Here is there,

When is where,

Space and time are intertwined.

How we seek and what we find,

Are subject to interpretation,

In out heart and in our mind,

Which also can be intertwined,

If we're inclined to notice.

In the vast expanse,

The stars align to form their patterns,

They speak to us of what we know,

And of what we don't, 

Until we do, 

Or begin to. 

Welcome to my space. It is a realm where words can be questionable. Though sometimes they work (for me, anyway). Sometimes they serve that greater purpose of pointing us, carrying us, and depositing us somewhere else. I usually leave that to (and find that in) the music. But I'll take it however and whenever it comes; at the right time, in the right place. 

The little poem above came to (through) me as I was outside looking up. The words reflect where the journey (of my life) has taken, and continues to take me. It is beyond what we know. Greater than we understand. Though, as we loosen our grip on understanding, we can begin to know.   

A few years ago, as I was watching a late-in-life interview of Dave McKenna, my ears (and heart) perked up when he said "As I get older, I consider myself more a song player than a jazz player". Just as strongly as I connected with his playing when I first heard him on the Merv Griffin television show in 1979(?), I connected with his words from a couple of decades or so later. And by connection I mean in the deepest sense, beyond resonation or agreement, more like being joined to, or becoming one with. When he played, I heard it in my soul, I felt it in my soul, like it was already there, just waiting for me to notice. When I heard his words in the interview, it touched that same space. And here's the funny thing about it, and by funny I mean profound. Each of those connections were their own comprehensive events, or better put, moments. The moment is that space where you are connected to everything all at once; not to a process, but to meaning, realization, acknowledgment. Again, like it is already there, just waiting to be noticed. And once you notice that which is waiting to be found, it can become an immediate part of you. No learning, study or further thought is required. It now lives in you, and can inspire continued thought, study or development, just as a seed can grow into a flower or a vegetable or a tree. With this in mind, my first listening encounter to Dave McKenna didn't inspire more listening, rather the exploration (rather intensely) of the new room in the artistic house that just had the light switch activated. So perhaps it would be a surprise to learn that I never much listened to Dave McKenna again for many years. When he touched that place in my soul, or opened the door to that room in my house, it wasn't about him; or perhaps better put, what he could teach me (by listening more). It was about my own explorations, finding and sorting through what was already there, waiting to be found. Now, perhaps it won't be a surprise to learn that when I revisited  Dave McKenna a few decades later, I learned (what was already there, waiting to be found,) that my style had evolved to having some strong similarities to his. But also, unique distinctions. It was/is mine, though unmistakably (at times) inspired by Dave McKenna. Over time I've observed the effect of this inspiration evolve, but it never leaves. Once something is (truly) found, it remains.   

 

 

VBT Bike Tours season (for me) began this week. For a couple of months in the late spring, then again in the early fall, I get to perform a solo piano entertainment show on the closing night of each week's VBT 5 night adventure. Similarly, from 2009 to 2020, I was on the entertainment schedule for American Cruise Lines, performing solo shows as a walk on entertainer, on ships in Chesapeake Bay ports (you'll find some entries on these in previous posts on this blog). For much of that time, most all of the ships were 100 passengers/guests. Similar to Vermont Bike Tours, where I perform in the living room of The Inn at Huntingfield Creek, the "living room" of the cruise ships were their own own kind of intimate space venue, which brought a similar affect to the performance, and the experience of the guests. 

Playing the same venue week after week, but having a completely new audience each time is not the norm for such things. Every once in a (great) while, on the cruise ship or a VBT event, I would see someone who had taken the excursion previously, but usually it's a crowd of fresh faces.  And having to prove yourself to nearly everyone each time (since they don't know you and are suspicious if they are going to like you or not) is its own fun little mountain to climb. And even if the program is the same from week to week, no two shows are (the same). You know me, I can't play anything the same way twice.  ;) 

All these years have taught me the simple "formula": 

1) Consider who you will be playing for (and playing with) as you prepare. 

2) Be present during the performance.

Then everything falls into place. :)

And here's a little bonus/behind the scenes pic:

Hanging out in the kitchen afterward can be just as fun a playing the show. If you are ever visiting the Rock Hall, MD area, you should stay at The Inn at Huntingfield Creek. 

You won't be disappointed.  :)