Friday, May 23, 2008
Thoughts after the "Moon" Concerts in Arizona these past weeks:
There's something fairly new for me that I'm digging: playing my own tunes. This is changing my entire outlook on my playing and performing. I've got to do this more...
Thanks to those of you who came up after these shows to encourage me with your appreciation.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
I was talking to the guy next to me on the plane from France last week, and he asked me whether I prefer living close to the mountains or the water.
I have to laugh about this question now, as I'm in West Texas considering to move here. Odessa. The beauty in Odessa is in its people, as I was told yesterday. And the sunsets. Those are two positive things: good people and sunsets. No mountains, though. No water.
I woke up in my hotel bed this morning and was thinking about how I've had mountains, water, glorious nature, and beautiful scenery for the past 3 years. I think I might just have enough reserves to be okay here for a while. I was sipping my coffee at the complimentary breakfast and remembered that not long ago, I would wake to the sun rising over the Mediterranean. I would sit on the doorstep of where I lived in the mountains and let my dog lick me awake as I would enjoy a cappuccino.
There are some things in my life that I'd like to organize. This is a topic to be explored over a cup of tea or cold beer, so give me a ring and let's hang out. Anyway, Odessa would be a good place to get my bearings after flying by the seat of my pants for 3 years.
And... there is an amazing school program set up by a lady named Reba MacHaney which involves more than 30 harp students and 30 harps in the school district there. She is retiring and leaving the program in hopes that it can continue to grow and bloom. Anyone that knows me can tell you that this would be right up my alley. I'd be surrounded by harps and fun people all day. And getting paid for it... such a novel concept; I can't really even imagine what this would be like.
So. The jury is still out, but it looks like I might be getting to know some good people and some nice sunsets.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Back in Phoenix now... My 3 year old niece uses the word "mortified." My 1 year old nephew says, "Good job Megs," after I play the harp. My parents have iTunes playlists. They both sit down on Tuesday nights to watch (AND VOTE FOR BY TEXT MESSAGE) American Idol. My best friend is slightly giddy about a guy she just met. My brother quit his job to spend a month with his wife in Thailand. My sister buys her produce at Trader Joe's, and my brother in law is golfing in Scotland.
And I was worried that it was only I that had changed.
It wasn't until I went on an early morning run, when I smelt the desert, when I tasted the brittle, dry air and felt my thirsty skin try to sweat... that's when I knew I was home.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
And then there were 3. And then there was one. And now there's not even a van. The tour is officially over.
And the official count for traffic violations is in:
5 tickets in 4 countries (It would have been 6 in 5 countries had it not been for CJ's dreadlocks).
And only 2 broken strings between the 6 of us. What is a broken string between friends, though?
We spent our last few days together in Versailles, France. This was new ground for each of us, and holy moly... did we ever enjoy the marvelous days there. Sunburns to prove it. One day was devoted entirely to seeing the palace and the gardens of former French royalty. In the entrance to the grand palace reads: "Tout la gloire de la France." All the glory of France. Here is my suggested playlist for the day:
For the 2.5 hours you have to wait in line just to get in:
For the inside of the palace:
Bach (cello suites, especially the 6th)
For the gardens:
Tout la gloire de la France. It was making me think of this thing someone once said about not loosing heart nor hope in this world. He wrote: "Fix your eyes not on what is seen but on what is unseen, for what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." He proposes that in order not to loose hope in this dingy world, we are to concentrate on unseen things. But I was thinking, while gazing at all the glory of France wrapped up into the splendor of a square mile, that it helps to actually look at the seen sometimes. If we see art, if we have the capacity to create beauty, if we have the desire and ability to conceptualize and build a masterpiece... and all this as humans... how much more? How much more? How much more is the glory of Him who said "Let light shine out of darkness." The glory of France will fade away. That's hard to believe after seeing it's beauty remain 250 years later. The glory we can't see now doesn't fade. Perspective.
In all this glory-pondering, I also decided to try my best not to be back in Europe again (in springtime, at least) without a sweetheart... despite the beautiful weather and "all the glory of France" wrapped up into a few square miles, I'm a hopeless romantic, and found myself melanchol-ily spending the afternoon in the grass in the gardens of Versailles.... toute seule. Mais c'est pas grave.
I wanted to say thank you, girls: CJ, Cat, Louise, and K Phanie. It was a pleasure to meet you, to play music together, and to bond over all of those cheese sandwiches. You each are lovely, and I miss you already.