How cool to find such inspiration and healing in Joan Baez deep diving. As a thoroughly engaged and entirely improper musician myself, my life story and healing all tap into and stem from the delights and demons of the art. When I returned home late last night, after a typical community orchestra rehearsal, I was so elated from the music, friendships, and focused immersion of playing that I couldn’t get to sleep for a couple of hours. This is typical, whether I’m playing myself or hearing dear friends perform. Music is one powerful and magical substance feeding the joy of our existence and urging us on through the lows as well.
I'm so glad you shared this Carol. You are a VERY talented musician and your experiences are what I had hoped I would hear from you! Music is indeed magical and you are not only lucky to enjoy it yourself but also have the generosity to share it with so many others through your teaching and playing. Thank you ❤️
Heather was the folkie in our house, thanks to her mother, and the Three Js (Joan, Judy, and Joni) were in heavy rotation when she was in charge of the music. I, on the other hand, was more of a rock and roll/R&B/blues guy, with a weakness for singers with, uh, shall we say unconventional voices, like Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Tom Waits, and Van Morrison, all of whom were fingernails on a blackboard to her.
Ha! I remember my mother coming into my room once when I was playing a Neil Young album and she exclaimed, who is that screeching on your record player?? I was appalled that she couldn't see the beauty of my beloved singer at that moment. Luckily for me, I loved the Js and most of the lads you mention. I couldn't ever get an ear for Tom Waits though. 😆😆
Someday I’ll have to do my famous imitation of Neil singing “Helpless” for you; it’s pretty much guaranteed to clear the room. As for Tom Waits, he’s an acquired taste, for sure. Honestly, I can only take him in small doses.
Not at all! I've been catching up on my reading after having been away, and I love your writing - your Substack homepage has been such a treat this morning!
I envy your musical skill. What a joy it must be to pick up an instrument and craft a melody (and lyrics) and entertain a whole room. Let alone the succour it can give. Writing's wonderful and an artform, but that auditory comfort is missing. The melody has the capacity to block anything else, doesn't it?
I do 'play' music frequently. For better or worse, Spotify has become a good friend. And as I respond to your wonderful newsletter, the heavens help me, my 5 and 3/4 year old grandson is listening to Queen's We Will Rock You and dancing round the house after a sleep over. I just want to play Kinobe's Slip Into Something More Comfortable and snuggle back into bed! XXXX
Having not played now in decades, I am looking at my partner's guitar brought down from the attic looking wistfully at me, teasing me to pull it out of the case and begin the fingertip toughening process again. He is away this week, so I can start the painful process of tuning and remembering the chords and reminding my voice how to sing along. At least without an audience! I know how much you love music, and remember that dance is also a version of interpreting music with your body. Wonderful magical skill that, too. xx
This post brought back many memories for me. I count on you for doing that. You reminded me that I too took guitar classes in that same place. Perhaps we were in the same class! I haven't thought about that since high school if that.
I also remember the personal and cultural shift I went through at that point learning to play the guitar. It opened me up to folk and popular music; something I wasn't aware of before picking up the instrument. My mother bought me a Johny Cash and a Peter, Paul, and Mary record so I could listen and practice.
The songsheet you included was, of course, THE song for many of us. It moved me beyond any other. The seminary student who lived with us played that song at the Presbyterian Church in San Anselmo where he was in seminary school (and likely avoiding the draft). That song evokes a powerful turning point in my adolescence in learning more about the world beyond my parents' vision of it.
Thanks for another poignant post. And for stirring up these memories from so long ago at this age and stage in our lives.
I'm happy to hear it brought back some forgotten memories. We probably were in the same class! It is so funny what comes spilling out of my brain when I start down a path of one small memory. As I write, the details of other forgotten related remembrances come tagging along too, and beg to be included. So I just keep going. Thanks for your thoughtfulness and for sharing the meaning of the folk music for you-it was a very monumental time for that music for so many of us.
How cool to find such inspiration and healing in Joan Baez deep diving. As a thoroughly engaged and entirely improper musician myself, my life story and healing all tap into and stem from the delights and demons of the art. When I returned home late last night, after a typical community orchestra rehearsal, I was so elated from the music, friendships, and focused immersion of playing that I couldn’t get to sleep for a couple of hours. This is typical, whether I’m playing myself or hearing dear friends perform. Music is one powerful and magical substance feeding the joy of our existence and urging us on through the lows as well.
Your description of your elatation, Carol, makes me so happy to hear. Such a wonderful feeling.
I'm so glad you shared this Carol. You are a VERY talented musician and your experiences are what I had hoped I would hear from you! Music is indeed magical and you are not only lucky to enjoy it yourself but also have the generosity to share it with so many others through your teaching and playing. Thank you ❤️
Heather was the folkie in our house, thanks to her mother, and the Three Js (Joan, Judy, and Joni) were in heavy rotation when she was in charge of the music. I, on the other hand, was more of a rock and roll/R&B/blues guy, with a weakness for singers with, uh, shall we say unconventional voices, like Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Tom Waits, and Van Morrison, all of whom were fingernails on a blackboard to her.
Ha! I remember my mother coming into my room once when I was playing a Neil Young album and she exclaimed, who is that screeching on your record player?? I was appalled that she couldn't see the beauty of my beloved singer at that moment. Luckily for me, I loved the Js and most of the lads you mention. I couldn't ever get an ear for Tom Waits though. 😆😆
Someday I’ll have to do my famous imitation of Neil singing “Helpless” for you; it’s pretty much guaranteed to clear the room. As for Tom Waits, he’s an acquired taste, for sure. Honestly, I can only take him in small doses.
Oh, such a beautiful, beautiful post, Sabrina! Music is so very powerful. Lovely words. xxx
Thanks, lovely. Very kind of you to spend time here 🤗
Not at all! I've been catching up on my reading after having been away, and I love your writing - your Substack homepage has been such a treat this morning!
❤️
I envy your musical skill. What a joy it must be to pick up an instrument and craft a melody (and lyrics) and entertain a whole room. Let alone the succour it can give. Writing's wonderful and an artform, but that auditory comfort is missing. The melody has the capacity to block anything else, doesn't it?
I do 'play' music frequently. For better or worse, Spotify has become a good friend. And as I respond to your wonderful newsletter, the heavens help me, my 5 and 3/4 year old grandson is listening to Queen's We Will Rock You and dancing round the house after a sleep over. I just want to play Kinobe's Slip Into Something More Comfortable and snuggle back into bed! XXXX
Having not played now in decades, I am looking at my partner's guitar brought down from the attic looking wistfully at me, teasing me to pull it out of the case and begin the fingertip toughening process again. He is away this week, so I can start the painful process of tuning and remembering the chords and reminding my voice how to sing along. At least without an audience! I know how much you love music, and remember that dance is also a version of interpreting music with your body. Wonderful magical skill that, too. xx
You're right of course, dance is a musical interpretation. I do know when I hear a piece that resonates, I really find it hard to stand still.
Enjoy the secret re-bonding. Maybe one day you'll post a small recording?
HA! Very unlikely! But I very much appreciate the encouragement...
This post brought back many memories for me. I count on you for doing that. You reminded me that I too took guitar classes in that same place. Perhaps we were in the same class! I haven't thought about that since high school if that.
I also remember the personal and cultural shift I went through at that point learning to play the guitar. It opened me up to folk and popular music; something I wasn't aware of before picking up the instrument. My mother bought me a Johny Cash and a Peter, Paul, and Mary record so I could listen and practice.
The songsheet you included was, of course, THE song for many of us. It moved me beyond any other. The seminary student who lived with us played that song at the Presbyterian Church in San Anselmo where he was in seminary school (and likely avoiding the draft). That song evokes a powerful turning point in my adolescence in learning more about the world beyond my parents' vision of it.
Thanks for another poignant post. And for stirring up these memories from so long ago at this age and stage in our lives.
I'm happy to hear it brought back some forgotten memories. We probably were in the same class! It is so funny what comes spilling out of my brain when I start down a path of one small memory. As I write, the details of other forgotten related remembrances come tagging along too, and beg to be included. So I just keep going. Thanks for your thoughtfulness and for sharing the meaning of the folk music for you-it was a very monumental time for that music for so many of us.
Keep up the great work so I can remember my youth! Counting on you.