Over the Rainbow...

I can't remember the first time I saw the movie "The Wizard of Oz".

I just remember that it was an annual event.

Of course...

I am of the era that grew up with no dvd's or big screen plasma tvs or cable television.

If we wanted to see a movie, we went to a movie theater or

we waited for it to be played on television.

If we watched it on tv, the disclaimer that it had been "edited for television" always preceded the start.

This meant that minutes had been shaved off the movie to allow for plenty of commercials.

But there were no other options, so we endured the commercial breaks.

 

The "classics" were usually broadcast once a year -

"The Ten Commandments" was always played around Easter.

Sometime in the winter, they would play "Gone With The Wind" - over two nights!

"My Fair Lady" was usually a holiday movie.

And then there was "The Wizard of Oz".

Life stopped and schedules were planned around these special movies.

The whole family gathered with large bowls of popcorn sitting in our laps.

 

And the movie about the wonderful land of Oz was always a favorite.

The music.

Dorothy and Toto.

The witch.

Glenda.

But the best part...the transition from black and white to color.

Magic.

 

I remember, when I was in my early 20's,

a local movie theater that was known for playing only "classic" movies

had a showing of "The Wizard of Oz".

On the big screen.

I went.

And the movie took on a whole new feel for me.

 

Let's face it - today's movies are much more spectacular from a technical standpoint.

My children have a hard time appreciating some of the older "classics" because they are so used to the perfection that is achieved through computer technology.

But for me, the magic of the "Oz" remains to this day.

 

One of the most enduring aspects of that movie is "the" song....

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow"...

In my humble opinion - one of the greatest songs ...EVER!

The melody.

The simplicity.

The complexity.

The message.

 

I don't know what it is about that song in particular.

But being a music person - and a music person that really appreciates great lyrics -

this one speaks to me on a deep, almost spiritual level.

The idea of a land where everything is perfect;

the feeling of possibility, of longing, of hope, of dreams...

 

The song was magical to me as a child.

As a young mother, I sang the song to my children as a lullaby.

As an adult, I have sang the song for weddings as young couples began their new life together.

I have sang the song for funerals as family members have said their last goodbyes.

As a recently seperated married woman, I sat at my piano and sang the song with tears running down my face, as a way to find solace in my new uncertain world.

And now - as a divorced woman looking to the future,

I sing the song with an eye on possibility for greater things to come.

New adventures, new dreams, new roads to travel, new destinations...

anywhere my wings will take me.

 

Birds fly over the rainbow...

and so can I.

 

 

 



DANCE

When I was five, my mom put me in the car one day and told me she had a surprise for me.

We drove for a while - really just a short distance - but to me it felt like forever.

We arrived at an old school and went inside.

I was confused and nervous.

What were we doing?

We stood in a really, really long line.

And then it happened - she signed me up for ballet lessons.

We then went and bought tights, and leotards, lots of bobby pins and the best part of all . . .

ballet slippers.

I went to dance lessons and learned to plie, and releve'.

I learned about first position and all of the other positions.

To this day - over forty years later - I tend to turn my feet out when standing.

I learned about working at the barre.

We practiced during each class to a live piano player who spent her afternoons playing classical music for us to point and kick to.

And then in the winter - the best thing of all happened -

we got dressed up in our costumes, had our hair pulled back into a tight bun, had our faces smothered in thick make-up and performed our routine on a large stage in downtown Portland.

This was the same stage that the best theatrical performances were given on, and concerts and all the best talent in our City performed on.

And I got to do my simple ballet routine on it.

The lights were so bright and hot.

The audience applauded for us.

It was magical.

And I became instantly addicted to performing.

 

I continued dancing for years to come - all the way through college.

Besides ballet -

I experimented with jazz and tap.

I played around with ball room.

If it was performed to music - I tried it.

And as I grew - I discovered my love of theatre and my favorite thing of all was to perform in musical theatre.

There, I was able to satisfy my love of acting, music and dance.

There I found my bliss.

To this day - If I hear wonderful music, it is next to impossible not to move in some way.

 

But somewhere along the way -

I stopped dancing.

I had children.

The family came first.

Money was tight.

Time was short.

Patience were stretched.

I gained a few (ok maybe more than a few) pounds.

And I stopped dancing on stage . . . in public . . .even in front of my family.

The few times I danced, I confined myself to the safety of my own home when no one was around.

 

Recently - I watched a movie on dancers.

It was a documentary about young ballet dancers who are driven, and passionate and desperate to dance every minute of their lives.

I watched as they stretched and practiced.

I watched as they extended their legs.

They made it look so easy and fluid. Yet - having been a dancer, I understood the dedication and hard work involved. The ultimate athleticism.

I found myself longing for the bloodied toes and the aching muscles. Those things were almost like "badges of honor" to us dancers.

My heart and muscles almost ached for the feel of dance while I watched the movie.

And the feeling lingered for some time afterwards.

 

We all have that thing that makes us ache inside -

maybe for you it is music, or a sport, or writing or . . . .?

It was that thing that you loved to do more than anything else when you were young.

It's that thing that makes you feel restless when you ignore it.

It calls to you. It drives you.

 

Do you answer the call?

Do you still do it?

Do you still pursue that passion on a daily basis?

Why do we let these things go as we become adults?

Somewhere along the way, we become convinced that working on those passions is a sign of immaturity.

Or worse yet - it's a sign of being selfish.

 

Really? Being true to ourself and doing that which makes us the best that we can possibly be is selfish?

As I have grown and changed, I have developed new passions - my art and writing. These

 are passions equal to performing and music and dance.

Does that make me greedy to have more than one?

And if I have such strong desires for my art and writing - am I being greedy to want to pursue the old and forgotten ones?

Does that make me selfish? Or self-absorbed?

 

I am beginning to challenge that thought in my own life now.

I am wanting to reclaim those lost passions.

I want to DANCE!

 

GRATITUDE

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nj2ofrX7jAk&feature=share

 

Today is November 30th.

It is the last day of the month.

Many people on Facebook took the month of November and expressed one thing each day that they were grateful for.

I participated . . .some.

I was very inconsistent and probably only managed to make a "gratitude" comment about 1/2 of the days.

But that doesn't mean the thoughts were not being felt by me.

 

I saw this video today and it brought tears to my eyes.

(Of course, that happens a lot to - I am a first class boob - but regardless . . .)

 

Take the time to watch it.

Listen with your heart.

The poignancy of it speaks to the soul.

 

 

I spoke with a friend recently -

He had helped me with a task that for him was very easy.

For me - it was a struggle.

It was not that I couldn't have figured it out -

but time was tight and I had been unable to complete the task.

I said thank you. . .many times over.

He was surprised and wondered if I was sincere.

I asked what I could do for him - the answer was nothing.

Why did he want to help me?

What did he want from me?

Was this possible?

 

Have we become so jaded in our lives that when we express gratitude it is not believed?

When someone steps in to help us or gift us with time or service -

are we so jaded that we are looking to find out what they want from us?

I know that I am frequently more than willing to extend a hand of support to others and I expect nothing in return.

Why could I not believe that someone was willing to do that for me?

It made me stop and think.

 

Gratitude.

So often - we relate our gratitude to big things.

Or to big events.

And yes - it is imperative that we are grateful for the big things.

But what about the millions of little miracles that occur each and every day.

 

Yes - MIRACLES.

We are surrounded by them.

 

The simplicity of gratitude is often overlooked. . .

 

The changing of the seasons.

The feel of the rain as it falls.

The sound of my windchimes as they sing their song on the breeze.

The smell of my home.

The ability to see.

The ability to hear.

The ability to breathe.

The ability to read and learn and grow.

The ability to get up when I have fallen.

 

 

As life continues to change in my world, I want to remember to remain grateful.

I vow to notice the little things. . .

The simplicity that creates this thing called life.

I vow to remain in the moment.

I vow to reflect my gratitude to those who are in my life -

and to those that have returned to my life . . .

who have supported me;

laughed with me;

cried with me;

lifted me; held me and

loved me.

 

I will honor those things and those people that have participated in the journey that has brought me to this point.

 

And to each of you I say . . .

Thank you.

 



CHANGE

Change.

Does any word create such a wide range of emotions?

Excitement. Fear. Dread. Fear. Happiness. Fear.

Anticipation. Fear. Pressure. Fear. Joy . . .oh and don't forget FEAR!

 

Yet - how often do we avoid the change -

and often the wonderful rewards that come as a result of change?

 

Right now -

I am going through all kinds of change.

Some of it by my choice.

Some of it as a result of other's choices.

Most of it very exciting -

All of it scary.

 

But the main lesson I have learned from this is to be open to the change.

Overall - change can be very good.

 

Years ago, I remember learning that life is constantly in motion.

We are either moving forward or we are moving backwards -

we are never stagnant.

If we aren't changing and growing for the better . . .

well . . .we are going in the opposite direction.

 

And the only way I can find to make sure that I am going forward is to keep dreaming . . .

keep reaching. . .

keep changing.

 

Which, of course, then brings us back to the subject of fear.

 

Right now

my art business is going through a major change.

It will be good.

I feel confident that it will be great!

It started as a dream.

And the dream is beginning to become a reality.

But it is scary.

Because it has caused me to make some decisions to let go of things that I feel confident about.

Things that I am comfortable with.

 

But I am choosing to let go of the comfort and continue this journey forward.

 

Stay tuned - I promise to share details when I can.

But in the meantime - I will keep dreaming.

And envisioning where this journey of change will take me.



Where Would I Be Without A Song?

About a year ago I wrote a post about music.

I wrote how I was having a rough night and I retreated to my studio,

cranked up some music and through the power of a particular song -

the stress seemed to go away.

Today I will revisit that topic.

Lately - I am having a few more "rough" days than usual.

Now, please don't think that I am sitting at home,

having lost my will to go on.

It's nothing that dramatic.

In fact - quite frankly - I am doing quite well . . .

all things considered.

I have been making art like crazy.

I have had more orders than usual come in.

I have had successful art shows/festivals -

another one this weekend, in fact.

I am finding my groove in my new life as a single woman.

I am working through the "business" of divorce.

In fact - i can actually say the word now.

I smile more that I am sad.

I laugh more than I cry.

But some days . . .well -

the rough days creep in.

This last weekend I had a very successful art festival.

The weather was beautiful and the people were in abundance.

I saw old friends and met new ones.

It was a great weekend!

But it was also one of the hardest I have ever lived through -

I have been participating in this particular festival for the last four years -

and my husband was my partner each year.

We spent the whole weekend together as a team.

When I showed up with a girlfriend to set up my space, I was immediately asked where he was.

That set the pattern for the rest of the weekend.

They question "where is your husband?" was asked and I retold the story . . .

and answered questions, and received hugs and "I'm sorries".

The support was overwhelming.

But, although I felt all of the wonderful love and support -

each time the question was asked,

it was a bit like getting kicked in the stomach . . .over and over and over.

BUT . . .

I did well.

I stayed strong.

I kept a smile on my face.

Until Monday when I fell apart.

I was tired and it all caught up with me.

I cried. 

A lot.

You know the kind - gut wrenching, can't breathe, toxin cleansing crying. . .

A friend of mine sent me text to check in - how was I doing?

A rough day, I answered.

Her response was to have a cold diet pepsi and crank up some good music.

Obviously - she did not understand how upset I was.

Such simple advice for such a major meltdown.

I took the advice.

(I did; however, expand the advice to include a large bag of M&Ms - just for added insurance.)

I plugged my iPod into the dock in my studio and turned up the volume.

Way up.

The sound filled my studio room.

I was the only one home.

I pulled out the paints and the projects I was working on.

I was working on mindless base-coating - just laying in blocks of color.

The perfect task for singing.

I cleared my head and focused on the music.

I let the music play and I sang.

I sang loud.

I sang with feeling!

In between songs - I sipped my diet pepsi.

The music didn't change the fact that I was sad.

I am ok with feeling the sadness when it needs to be felt.

I need that to move forward.

But the music affected me on a soulful level.

As I sang - the tears cleared.

I felt a lift of pressure - I felt a bit of joy.

Through this process, many people have sent me songs to listen to.

Some of the songs talk about taking charge, surviving and using the bruises we gain in life to grow and excel.

The power of music cannot be understated.

A song can take me back to a particular place, a moment in time . . .

I can feel and smell and experience memories all over again when I listen to a song.

I have entire mood shifts based on the music I am listening to.

Music has been my companion through joy, sorrow, the birth of my children - I have used music to teach my children, to commemorate special events, to celebrate, to FEEL.

With music I feel the presence of God.

All I know - is that during this time of change -

music, art and a little diet pepsi seem to be the best medicine for this lady.