We all know what it means.

Tags

life, love, music, New Orleans

I’m excited for tomorrow night’s live-stream show with my quartet. We’re doing a special Mardi Gras show from the stage of The Majestic Theatre here in Conway, NH. We’ve been rehearsing, masked up and distanced, for a couple of weeks now, and I think we’re sounding pretty damn good. After months of being apart, it’s amazing to be making music and fun with these fellas again.

In the process of getting ready for this show, I’ve been looking through photos from many New Orleans adventures, to share before and during the live-stream, and I came across this one:

and immediately my heart ached, but in a beautiful way. This was a moment that I’ll cherish forever – Shawn and I in 2012, first year campers at the New Orleans Trad Jazz Camp, having just performed a set of fun music with new friends at the legendary Preservation Hall. We were hot as hell, and excited. Are there marks on my arm from me pinching myself?!

It’s amazing how a photograph can instantly transport you, to conjure a cascade of fond and forgotten memories. I see our faces here, just a couple years into our relationship. I think now of the miles and years and adventures that lay ahead for those two young’ns – the touring and the songs and the adventures – and the gray that has crept into more recent photos, but the smiles and the joy and the love remain. We still return, year after year (except 2020), to the city that continues surprise and delight and challenge us. We bring our love of this place to every stage, every song, every performance, and to many of our moments together in our day to day life.

As the song asks and I answer: Yes, I do know what it means to miss New Orleans. Each of us misses some place, too – a place that makes your heart sing at the mere thought of it. Maybe that place isn’t geographical – maybe it’s in the eyes or the arms of those from whom you’ve been separated during this strange and challenging year we’ve been living through. We all know what it means to miss hugging the people we love, and to miss gathering with friends and like minds around the things we love, like music and art and food, and connection.

I really miss those crystalline moments in which I’m able to create those unique experiences on a stage in a venue with friends and strangers alike, swimming in that beautiful alchemy that is only possible in live performance. There, there are no edits, no take-backs, no second chances. It’s a kind of high wire act that, if performed with levity and love, is the most magical thing I’ve ever experienced.

I’m so grateful to get a taste of that magic this week, celebrating the musical traditions of a place I love with people that I love just as much, and for the opportunity to share what we pull out of our hats. I really enjoy the emotions that a single photograph can inspire!

Charlottesville.

Tags

Charlottesville, compassion, life, love

I’ve just finished spending the last two days working in the studio with a very dear childhood friend, helping her to record some of her original songs. Every moment I spent with her was a gift.

When she and I took breaks from our work, the turmoil that spilled over from Charlottesville into the world weighed heavily on our non-musical conversation, and on our hearts.

To say that all sides are to blame for the violence might be true in a very literal sense – people on all sides of this ideological divide were throwing real, bloody, physical punches – but to blame them all equally strikes me as myopic and knee-jerk, and revealing of a profound misunderstanding.

In human interaction, it seems that there are two choices – conversation and violence. Conversation can take time. Violence can be perpetrated in just seconds. Conversation can fail, and violence can dominate. Self-defense, both with words and with violence, is sometimes terribly necessary.

These last two days, while I did the work that I love, I kept coming back to this: The right answer to hatred is compassion. Though it is hard, I want to take this love I have of making music and point it in every possible direction. I want to open my heart and bear witness to another’s anger and fear, no matter their ideology, and to *really* hear what is being said. Yes, I will fail, over and over again. Yes, I will sometimes succumb to my own anger and fear and impatience and misunderstanding. It takes longer – much longer – than to compose a tweet or write a song or live a lifetime – but little by little, doing the difficult work of loving other human beings, especially the ones with whom I disagree the strongest, is the only hope for peace.

A very special five year anniversary.

Tags

abusive relationship, domestic abuse, emotional abuse, gratitude, life, love, perspective

Five years ago today, I finally summoned the courage to leave an abusive relationship.  I’d been with him for seven years.

“Why don’t they just leave?” I used to say of women who stayed with abusive partners. I thought I was too smart to fall into that trap.

I learned the hard way how wrong I was.

He was older and seemingly wiser.   His charms slowly tarnished over time, until words that I’d once used to describe him – like smart, quick-witted, observant, attentive – became what they really were: sarcastic, harsh, cynical, obsessive.   Throughout our relationship, I felt my identity slowly slip away from me, until I was merely a means to his end.  I was not as important.  He made that clear.  I stopped caring about myself sufficiently and considered only him and his opinions, his feelings, his plans.  I believed that he was the most important person in my world, and that I was secondary.

There were no telltale bruises, marks, or scars.  All of my wounds were on the inside.  Words were his weapon of choice, and he was a master of manipulation.

Even with my two closest friends beseeching me to leave him, I stayed. “I can’t leave him — it would devastate him,” I would say, giving very little consideration to how terribly depressed and unfulfilled I was.

One day — five years ago today — with the help of a friend in whom I’d confided my fear, I did finally leave, knowing that it was necessary to preserve my sanity, but feeling terrified that I was making a mistake.

It was no mistake — it was the wisest choice I’ve ever made in my life.

Since February 26, 2010, I’ve accomplished some pretty awesome things.  It’s a long list, but here are some highlights:

I’ve recorded and released 4 CDs of my music.  I’ve toured all over the US in a Winnebago with my bandmates and closest friends.  I’ve learned to how to ride a motorcycle.  I’ve hiked the Grand Canyon.  I’ve been brought to tears by the wonders of the American Museum of Natural History in New York City.  I’ve watched the sun set on the Pacific Ocean.  I’ve played jazz on Bourbon Street.  And I fell in love and built an amazing life with my best friend, someone who encourages me everyday to be me.

Every single one of these things was a lifelong dream of mine, and every single one was unthinkable in my old life.

Take it from someone who usually learns things the hard way – don’t ever let anyone tell you that your dreams aren’t worth following or that you are selfish for even wanting to do so.  Such sentiment is a poison.  Those admonitions still occasionally haunt me, and yet I wake up every morning feeling grateful for another opportunity to continue living life in full pursuit of such dreams.

Life is beautiful and tragic and, most strikingly of all, it’s far too short.  Get out there and live your life! — because when you do, you smile, and then everyone around you will start smiling too.

Saturday Morning Musings – The most important moments.

Tags

community, family, friendship, life, love, music, Nashville, NERFA, traveling

I’ve been zigzagging all over the map this week. It’s exciting to visit unfamiliar and new places. It’s inspiring to see the lay of the land, to see more of what the glaciers did, and then to experience what we humans have erected in the valleys and hills in their wake.

Last weekend was my second (and Shawn’s first) NERFA conference in Kerhonkson, New York. In a sentence? It’s a four-day-long, folk-music-filled sleep deprivation experiment. All eight hundred of us in attendance sang, played, listened, ate, laughed, talked and connected with one another.

So many moments:

There was Alan who remembered me from last year and couldn’t wait to hear my version of Norwegian Wood on the hotel lobby’s piano again.

I discovered the incredible poetry of a folk singer named Ian Fitzgerald. The line I can’t shake: “A dollar ain’t worth nothing ’cause it can’t buy any time.”

Spontaneous jam sessions with so many musicians, including with a cellist and flautist to create a beautiful rendition of Autumn Leaves.

Hearing a six-string violin sing beautifully like a humpback whale.

Lots of hugs and smiles from equally overtired attendees.

Sharing my bag of clementines with a fellow singer who felt herself coming down with a cold.

From there, we loaded up and hit the road for Nashville for our very first visit. One of my best friends from childhood lives just north of Music City and I finally took her up on her offer of her spare bedroom for a few nights.

More moments:

Waiting in line for nearly two hours with over a hundred others to get into The Bluebird Cafe for open mic, only to not make the cut. (I did get a stamp for next time though, and we got to see a gorgeous sunset while we waited.)

Overcoming my lifelong fear of horses and going for a horseback ride on Megan and Matt’s farm.  Jake (the horse) was truly awesome.

Jawbreakers at Savannah’s Candy Kitchen the size of pool cues. (No I didn’t eat one!)

Seeing Johnny Cash’s guitars and his trademark black suit at the Country Music Hall of Fame.

Singing two songs at Douglas Corner Cafe and hearing a hush fall over the bar.

Teaching Megan’s daughter Chloe how to play the C major scale on the piano.

Three year old Carly asking us to play “Roll Off Your Back” and hearing her little voice singing along.

I’m back home now, staring at a to-do list about a mile long: follow up phone calls and emails, laundry, new song ideas percolating.

My favorite moment from this adventure?  It’s hard to choose, but among the most moving – receiving this text from Megan yesterday morning: “We already miss you guys. Chloe and I are going to buy a yamaha keyboard this morning.”

Saturday Morning Musings – Love knows no boundaries. Why should we?

Tags

gay marriage, gay rights, love, marriage

Like most of you, dear readers and friends, I know a lot of married folks.  People get married for different reasons – family pressures, the arrival and/or anticipation of children, convenience, economics – and then there is this thing called love…

You never know when it will happen – and when it does, it’s like lightning, isn’t it?  No wonder so much art is devoted to its mysteries.

This morning, I’m on my way to Maine to sing at the wedding of two very dear friends.  They’ve been together for over 20 years.  Theirs is a love that is inspiring, a happiness that is truly contagious.  Whenever I see the two of them together, I can’t help but smile.

Some might say that these two shouldn’t bother tying the knot.  After all, they’ve been together this long – why now?

Why indeed.

You see, my friends that are getting married today are both women – and now, in the state of Maine, they are finally able to marry each other and no longer have to suffer the indignity of being legal strangers to one another.

And I think that’s awesome.

In my musical career, I’ve performed for countless wedding ceremonies, rehearsals, dinners and receptions.   A handful of them have been same-sex couples, and I can assure you that, from where I sit at the piano, nothing is amiss.  There is love, affection, tenderness, adoration, reverence.

You know. All the good stuff.

When lightning strikes, there is no denying the fire.  Love knows no boundaries.  Why should we?

At this point, perhaps you find yourself disagreeing with me, with my sentiments, with the concept of gay marriage – and that’s okay really, so long as your feelings don’t inspire hateful action.  But if you are in disagreement with me, just imagine for a moment if you were told that the love and affection you feel for your partner is illegal, sinful, wrong.  How would you feel?

Many point to the Judeo-Christian bible, claiming that within its pages is an admonition against it.  Well, that same bible also says it’s okay to own slaves and even sets out guidelines for their sale and treatment. And did you know that it also says it’s an “abomination” to eat shellfish? Wow. Can you imagine what would happen to Maine tourism if somehow that were worked into law?

Seriously though. What about to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness?  What about live and let live?  What about compassion?  What about love?

Just as we humans look back in horror at the injustices of racism and sexism and see how far we’ve come in our ever-evolving humanity, I am hopeful that one day, too, we will look back and realize the extent of our error in trying to put arbitrary boundaries on human love.

Saturday Morning Musings – If at first you don’t succeed, then you probably already have.

Tags

career, Heather Pierson, life, love, succeeding, success

Success.

That elusive destination towards which so many people strive and few reach – or so they are led to believe by the expectations they themselves or others have placed upon them.

What if I suggested that you’ve already arrived?

Think about it.

The idea of success, of succeeding, is one that hovers heavily over those of us who would strive to…. what?

That’s the question, ain’t it?

The accepted idea of success for someone like me (a working musician) is to “get a record deal” and “make it big”.

When I was a young’n, that was exactly what I wanted.

(Well, truth be told, I went through several career choices in my head as I was growing up. Quite seriously, I wanted to be, at one time or another, any one of the following: a veterinarian, a stand-up comic, a poet, a geologist, a novelist or a scientist with a focus on organic chemistry.  From this vast field of vocations, some quality of each has remained with me: I have a deep love of and fondness for animals (I don’t even eat them or anything that comes from them with the very recently added exceptions of eggs and honey); I really enjoy making people laugh; I write pretty regularly, both here and in my assorted lyric journals and in correspondences with friends; I have a several-shoe-box-sized rock collection that includes specimens from all over this planet; and I am a total science geek, so much so that I have plans for tattoos of a carbon atom and a DNA molecule on my left forearm.)

But I didn’t choose any of those paths (although I haven’t ruled out novelist yet and I do still dabble in non-song-lyric poetry). I chose to be a working musician.

Have I succeeded?

According to John Q. Public, I probably haven’t.  Why not?  Because no record deal and no worldwide fame.

If only I had a dollar for every time someone said, “You should try out for America’s Got Talent!”  Sure, that’s an exciting and intriguing idea – but is that what I really want?  I’m already doing precisely what I want to – making music on my own terms and making a living doing it.

I’d say that’s success!

Consider the superstars of any field.  The household names.  Certainly they worked hard to attain the heights they have reached.  Yes, I’m sure they deserve their success and their riches, but at what cost?  Many (especially in the arts and sports) have handlers, agents, managers, armies of folks guiding their every step. Not only that, but there are few places on this earth where they can go and not be noticed, not be scrutinized, where they can just be regular people – which is all they really are anyway. Regular people with a certain gift for a certain something.

Just like everyone else!

Oh, you haven’t heard? You, yes you, have a special talent, too! It may not be one that propels you onto a stage or a screen or a recording, but it likely brings you in contact with your similarly attributed peers and with those who are enthusiastic about your specific talent.

Or… maybe you’ve got a hidden talent.  Hidden from the view of the world – or from your own view.  If you know what it is — then go after it!   Pursue it, drink it in, savor it.  Life is so rare and precious and sweet, and the chance to do these things is just as rare and fleeting.  If you don’t know what is — well, I do hear people say that sometimes, but you know what?  I’m guessing that you do know, deep down inside, and you just need to give yourself permission to express yourself in that special way.

So, the next time the question of success crosses your mind, ask yourself: How do I define it?

Have you made someone smile today?  Brightened their day somehow with a kind word or gesture?

Then you’ve already succeeded.

Forget money.  Forget fame.  Forget about platinum albums and awards and the whole bit.  I think that sharing love is the ultimate form of success.

I admit – sometimes I feel like I could be doing more, could be more – and not just as a musician, but as a human being.  For instance, I could certainly be more patient — with myself especially — in many regards.  But at the end of the day I’m a working musician, making a living entirely from my musical skill set, wearing a variety of hats – pianist, songwriter, rock ‘n’ roller, choir director, vocalist, band leader, occasional studio session player — and while doing it all, I have my good health, a growing and loyal fan base and the most loving and supportive friends I could ever hope for.

My original dream, deep down?  I have to quote Ray Charles here: “I never wanted to be famous, I only wanted to be great.”  Really, all I want is to speak the language of music in as many dialects as my abilities will allow, share my love of music with others and to get as good as I can at doing it.   I can’t tell you how many folks have approached me after a performance and say, “I can tell that you just love to play.”  And it’s true, I absolutely love it.  What more, really, can I ask for than that?

Today, I’m headed to a songwriting competition in Tinmouth, Vermont.  I am not going with the intention of winning; rather, I’m going with the intention of sharing what I love to do with all my heart, to support the other songwriters and to make new friends.

That, to me, is what success — what life — is all about.

Saturday Morning Musings – My one wild and precious life

Tags

domestic abuse, emotional abuse, Heather Pierson, life, love, Mary Oliver, moving on, music, Saturday Morning Musings, The Summer Day, travel, traveling

In the last two lines of her poem “The Summer Day”, Mary Oliver poses an incredibly haunting question:

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do / with your one wild and precious life?”

My first encounter with these words came several years ago, during a time that now seems like an entirely different life, like an old acquaintance, someone I used to know.

And I suppose it was.

I was living in Fryeburg, Maine, working four part time jobs. (Yes, four.)  I was playing music while wearing one of those many hats, but my true talents of performing and songwriting were lying almost entirely dormant.

Why?

Well, that’s a long sad story, but I will give you a condensed version:

For the several years that I lived in Fryeburg, I was in an increasingly harmful relationship with a deeply controlling and manipulative man. Did he beat me? No – the bruising that I endured was much more insidious.  He didn’t attack my body.  He attacked my mind – my self-worth, my self-esteem, my humanity.

That’s the worst kind of abuse.

So, when I first heard Mary Oliver’s question, its salience stunned me; it immediately brought tears to my eyes. It seemed to underscore everything of importance and meaning in my life. This wise woman, this gifted poet, was offering me a way out.

Sadly, it would take me a few more years before I would be able to answer Mary’s question with any sort of confidence.

But that question stayed with me, hung over me, tugged at the corners of the veil.

Finally in February 2010, after encouragement from and with the help of very dear friends, I broke free and reclaimed my life.  There are some deep wounds that are still healing, and patience has never been my strong suit.  But, just like with any serious physical injury, the millimetric movement towards wholeness of spirit will take time.

It is still taking time.

In the three years since, I have come to know and experience the fullness of love, joy, exciting uncertainty, respect, adventure, discovery – all the best qualities of a life fully lived.

As I type these words, I am also preparing to leave for a conference in Rhode Island, where I will be one of ten performers (out of a juried pool of seventy) in front of an audience of fellow songwriters and musicians, venue operators, radio DJs and other music biz folks.  What an awesome opportunity this is!  I am also reflecting on three years of so many amazing experiences that have found me making so many new friends, creating an entire catalog of new music and forging incredible new bonds; meeting and falling in love with my best friend and traveling to nearly every corner of the U.S. with him and sharing my music and myself on concert stages, in coffeehouses, at open stages, in people’s homes; seeing the Grand Canyon at sunset and the midwestern plains at sunrise; hearing the thump and roar of a second line in New Orleans and the hustle and bustle of downtown Chicago; smelling the Pacific Ocean in San Diego and fresh tortillas in the New Mexico desert.  And in addition to all of that – actually making a living with this sort of life!  If a messenger from the future had visited my former self in Fryeburg – the timid, depressed, downtrodden one – and told me what awaited me in my life these past three years, I wouldn’t have believed a word of it.

And here I am today!  With so many reasons to smile!

So, with my one wild and precious life, I intend to continue living in full pursuit of my dreams – to share my love of music and of life with as many people as I can, and to experience this planet as fully as I can until I can no longer.

And how about you?