MUSIC!

Next Saturday, Erik and I will be playing a set at the "Be the Difference" benefit concert for Glen A. Wilson High School . There will be music all day long (11am to 4:30pm). We go on at 12:00 noon. Bring your friends!

When? 11/07/09
Where? 1605-1695 S. Azusa Ave, Hacienda Heights
And...it's FREE!

I would rather listen to something else. Thank you.

I sometimes like the city. But I don't love it. I can appreciate the kind of life that dwells here. Homes filled with people and pets. Streets filled with much of the same and a little more. The pace can be exciting to me at times. Most times though it is too much for my senses.

Traffic.
Smog.

Concrete and asphalt spreading out as far as the eye can see.

NOISE.

The barrage of billboards sending streams of advertisements for the stuff of our consumer culture…they are always shouting at me. And I hate that.

“Welcome home kids. Welcome back to reality. Now, here is a list of things you need to do and buy in order to be happy/healthy/successful/etc. Lucky for you, yours is a kind and generous culture. We’ll give you 20% off your next purchase if you run out your door RIGHT NOW!”

What?

No.

Is it sad that what I like most about a city has little if nothing to do with the city itself? I am breath-taken by the yellow trumpet tree that lives on the median on Allen St. just south of the 210 freeway. I wonder if people in their cars are moving too fast to notice it’s golden presence. I must have passed it a hundred times before I saw it. It seems so out of place.

Where are all the trees? Buildings and parking lots should seem out of place rather than trees. Why do we insist on replacing natural things with unnatural things?

Anyway…

We packed our little car with our camping gear earlier this month and hit the road for a couple of weeks to celebrate our two-year anniversary. It was a much needed get away from all of the above. It was a time to center ourselves and to take in the beauty of God’s creation. The grandeur of Yosemite provided a corrected perspective of things:

I am so very small…God has created such incredible beauty out of much tougher things than me. Why do I let myself forget that he is always loving and careful with his creation, including me? He carved and shaped this valley out of rock and ice. He brings the rains that fill the rushing rivers and the smallest creeks. He formed me in my mother’s womb. Amazing.

And that was the thought that continually came to me in some form or another as we slowly and happily traveled down the wild central California coast. Stopping at every other turn out to admire the view of the powerful waves crashing against the rocks. We were both filled with amazement by the natural beauty we experienced over the course of our trip.

Needless to say, it is difficult to come back to all of this noise. And there is so much of it. And if there is one thing that I have brought home with me from our last couple of weeks, it’s that everything that shouts over His still small voice is completely expendable.

Why I love Fall.

Fall is finally here. I can see the change in the morning light. The air feels crisp and smells like trees and damp earth. I welcome her with open arms and sheer delight! Because with Fall the memories are so easy to reach. All of my senses take me back to the loveliest places...a family trip to Zion, hiking with Dad, trick-or-treating with friends, rainy days in elementary school, visits to Oak Glen with my Aunt Ellen, the smell of hot apple cider and cinnamon...

And more recent memories of love. The butterflies in my chest as I stood alone in that little room looking out through the lace curtains at my husband to be. The last of the wedding party slowly and carefully making their way down the uneven path. The golden late afternoon sunlight shining through the pretty twisted trees that shaded our guests.


And the music stops.

sweaty palms,
nervous stomach,
deep breaths.


Here we go.


Holding my bouquet making sure that Dad's pocket watch was properly attached and displayed. I think he walked with me that day. I felt a certain comfort that only he could give me.

My Godfather knocks. "OK kid, this is it. You ready?"

"Yes. I am ready."

I placed my arm in his and we headed down the uneven pathway that led to Erik. Uncle Ron and I made a deal that if one of us fell then the other would fall down too to share in the moment. Lucky for us there was no need for such self sacrifice. Carefully we passed the musicians, friends, family, and some unfamiliar faces...but mostly familiar and loving faces. There were some people there who would end up getting their panties in a bunch because of where they were sitting or because I didn't get around to saying much to them at the reception. Ahhh...weddings. But for now they smiled as they should.

I don't remember who was out in the crowd. I think I only looked out there twice. My eyes were happy and fixed on my groom. The man who had suddenly showed up and awakened my heart only a year earlier. It was a summer night when we were talking in a parking lot in the bed of the El Camino and somewhere in the long hours of conversation I knew beyond a doubt that he was my "one".

As I stood there trying to be completely present...trying to absorb everything, the words of love and blessings from Father John and Pastor Jennifer, the image of Erik's beaming face into my memory, trying to feel everything...I thought, "You. You are giving your heart to me. And I am giving my heart to you. I knew you were out there somewhere! I could feel you."

I am so glad it was you.

Dreams!

This is my plan...

Some day soon we will sell everything we've got (save a few necessities: guitar/some good books/and a few sentimental treasures...oh! and our furry friends Zooey and Jake-and possibly our goldfish Dr. Wilbur. Ever seen What About Bob?...Gil survived in a peanut butter jar!). We will use that money to purchase the perfect VW CAmper bus with a pop top and then we'll hit the road for a very long time.

There is a big world out there and I have every intention of experiencing it BEFORE the golden years of retirement. Who says I'll even live that long? And who says that I won't be blind or deaf or incredibly dull by that time? I hope not, but you just never know.

Finished!

So, I'm sad to say that I've never been much of a reader. I was always too busy thinking up my own stories as a kid and avoided books like the plague as a teenager. It's a damn shame. But now that I've buckled down and read Steinbeck's East of Eden I can celebrate my victory over lazy neglect of at least one truly good thing. And I am better for it.

I could not put this book down for fear that I might miss something. Of course, it's a book...I wouldn't miss anything, but it was so alive that I FELT like the beauty would go on without me like the painted sky at sunset growing more vibrant by the second and then quickly fading into grey. I didn't want to look away.

This story is everyone's story. It's an honest picture of what it means to be human.

The character's struggles are raw and ugly... revolting even. But they are REAL. And though they may take a different shape in our own lives, we hold the same darkness deep in the forgotten corners of our hearts. One might think that to be terribly depressing, but I have found great freedom in this. Both the mystery and important truths concerning our capability for evil and for good are woven tightly through all 600 pages of this powerful story.

We are not very different from one another. We want and also fear the same things: To be loved is the treasure that outshines all others. To be left unloved is a terrifying existence...the poorest existence even.

I don't really know how else to describe this book. I've been sitting here for a very long time editing this post and I just can't find the right words to say...I guess I'm still processing. BUT, what I will say is that this is one of the richest stories I've ever read and I encourage you to read it if you haven't already.

The White Rabbit

Emerson, Erik and Mufasa?

I believe that the best remedy for the tidal wave of frustration and anxiety that follows the event of being made to feel small and inferior is to do something you enjoy and perhaps are good at. Not out of spite, but simply as a reminder that you are more than what they say you are.

So, last night I joined my talented husband in some drawing time. It's been a long time since I have allowed myself to sit and draw. As a child I would draw every chance I could get and now I've discovered that my love for it is still alive and well. It just needed to be brought out into the light again.

It amazes me when I think about how, as kids, most of us automatically did whatever it was that we loved to do. Boldly and without a second thought I would draw and write for hours at a time. Nowadays, as an adult, too often there needs to be a justifiable reason for what some people would consider "wasting time." When did drawing become a waste of time? Where did that thought come from? My practical wet blanket side of me gets in the way of the kid in me as I am sure yours does too.

Ralph Waldo Emerson illustrates this battle in his essay Self Reliance He says things like:

"Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members...The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance is it's aversion. It (conformity) loves not realities and creators but names and customs."

"What I must do, is all that concerns me, not what the people think."

"Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string."

"The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried."

and

"...live ever in a new day..."

Whenever I am feeling out of touch with myself I turn to this essay. His words offer courage and hope to tired souls like you and me. I highly recommend that you read it and re-read it.

But having another person in your life that truly knows you and sees and adores ALL of what makes you YOU is something that will save you from giving in to a world that wants to make you into something else. This is one of the things I love about Erik. He is always defending the kid in me. I am confident that if I ever came home with news that I got a job as an accountant or something he would gently sit me down and put a pen and sketch pad in my hands and probably a guitar in my lap. And maybe hold up a mirror in front of me and say...

"This is you."

and then he would say something funny like...

"Remember who you are Simba"