Inspiration Behind the Music

Many musicians might claim that music is their life. For me music is born from living. I seek balance. Through balance I find rejuvenation, inspiration, and creative awakening. My state of balance is complex, not just coming from a practice like yoga, although I enjoy and appreciate yoga. My balance comes from developing an all-inclusive awareness about my life and how I fit into the greater picture. My family and relationships keep me grounded like the roots of a strong tree. Travel and time in nature cause the branches on my inner tree to grow and multiply, showing me a broader picture of the world around me and renewing in me the need and desire to keep learning and growing. Feeding other creative outlets and passions keep me excited about day to day living. And day to day living, while for some gets boring and static, for me the mystery of each new day is an adventure, full of possibility. Swiss writer Henri Frederic Amiel (1821-1881) said "Let mystery have its place in you; do not be always turning up your whole soil with the ploughshare of self-examination, but leave a little fallow corner in your heart ready for any seed the winds may bring...”

My family is my daily lifeline.

My husband inspires me, teaches me, loves me in spite of the crazy hours that I keep and work, and he accepts me even with my flaws. Our relationship is easy... We share a lot and play together, cook together, and work on our house together. He's a creative as well - an artist and graphic designer. Born into a family of musicians, he understands how my life meanders as a musician. He's the first and the last person that I see everyday. I love that.

My daily ritual is to stay connected to at least one of my family members. Sometimes it's a brief shout out to my brother or a quick catch up call to grandma. Other days it's a long conversation with my Aunt Kim, sharing all of the happenings and their details for the whole week. I try to catch mom and dad on the weekends. I have a lot of family that I'm close to. I'm thankful for that.

Good friends are hard to come by, at least that's what I've been told, but I've not found that to be true. I've been blessed with some truly loving, down-to-earth, incredibly supportive friends. They rejuvenate and inspire me, each in their own ways. Some of these friends I've had for over half my lifetime, others - it just feels that way. Just as one might create a family tree, tracing their roots back as far as they can, I like to do a similar activity at least once a year with my friends. I trace back to how I came to know them, what people, places and/or events facilitated having the network of friends that I enjoy so much. It's an eye-opening experience.

When music doesn't have me running here and there, and there's not enough time to take a trip some where, I find time to nurture other creative outlets. When the weather is warm enough, I tend to my flowers and trees and they equally tend to me. Somehow I am refreshed, yet exhausted, when I've spent time in my garden. My kitchen acts as my art studio where I can explore the colors of spices and vegetables. When the mood is right, I try my hand at painting, writing, making jewelry, decorating my space, and photography. My current creative project is remodelling my home. I've picked up some new skills to do this one! Some get learned along the way. It's empowering to see what my husband and I (with the help of a few friends and my dad) have accomplished with our own hands.

Traveling is probably my least nurtured and most nagging passion. The knowledge and perspectives that I've gained as a result of my travels has been what has shaped me and balanced me the most in the last several years. I appreciate the insights that I gain through travel - the insights that I learn about diverse cultures, humanity, all of the splendors of nature, my own strengths and weaknesses, as well as relationships. I've travelled with my family, with church groups, with friends, with students, and with other musicians.

On work and witness trips to Peru (1998 and 1999) I learned what the real meaning of poverty is. The smell of burning trash & diesel and is carved into my memory forever. The sight of millions of tiny shacks, barely hanging onto the side of a mountain foothill changed my mind about what I "need" in life. Witnessing a homeless mother come into a restaurant, begging for our scraps of goat meat, the same meat that I couldn't eat because I didn't like the taste of it, and then moments later watching her give those scraps to her four hollow-eyed, emaciated, young children. They didn't care what it tasted like. It nourished them. My perspective about priorities and what is important in life was drastically changed on these trips.

My trips with Clark Montessori's Steel Bands are very memorable. I travelled with them to South Carolina twice and to Minneapolis once, performing with and growing closer with all of the students. What cool kids! What fun trips and fond memories!

My journey to Trinidad in 2002 was a cultural eye opener. I went to down to play in Panorama - the yearly national steel drum band festival, an event as synonymous with Trinidadian culture as the Superbowl is with American culture. Trinidad is a true melting pot, made up of descendants of original natives of the island, as well as those with Asian, eastern Indian, African, and European heritage. They are passionate about their music and spend a long time learning it by rote, not using any form of writing musical notation at all. The people are so welcoming and warm. The food - fantastic! I'd love to have some shark n' bake right now! The environment was beautiful and the experience intense.

In the summer of 2003 I saw a lot of the US by car, from the southern Pacific coast to northern Atlantic coast, in under 3 weeks. It began with an ever peaceful, very unplanned, hippie-style road trip from Ohio to the Acadia National Park in Maine with a cherished friend and mentor - Kevin. The east coast was never a place I really found interest in, but this trip changed my mind. Between large cities like Boston, Philadelphia and New York with their museums and histories, and the jagged, rocky coastlines lined with tall evergreens spotted with quaint coastal villages with sailboats jetting out of the water, and then stumbling upon Asticou Azalea Garden, a Rockefeller project... what is not to love about the eastern coast? I would love to take that trip again. Not a day after I arrived home from my mental unwind, I took off again. I flew out to Laguna Beach, CA to help my good friend Diana move the rest of her family's belongings back to Ohio, planning only on stopping in Santa Fe, New Mexico to see the art. We managed to get a flat tire just as we arrived in Santa Fe. By the time we got the tire fixed, the galleries were closed. We were traveling the distance with a Zeek, a golden retriever, and two zany cats. We sang a lot of folk music on our trip, and I learned about singer/songwriters like John Prine, Steve Goodman and Fred Holstein. Fun trip...

In 2004, I spent five weeks on a 35' sail boat with a friend of mine name Georg, sailing the Baltic Sea, harboring on small German, Danish, and Swedish islands and in coastal villages, and taking short day hikes on some of the smaller islands. The sights were like nothing I'd seen in the states - absolutely breathtaking, but the strength that I realized I had in me or gained - physical, mental, and emotional was what I learned most about on that trip. I gave a solo recital on the Danish island of Langeland. It was a standing-room only performance and I felt extremely welcome and appreciated. I have such sharp memories of this trip. The way the sea air felt, the long days and short nights, with their gorgeous sunrises and colorful sunsets. Seeing German submarines, and being dive bombed by some military aircraft...

Meandering cobblestone streets,looking at the multi-colored homes that looked so inviting... Cooking every night in the galley kitchen, which meant being creative and not using too many pots, as well as eating fresh!! I ate chocolate all day long, and thanks to keeping my balance on the boat all day and night, and the time I spent at the helm, I didn't even gain weight. In fact, I lost 25 pounds! Sailing is a lifestyle that I could have gotten used to -- all of that exercise and fresh air, beauty all around, time to think, time to write.

It was so peaceful. I took so many photos on that trip. There were also moments that terrified me - like during thunderstorms (an aluminum mast towering above my head wasn't comforting!) or when a storm was brewing and the waves were much higher than the boat - while we were at sea. Being at the helm when Georg was up on the mast, pulling in sail and the waves tossing us all over the place.... I've never been so terrified and then later electrified at the same time. I'm thankful for my friendship with Georg. He's a unique individual who has good taste, appreciates music and the flute, has a generous spirit, and like me, has a need to cut his own pathway through life.

All of life's experiences and connections, from the day-to-day to the monumental ones, offer me sources of inspiration to draw upon. Finding meaning and awe in the little moments in life are sometimes more inspiring than some of the bigger ones. When I play music or write new music, these memories and experiences are the inspirational gems that I often have close at hand.

Gifts from Above

Why did I stop keeping my camera with me?

On my twisty country drive towards the inner-city at 7am this morning, I was given a beautiful gift. It was still dark as I meandered through the curves of RT 123. I curved along until I was directed east. The sky was ablaze. The entire horizon was a shocking orange with a hint of fuchsia, with only the black contrast of a distant tree line in front of it. It was stunning and gave me a glorious feeling. A picture perfect scene, and I had no camera. I may get into the habit of carrying it with me 24/7 again. Maybe I could paint it..... while it's still fresh in my mind.

In the Present, Finding Happiness in the Journey

I live in the present,

Keenly aware of depth of sight, sounds, textures, colors, my moods, my thoughts, my smallness in this universe, and my purpose in this universe,

Finding it's in the little things that I find beauty - a smile, a glance, the feel of a fabric, the crunch of a leaf, the color of the sky, being appreciated and also in appreciating,

Staying connected to my roots, but at the same time allowing myself the room and freedom to branch out and to grow,

Taking time each day for solitude, to be totally alone, to just breathe, to just be, and to remind myself that I am not completed by any another human being, but that I come to my relationships a complete, though ever changing individual,

Remembering that I am a daughter, a sister, a niece, a granddaughter, a cousin, a wife, a friend, a teacher, a colleague, an entertainer - each role giving me unique opportunities and diverse responsibilities,

Recognizing that while no life is perfect, I have much to be thankful for, while I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, a job, a family and clothes on my back, others are not as fortunate and are hungry, cold, naked, feel completely alone in life, and are without hope,

Understanding that I have seen real poverty, though I have not experienced it, I am mindful of how I use the resources that I have been given,

Reflecting on my past experiences, my personal teacher, brings me renewed strength and remind me that change and growth are cyclical like the seasons, and that in beauty there can be pain and in pain there can be beauty,

Believing that while I may be able to try have influence over a situation, things will be as they will be in their right time, as if I am living in a story that is already written and time is of no significance. I can choose to accept this or I can opt to fight it, causing me additional unfulfillment, pain, anxiety or sorrow.

I take risks and opportunities when they come my way, valuing them as opportunities to learn, to grow, to change...

I choose to find beauty and fulfillment in the day to day simple living, in what my natural world offers me, in the relationships that I am blessed to have, and in the work that I have been given to do.

This is how I choose to live in the present.

I'm thankful for my friend who keeps me reflecting about why and how I do it. This was a valuable tool for me. Hopefully this will be valuable for you.

Early Morning Ramblings

Strange dreams last night. Recording some sort of music/non-music work. Music format, with multiple movements, different people involved, but more or less just breathing? Snoring? There were good takes that I was happy with... I don't know. It was definitely strange. I woke with a sense of peace and an extremely clear mind.

I woke an entire hour before the first alarm went off, on a day when I didn't even have to get up with any one of my husband's 4, yes 4, alarms. I am on Thanksgiving break from my school job and usual 5:45 rude awakening. Rather than try and force myself back to the land of strange dreams and two warm and fuzzy, softly purring cats cradling my head, I opted to get up and get a few things accomplished. I'm not a morning person at all, but this morning, I was somehow a super morning person. All before 7am, when I finally coaxed my hubby out of bed with breakfast (something I never prepare), I managed to change out the laundry, take out the recycling, take a brisk walk on the treadmill while reading part of a Hermann Hesse novel, take a ride on the elliptical machine, do about 30 minutes of pilates, and walk around the back yard and appreciate all of the glorious stars above (being somewhat near the country, there are fewer city lights here). And they were quite spectacular this morning, twinkling ever so softly against the near black sky. It is cold this morning, frost on the ground and cars, but somehow my appreciation and awe kept my mind off of the coldness my fingers were feeling. I remembered a thought that a friend once shared with me, when he was talking about perspective. He told me to consider one grain of sand. And then, to consider how small that one grain of sand is in the entire universe, which I cannot begin to comprehend the vastness of. And then to consider where I fit into that picture. Wow!

And yet, for the very brief time that I exist on this planet, I have purpose.

It is going to be an excellent day... a few private lessons, a lunch date with a friend, a meander though a bookstore with a gift card to burn, and a little holiday shopping. Hopefully, tonight I will get back to work in the living room. I want to have that room done by Christmas! We're supposed to host a party on Dec 2. I don't think that it will be finished by then...still have painting to do, floors to do a final sanding on and to polyurethane, and get some trim work back up. I'll conquer the redesign of the fireplace mantel and surround after the holidays -- I'd like to see copper tiles around it! Maybe a Christmas miracle will happen!

Dark Beauty …. Soul in Metamorphosis

Dark Beauty ...Soul in Metamorphosis
Jamie M. Denson aka Evelin Moonliv

Here she’s traveled
through dark emotions,
twisted valleys,
at the face of contradiction and choice,
at the base of crossroads,
facing challenges and opportunities,
straddling conventional boundaries,
being tempted to stretch and break free,
taking position and conviction,
learning what doesn’t kill strengthens,
revealing the hidden mysteries
of the quiet,
but sometimes howling power.

Looking deeply
into positive purpose
of darker travels,
issues of the body and beauty,
having seen the light glowing,
luminously capturing your attention,
captivating you to look always deeper,
to appreciate the gifts she brings.

Gifts of quiet power.
Strong wisdom.
Transformation.
Honor now the cycles, stages, phases.
The sun does not change.
Oh how it shines continuously,
for all to reap and laze
in its warm,

Bright Beauty.
Ahh, but the cool, Dark Beauty
is like the moon.
She brings growth
deep within.
She goes ..
through cycles, stages, and changes,
like phases of butterfly from cocoon.

Out of the darkness
and captive incubation,
metamorphosis reveals
its many splendors
of Dark Beauty.

Like the butterfly’s complex
and colorful spots of wisdom
come to light,
on the dark canvas wings

Dark Beauty is content
with its numerous shades
and speckled markings
life has gifted it with.
She has transitioned,
and transcended
the darkness,
embraced and honored it,
nourished and regenerated
from its solace.

From the inner most depths
of its being,
cultivated and grown
Now it is free,
lovely,
and abundantly
full of color
Until the next change emerges,
so it is Dark Beauty.

--© Jamie M Denson 2005 and beyond
aka Evelin Moonliv
aka Moonspirit
may be circulated with full signature
jm1denson@msn.com

Silence, like a soft, warm blanket...

My only need sometimes is silence...
Silence which creates an blank canvas for my thoughts to paint upon.
Silence which calms my husband long enough to really see and hear me.
Silence, like a soft, warm blanket or hot cup of tea, brings peace and comfort to my already too noisy mind.

My days are filled with music, with the voices of students yelling in the hallways of an inner-city, performing arts school, with the constant irritating hum of the television or computer, from the time my husband gets home until late when we finally go to bed - streaming with podcasts, audio, or video - his source of comfort and amusement. My mind needs a rest from the bombardment of images and noises.

But then there are sounds which I don't really mind, like now, when I have have music playing very quietly, barely there - Bach's Goldberg variations played by Glenn Gould on the piano. The only other sound in the room is the loud hum of one very content cat snuggled up beside me. He loves music, especially Bach. It relaxes him. It relaxes me.

I needed a little peace and near-Silence before I got this day started. Time to just be, to just breathe. Time to appreciate the way the sunlight filters into the bedroom and the way my toes feel in against the warm, soft cotton sheets.

Memory Loss

I wanted so much to remember --
The shape of the face, the eyes....
Eyes, the color of the softest, mid-morning sky on a cloudless day.
My mind tells me what to remember, but only in words.
The image fades like a white lily in the August heat.
I remember the voice, the conversations, the mannerisms, the tall, thin body...
The face is a blur.

Why does my memory lose the sharpness of images that I want so much to keep?
And the images that I want most to forget are etched onto my mind's walls, never fading, permanently residing .

Delicate Beauty 2

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak
Butterfly Sanctuary
Cox Arboretum
Dayton, OH
2004

Delicate Beauty 1

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak
Butterfly Sanctuary
Cox Arboretum
Dayton, OH
2004

Asticou Azalea Garden 3

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak
Asticou Azalea Garden
Bar Harbor, Maine
2003

Asticou Azalea Garden 2

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak
Asticou Azalea Garden
Bar Harbor, Maine
2003

Asticou Azalea Garden 1

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak
Asticou Azalea Garden
Bar Harbor, Maine
2003

Peony

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak
Peony 1
Neuenkirchen, Germany
2004

Dahlonega, Georgia

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak
Dahlonega Falls State Park, GA
2006

Seeing Eye to Eye

The eyes speak volumes.

In them, we may read fear, hope, joy, ecstasy and passion, courage, pain, isolation, love, confidence, curiosity, shame and guilt, trust or lack thereof, anger, self-doubt, friendship, hope, despair, etc.

What happens when we really meet someone eye to eye? The eye of a stranger on the street? A new acquaintance? A child? A spouse? A parent? A grandparent? A homeless person?

We speak with our eyes on a daily basis; across the room, across the street, across the bed.

What is spoken? An honesty, a truth, a vulnerability? Two powerful messages are exchanged, just with a single look. All it takes is a second. And then there are those glances that last an eternity - sometimes because we don't want them to end, sometimes because we fear their end.

It's in the eyes that we have entry to the soul. Permitted to or not, we are able to see deep inside another, and just through the eyes we can gain a sense of who they are.

"Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other's eyes for an instant?"
Henry David Thoreau

Some eyes are unforgettable. Circumstance? Hue? Others, just for being a conduit to catch the extreme beauty of a person's inner-spirit.

Lesson Learned...

Each of us come into this world with certain gifts.
We offer them to the people we come to understand our gifts were intended.
They have three choices.
They can accept them fully.
They can accept them at a surface level.
They can reject them and lose the opportunity for growth.
I have no control over their choice.
All I can do is offer my gift.
That's all I can do.

World Wide Web

My life is like a spider web, full of thousands of connections that start in the center and grow outward. It's a web that spans the whole globe. Some of the connections overlap; some are friends, some are work-related, some serve both roles. Once every other month or so, I stop to ponder the life's web, the amazing network of people and experiences that keep growing and keep me growing.... and how they are all connected. And my web is multi-dimensional, multi-faceted. There are multiple sides to my network, even though some of the networks still weave in and out of each other.

In thinking about why I am sitting here in Tulsa, Oklahoma, on this chilly day, I am reminded of all of my connections. Starting at the edge, and going towards the center, my musical connection with John was my immediate reason for coming here. He recommended me for the job. And John and I have another musical colleague to thank for our connection, as we both helped her out, and came to meet, by working in her new coffee shop in Cincinnati - John had just moved down from Michigan. And I met that colleague in another orchestra that I play in. I wouldn't have been playing in that orchestra if it hadn't been for the encouragement of a certain oboist who said I should take the audition (when I was 18). I wouldn't have met that oboist if I hadn't gone to Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music (CCM). And I wouldn't have been at CCM if I hadn't had the fabulous coaching from Becky Andres, Jack Wellbaum, Brenda Parks and the countless other music teachers and directors that encouraged and advised along the way. And I wouldn't have met any of them if my parents hadn't encouraged me to take up an instrument when I was nine, or if I hadn't heard Brenda Parks playing a solo during a service in the church where I was raised. I try not to forget any of these people, as I really am thankful for their voices in my life and for the purpose which they have served. This web of people is but a small example. This was only from one exact point in my life to another exact point. There are hundreds of these that I could write about.

I wonder where will the web lead from this point? I have met so many warm and affectionate people here, folks that I would maybe consider friends already. I'm already looking forward to my next trip back and am a little bit sad to leave on Monday. I am enjoying myself. I will miss my new acquaintances: Nan, Sheri, Suzie, Jerry, and Nathan. Thanks to them for making me feel welcomed and for the various conversations.

I met a wonderful woman yesterday. I went for massage, something that I promised myself before I left home. While I have a little extra time off, and since I've had some shoulder/neck pain, it was a good idea - a little body and soul maintenance. I wasn't looking for a fluffy massage, like one gets at a spa, though they have their purpose too, I needed to work on a deeper, multi-dimensional level. I wanted a massage practitioner who was into the holistic arts. I did a little research before I left, but with little success. Long story short (thank goodness, huh?), I was led to Jamie Denson. She does massage work, Reiki, and other holistic arts. I recognize that often times physical pains can be manifested by emotional stress, and so I chose this pathway of healing over a regular massage. After a session of massage, warm stones, calming aromatherapies and Native American flute music, Reiki & Native American techniques, and stimulating conversation, by the end of my session, I had regained mobility in my shoulders and neck, felt less pain, and felt much lighter, and much more free. My energy is back. I'm thankful. I look forward to staying in touch with Jamie. She and I share many commonalities and she was a joy to talk to and learn from.

I'm feeling rested, relaxed, renewed and enlightened. I'm thankful for my web and it's ever-expanding network.

Through Middle Eastern Eyes

When I think of the Middle East, certain things come to me instantly: well spiced, very yummy foods, exotic, hypnotic music, and several good friends from college, that is, besides the obvious war in Iraq, which somehow feels very distant.

As stated in an early post, I am reading a book by Nuha Al-Radi called Baghdad Diaries: A Woman's Chronicle of War and Exile. It's a simply written book, a journal really, about the daily living in Baghdad during the first Iraqi War. It's a book that I picked up some months ago at a bookstore which was closing. It seemed interesting enough and being a woman, I was interested in understanding further how women, and in this case, Nuha Al-Radi live in Iraq, particularly in a time of war.

There's a certain amount of detachment that I sense in her words, which quite surprise me. Many of the pages are descriptions of day to day living, but cause me to consider how different her life must be from mine. She and her family were lulled to sleep not by music or a television, as the electrical infrastructure had been destroyed by our bombs and missiles, but to the sound of the US trying to take out their bridges and factories. Having no electricity meant that they lost their systems of refrigeration, lighting, pumping for sewage and water systems, and power to be informed through radio or television. Few had generators.

Their style of living changed, as they had to cook in new ways, often using their fireplaces. Not being able to use running water or toilets, they shared the same grassy areas that their pets and wild dogs used. The petrol had to be conserved, usually to check on family once a week or to buy necessary supplies. Families were out of touch with each other for weeks, particularly if they lived on opposite sides of the city - there were no phone lines. People never knew if their mothers and fathers or aunts and uncles were still alive. Homes were destroyed when our bombs missed their designated targets and sometimes even bomb shelters which housed entire families were hit, killing multiple entire families. I can't fathom losing my entire family at once. I'm maybe one-third of the way through the book and her family and friends, who once kept their sense of hope and humor about them, now sound without hope.

I tried to imagine what life would be like if the war was on our soil. Millions of people, who are innocent, suddenly live vastly different lives. How would we do? We're so used to our Starbucks drive thrus, the conveniences of running to get something whenever we need it, and truly living luxurious lives by most of the world's standards. And we haven't had to ration anything since WWII. It was a different time then, one where people were savers anyway. Our society has changed a lot since the days of saving everything for the "war effort". How about now?

It's a shame that so much death and destruction is caused, and affects those who really have nothing to do with the conflict that can't be resolved peacefully. How is peace, or better yet, democracy achieved in this way? Isn't democracy more of a process? Ours is every changing. My question is this... How can democracy be forced upon another country? Our democratic government has been a slow and ever-evolving process, one where the people help make choices. And, the people, when forming this country decided, for themselves, that this was what they wanted. Is democracy for everyone? It's certainly a question that I don't have the answer to, but I wonder in times like these, when so many lives are lost and so many families destroyed, and people are marking their territory in the garden next to their pets, is life better for them? The amount of money spent in forcing democracy on another country, the resources which have been wasted, the devastation to the environment, and to lives seems like a waste. What price is too high? Is there one?

I will admit, I was never in favor of this war. I even went to a few protests. It seemed like a bad idea to me. But, after having read this book, and seeing the destruction and pain through the eyes of a typical civilian gave me a new empathy towards those suffering through our bombs and blackened skies. And here I sit, with lighting overhead, an air conditioner keeping me cool, communicating my thoughts freely on a laptop, with no real concern for anything other than what I should wear to rehearsal tonight, I feel hopeless. My mind has been altered. I feel guilty that I live too good, not luxurious by American standards, but certainly by more than half of the world's population.

Viewing life through others' eyes keeps me in check sometimes. When I traveled to Peru, I really learned what poverty meant and I lived simply and conservatively while I was there. I came home a changed person, and also feeling so filthy that my people have so much and use up so many resources, when I knew the loving people that I met in Peru barely survive and have so little.

I don't have an answer. Life seems so unfair, and the world so unbalanced.

Grub at the Pub and Good Conversation

One last thing...

Making new friends is a wonderful thing. New conversation, new ideas, new stories and histories are fascinating. People should try it more often.

Thank you John and Nathan for the company and conversation this evening at the pub. It was an enlightening ending to an already enlightening day. May we have many more evenings of chatter and cheer to come!

Quiet Solitude

Soft breeze, cloudless sky, warmth of the golden sun on my shoulders....

As I meandered around on the campus of Oral Roberts University (ORU) this morning, I felt a quiet, peaceful energy surround me. I was in search of a bench to rest for an hour or so, and found a weathered, once painted blue, wooden bench in the middle of a garden area. I took it, as it was the first one I found, and I wanted to disappear into the texture of the garden, feeling as though I was invisible to the others walking about.

At first, I sat and searched for the perfect music on the I-pod, a piece or song to accompany my serene mood. I sensed a spiritual presence with me. I settled on Brahms' Eines Deutches Requiem (German Requiem). Being a requiem, it has a strong spiritual undertone. I listened with my eyes closed for a long time, almost in a meditative state, not really thinking about anything. (That was a miracle in itself, as I have a difficult time turning my thoughts off.) When I opened my eyes, I realized that the worn bench that I chose placed me directly in front of a stunning butterfly garden, full of yellow and orange brown-eyed susans and other butterfly attracting flowers. And amid those happy little flowers, there were maybe 20-30 butterflies. Some, wings wide open, were sunning themselves. Others seemed to be pairing up together on other flowers. The mix of colors was symphonic, a melding of various hues and textures of the butterflies patterns, with the even bolder colors and jagged textures of the flowers.

It reminded me of home. My own butterfly garden, now dead with the first frost of last week's cold spell, kept me spellbound from the first planting in early spring until just weeks ago as I watch the butterflies diminish in numbers. How I loved to steal a few moments of everyday, checking in on the winged creatures that inhabited my little garden. It was the first year I tried to attract butterflies.....and they came....and came - all shapes and sizes. They fascinate me. They are so delicate, and they flirt! I would run in and grab my camera, quietly sneak up on one as it was hanging out on the butterfly bush, and just as I was about to snap a shot, it would flight straight at my face and all around me and then up and over the house. My patience tested, I waited. It would come back, and again....taunt and tease me and finally permit me to take it's photo. They are so beautiful. One windy day, a Monarch had gotten trapped in a spider web near the downspout. I had to rescue it. It would have been a shame for such beauty to be the dinner of a lonely spider.

As I enjoyed the butterfly garden of ORU, the carolan bells chimed a hymn that my mother sang to me in my early childhood. My mind wandered back to that tiny house on Lilydale Lane, our first house. I must have been 4 or 5. Every word of the song was present, though the carolan only provided the melody. I could hear my mom's quiet voice singing to me. And I remembered how I felt, as she would tuck me in for the night, softly singing me to sleep with several of her favorite hymns and an occasional Paul Simon song. It was sweet to journey back in time for a few moments today.

Occasionally I need a reminding of my mom's love. Though we live only 30 minutes from each other, sometimes she feels distant and too busy to reconnect. Life gets busy for the both of us. We don't talk as much as I'd like and I miss staying in touch and really sharing who we are and who we become with each other. We say I love you often, but I miss doing little things for each other. I used to play her songs or help in the kitchen. She would brush my hair and massage away the tension in my shoulders from having practiced my flute too much. I couldn't have gotten through high school or college without her support. She's been my guardian angel over the years, a statement that many in my family and many of her colleagues would most likely say as well. She's a gem. I'm lucky she's my mom.

Seems my blogging tonight is proving to be some sort of therapy, as my eyes have been leaking and my face is all wet. Sometimes I need days like to day to remind me of what is meaningful and good in my life. I'm thankful that I was in the right place at the right time to have had all of those elements create the right frame of mind and pull that memory to the front of my mind.

Mom, if you read this.... I love you. Thanks for putting up with me. Thanks for being there for me in the times of challenge and growth and for fun times too. You're a remarkable woman. I will be happy if I can be half the woman that you are.

And with that.... I shall sign off. It was a good day.

Words

I've spent a good bit of time this week listening to non-symphonic music, everything from jazz to hypnotic classical Indian, and Celtic to new pop/folk. And in particular to music with words. I've spent some time thinking about how they directly affect the tone of a song.

When I play Celtic music, more often than not, the music is in a minor or minor-sounding modes (like Dorian), but the rhythms and lyrics can turn those sad sounding notes and scales into something jovial and rowdy, or light and cheery, often making one want to dance. On the flip side, some of the songs that I've listened to this week have very peaceful and happy sounding melodies in major keys, but the words put on top of those melodies really create a whole new feel, sometimes not so jovial.

A friend and former colleague of mine, Chris Collier (www.chriscollier.com), is a folk singer in the Cincinnati area. Her words are authentically genuine and share pure-at-heart stories, making me laugh, smile, and cry. Her words are able to reach right through to my heart, tapping into my own life's experiences, raw emotions, and attachments to people. Vienna Teng (www.viennateng.com), a crossover classical to pop musician, inspires me with her simple melodic lines, soft, almost child-like voice of innocence, and the powerful poetry she uses to make her statements and share her feelings. Again, another musician whose words have reached into the center of my soul.

From Vienna Teng's song "Eric's Song", sung in almost a whisper of a voice with a gentle, soft melody, piano accompanying:

Strange how certain the journey.
Time unfolds the petals for our eyes to see.
Strange how this journey's hurting,
in ways we accept as part of fate's decree.

So we just hold on fast,
acknowledge the past
as lessons exquisitely crafted,
painstakingly drafted
to carve us as instruments
that play the music of life.
For we don't realize
our faith in the prize
unless it's been somehow elusive.
How swiftly we choose it
the sacred simplicity
of you at my side.

A snippet from Chris Collier's "Let's Just Have tonight," an almost waltz sounding folk ballad, with guitar accompaniment. (The whole song is great. This is just my favorite part.)

I have wanted this moment for so long.
Can you feel what stirs inside of me?
Step to the music, that has no origin or song.
Without a tune, we're free just to be.

What song lyrics do you allow to reach the depths of your soul and spirit? What is it about those lyrics that find their way inside?

Words to Travel By...

A Few Quotes for the Journey....

A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.
~Lao Tzu

Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness.
~Ray Bradbury

The traveler sees what he sees. The tourist sees what he has come to see.
~G.K. Chesterton

Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.
~Seneca

The longest journey of any person is the journey inward.
~ Dag Hammerskjvld

A journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.
~ John Steinbeck

Of journeying the benefits are many: the freshness it bringeth to the heart, the seeing and hearing of marvelous things, the delight of beholding new cities, the meeting of unknown friends, and the learning of high manners.
~ Muslih-uddin Sadi

Each of us is here for a brief sojourn; for what purpose he knows not, though he senses it. But without deeper reflection one knows from daily life that one exists for other people.
~ Albert Einstein

Between the Clouds...

I'm in Tulsa and am finding time to rest, play flute duets, cook karahi chicken (a spicy Pakistani dish), tour university campuses, read (Baghdad Diaries by Nuha Al-Radi), and play with a new symphony. In short, I'm enjoying myself immensely.

For me, the journey is so much more exciting than the destination. I love the people watching at the airports and how I always seem to run into someone I've met before on my travels. As I was sitting in Chicago O'Hare, waiting for my flight to Tulsa, I faced a woman with hollow eyes, darkish short hair and a face that I had, at one time, seen on a regular basis. My mind, over and over, tried to put the face in a familiar location - Was she a musician? Was she the parent of a former student? Was she someone that my parents knew? Did I grow up knowing her? Had I performed at her church? All of these questions bombarded my brain as I sat patiently waiting to board my flight. After a quarter of an hour of pondering and staring, I finally just walked over to her and probed a bit. We finally came to realize that I knew her from a Unitarian church I used to attend. My hair being a different color and much longer then, threw her off. She was able to update me on the new hobby of an absent friend of mine. Yes, I could see Kevin trying contra dancing! He'd try anything - one of the things I love about him! And so, It happens every time I travel, even when I've gone to other countries. I always run into someone from my past. And then I wonder, what was the purpose of running into them at that particular point in time?

The flight which I was waiting for turned out to be one of complete relaxation and awe. I was in a small plane, in a row to myself, sitting next to the window. Once we were up about 22,000 feet, we became the filling of a cloud sandwich. There were billowing clouds below us, and above was another thin, nearly transparent layer. It was breath taking and stunningly bright. The ride was perfectly smooth. We were floating. I was amused.

Tulsa turns out to be much more shapely than I had pictured. It's not the dusty, flat land that I had imagined it to be. There are lots of trees and even hills. It's pretty. The people are friendly and warm. The architecture is a wide mix of styles - Arts and Craft bungalows, Spanish style, Art Deco style, Native American influenced architecture, new condos, The Jetson's-like, modern sky scrapers, and many modern (60s - minimal) homes. I hear that there are several Frank Lloyd Wright buildings in Tulsa. I'd like to see them. Maybe tomorrow.

A Peaceful Pathway

Photography by Amy Roark-Oblak

Great Smokey Mountains National Park

A Place to Roam...

Free spirited.....nomadic....needing to do, to seek, to discover. I want so much to understand the world in which I live, though I don't think the world understands herself. Music has thus far been directly and indirectly my ship which has taken me places around this sphere on which I exist, to see, smell, touch, and emotionally take in the diverse varities of landscapes, people, cuisine, histories, art, and musics. With each place I have experienced, I am amazed at how small I am. The world gets larger and larger as I see more of it. And my perspective of my place in this world gets more and more defined. I thirst to know more, to smell more, to taste more, to hear more and to communicate more with those unlike myself. What inside of me has such a need? Why is this sensation of discovery and exploration so intense? Others are simply content sitting at home, watching reruns of tv shows from days past or playing the same computer game over and over and over.... There is so much to see, to do, to better understand.... And yet not nearly enough time. We are all on this earth a finite amount of days. Why not make each day unique? Trying something new, be it a cuisine, a book, new music, new friend or an new idea? We need not travel to broaden our horizons.

I will be traveling to Oklahoma next week to perform. I'm looking forward to a change of scenery and to making music with some new faces, but also to some time alone to roam with my own thoughts. It's been a while since I've been still or quiet enough to hear them. I wonder what I will discover, what understanding I will gain.

" The quieter you become, the more you are able to hear."
~ Zen saying