A Single Idea
Sometimes, it’s merely a single idea, as delicate as baby robins feather, as fragile, as a newly budded rose leaf, as tender, as a late autumn twilight, that keeps a heart, from completely tearing, apart. For me, it is the idea, that I don’t know what is on the next chapter, but to write the current page, as beautifully, as possible. 🎶
Waiting To Be Found
I went into my parents basement, in Thornhill, before their party, and amongst, so many of their possessions, over various storage units, over almost 50 years of marriage, across multiple continents, including, boxes of crystal, piles of books, chests full of linen, I found randomly, a few frames wrapped in paper and tied with jute, and tore them apart, to discover old family portraits, taken in Sydney, Dhaka and Toronto, as despite, the hundreds of things I could have found, they were waiting, in subtle anticipation, to be revealed and placed upon our mantel, to celebrate, our entire family being together, after so long, reminding me that, despite our sense of control, things, just as ideas, have already decided, that will be found, and that our only role is to submit to their will, and remain grateful when they appear. 🎶
the parallels
For every love story you begin, and, for every one you miss, you find the parallel, in the literature, and, the longing, trapped within a song. 🎶 🎶
Meet Me In NYC
I used to think that going into the city, being seen, photographed, and meeting people, at events, was the ultimate path to success, but now I realize, that these, occasional, real life events, are critical, but, they can seldom, replace or match, the power, that generates, from actually doing the work, whether it is writing, or music, itself. 🎶
Silvery, Nectary Quicksand
In retrospect, I’ve realized, that each time I broke my heart, I healed in different ways, once, beginning to write, on a rainy June day in London, another time, diving deeply into a musical realm, in the Arizona desert, then again, floating with the highest butterflies that soar in the misty garden, in Connecticut, and often, when caught in the silver, nectary quicksand of missing: gardening, playing the piano, and writing, until my heart settles for a spell. 🎶
The High Notes
Summer, like the high notes at the piano keys, roses and falling in love, is far too obvious, yet impossible, to forsake. 🎶
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Every leaf that surrenders, in late September, is both ours to see with our eyes, and, feel, with our hearts. 🎶
Cobwebs
The intention must be that whenever someone is in your presence, they become so lost , in the enchantment, that they easily sweep aside, the tear stained, cobwebs of time. 🎶
The Heart And The Mind
In time, one realizes that they can always substitute the word “mind” with the word, “heart”, to make the sentence better. 🎶
Tiny Flower Shoppe
Flowers, though relatively unnecessary in our practical lives, remain indispensable to the soul, their presence alone, alters, the mood, energy and vibrations in a space, and thus, I am excited about this new journey, of selling flowers, to share their healing, magical and enchanting qualities with others. 🐝
Lacey Winds
As much I tell myself how lucky I have been to have an adventurous childhood, growing up, all over the world, in my later adulthood, I am eager to steep, in the cup of constancy, with a garden, and a piano, for as long as I can, until the stirring, lacey winds, scatter me like golden, wildflower seeds, once again. 🎶
The Rules Of The Game
Sometimes, it shocks me what I do like, and follow, and what I don’t, automatically, like a picture of a young blond girl, being young and blond, versus an older musician, playing her keys. How are we supposed to ever break through, until we first know the rules, of the game? 🎶
Music, is created, through, one’s perception of reality, level of awakening, height of consciousness, depth of compassion, and, the boundlessness, of imagination, that no technical education alone can ever, teach. 🎶
Early September
In early September , the garden, rushes forth, headily, maddeningly, wildly, until it almost encroaches, upon your heart, touching it deeply, until it recedes, once again, upon the arrival of the frost. 🎶
Love/Fear
When you love something you fear losing it, and thus the more love you have, the more fear, as well, but since it is impossible to live without love, we must learn to accept the fear, while loving, even more deeply, then ever before. 🎶
One can think they deserve, to be lonely, old and sad, or they can write and make music, and decide, that it is a gift, instead. 🎶
