November 7th-9th, 2020. Dear Mr President, I’ve been thinking a lot about my Dad in the last week, the ideals he Continue reading
When I was a little girl, I had a lot of my Dad’s favorite songs. Now when I listen to them, I see how those songs, in many ways, shaped my path. How could they not right? They soundtracked my being, from gestation forward. And in the case of the last song… backward. I hope you enjoy them, and this uniquely Intimate storytime…
There’s a bird singing across the sunglistened crispy snow… sounds a bit like spring, but we know that’s quite far Continue reading
Yesterday the news hit the stands with headlines across every major media outlet like, ‘WOODSTOCK 50 CANCELLED—promoters insist the show must go on’.And for the last 24 hours, the stories are flying and the questions arise and the truth remains… The music… The people… The issues of the times… The vision of the promoters… the Hog Farm… the place (in time and on the planet) created a slurpy mix of mud and music and peace and love and you cannot recreate that swirl.
This summer, me and the Woodstock Festival turn fifty. And as the world rubbernecks between looking back and looking forward, the next generation of badasses are calling us to look ahead. Sure… peek backwards to collect some of the lessons we’ve been asked to learn, and perhaps one day we will learn them. Or maybe not… But if we don’t look ahead and protect their futures… we will miss the opportunity again.
How have we come to this? I can’t fully answer that, because I didn’t need network teevee blaring through my Continue reading
You can tell which houses the families still live in… the others are growing in number…
Standing cold, temperature set around 50°, water drained from copper veins, Some heavy with the lead that remains…
The two leggeds called to the Ancestors tonite… Those who prayed we’d come awake.
Songs from within the womb gave way to the crescent moon—dancing with the light of Venus