery were the licenses by which countless civilizations were eradicated. We have to understand that this nation was founded on principles that will never align with our deeds.

Our foundation is built from the blood of the civilizations we destroyed by colonizing. We must understand this if we are to ever be truly free. We cannot turn away and push it on to another generation. Every day our civilization becomes less civil, children are gunned down at school, at church or at the mall… and we just walk on. I choose to not walk on, I choose to take responsibility for what my ancestors gave me, all of it. That is why I write.

I write so that my kids and my grandkids will never have a doubt about the direction I am trying to point them. This generation of Beard has no excuses because I am here, and I am writing so you can hear me. Do not look away. We all have something we create. Find yours, make it beautiful and pour your soul into it. I am writing because that is what I have to give you. I write to leave you a record…. You cannot say you didn’t know. 

How would you survive having your children stripped from your home for the explicit purpose of eradicating your existence. How do you walk away from that?

We are blood thirsty people.

Being honest goes against all of our programming, it goes against all of the things that give me privilege, and privilege has nothing to do with my income status. Privilege is how I am treated by society and acknowledging my privilege requires nothing of me. That is the privilege of privilege. White Europeans know absolutely nothing about the trauma of having your ancestors driven to reservations and schools designed to hold them until they existed no more.

How many of you know the deep scars that move through generation after generation of a people?

Did your ancestors arrive in the cargo hold of a ship to be sold as livestock in this great “free” land?

How many of you know the horror of having all of your property confiscated because you look like the enemy across the sea, and now you live in a prison camp, in this great “free” land?

Remove these things from our history books and you take away any hope we have of surviving.

Indigenous people from thousands of nations lived on these continents for tens of thousands of years before Columbus or even the Vikings landed. They thrived in this land and survived every natural turn of the Earth. In the tiniest fraction of that time, we white Europeans have brought the wrath of this planet upon us all. She is giving us warnings, but she might decide she is done and just wash us away. We really are that insignificant in the grand scheme of everything. Your bank account will not get you or your descendants past this. Even if we get real and give all control of everything over to the stewards who were placed here first, I am not sure if this beautiful world will change her mind. She is angry…

This is not about god, or the end times, no one is going to whisk you away.

Every time I listen to this album, I peel back another layer of who I am and what my ancestors did.

Every time I listen to this album, I peel back another layer of grief for the things that were lost.

Every time I listen to this album, I peel back a layer and find hope.

I encourage you to read the lyrics of this album while you listen. Listen to Watin tell his grandson the words of his people and what they mean, honor that knowledge as you hear it, attempt to understand it. This is a gift, and we should treat it as such.

If you are reading this and hail from a white European family like me, I hope you feel some grief. With grief we might take a step forward, but without it we are doomed to repeat our atrocities and ultimately, we will evaporate. We will wash away like vapors on the horizon when the heat rolls up out of the desert.

We are not Nomads, we have not found the beauty of following the seasons. This is cemented in my understanding every time I have a customer come through my line complaining about the rain and the grey in the Pacific Northwest.

We are not Nomads… but can we strive to be wise? Can we just once understand that there is more to us than just our Bones.

“Slow it down and just feel it out
Take your time digging and reel it out
Slow it down and just feel it out
Believe your words before you shout them out”

“Believe your words before you shout them out.”

Does providing reparations mean we will heal? It will not restore the civilizations that have been lost but I know we have to do something. I do not believe that our nation can survive if we do not deal with the blood on our hands. Listening is our only chance to know the way forward.

I have been listening to this album for over two months now and there have been weeks that I listened to nothing else. I will continue to take this in. I wrote a letter to my grandson while listening to this, he turns eighteen this month and my hope was to give him some keys to walk through the challenges of life. I believe that is one of the steps towards healing. If our grandchildren don’t hear from us, then they are destined to spin their wheels just like we have.

My relationship with music is the thing that makes me weird, and it is that weird that lets me see my role in hope. In examining that relationship and writing about it, I am coming closer to the truth of me. I believe that finding that truth is one of the few things of value I can pursue.  Pursuing my truth and supporting everyone’s pursuit for themselves is one step in creating a world we can all thrive in.

We need to find a path to coexistence, but I clearly do not have the answers. We need to stop acting like we know what to do and listen. Listen to what the world is trying to tell us and act on it. Listen to those who have tens of thousands of years of experience stewarding our home and act on it. I am part of the solution as long as I don’t look away and listen…

Listening, learning, and growing…

The Band Plays On – Bob Schneider

“After you fell out your chair

Strawberries in your hair

After you fell off the face of the moon

Well, I thought I’d let you know, just in case you’re listening bro

What happened after you were gone”

In 1981 I lost an extraordinary friend, and his name was Dewayne. Dewayne died of leukemia, and he died with style. He fell out of his chair with strawberries in his hair and was one of the most remarkable human beings I have ever known. This song reminded me of how long it has been since I visited with Dewayne.

“The band played on

The band played on”

Dewayne came into my life at a time when I was mostly alone and utterly adrift, he made me feel unique and loved. I had never kept friends, but Dewayne and I bonded and there has never been another friendship like this for me. I knew when I met him that he was dying, and he knew that I knew. He showed me what joy looks like. Walking through those days, he knew his fate, but he chose to dance his joy into everyone around him…

So many years have passed since the last time I saw his face or heard his voice. I believe I had forgotten what that face of joy looked like. This song took me back there and I am so grateful. Dewayne accepted who he was and where he was going in the most noble of ways, he lived with nothing to lose and those who knew him were given joy, he was uniquely kind, and I miss him.

“Well, you meant the world to me

You were all I’d ever need

My one true love until you were gone

But you left me here to rot

Left me with all that I’m not

But what I found before too long”

He threw a party in Seattle just to celebrate my visit, we had such a time. Someone even tried to steal my guitar, but for an impassioned plea from my friend Dewayne… the guitar just reappeared. I really didn’t know how incredible this friendship was at the time, but I really do now. All his cheering gave me hope. He taught me to have wonder in living my life even as he knew his own was ending. I wish I had clung harder to that hope that he had shown me. It has been a long time since I have visited with Dewayne… I didn’t know how much I missed him. I let life walk me away and I fell off the face of the moon.

This is the magic of music. It allows you to go and walk among those memories. It can provide an understanding to a dilemma you have wrestled with for years. Occasionally a song happens that speaks just the right thing and opens a hidden door.

Bob Schneider has proven yet again, that there really is magic… some of us create through music, some of us by serving and yet others by making. The magic lies in the energy we pour into whatever we are creating. Every one of us can create, we choose what or where we pour our energy into, and I truly hope that you find it beautiful…. This is your magic… you should enjoy it.

It is through Bob Schneider’s magic, that I was reminded of the love that friendship brought me. “The Band Plays On” is from his most recent album, “In a Roomful of Blood with a Sleeping Tiger”.  I have listened to Bob Schneider spin his magic for decades, since another one of my friends gave me “Lovely Creatures”.

“In a Roomful of Blood with a Sleeping Tiger” is a beautiful piece of magic. “Joey’s Song” is a tender note given to a child, friend or family member; it is simply beautiful. Contrast that with the hilarious romp through a demi-gods life in “Thor” and you will see the energy of Bob Schneider’s magic. This album is a quirky masterpiece that you really need to sit down and listen to, it is truly magical.

Thank you, Mr. Schneider, for taking me down this road, I really like what you do man, Dewayne would have liked you too….

So, what did happen after you were gone bro… 

You were a hero and a friend

The whole world loved you to the end

They put a statue of you down in the square

And when I heard the news, you see

Well, it really got to me

I even learned to play one of your songs

I remember when Dewayne called me towards the end of his life and made me promise that after he left, I would watch out for Candy. I knew she was laying there next to him, and I knew she was crying, just like me. That was the last time I talked to him. Dewayne had decided to be done with any treatments, he just wanted to smoke some pot and enjoy the moments, so he did. He sailed into the next life not long after that call. There are a lot of things in my memory that are fuzzy and flawed, but I will never forget that call from Candy, it was shortly after midnight, and she let me know he was gone… it was quiet for a bit and then I told her I loved her, and I would be there for whatever she needed. She was so strong… she told me she was ok, and she would be good, he has his teddy bear.

The last time I talked to her was at Dewayne’s memorial service and she insisted, I should go my own way and not worry about her, she really didn’t need me to take care of her.

So, I did, and I am so sad… I just let the band play on.

“Oh, I hear the bell it tolls

It takes bodies from their souls

It’s tolling now

I hear it on the wind

And it ring’s as if to say

That we only have today

The only day we’ve got until we’re gone”

Believe in affecting today, don’t wait for your next chance…please just live… today. Dewayne gave me his best version of how you do that, and it has taken me far too long to figure out just how incredibly he lived. Hopefully, I can utilize the rest of my days to show just how much he gave me, the joy, the laughter, and the willingness to love.

The bell is tolling, this is a time of deciding how we will make every breath count. The bodies all around us are filled with souls who long for a friend., and the band plays on… we live our life.

I have spent so much of my life flailing around but over the last few years I am doing a little less flailing and instead, I’m being deliberate. As I gather myself for this last long walk into wherever we go from here. I know that I have given love, I have found joy and I’ve given it away. This is the only day we’ve got until we are gone.

I could use the rest of my days replaying what I did wrong, or I can choose to use the days of this walk to pour my energy into something I find beautiful. Dewayne was the friend who gave me his gift of belief, belief in who I can be. I loved that he believed in me, even as I type I know I am just beginning to unravel the marvel of the life he lived.

I remember the first time I visited Dewayne in the hospital, his condition, and the smell of the hospital took my breath away. I felt faint and disoriented, I thought I was going to be sick… people came here to die… I had to leave his room and I sat in the hall outside his door, I wondered how much he would hate me for this, my utter weakness to look for one day of what he consumes with every breath. After a bit, I regained some composure and went back into his room. He smiled at me and said, “its alight man, I saw myself in the mirror this morning” and he laughed. Then he lit a joint, took a hit and offered it to me.

We got high in that hospital… we only had today, the only day we got until we are gone. And the band played on….

You meant the world to me man….

The story goes that Candy’s family had walked away from her for marrying someone she knew was going to die. The love I felt from my generous friend, was only eclipsed by Candy’s love for Dewayne. She loved him completely. I wish I knew where you were Candy, I would like to say thank you. Because of you, I know what love is. I saw how you loved my friend Dewayne.

I hope you found love again and you have had a beautiful life.

I only had that day, to say I would still be there, and its gone.

“The band plays on

The band plays on”

Here I am now, a man, growing old, and my friend Dewayne has pondered the universe from a completely different vantage point for the last forty years. I can’t wait to hear what you have learned bro. I hope I have a few things for you when I get there.

Every single day is a chance to pour your energy into something you love and then, find it beautiful. Every single day is a chance to give someone joy. Our greatest challenge is to make each of those happen more often than we keep them away. Sometimes I forget how incredibly lucky I have been. The things I have seen and the friends I have found have made me so rich. I know that when I am done the band will play on, but hopefully I will have left a bit of my muse in what they sing and play.

Listening, learning, and growing…