Four years
I’ve been blogging since April of 2022. That’s a little over four years. Sheesh, that’s a long time.
I wondered, a few weeks ago, what spurred me to blog in the first place, and I was surprised to find that my first blog was about working on a short film, on which I’m still working. Back then, it was called Mourning Has Broken and is now called Symphony of Grief.
Four artists
In 2022, I wrote: “We’re living through unprecedented times of uncertainty and loss right now. Some of us are seeking ways to process our GRIEF through ART. Mourning Has Broken is a short film about four artists grieving the loss of loved ones, who collaborate to create a work of art together. Dick’s gorgeous song I Never Could know inspires the work. Brilliant musicians all; Nancy Ives on cello, Ed Bennett on bass and Todd Strait on drums. Led in recording by the stunning Randy Porter, it’s lovely.
Four months
We’re still working on the film. Several times I’ve thought “We’re in the home stretch!” And then comes another important stream of creativity. Most recently, it was the addition of two wonderful audio description consultants, Rick Hammond and Pearl Outlaw. In the beginning, years ago, my hope was to make a work that would be accessible to as many humans as possible. Beautifully integrated captions, that are also spoken text that will provide enough information for blind and low-vision consumers is our goal. That turned out to be a larger mountain to climb than I had initially thought. Now we are closing in on that goal with Rick and Pearl in the mix.
For Rebecca Kilgore
Heartbreakingly, since we began the film, collaborator Dick has sustained another devastating loss — his wife and my friend and collaborator Rebecca Kilgore.
For humanity
In 2026, I could repeat my first sentence. This is a time of unprecedented uncertainty, loss, and heartbreak. And truth be told, I continue to process grief over both of my parents’ passings. Their DNA courses through my veins, and some of the wounds that I sustained as a child continue to hobble me. At my age! And yet, I continue this fool’s errand. This life. I’m interested.
What’s it all about?
For what?
Love. I want to feel and be able to freely share love. To look into the eyes of another and have absolutely no interest in descending into my lifeless iPhone. I want to be human. A breathing, mistake-making, ridiculous human. A keeper of a beating heart that sometimes beats in unison with another.
For love
I’m off to Rancho La Puerta, in Mexico, on Saturday with my beloved collaborator Julia Francis. Our offerings are about connecting to the past. Through sound. Music. Our ancestors are rest stops on the highway of our DNA. How far does it go back? Hundreds of years? Thousands? I’m tempted to ask AI, but I think I’ll stick with my own thoughts, and if you’re a scientist, dear reader, enlighten me. Can we heal old wounds, welcome the past to move through to the next level. To move closer to true love?
For being
To be or not to be, that is the question.