I started a class with Stephanie Schneiderman in September. It’s title: You Are the Song. It’s a seven-week course that has led me and several other humans in a step-by-step process of lyric writing and melody composition to create, record and perform an original song. Yikes, right!? Not at all. Stephanie so tenderly and thoughtfully guided us into writing mountains of words, which led to nuggets of truth that led to lyrics pulled from our hearts and histories. Last week we recorded our songs at The Rye Room with Matt Greco engineering, and the experience will culminate in a performance at the end of the month.
My song, Precious Gems, came from an idea I had years ago. I cut out life-size jewelry from magazines and newspapers to wear around my neck instead of real jewelry. I’d see them, and other luxe items in publications and wonder, “Who buys that? That necklace is probably the price of my house!” Not just any jewels. I’m talking, BVLGARI, Cartier, Chanel, the jewelry giants. The kind of items folks wear to the Academy Awards or The Grammys or the mother of all glamour events, The Met Gala! Yes, I’d love to wear the jewels. Will I have the opportunity? Not likely. Why not cut them out and pretend? At this moment in our history, it seems even stranger for these types of advertisements to be a part of our daily lives. My awareness of income disparity and food insecurity increases daily.
You can read the lyrics to my song:
I cut jewels from a magazine
Rounding my scissors over paper gems of green
A neck smooth and long,
Is it paper? Is it stone?
Does this stone appear by magic?
This jewel will never belong to me
It’s just paper glancing my skin
Where does it end, and I begin?
Move toward what moves toward you
Your breath will find the truth
Is this all there is? Am I paper or stone?
I touch my heart and I am known
I see myself in a magazine
My life appealing, looking like a beauty queen
Shiny pages all dreams
No life in between
Something that is made by magic
Yes, someday I’ll be born again
It’s merely pressure and time
‘Til you’ll wear me round your neck.
Move toward what moves toward you
Your breath will find the truth
Is this all there is? Am I paper or stone?
Is this all there is? Am I paper or stone?
I touch my heart and I am known
Let’s cut jewels from a magazine
Our slender necks will wear paper gems of green
Blood runs through our veins
Are we not all the same?
Move toward what moves toward you
Your breath will find the truth
Is this all there is? Am I paper or stone?
Is this all there is? Am stone or am I sky?
Is this all there is? Oh, why, why, why?
Is this all there is?
We are paper and stone
Just touch your heart and you’ll be known.
Jewels
Last week I also attended a luncheon — that word evokes a world of privilege itself — to benefit Central City Concern. What an organization. The work they do touched my heart deeply. We heard from four employees of the organization who sang the praises of the Hooper Detoxification Stabilization Center. The compassion and love in that room for those four people and their colleague Bryant, whom I happened to be sitting with at lunch and whose story was shared through video, was palpable. To get there, I took the MAX from Gresham to downtown. The event was at the Portland Art Museum, and it was a gorgeous day. There were hundreds of like-minded Portlanders riveted to Mayor Wilson’s talk about where we are as a city, and I felt proud to be an Oregonian.
We are humans who care and love out loud.
After I left, I held my head high as I walked through downtown, to the Amtrak Station. I took a wrong turn, which led to meeting Kristin Van Buskirk, of Woonwinkel, on the street — if you haven’t visited Woonwinkel, DO! We chatted about the little things we need to do to keep our creative juices flowing. Me, I’m learning the clarinet — for SpongeBob at Portland Playhouse in Spring of 2026 — and she may dive back into some drawing. We agreed, the perfect mantra is: low expectations, live frugally on surprise. Thank you, Alice Walker! I’ve never been so happy to have taken a wrong turn. The sun was shining, folks were out and about downtown and after hearing firsthand about the ways in which Portland is doing good, I was flying high.
Wearable art
If that wasn’t enough, I met the most wonderful woman on the train to Seattle to attend the SCAC Access Deep Dive Conference on Thursday. Somehow, we got to talking about gospel music, and she mentioned LaRhonda Steele. I mentioned to her LaRhonda’s benefit concert on the eighteenth. If you love LaRhonda as we do, you can donate to her fight against cancer campaign here. I feel humbled by the embarrassment of riches I have experienced in these last several weeks, including working on a new musical written by Marv Ross with a treasure trove of artists with Brian Weaver and Mel Kubik-Bondy at the helm. As the train rocks and rolls me back to Portland, life is good.