This is, by far, the most

inspiring event I've seen in a long, long time. Susan Boyle, several days ago in the UK.

Perfection

T

Diversity

Last month while I was in California, Rachel and I did something we've only talked about doing for years--we went to a singing-clapping-rockinout kind of church in San Francisco--Glide Memorial, a non-profit started 40 years ago in the tenderloin district. What a fabulous experience. Glide resides in a large, old building on a corner. It isn't fancy. Someone pointed out that children who live there have never seen the Golden Gate bridge. So many experiences in life we take for granted! Two services are held in the chapel each Sunday to accommodate everyone, but don't imagine pristine and ceremonial. It was anything but. The chapel is old, the floors and benches are worn and the whole building needs a face lift, but never mind. The spirit of the people who attended more than made up for any physical deficiencies in our surroundings. Rachel and I attended the early service and sat in the middle just a few rows from the front. The band warmed up (yes, they have a 7 member band including brass!) and then the famous Glide Memorial Choir filed onto the stage. No robes, no costumes of any kind, just people in all their diversity. They didn't have any sheet music either, just voices and heart. When they began to sing, and boy, howdy, can they ever, the crowd stood up and sang with them. Honestly, I've never seen so many different ways to shake a booty, or had so much fun!

"I'm gonna do when the spirit say do!"

"Do when the spirit say do!"

"I'm gonna do, Oh Lord, when the spirit say do!"

"Do when the spirit say do!"

"I'm gonna laugh when the spirit say laugh...

"I'm gonna sing...dance..."

I taught this song to Soren after I came back to Maryland and he laughed out loud the minute I began to sing. Of course, I was clapping with the song the way I learned it--on the down and third beats; later we added our own extra verses...I'm gonna jump...hop...pray...eat...clap...He still grins from ear to ear whenever we sing it.

The meeting lasted 1 and 1/2 hours and was about 2/3 music and 1/3 talk. It's not the kind of Sunday I could do every week--I need my quiet, reflective time, but the experience was unique and joyful. I'm glad to have been a part of it. I loved the pastor's interpretation of the prodigal son, because it was all about hope and never giving up. I sat there looking around at the people from all walks of life from the wealthy to the homeless, listening to different languages being spoken around me, and I thought to myself that this is probably the purest San Francisco kind of experience anyone could have.

Glide feeds the homeless (as well as anyone else who wants to eat) three hot meals a day, 365 days a year. I hope the city of SF is subsidizing them in some way for all the work they do. In addition to serving approximately 70,000 meals per month, they have a youth program to help young people finish high school and find work, a day-care program, an after-school program, a drug and alcohol education program, and they just finished construction of a high-rise in SF that will provide permanent homes to 81 low-income families. What a great example of vision and how much love and determination can accomplish. If I ever live in the Bay Area again, I would love to do some volunteer work there.

Beauty and Disorder

Beauty and disorder reside together very nicely in my apartment as you'll see from the pictures below. I love being able to work on projects (in this case 30 years of photos) and leave everything out indefinitely. Whenever I return from being out, everything is right where I left it.

Books!

Well, I finally finished the two handmade books. They were a lot of fun, and good teachers for what to do and what not to do when making future books. The psychedelic one I'm going to keep for myself. The larger one I gave as a gift at a birthday party. The recipient loved it.

Pretty Pretty Paper

Today I drove into Baltimore and went to the St. Charles building, an old row house type building owned by the University of Baltimore. It houses the Creative Writing department and was originally a brothel--back in the day. The ceilings are high, the window wells deep, and the stairs between floors steep and narrow. I love it. Luckily there's an elevator now.

I took part 1 of a 2 part book binding workshop. It was so much fun!!! I re-learned how to make several types of handmade books (Originally learned in the book arts class I took at Mills College.) The creative process--handling paper and scissors, starting with a form in mind but not an end result--was so energizing. I wrote a poem while I was cutting and folding. After the 4-hour class I went straight to an art shop for paper for the hardbound books we'll be making next week.

There's nothing like hand-made paper. It's gorgeous and relatively inexpensive. The textures can feel almost like fabric. And since my book arts prof took our class to a paper making company in Berkeley once, I have a great appreciation for the process of handmade paper. I took some pictures of what I bought today, but they don't do the paper justice. Next time you're in an art store, just ask to see the handmade paper if you don't already know how fantastic it is. I'll post pictures of my finished projects next week.

Announcement

Found out recently that the Mormon DC choir has a policy against public display of choir event recordings--both for copyright law reasons as well as the quality of home videos--which are never as good as the live performances anyway. In light of this information, I will be taking the Boogie Woogie number off of Youtube within the next day or two. If you want a copy of it, respond to this post or send me an email, and I will burn a copy on cd and mail it to you instead. Happy singing.

Boogie Woogie Video

Link to video removed. (See more recent posts).
Leah suggested that I use Youtube as a place for videos, so I created a free account and uploaded the video. It took a reeeeeeeeeeeeaaaly long time, but it was worth it. Thanks Leah!

So, next techie question: How do I go about or what would one need to transfer cassette taped material to cds? I found some really cool stuff...but it's old...

Boogie Woogie

I was very fortunate after surgery to be well enough to drive to one of the Mormon DC choir concerts recently. I had been to a couple of their practices with Chantel, so I knew the music was going to be great. It was. They sang patriotic, spiritualist, folk songs and hymns. The program included a couple of soloists from the choir and a trumpet solo by Andy Alphin, who is the top trumpet player for one of our military bands. This choir always sings for free and we had a large audience. As it turned out, I got a front row seat and was able to video a special number Chantel was in: "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy". However, I finally figured out how to get it off my camera and onto my computer only to discover that blogger doesn't allow videos more that 100 MB. Phooey!! Any suggestions? With the exception of the first photo, the rest are from the Boogie Woogie number done as an encore at the end of the show. The audience loved it and I loved being the proud Mama. Rachel heading to the mike for her solo line.

Chantel singing hers.

I hope that Chantel has many opportunities, if she wants, to sing and perform. She is a natural in front of an audience.

Me and my beautiful girl. Don't mind the splotchy mascara. But I did go to a salon for a 'boy hair-cut'. I couldn't stand the hair on my neck and I knew I didn't have the patience to grow it out either.

A Fabulous Artist

Heads up people! I just found out that a good friend of mine, Sharon Wise, not only has a website, but she has her art in several galleries. Congratulations girlfriend! I've seen her paintings up close and personal and they are simply gorgeous. Sharon works in water colors, but you're not going to believe what you see. When I publish my first book, I'm going to treat myself to one of her prints. Sharon creates her own settings, takes her own professional photographs, enlarges them and paints from those. Each painting takes hundreds of hours and can have over 20 layers of color. I rented and lived downstairs from Sharon for two years. We took lots of walks together and went for Thai food on occasion. After I moved into my condo, Sharon and I met several times for tea and girl talk. Not only is she a rare artist, (I've never seen any work like hers) she is also a dear friend. You go girl!

Hanging Out

I just spent the last several days at Marty's and Sheila's in Burlingame. Every night Marty lit a fire for us, either in the living room or the outside barbeque. Dinner was sheer pleasure sitting down together in the dining room with big band or jazz playing in the back ground. I love that family. They have been through hell the past year but seem to be coming back to a new normal now that Andrew has finished chemo and he's finally eating and putting on weight again. He is both precious and precocious.The other night he said, "Mom, I think I'm coming back!" He loves nothing more than to "prep" for dinner by washing and cutting vegetables, setting the table, and helping to serve the food. Family mealtime is really important to that little guy. When he's in charge, we sit where he directs. Samantha is an amazing young woman also. She works, attends jr. college, saves money, and has good relationships with everyone in her family. She is fun to talk with and has a strong element of common sense about her.

Andrew is a fabulous artist. The family room wall is covered in art that Andrew created. Most of it looks like it came from a gallery, honestly. Some pieces are painted while others are collaged and still others are 3-dimensional. Yesterday we shopped at Michael's together, picking up scrapbooking paper, stickers, clay, clear glass ornaments and other supplies. I'm on an art kick myself, I guess because of the holidays, but also because I discovered through an art class recently at the Wellness Center (cancer related) that art can be very therapeutic.

I love black, gospel music,

just in case you didn't know. Last night I went to Oakland with Clayton and Michele and we listened to and watched Gladys Knight with her gospel choir at the interstake center. There was clapping and hallelujiahs, amens from the audience, and I felt like a child wrapped in a soft old quilt. There's something so Memphis about that kind of music for me. I remember Sunday School and Bible School in the summers..."Jesus Loves Me, This I Know, for the Bible Tells Me So..." And when Gladys sang those same words with such power and sincerity, I couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

As children, we didn't grow up going to black churches, but the music FEELS so warm and familiar. Is it genetic memory? I have memories of gospel music flowing through open car windows as we passed church after church going grocery shopping at the Piggly Wiggly, the shoe repair, then stopping at the Wonder Bread factory for a free sample loaf of hot bread. And it didn't seem to matter what day of the week it was. Gospel music seemed to permeate the streets. I have memories of walking from the car to our church on Sundays and hearing music from another big church across the street so full of joy and enthusiasm for life, as though the music was part of the fabric of Memphis. Indeed, given the slave heritage, it must be. I have visions of domestic help singing while they worked, loud and raucous, or sweet and tender. Everywhere, that music wove itself into the fabric of my childhood. No wonder I loved it so much last night.

Black congregation churches in downtown Memphis are are large, stone, and full of beautiful stained glass. The churches out in the country are more simple, white clapboard usually, with green lawns and frequently an attached cemetery. No matter the building, the sounds are the same. Last night, what a gift. I made a trip home and oh, my Southern roots. How grateful I am for them, for their strength and for how deep and wide they extend, surpassing boundaries of color and race and wrapping us all together in a dialect of song.

Dancer Dreams, Still

Last semester at Mills in a dance class I discovered not only my core, physically, but a spiritual core related to movement, grace, strength and beauty. Today I started another ballet class at DVC. Mondays and Wednesdays. I stayed after and explained my situation to the instructor, that some weeks I won't be able to make it; she understood and turns out she did her graduate work at Mills so we already have a connection. I'm so looking forward to moving again. There's nothing like dance and what happens spiritually when the body and the soul communicate.

Dancer Dreams in Montana

Muscle memory. It's a fact. Having it is what makes it easy to ride a bicycle, or ice skate, or dance, after years of not doing so. Muscle memory doesn't fade--at least, not like regular memory. At least, mine hasn't seemed to. I've been taking a ballet class at Mills and I'm amazed at the moves my body remembers--from 30 years ago! I never want to stop doing this. I'm getting strong and discovering movement that I haven't done in years. I even see myself as a dancer--ok--visually maybe a stretch for now, but my dancer's body is still in there--somewhere. Dancing is in my future because it brings me such joy and such a connection with myself that I get in no other way.

Most people are aware that art and music are the first programs to be cut when schools are under budget. Well, now I hear some schools are also cutting PE--ok if you have active children. But what about the families whose children spend their free time in front of the television?? Scary.

I envision a piece of land--Montana maybe, or Idaho. Lots of sky and space, clean air and stars at night. A big, old house with high ceilings and a wrap around porch. A large flower and vegetable garden bursting with zinnias and marigolds and cosmos. A giant old barn, weathered but strong, and inside the barn (this is where it gets fun) daylight and an art studio with tables and easles and sinks and supplies; a dance studio with a wood floor and ballet barres and mirrors and a nice little bathroom, maybe even a remodeled loft for guests. And the best part: children and women of all ages (ok, men can come too if they want), everyone either contributing (talents or resources) or creating, and everyone growing.

This will not be a career move--I still plan to teach--but a way in which to contribute to my community and my family (read between the lines: Grammy wants to live near her family) and do the things I love at the same time. I already have an art teacher who will move to the area as soon as I give the word, and living near each other has long been a dream of my siblings and mine. The place is waiting. Can't wait to find it.