Moments, Memories & Jazz site is my “home” on the internet.
Thanks again for stopping by. To read a little about me and to see how cute I was at around the age of two, please visit my ABOUT page – just click here. If you are interested in reading more about the freelance songwriting services I offer – then click here. Even if you are visiting on your phone, at the bottom of this page is a link to “FULL SITE” you can click there to see my latest posts.
-Laurie
The new year has begun and I am aiming to rededicate myself to writing more in 2025. I will start with the rambling post below that I began drafting last month. I thought the theme would be KNOTS, as I sometimes visualize problems as knots to be untied, mental knots instead of roadblocks, so my post focuses on that a little. But, I changed the title as I now choose to focus on staying positive in a stressful world, opening my mind to new information and ideas, and simplifying my life as much as I can.
Wishing you all a successful year ahead, however, you define that for yourself.
My hands are a mess! My cat has mistaken them for a play thing and left a few scars then I accidently scraped my left knuckles on a wall. They are healed now but, ouch, not fun. And, I still have ink residue that will just not wash away easily.
Recently, I had to deal with a river of black ink that was leaking from what I believe was a misaligned cartridge in my big, cumbersome, Epson printer/copier/scanner. I found several suggested repairs on YouTube, none of which seem to apply to my situation, and by the end of my attempts, I had thoroughly stained hands, and my spirit of adventure was gone.
The stains remained for days in a few areas of my cuticles, just enough to remind me that this exercise in futility broke me for a short time. I will admit I had a few tearful moments as I realized that this was not my forte.
After finding an easy way to print on a self-serve machine at a local printshop (I just had to email them my documents and copy down an access code) I decided to let the printer go. I am going to put it out on the sidewalk with a sign that will read something like: “I am free, but I have a leak that needs to be cleaned up. Overall I’m a very good printer and I have a full store of all four colors of ink. Please rescue me and give me a second chance to print again.”
So, even though I didn’t learn how to repair a printer, I did learn that there are other ways to get things done. I learned that being gentle to my now arthritic back is more important that fixing a machine that is way too heavy for me to manage on my own. It is realizing that I’m really just one person and I shouldn’t be doing things like this that stress me out when there are viable alternatives.
While on the phone with my older daughter, I grabbed a random piece of cotton-linen-bamboo thread I had laying about. A scrap from a crocheted shell style top I made over the summer. I took this short piece of thread and tried the technique outlined in the video. I turned my efforts into a little circle, which magically fit perfectly on my pinkie finger. So now I can look down at my hand and remember:
1. that I was ink-stained because I would not let something outdated go
2. discarded scraps can be made into something meaningful and thought provoking,
3. small creative ideas/techniques can have a big impact around the world, and,
4. there’s always something new to learn.
FURTHER KNOTTY REFERENCES: The almighty YouTube algorithm suggested a video describing the lost art of knotting. https://youtu.be/fcvjQZzoLwI?si=RSnRCXA6DcpcMoZo. I had never heard of it, but had experimented when I was a child with a similar technique using long blades of grass. So now I am fully informed that this threadwork has a historical context. Not only is it an 18th century European craft (circumscribed by tatting and crochet), in the comments of the video I learned that it was also a Native American and Puerto Rican craft. I did a quick Internet search and found more global references of using knots as textile embellishment including ancient Egypt and China, and I’m sure there are many other examples. Here is a nice overview from the Sidney Herald: https://www.sidneyherald.com/the-origins-and-history-of-knotting-tatting/article_cfe4e812-4d44-5c5e-bab1-ada38b77402c.html
Combining knots and new ideas, and tapping into my biological Viking heritage, I have planned for some lucet fork cord-making as a new skill for 2025. If I create anything interesting, I will certainly post about it here.
One of the tunes I loved to hear Barry Harris play live was Neal Hefti’s “Repetition”. As soon as I would hear Barry play the intro, a feeling of happiness would envelope me. There was something about that piece that brought me a sense of hopefulness and optimism. Perhaps I could hear the concept of repetition, doing something again and again—but skewed with a belief that repeating something just might be even more satisfying than the first or second or fortieth time.
I’m not trying to be too deep about it, but that piece really resonated with me. Of course there are recordings, but nothing is the same as hearing him play in the moment. A feeling of joy emanated from him, always the same yet always different, and that is the nature of jazz. This was true no matter what country or venue he performed in. I miss that so much.
My life right now does not include much live jazz, not much travel outside of my neighborhood, and not much of my musical life from before the pandemic remains. As I focus on starting this new phase on my own, I find myself drawn to quiet, more mindfulness-like activities at home: collage, bookbinding, painting, crocheting, sewing, and knitting.
I just completed a mitered square throw in garter stitch which brought me a lot of comfort as I was knitting it. It was an easy pattern that I didn’t have to think about very much. No real counting involved, I could just focus on forming each stitch, and on every other row, reducing the center to ultimately form a lovely connected square. This process allowed me to think about other things and that was very healing.
Yes, it was a very quiet creation, just the clicking of my metal needles. As I watched each stitch form and drop from my left needle, I saw how it linked to the row below. I watched how these individual stitches became fabric—flexible, warm, and soothing to touch. I marveled at how each stitch done “in the now” became part of a larger whole. Repetition, but as I used variegated yarn, I never got the same stitch twice, and as I added squares, I could never predict if the new square would be similar to the ones surrounding it, or look totally different. I had no control over the overall pattern. I had to let go of the physical outcome and trust that no matter what it looked like, it would be a warm, comforting reminder of my grieving process, no matter how the squares looked next to each other in the end.
I would like to think my knitting is improving with each repetition but in some ways I’m still a beginner even though I’ve been knitting for most of my life. I feel like a beginner now in many ways.
It’s time to stretch out into more complicated patterns and take a risk on stitches I’m not familiar with. And maybe if I focus on making each stitch better than the last, the fabric, and what I ultimately everything create in my life, will be beautiful, flexible and comforting, to me and hopefully to others.
As I face the upcoming anniversary of the sudden passing of my husband, Derrick, I realize that I have not been writing as much as I used to, and writing is a healing process for me. Therefore, instead of simply adding this anecdote into my daily notebook, I decided to instead share it here on my blog. I haven’t written here in a very long time and I would like to get back into that practice.
My story for today, Sunday, 17th of March 2024, began last Wednesday when I chose to watch a film that randomly popped up in my YouTube feed. The black and white film from 1950 was called “Trio”, a set of three short stories by William Somerset Maugham.
In the background of the opening credits was an extremely intriguing symbol. I paused the film and sketched the bold lines into my daily notebook. Then I didn’t watch the film right away because the symbol was so magnetic to me that I had to find out what it meant. I had a mini-obsession to find out more about it. I went online and I googled it. I also did an image search using my sketch to find a match ultimately discovering it is a Berber symbol from Morocco, but I couldn’t find out what it meant. I couldn’t find a site that listed all the meanings in the way that I usually can, for example—adinkra symbols.
It was late and I wanted to watch the film but then noticed that “Trio” was the second of a trilogy of films, so I didn’t watch it right away. I instead searched for and watched “Quartet”, the first film, also a compilation of his short stories, four of them, with an intro from the author. The symbol was again in the background of the opening credits. I wondered if it had anything to do with the production company, Gainsborough, but ruled that out as they have a totally different branding style. I then suspected it had something to do with the author, but I did not want to spend any more time researching it because I had sewing to do, and I wanted something really cool to watch while I worked; ‘Quartet’ seemed perfect!
I accomplished a lot of needlework as I enjoyed these four entertaining stories. Since it was still early in the evening, I then immediately watched “Trio”. I also enjoyed these three stories very much, and I was going to watch the final film in the trilogy, entitled “Encore”, but I could not find it on YouTube. Disappointed, I put away my sewing project and went to bed.
This morning, very early this morning, 3 AM, I was finishing up the front of my project, (an English paper pieced cushion using hexagons of Kaffe Fassett fabric) and I knew I had about 30-minutes left of sewing to do before I was going to go to bed. So I went on YouTube to see if I could find a cool Arne and Carlos podcast video to listen to, but instead, a 30-minute interview from 1955 featuring Wm Somerset Maugham was suggested to me by the YouTube algorithm. [Link below] These suggestions can often be very annoying, but then there are these random occasions when I am very grateful for the algorithm.
The interview begins with images of Maugham’s property. One of the opening shots is of the Berber symbol, carved into the entranceway. The narrator’s voice immediately answers the question that had been on my mind for three days: “This symbol at the entrance to W. Somerset Maugham‘s villa is a Moorish shield against evil. It appears as an ornament and talisman in such famous books of his as Of Human Bondage, Cakes and Ale and The Moon and Sixpence.”
I was so excited! It is incredibly satisfying to know what this symbol means now! Because I get hooked on things like this, I am now trying to figure out a way to incorporate this fantastic symbol into things that I use every day because, really, who can’t use a symbol that shields against evil?
A thread broke while I was attaching the last row of hexagons and I will admit I shed a little tear when, a few moments later, at the end of the interview, he says, I feel that my life hangs on a thread, and the thread may break any moment.
This was such an inspiring journey of synchronicity, and in trusting that if you have an important question, something that’s important to you, and you wait long enough, an answer will be provided. I hope that this will continue to be the case for me because I have a lot of other questions that I need answers to, just saying.
I saw Derrick’s initials in the alphabetical rows as I took photos for this post ❤️
No single video can capture the personalities and interests of this creative couple, designers who live in a converted train station the the mountains of Norway, but I did especially like this video of daily snapshots from a knitting cruise they hosted last year:
This is not a pity-party post even though it might seem like one. The last two months have been so oppressively hot and I am so much heavier now from pandemic isolation and inactivity. My mind imagines all sorts of wonderful things I could do and then I am sabotaged by my body that seems to say, “rest, rest, rest.” So I have been resting. I am listening. And, deep down, I know what I have to do to regain my spark. Yes, I know what I need to do.
This year many of my loved ones are dealing with difficult health issues. I want to spend time with them all but it is simply not an option—logistical challenges thwart me. Many of my friends have died. I swing back and forth between wanting to talk about them, to write about them, to honor them in some way, and wanting to stay still and quiet and stay in the moment and trust that they know I care about them, even if they are gone now and I will never see them again on this Earth.
Each day I have struggled to gather enough energy to endure random challenges, emotional or physical, including back pain I have activated through my self-neglect. I’m sometimes very tired of myself and my seeming lack of fortitude, but then I forgive myself and focus on any small thing I am able to create or accomplish, even if it is simply to be in the moment and to let go of past losses and future expectations.
But, really, I am not looking for advice or consolation—I have this figured out. So, I am now looking forward to the crisp weather and opportunities to walk outside. I have a plan and can’t wait to enjoy the cool Autumn air as part of it.
And…Good news…I have not had ANY variant of the COVID19 virus. I am so grateful that because of my consistent isolation I have been able to babysit for my grandson and not worry about exposing him at all. I have been fairly confident because I very rarely leave my cave/apartment. I do not expose myself to anyone outside my family “bubble”. I have also been able to engage in a few creative activities and have begun to plan for others. So I am very hopeful my sloth-like life will be a bit more energized soon.
#1: To celebrate my older daughter’s birthday we spent a wonderful afternoon creating water-marbled paper and fabric. We both plan to use what we made in other creative projects. [Side note: I was grateful for the sciatica pillow she had waiting for me at her table.]
#2: I have been grateful for patches of quiet time to create collages and other pieces that explore issues I need to think about on a deeper level. My journals have become my confidants. I adorn them with watercolor and drawings, images and collages. Right now they mark where I am. One day I will look back on them and be able to trace my path forward.
#3: I am reading The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle and learning more about mindfulness and more fully appreciating what I am doing, feeling, and thinking at any given point in this illusion of time.
And, finally…
#4: I have been able to maintain a lovely correspondence with a sponsored child in South America. This pen-pal relationship brings me a lot of joy. [I had planned to include some information about this in a “Random Acts of Correspondence (Part 2)” post I intended to share here last month. But last month is just a blur and I did not finish drafting that piece. My hope is that I will be able to get it published in September—Watch this space! -Laurie.]
I have a new typewriter. I say “new”, but it’s really over 40 years old. I won it on eBay for 30 bucks plus shipping. It’s a Royal Mercury portable typewriter from the 1960s or 70s; not the same as the typewriter I had as a teenager, but it’s bringing back all those same feels. It’s only had one owner before me who had it since his childhood and in his listing he said it was time for him to let it go. I told him I would take very good care of it for him.
I cleaned it last night, and today it took me over four attempts to install a new black ribbon. It seems like this machine had been sitting around in its case for dozens of years, so naturally the old ribbon was dried out. I wonder now if it would have been easier for me if I had chosen to install the black and red ribbon. I think the orientation on those spools would have been more obvious (deep sigh) of course, hindsight is 20/20. I wore gloves, but still got ink everywhere — I have no idea how this happened. I will need to clean the keys again.
I will admit I watched at least three YouTube videos on how to clean sticky keys, the proper way to replace a ribbon, and what cleaning agents to use and/or avoid (NO WD-40! Who knew?). Because I could not find a video with my exact model, the videos really did not help me very much. In fact, UGH! I wound up typing a little hole through my new ribbon because it wasn’t advancing properly on the spool; my error I thought. Then I decided not to follow the instructions on the replacement ribbon which said to insert the spools “star side down”; I flipped them star side up and again threaded the ribbon through all the tiny metal bars and, Voila! Success!
I don’t plan to use this Mercury for letter writing, or for correspondence in general, I bought it to create text for mixed media pieces I’m working on. Nothing fancy, I just needed to be able to type out some phrases whenever I wanted them.
However, buying this typewriter triggered a bunch of writing-related memories for me. I was going to analyze those thoughts in this post until I had to deal with all the technical issues setting the thing up. So, I have written about the set up process instead, lol.
I will say that the courier font reminded me of mail I used to receive as a small child—Poems and stories typed on half sheets of paper: ALL CAPS. These stories arrived in envelopes addressed directly to me, written by my grandfather (Papa). I was always the star character in these stories but sometimes he would include my beloved cat* (which occurs to me now as my cat, Sweetie, who does not seem to feel that well today, has just jumped up and stretched out on the bed next to me.)
Other memories include having to write thank you notes for all of my birthday and holiday gifts. Usually these were cards that contained a five dollar bill. I received them periodically from my Uncle Archie and Aunt Rose; and my Uncle Bob and Aunt Sally. This was my childhood training—if someone sent you a gift or a letter, it was your responsibility to thank them for their thoughtfulness.
Tangentially, I used to listen to Danny Kaye’s album “Mommy Gimme a Drinka Water” orchestrated by the wonderful Gordon Jenkins with music and lyrics by Milton Kaufman. On that album there is a great song called “The Thank You Letter” and it reinforced the idea that you need to thank your Aunt Sally. It also taught me about “Freudian slips” but I digress, if you want to hear it YouTube provides a clear version here:
I have some other thoughts I would like to share about different types of correspondence I enjoy. In the near future I will post and link that content in a “Part 2”.
*I would tell you the name of my childhood cat but for the fear of data-mining. Oh my! This crazy world!
I have been doing a bunch of random things lately and every day seems to slip away very quickly. I never feel like I have accomplished anything or completed everything I wanted to complete.
So, since I was not able to decide on one activity or experience to write about, I decided to share a list of things–in no particular order–to briefly describe some of what’s going on in my life. The funny thing is, after I wrote the list, I can see I actually have gotten some things done and I am generally moving forward. This is very satisfying (insert smile emoji here, lol)
Velvet Moon Music ©1942 Josef Myrow Lyrics ©2013 Laurie Early Stars that sparkle in your eyes once adorned velvet skies 'til twilight gave you its prize Moonbeams float around your hair whisp'ring their love affair I know they left silver there The night's in love with you devoted to your pleasure, but I will steal its treasure The evening flatters you as my heart grows ever more fond and true you're the moon in my darkness So, wrap your arms around me tight soft and light, through the night we'll take a celestial flight Constellations pass us by as we fly, you and I the universe our playground, And, when night lets you go I'll prove that I love you so, (For) I know morning comes too soon please remain, velvet moon.
It may seem strange to post about collages when so many horrible things are going on in Ukraine. Besides making a small donation to an organization assisting there*, and offering up thoughts and prayers for peace, I have not really felt empowered to make any real difference in the resolution of the conflict.
So, in order to keep my focus on the idea of “creation”, I committed my time and energy to a group art project entitled “Februllage”. In my free-time I worked continuously through the month of February to fulfill a promise (to myself) to create 28 collages based on daily prompts.
This creative distraction reminded of other times in my life when outside forces were out of my control and I would sit and meditatively do needlework or other crafts in order to push through it all, to keep my spirit up, to emotionally survive. I don’t remember if I have posted this here before but I like to say: “I’m lucky that many of my defense mechanisms are considered talents.”
Februllage is a collaboration between Edinburgh Collage Collective and the Scandinavian Collage Museum. For 2022 they posted this set of daily collage prompts:
They did not set any other daily parameters but, because I suppose it was not hard enough to spend days trying to find key images and to think of how to best present them, I added additional rules for myself, as a challenge. I decided that all my 28 collages had to be:
If you have not tired of reading about my collages yet, I will tell you a story of the Clouds piece, a near-fail. (This might also give a little insight to my internal process as I work on these pieces.)
During my image searching phase I found many images of clouds and even a large sofa shaped like a cloud, and I would have used those as my background but then I saw some graph paper with clouds I had hand stamped over 20 years ago. I had designed and carved a rubber stamp to print the negative space between clouds and this was a scrap of paper I had used for testing. I liked the colors and the industrial feel of the rigid blue squares under the pastel clouds.
I found an old Ray Ban sunglasses advertisement that was printed on vellum, a sheer opaque paper and I thought it would work with the clouds and some lavender handmade recycled paper.
Unfortunately, after I had decided on my layout and I began to assemble the collage, I did not remember that I had used water-soluble ink for those clouds and it reacted with the glue, started to smear. I had also decided to punch a few holes in the vellum, thinking they would allow some of the cloud colors to peek through—but this was not as clever an idea as I had imagined when the edges of these little holes caught clumps of glue. These clumps created a mess as I tried to apply the vellum to the base collage. And, then everything became difficult to align when I tried to apply glue directly to the vellum instead—it rolled up tightly and would not uncurl all the way.
I almost threw the collage away because it would not lay flat; it had so many flaws. Then I remembered a phrase from “Art Engineer” Luis Martin (of Collage Dream) that I heard in one of his YouTube videos, “nothing is precious” so, I clenched my teeth and just ripped off the offending warped and bubbled vellum revealing the clouds and brighter colors beneath. [P.S. Luis has a Februllage Show & Tell video you might enjoy.]
I have a previous post about Keeping Notebooks. This year I am using a slightly larger art journal format. For February, each of my daily entries featured a small Sprocket print of that day’s collage on top of a printed/painted black bar, a visual anchor.
UPDATE-March 2022: Because of crisis in Ukraine the Februllage project has added an additional collage prompt “Peace”. Here is my piece, created March 5, 2023:
“The most valuable possession you can own is an open heart. The most powerful weapon you can be is an instrument of peace.”
Carlos Santana
*9 Meaningful Ways You Can Help Ukraine [https://www.globalcitizen.org/en/content/ways-to-help-ukraine-conflict/]
Winter 2013 – Barry had been thinking about what he could do to help this “messed-up world.” He told us he woke up with a song in his mind that he thought could bring it beauty. He said he had composed the beginning of the tune and hoped we would contribute lyrics to the melody he had written so far. The glow in his face as he talked about the song was a clear sign that this was going to be an important composition, and then, as he began to sing it, we were transformed.
Winter 2021 – I pored through all my notes and sound files to try and pin down the exact moment “Sometimes Today Seems Like Yesterday” entered my heart and mind. I am still hoping to get a more accurate date, but I am pretty sure it was a little before December 17, 2013. In my notes taken at the Lincoln Square Neighborhood Center that evening, “Heart and Soul” was the song we studied and at the bottom of my notebook page, in pencil, I started writing down the lyrics (a sure sign that they were draft and subject to change.)
Looking back now I cannot think of a more perfect song/theme than “Heart and Soul” for this class for there was truly a family vibe that night. It began with a wonderful announcement–Barry made a point of informing us that it was John Orr’s birthday. “John Orr was the bass player with Monk….I would like you to sing Happy Birthday to John Orr….We are getting him on the phone now.” (The phone rings but nobody is picking up.) “He’s supposed to be there” Barry says. Then, the class erupts in laughter as an automated voice is heard, “Hello, please leave a message.” (Remember landlines and answering machines? So 2013.) “We’ll catch him later,” Barry laughs, when someone suggests we leave a message. And so class begins. Never a dull moment.
After the class learns “Heart and Soul” with the rubato verse, and we run it through the keys of F, Eb, Db, C, Bb, Ab, and G, Barry gets serious telling us “and if that wasn’t enough keys to pick your key I think something’s wrong and you ought to have an operation on your voice,” he advises.
Then, without warning (because Barry is very IN THE MOMENT) Barry asks for a couple of chords and tells us he has changed the lyrics to his new song, and begins singing. “Sometimes today seems like yesterday; when we would romp and play; each day a holiday. We’d sing and dance and prance and have such fun.” He pauses saying “and then I had something about and then life begun.” [sic] He mentions “begin/begins” but stresses that it has to be “begun“. “You dig that?” he asks us firmly. We reply that we understand. He then directs us all to sing the lyrics so far. And we do. Of course, as soon as we are done, I loudly interject (as I am wont to do, sitting right in front of him,) “our life had just begun.” And, sigh of relief, he says “I like that, let’s see what it sounds like;” and, a miracle, it is added. He tells us to sing it again. “Remember this, [sing it] softly, as a morning sunrise, and sort of nostalgic.”
We need one more rhyming phrase and a student behind me suggests “beneath the smiling sun” bumping my phrase to last which is where Barry emphasizes that he wants it. As we line up to sing it along with “Heart and Soul”, he tells us we can ad lib the last couple of lines.
A friend recently posted a video from this class and I can see myself sitting in the front row saying these things to Barry. I have no idea where I got the courage to make these suggestions but it was so heartwarming to see it. Somewhere along the way I remember changing “our life” to “our lives” and I even wrote a second A section on my own time that Barry didn’t care for. I was used to him rejecting phrases so it did not bother me. I enjoyed trying to create things he might use, even if it didn’t always work out.
Anyway, over the next seven years, at subsequent classes and overseas workshops, Barry would tell the story of his song. He would sing it until each new group of students had learned the melody, and then he would call on different people to come up to the mic and give it a try. As more and more students became familiar with the song, he made it a point to call on people who had never sung it before, and wonderful things happened as theses newbies added twists and turns to the tune we had all grown to love so much.
He especially seemed to enjoy seeing singers moved by the tender lyrics and nostalgic feelings it evoked. After these emotional renditions he usually ended the sessions with all of us singing the song in unison–a very healing, cathartic, experience. I believe this was healing for him and was always happy to see how much it seemed to help him.
Winter 2014 – The B section has finally been added which ends with another phrase I blurted during a class “until one’s path is finally found.'” and although Barry had initially rejected the word “finally”, a couple of weeks later he put it back in as official because he acknowledged that he was humming a triplet in there and it needed a word to capture that part of the melodic phrase. He was so kind, told me he had been thinking about it and I was right, it needed the “finally” – that was so sweet of him. I was so blown away by this gesture.
January 2015 – Only the first A and B sections of the song have lyrics. I tell a friend on FaceBook: “Here are the words so far, he will probably add more:
A: Sometimes today seems like yesterday; when we would romp and play; each day a holiday. We’d sing and dance and prance and have such fun; beneath the/a smiling sun; our lives had just begun.
B: Life’s journey starts with many ups and downs; the world goes round and round; until one’s path is finally found.“
March 2016 – We are still singing ABA repeating the first A to finish up. “World” has been simplified to “road” and “the smiling sun” has become the default phrase. [Prior to this, singers could sometimes choose the adjective that they wanted to use when describing the sun. Many wonderful words were chosen–golden, shining, brilliant, radiant, noontime, summer, southern–oh, so many adjectives that apply. ‘Midnight sun’ however was vetoed as Barry thought that would make it an x-rated song, lol.]
Winter 2016 – Jo Marchese, a fantastic NYC singer who shares Barry’s birthday, December 15th, suggests the lyrics that became the final phrases of the second A: “That’s where I’d like to stay, if only for a day, if only for a day.“
In January of 2017, Jo’s line of “That’s where I’d like to stay,” is changed to “That’s where I’d love to stay” and around the world that is how the song is performed now.
On YouTube you can find some amazing performances. Here are a few that jumped out at me:
Here is a link to the leadsheet transcribed by Tomasz Bialowolski, and the final lyrics:
Sometimes today seems like yesterday
When we would romp and play
Each day a holidayWe’d sing and dance and prance
And have such fun
Beneath the smiling sun
Our lives had just begunLife’s journey starts with many
ups and downs
The road goes ’round and ’round
Until one’s path is finally foundSometimes today seems like yesterday
copyright 2013 Barry Harris
That’s where I’d love to stay
if only for a day,
if only for a day.
The pandemic knocked me for a loop—that’s a given. Since June of 2020, I have not be able to summon up enough energy to write a single blog post. In addition to being house-bound, I was coming to grips with multiple losses—friends dying (not just from the virus), family health crises, and particularly the loss of my mentor and friend, Barry Harris.
It was a gradual loss at first; I was last in his presence at his NYC class on March 10, 2020, just as Covid was about to lock us all inside. Terribly afraid of accidentally being a carrier (because at that time nobody knew if you could be asymptomatic and still spread the virus) I did not attempt to visit him at his home. Instead I sent cards and letters, and we had phone calls back and forth, but it was a very sad time as I missed hanging out with him, playing word games, making him my chicken soup and other things we enjoyed.
I struggled with anticipatory grief of more losses to come as I faced the new reality of my life without vocals class, without seeing my friends, without travel to visit people I love, and without the comforting community of musicians I was used to seeing every week. I knew there would be no more Barry Harris choral rehearsals, singing workshops, or Big Band experiences and these had become my main reason for leaving the house. I was grateful that Barry was able to begin teaching piano and improvisation classes via Zoom on Saturdays during lockdown—attending those sessions helped to ease my separation anxiety, but still I grieved the loss of singing, singing to him, and of learning new songs with his input and guidance.
And (deep sigh) now he is gone, I cannot embrace him, or kiss his cheek, or tell him face to face how much he means to me. I have been trying to push through all of it the best I can, the loss of his guidance and friendship on top of the pressures of family and work obligations that dominate my life right now. I am going slowly and not taking on any additional commitments until I am sure I can fulfill them.
I am happy for Barry; I am sure he is in his element now and free of all the physical discomfort. Part of my mind was always worried, wondering how he was doing and now I don’t have these concerns because I know he is okay. Since his passing, I have been trying to sleep through my grief to process it. If it wasn’t for my loudly crying cat (she needs me to feed her, go figure) I would have slept straight through the past month or so.
Yes, I am sleeping in shadows now, a strange riddle as they are shadows made without light, without a sun. I listen for the echo of the communal learning experience that nurtured me. It encompassed so much more than the musical lesson of that moment. What will the future bring? Right now I am taking a break from singing and composing. I am hopeful that at some point my spark will return, but for now I am not engaging in any major musical projects. Instead I am exploring internal issues that arise through journaling, collage and other mixed media arts. I am spending more time with my family. We are all trying to be creative and productive during a strange time in the world.
So, going forward I am not sure what types of posts I will be inspired to share here. Perhaps more of my personal art projects and things I observe, but for the time being there may not be many jazz related pieces, will see.
This month I had hoped to return to blogging by presenting a story about a Barry Harris song that brings beauty to the world, but I have not completed it yet. If I can post it next month I will do that.
Thank you to everyone who has called or written to me. Your condolences and our mutual grief have been very comforting. And to those of you that are grieving the loss of Barry that I have not spoken to I send you my deepest condolences on your loss. I hope you will be able to incorporate his love and guidance into your work going forward. That is my goal. ~Laurie
Summer is here but we are all still inside, waiting for the opportunity to enjoy the sunshine with those we love. While I am waiting, I am so grateful for friends that are contacting me and asking me about musical things. I might not know all the answers, but it is lovely to be asked. Yesterday I got two thought-provoking requests; one was about writing lyrics, and the other was a question about an unusual love song. I will touch on these topics a bit this month, but if you have any thoughts to continue the discussions, please add them in the comments. And, at the bottom of this page you will also see a couple of interesting reference links related to standards in general.
*Yeah, I added the number one to this blog post title because I expect to have a follow-up post in the same format for July. Stay tuned.
LYRIC WRITING TIP (June 2020):
Even though there are plenty of songwriting resources, online and offline, to get your writing started in a structured, organized process, I thought I would share one of the ways I create lyrics when I do not have a melody yet, or when I am not feeling very inspired. Just a little random writing tip from me to you.
Twinkle twinkle little star
how I wonder what you areup above the world so high
like a diamond in the skytwinkle twinkle little star
how I wonder what you are
In a world of shadowed mist
comes a day the sun has kissed
(mist and kist = a near-rhyme)
Dreams are filling up the air
Troubles fade without a carePeople can’t believe it’s true
But I know it’s ’cause of you
After you have drafted your lyrics, if you want to try and create a song with them you have a few options. But, remember, there are no hard and fast rules for you to follow except to have fun with the process, that is one of my personal rules:
I hope you will be inspired to write a melody that makes you happy. Don’t expect instant results. Let your mind rest between melody attempts. And, you will always have a personal poem you created in a unique way, even without the music.
LYRICS TO PONDER:
Every once in a while I am asked ‘lyric interpretation’ questions. I have many singing friends who do not speak English as their first language. Sometimes they do not know a word or two, but often the overall message of a phrase, or even the whole song is misunderstood. I answer these questions as best I can, from my limited perspective, and sometimes I saved the conversations in the hopes that one day I would have an interactive platform in which to discuss them further with other musicians. So I suppose this is the day and this is the platform!
The question for this post is regarding a love song titled: “I‘m Gonna Laugh You Right Out of My Life“. I first heard it on a Thursday a very long time ago. (Yes, it was a Thursday, long story.) I did not sing it that afternoon, but yesterday, as I was discussing it again with my friend, the lyrics took me right back to that jazz moment.
I’m Gonna Laugh You Right Out of My Life
Songwriters: Cy Coleman / Joseph McCarthy Jr.
What does it mean: I’m gonna laugh you right out of my life ?
Ah, very interesting question. Even the singer of this song knows it is not possible to make a joke out of a love that was so very real to her. She is telling the man that she is over him, and can laugh about it all now. She is saying she made a mistake to care for him when he did not feel the same way for her. And, by the end of the song she seems to have convinced herself that she can laugh about it, but inside her heart she knows if she does begin to laugh, it will quickly turn to tears of sadness because, she did love him but it seems like it is over. They have said goodbye to each other. By saying she is going to laugh she is telling him “you did not mean that much to me either, and look, I am not in pain. I am laughing.” but she is lying to him and to herself.
I’m gonna laugh you right out of my life,
Laugh, and forget this affair
Guess I was foolish
To care.
So, I’m gonna dance you right out of my dreams,
Try to be carefree and gay
I guess I’ll learn to play
The part.
’cause when our friends begin that
Heartless rumor,
I know I’ll really need my
Sense of humor.
I’m gonna laugh you right out of my life,
Make it a beautiful joke.
No one will know you broke
My heart.
But if I find you and I
Really meant that last goodbye,
Then I’m gonna laugh so hard,
I’ll cry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rywGbSyHdrU
Please take a moment and check out one of my favorite sites for backstories and links to important standards – JazzStandards.com. Look for the “Search” function, it is located at the top of the page, in the middle of the navigation ribbon.
And, a couple of extra links for you: While I was googling around looking for a songwriting template to share (this is a pretty complete overview – found at the song foundry, I came upon a site called Song Lyrics Generator which has a sort of Mad Libs algorithm to create a song – did not work too well when I tested it, but it was fun.
[When I post my related “Writing Lyrics and Lyrics to Ponder” entry next month, it will be linked here.]
Ciao – Laurie
Moments, Memories, & Jazz 