Held Space

What I love most about spring is the sound of water. The ice cracking along the river, the gurlged infinity of the spring melt, a sound that tumbles through the air in a lulling rhythm. While I await the first spring crocus, it is that one sound that carries me through April. 

Time presses on me these days, I have to segregate my practice time, compartamentalize my brain into four separate concerts, with four very distinct set lists. When the robin is calling out my window, it can be difficult to concentrate, to pull myself into discipline and press straight all the kinks. Tonight though, my thoughts swirl around tomorrow's concert. There was this moment, in rehearsal about a week ago, when Catherine came to read the poems that create the space for the songs. It was a moment, when all the threaded thoughts and careful planning crumbled into the sweetest of still time. Her words were heavy, as the branch laden with apples, and there was nothing in my mind but those words, but the beheld space, and I almost cried out of the sheer pleasure of it. Of letting words carry me into the melody, held sound, held breath, held space. It was my want for this concert, to create a texture, a mood that doesn't just pass through but lingers and sings sweetly from within. It felt like a gift to be able to experience in the midst of it's creation. Yes, I can't wait to be in the space tomorrow and letting the harmonies ring me into stillness. What silence there is in sound. 

There is so much to look forward to. Next week I will sing with a choir behind me, something I could only dream of before this. Then Winnipeg, where I will be playing with such talented and beautiful players, I can't wait. How lovely is the spring to be so filled with the sounds of life and music!

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