Beth McDonald debuted a new show concept on Saturday night March 9, 2013, in a double billed event with me that we titled: "Singing Our Stories". Beth drew back the curtain a bit more on her singer/songwriter side. Well, really she just drew back the curtain. A singer/songwriter is who she is, and always has been. Being the  "jazz singer" was more of her access route to performance, beginning nearly a decade ago; which has now also taken root deep within her. And a love of gospel has always been there. This particular show; at the Garfield Center for the Arts in Chestertown, MD, was a bit of a milestone for us, in the ongoing thread of discovery, and ownership. More on this specific jourey in future blog posts. We posted 3 videos from the show: watch them here. 
Pictured above are Beth, Jeff Davis and myself, on the Garfield stage. Beth and I (often with Jeff, and sometimes with larger groups) will be continuing to present the "Singing our Stories" concert, along with other performances, as we travel this path. Our next Singing our Stories presentation will be at the Cabaret at Germano's, in Baltimore, MD on Friday evening July 19th. Other performance dates will be announced soon. 

The big picture cannot be seen from a single point in the timeline, but can be contemplated, it seems. And it makes sense that intensities merge, in God's perfect order. Two weeks ago, my mother took a sudden downward turn. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease a few years ago, but seemed to be doing well, all things considered. Then, all of a sudden, that Thursday, she was gone. I woke early that morning, well before dawn, as many mornings over the last weeks, with personal explorations limiting my sleep. Tired, vulnerable, but with a deep sense of the positive workings of God in my life, I found myself suddenly in a new place. My mother (of whom I am the only child) was gone. And as it played out, it seemed that the 2 competing intensities were supporting each other. What would be a burden somehow, became balance. And, thru only the specific provisions of God for the time, I was able to perform my gig that evening. And a solo concert on Saturday night. And help my father through the process. And help in providing what became the perfect, and most lovely funeral service. And share in the writing of a song for my mother, played during the service. And understand that, as my mother, I am held in it all.   

In my last post, I felt that I was on to something. And I was, but in perhaps, a blissfully clueless manner. We know what we know, at any given time, which isn't much. The process is both internal and external. And for those of us who actively and consciously engage in it, it can become all consuming; especially for folks like me. I have been criticized (or perhaps better put, chided) by some, that I will, from time to time, share things of a personal nature in my blogs, that people don't need to see (and frankly, don't want to, or much care about). And I am talking about the place where the personal meets the spiritual. And I couldn't disagree more. My entire life, it seems, has been a gradual unfolding of a path  on which I've been placed. And often, when I am closest to feeling that I know where I am, the road turns. Funny thing, though; at those moments, when I am inclined (or better put, compelled) to turn with the road, I find no place to land with my foot, other than directly in front of me. So I step. And I ponder (which is just me, and I accept that) what it all means. And I grow. And I wonder. And then, I know. And what is that (which I know)? That I trust God. "Woah, now", some inclined to chide will say: "This is your opinion, and you can't go there. Within yourself, fine, but not in some blog about your music career, where people want to know things that they care about, like your music - not to have religion thrown in their face". Really? What religion (Where? And who said anything about that?)? And what DO people really care about? Well, since I am a person, let me begin there (here). I care about meaning. I care about connecting the dots; about not wandering around (or falling into) a black hole. I care about how deeply something can go, and once understood, what lies beyond that. I care about touching places within myself, and the places that are touched within others, as a result. I care about, ultimately, that which I have no way of knowing; no way of understanding through my rational mind (alone). My mind will not rest; so much so that it will hurl me down into that black hole (seeing an image now of the final scene from the initial Star Wars movie, in which Darth Vader ultimately finds his redemption), until it touches my soul. And is that just me? Or, is this the human condition, and the struggle of all cultures, and all human perceptions, throughout history, and humanity? If your answer is the first of the two, then you likely have left already (so ... bye). If you are still here, then, like me, you acknowledge something. And right now, that's probably all that needs to be said.