Music meets muse, in February ...

February, oh February, with your difficult middle vowels and extraneous "r", when will you be over? Last month I posted about the one thing that kept me going through a miserable January of funerals.

It was flamenco.

This month, it's music. Last week an old friend came to visit. Musician, opera-singer, and guitarist extraordinaire, he breezed in from Vancouver for a few days and well, the house was full of music, opera, and it was all hands on deck while everyone grabbed a guitar! A harmonica! A set of spoons! Something, anything, to ward off February and make some beautiful noise together.

Joni Mitchell's Hejira, figured large. Shakespeare's sonnet 18, too. As luck would have it, another old friend had a guitar party and well, worlds collided. We played for four hours straight, until my fingers gave out. We've all played guitar together for almost thirty years, and it never, ever gets old.

It was grand. It lead to an outpouring of poetry and a burst of renewed enthusiasm for a YA/Teen science fiction manuscript I'm trying to finish. I'm not a professional musician, I've never made a living from my music, but I definitely turn to song when I'm struggling with a story line, an arc, a characterization. The muse has come around unbid this month. Interesting that "muse" is 3/5 ths of the word "music." February, thou art cruel and sometimes kind.

So here are some links, to remind us that spring IS coming, and music renews us. And soon, we'll find March is upon us with her milder breezes (and fewer vowels).

Toronto Island Spring Trees Video (wherein I make some guitarish sounds accompanied by lovely spring tree photos from my artist friend Baye Hunter)

Philippa's Soundcloud page

Joni Mitchell, Hejira

The January of funerals and flamenco

What an intense month. Two very close friends lost their mothers this week, and another close friend lost her mother on Christmas Day. All three were strong, interesting, and intelligent women.

In the past two weeks I've been to funerals, and mourned with my lifelong friends. I've also spent a night watching the top flamenco troup from Spain (Soledad Barrio and Noche Flamenca), dance, sing and clap their hearts out in a great affirmation.  The hypnotic, ecstatic dances expressed love, loss, joy, death, the song of life.

Funerals and flamenco, about as far apart on the human emotional diversity scale as you can possibly get, and yet equally intense. Needless to say, I'm a bit drained.

January is a difficult time of year here in Canada, at the best of times. I read somewhere once that the third Monday in January  is considered the worst day of the year in the western world, because it is the exact middle of the winter, and it's the day credit card statements arrive in the mail with all those excesses from the holidays. I've also read that the happiest people aren't necessarily the richest, but instead are those who have fulfilling work, a close network of friends and family, and who have a creative outlet to express themselves.

My creative life has definitely been a great source of happiness. There has never been a time when I didn't want to write, even when there might have been brief moments that I didn't enjoy my family life or my other career as a copywriter.

So, in keeping with the memory of three lovely women and the ecstasy of flamenco, I say affirm yourself! Throw paint at the wall! Let words drip through your fingers! Dance, stretch, play, sing, cook a favourite recipe, read a great book or write one. Clap and stomp your way through life, swirl your skirt, clasp your lapels, pull up a chair and dance with friends.

This January has made me think it's time for a change. Flamenco lessons, anyone?