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WebLog Entries |
The Real and the Surreal
What an incredible 5 days of travel! It was kind-of Steve Martin/John Candy-land to me (Planes Trains and Automobiles); Nashville to Denver to Bismarck to Hazen to Bismarck to Denver to Jackson Hole to Denver (boy do I love Denver!) to Las Vegas to Mesquite to Las Vegas to Nashville. Whew! Travel does wear a body out, I confess. But I always meet some amazing folks all along the way.
Thursday I was in Hazen, North Dakota, home of the North Dakota roach. ;) (a.k.a. the super-bug, Box Elder . . . for the gang). An all day youth rally planned by super-genius Ken and his lovely wife, Cherie, a kindred spirit if ever there was one. About 400 youth on fire for God, and man did they show it! It was an absolute blast. My favorite part of the day was the chat with the girls; it was actually a keynote on chastity, but I generally don't focus on that as much as on self-esteem. Satan is a thief and a robber, and if he robs you of that, he'll rob you of everything else, guaranteed. We talked about believing Psalm 139, and reading it every day if necessary!...we questioned and pondered and laughed and cried and figured together, how to believe what God says through the Psalmist, that we are indeed wonderfully made. Crazy great stuff.
Friday it was off to Jackson Hole, WY, and may I say that God really had his thinking cap on the day he made Wyoming. What a beautiful place! It was snowing lightly; like powder falling from the sky and dusting the landscape. How anyone could see that sight and not believe there's a creator God is beyond me. Anyhow, I gave a concert for the Eucharistic Marian conference; a room full of energized Catholics who sang their hearts out! I met lots of great folks there, and wished I'd had more time to spend. Thanks Susie, for the invite, and especially Jon and Kevin and Andrew and Chris, for open mic night and seafood.
Saturday I flew to Las Vegas, and was picked up by a limo. That was so funny. The last time I was in a limo it was my senior prom; my date worked for the local funeral home, and he picked me up in the funeral home limo (with their logo plastered on the side. Kinda creepy, huh?). Anyhow, Howie (the driver) and I had a great chat. I am sure he could tell I wasn't exactly the limo type. What a cool guy! We drove to Mesquite, NV, where I met Matt Maher and his band for a Sunday concert and mass. May I say, Rick and Patty were the most INCREDIBLE of hosts. I am for sure coming back. We played in the ballroom at the casino, complete with Georgia O'Keefe reminiscent carpet and a hanging disco ball. I just can't relay to you the beauty of doing Mass with the "ding ding ding!" of slot machines and a disco ball hanging overhead. Jesus is everywhere. That was SO cool!
Monday morning I hopped back in the limo, and Howie drove while I rested and prayed and pondered. Without wanting to sound trite; it was an hour and a half drive through the desert back to the airport at 6:00 a.m. The sun was rising in the desert over the mountains, and it was incredible to see; I found myself feeling so strange. "Lord, what am I doing in a limo driving through the desert . . ."; all I could think about was the people in Africa and India and Ukraine who struggle for mere existence, and me riding in a limo with a stocked bar. It was such a surreal moment. God, just forgive me for the times I am complacent. Which is a lot.
There is no better place than home. I couldn't wait to wrap my arms around my kids; they have bruises now from me hugging them! And my 13th (yikes) wedding anniversary was Monday, so coming home was all the sweeter. I love my family. God is so good.
Off this Friday for Winter Park, FL, to see my friends at St. Margaret Mary for a few days, then Disneyworld (talk about surreal!) with the kids and to see my grandpa, who lives in Naples. I haven't been able to see him for three years; it will be a sweet reunion.
A prayer request, please, for my brother Phil, who is battling cancer. How great it is to be able to blog that. I love Spirit and Song.
Blessings, Peace, Love,
- Sarah |
Two Great Weekends!
Hey all! It has been a great couple of weeks. Last weekend found me in Lawrenceburg, IN for some wonderful events at a beautiful parish. The folks were awesome. There was a Friday night concert, complete with about 20 little kids singing and dancing with me for a couple of songs. Then Saturday morning I gave The Story workshop, had a talk with musicians in the afternoon which was GREAT. I let them do the talking, and boy did I get an education; we sang songs together for an hour, and they think Spirit and Song 2 rocks! (which, of course, it does) Following liturgy was a beautiful evening of prayer, praise and worship. Thanks, Kim, and all my wonderful new friends; I was so blessed by all of you, your great spirits and deep love for God.
Then Sunday I flew back to Nashville, got my car at the airport, drove to Cadiz, KY (really rural and INCREDIBLY beautiful western KY, one of my favorite places) where I met Ray and Bill from Ceili Rain for a great concert. It was a fun gathering of folks; kids from 5 to 85. A group of seven women wearing red and purple clothes and purple hats came, and they sang louder than anyone! It was such a blast; great sound, great crowd, really energetic and fun. Thanks to Mike - you are sooooo awesome - how blessed the diocese of Owensboro is to have you - we need to jam one of these days.
By the time I got home I was spent, but in a good way; my little people came running to the door and we just sat on the couch and hugged and snuggled for a half an hour. That is the only part of this life I find terribly difficult. I am so grateful for a supportive and loving husband and two sweet little girls who seem to understand what mommy does, but that does not make it easier to be away, though they are so good about it. Coming home is always so sweet.
And this weekend my husband and I went to St. Paul, MN for the Unity Awards. We are actually on the plane coming home at the moment, sleepy but happy! My parents flew to Nashville from Ohio to spend the weekend with our kids; we are so grateful for them. It was a blast. Meeting all those cool brothers and sisters who make music for God was the best part. I had heard so many of them and had not met most, so that was just a great privilege. Hanging with my friends from S&S was great, too! Curtis Stephan is just about the best guy I know and one of the finest artists around, and he gave a great performance. I loved hearing everyone play; John Angotti, my new friend Sara Torres, Tony Melendez, and especially Kara Klein, who gave an amazing performance dedicated to Terri Schaivo. Susan Stein is a beautiful sister, and I know she put her heart (and probably too much time!) into planning the weekend. Another great joy was getting to play with two locals, whom I hired to play with me sight unseen (but not sound unheard!). Brian and Bruce hats off to you two - you guys are great - and thanks Bill. I am so glad you played with me because you were not on stage enough ;)
On the way to the airport this morning, we got to know our cabbie, Twila a bit; she recently graduated with a Bachelor of Arts degree in art; her specialty was weaving and textiles. My heart really went out to her as she told us about her passion for fabric arts, going into detail excitedly about a dying/weaving process that she feels called to practice; but she simply does not have the money to support her art, buy the supplies, etc., which is why she drives a cab. I think I have said it a thousand times, but I felt that with Twila this morning God was prodding me to say it again; THANK YOU to you who support music and the fine arts. God made people like Twila to be creative spirits, creating in his image, but we can not really do what we do as artists without support from people. I am thanking you, really, and I so mean it, for every time you go to a concert, buy a CD, go to an art gallery, a poetry reading, buy a book, tell a cantor or music director thank you, etc. It means the world to those who can't help but use those gifts; these encouragements keep the creative spirit going. You are all an encouragement and a blessing.
I am looking forward to seeing friends in Erie, PA next weekend; we'll have a blast!
Please keep praying for and supporting our friends on the southern coasts. They still need us tremendously.
In about an hour, I plan to be shoeless, jumping happily on the trampoline with the two best kids in the world. How great is that?!
Blessings - peace - Sarah
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Laundry 101
There's a phrase we've all heard which references work-related superstress; "going postal". As of late, I'm wondering why people don't call it "going domestic". I just threw in the fourth load of laundry of the day. There's gotta be more to it.
At my house, the laundry never ends. No sooner do I throw in that last load and shout "hooray!" than someone brings home a load of sweaty bike clothes (uh, someone...), or comes in from the yard with a shirt full of sand, or has what moms of toddlers everywhere lovingly refer to as a "blowout". I'm forever tripping over cast-off princess costumes, underwear, pajamas. I must go through eight dishtowls a day on average.
To those about to be wed, or considering it....the one piece of advice mom gave me, which I didn't listen to but wish I had, came right before my wedding. It was something like "pick your tasks carefully. Whatever you two decide to do chore-wise in the first month of marriage, it's gonna stick!". She was right. I should have let my sweet significant other have more laundry control. Actually, that probably wouldn't have worked. Control-freak women, unite.
There are lessons in all this domestic bliss. At least, there should be. Maybe the laundry is like God's love; never ending, always stockpiling up around you, ready for a good soap. No, that doesn't sound right. Hmm. Oh, I know...maybe it's like scripture; the more you think you've got it all figured out and finished with, the more dirt there is underneath. Naah, that sounds wrong. Ok, I know; maybe it's related somehow to the Mary and Martha story; but then, I've always wondered, if Martha hadn't been just who she was, Mary might have been walking around in a dirty burlap sack all the time donning the fleas of a thousand camels.
So, what? What is this endless stuff, these worldly wrappings thrust upon us by the big misjudgement (understatement!) of our thoughtless ancestors, Adam and Eve?
Humility; doing the dirty work with a humble heart. Service; loving my family enough not to "go domestic", and not to expect to be thanked. Gratitude; for all those tiny socks that muct be matched, ten thousand pair of princess underoos, sweaty bike clothes, and the family I treasure who get them dirty.
Or, maybe, it's just laundry.
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Anything Excellent
I have really enjoyed the latest blogs about songwriting...have wanted to add two cents, but needed a motivator. Evie, my 2 1/2 year old, was the motivator. Yesterday we were in the mall (rainy night, Disney Store, etc.), and there's a new shop with very bad reproductions of paintings. Evie really loves Vincent Van Gogh, and saw in the window a Van Gogh-like reproduction, pointed and said "look mommy, Starry Night". It was close (but no cigar...). I said "right!", to which she added, "look, that's the angel". I stared right at the bad repro and said "you know, Evie, I never noticed that before".
Scripture says (with paraphrasing apologies) "whatever is lovely, whatever is true, whatever is noble and good, anything excellent and worthy of praise, let your mind think upon these things". Wow! Note the word "whatever"....not the words "whatever mentions God". How cool.
Just my own personal feelings about songwriting. This is only how it is for me...and just my opinions about my own silly journey, so sorry if I am stepping on any toes.
In all honesty, I have never written solely to get published, or to have a "hit", or to try make the world see things my way, or even to try to give some great glory to God (as if he needs a song from me!). As much as people may think I'm dense for saying it, I simply write because I can't help myself. I'm just compelled. I write about what I know, and about what and whom I love. That's it.
Maybe that's why I relate more to the mystic side of spiritual thinking than anything. I am one of "those" who believes that our God, creator God, is absolutely, positively present and evident in all things of beauty, goodness, loveliness, and he compells souls (both knowingly and unknowingly) to create, just as he creates. God is in Mozart, Hayden, Rachmaninoff, Copeland, Sondheim, Sting. He is there, in DaVinci, Reubens, Van Gogh (just ask Evie), Hart-Benton, Traylor, Pei. He graces the lines of Shakespeare, Browning, Austen, Sandberg, Plath and Lennon & McCartney. I truly believe that the fact someone does not intimately know God has no bearing on whether or not he/she can create things of beauty directly authored by God. If one has been given that gift, I think one can not help themselves. It just happens.
As believers, we should be creating the BEST we can. If you are compelled to write a song, remember that these things take time. Don't expect the world's best song to happen in ten minutes (though it can!). Give it to God. Invest in a rhyming dictonary, a thesaurus, and a few good books of poetry. As for a lyric, you will know when it's right.
And remember that God doesn't always want every song, poem, piece of art created to be accepted by the world. Acceptance is NOT the point in art (remember Van Gogh). Maybe he's trying to tell YOU something. Maybe it's his gift to you. Listen for that...I've got about a thousand of those in my filing cabinet. Truly.
So, my really humble opinion: Love God, write your heart...and whether you mention Him or not, you will give God the glory.
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Where There Is Doubting...
I know for sure that if I had been any one of the apostles, it would have been Thomas. Jesus would have come into that upper room, and in spite of the fact that he looked like Jesus, walked like Jesus, talked like Jesus, had that robe and crazy-brilliant light around him (not to mention the wound marks), I would have gotten right up close to him and said “hey…who in the heck are you?”. Ick.
Doubting stinks! And yet, I think that even in our doubting, God gives us confirmations... little signs that say “hey, it’s ok to doubt. None of this is easy. I get it.” I remember reading an interview with Mother Theresa a few years ago, in which she freely confessed that she was plagued by doubt every single day (how could she not be in those surroundings?), and I felt so comforted to read that. Lately it’s not even so much about doubting God as it is about doubting myself. On the new record, I have a song lyric that says “I have no idea what I’m doing, Lord”….that generally sums it up!
But I had a little confirmation today thanks to Max, my cab driver to the Orange County airport. Max is from Iran. He’s been here in the states for 25 years. He’s well educated. He attended High School in London, college in the states, and has his degree in Computer Science. He worked 15 years for a company and had, as he put it, “the good life”; an incredible salary, company car, nice house, lots of girlfriends. Then he got laid off. He pounded pavement for a year, to no avail, only to come to the conclusion that he had to get a job or starve. He sold his house. He became a cab driver. And he’s been driving cabs for 15 years.
Max is generally miserable. He wants a wife, a home, children. He wants to teach them good morals and values. He wants a better job. He has, as he says, come to hate America, and it is time for him to leave. He plans to move to Australia or New Zealand. He said, “do you know what the problem with America is? It’s corporate. Everyone is out for themselves. No one cares for anyone else. The poor get poorer. Men live on the streets. People have so much, but they want more and more and more for them. I hate it here. But no one cares.”
I didn’t respond right away…I was trying to process what he’d said. I figured he’d been burned pretty badly, not to mention he’d probably had to carry some real insensitive jerks and lousy tippers in his cab over the course of fifteen years (uh, I used to be a waitress). And after a few seconds I told him that I thought he was wrong. There are people who care, people who love each other, people who are trying to do for one another. I told him that I’ve seen it, I’ve seen God do great things through people, and there is good, and people do care. And I told him I would love to pray for him. He told me not to, but I will anyhow.
I heard myself talking. It didn’t sound like a girl who doubted to me….it sounded like a girl who believed that Jesus was alive in the world, and in the hearts of people. And I was so glad for the test, and the brief exchange with Max, and for the fact that our conversation helped me through a little of my own self-doubt. I am not sure if I helped him, aside from the tip, but I felt better! Max was my angel today.
We are all here for a reason. We are all part of a story. Max is now a part of mine - 20 minutes of my life story - and I his. And even though I usually doubt that I am doing much good to this world, maybe God can use me. If he talked through a donkey…well, I guess maybe he can use me, too.
But I still have my doubts. J
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What makes Christmas Christmas...
We have been iced in (in Nashville?) for a few days now...I'm loving it! Nothing gives me greater pleasure that a big whopping excuse to go nowhere....I'm playing with kids, baking, cleaning out closets, filling bag after bag with stuff for Goodwill. Hooray, hooray. My husband's work closed the 23rd and 24th because of the weather...yippee!!! I think I'd make a good cloistered sister someday...gimme Starbucks, a couple of books and a snowstorm...I'll be just fine.
So what makes Christmas Christmas, aside from the birth of our dear Savior? For me, this year, I'd have to say my children. Santa and Jesus are all the rage this year...here are some of our highlights:
- Two mornings ago, we had two bucks grazing on the back lawn. Addie (4) looked out and said "uh-oh, mommy, Santa left some reindeer!" She decided they were Comet and Rudolph.
- Evelyn (2) thinks anything icy or snowy is a "snowman". She stared and stared at the icy world outside yesterday, saying "snowman! snowman!" For about twenty minutes.
- We made Christmas cookies (about six dozen, which in a snowed-in house with one person on weight watchers is a dangerous thing...). I asked Addie "why are we making cookies?" and she said "for Santa. And Jesus is coming!" I told her that was right, to which she added "yea, and Mary is coming, too, but Joseph has to work." ?
- Evie was swaying in front of the little Christmas tree in the playroom yesterday singing "Oh Christmas Tree" very softly. So sweet.
- Today we will bake a birthday pumpkin pie for baby Jesus (Addie wanted pie for the savior, not cake...too funny!...
- My favorite: praying with Addie the other night; we did our "and God bless ____" routine, to which she added "and God bless Mr. Santa Claus, and Mrs. Santa Claus". I said "are we done? Okay, I love you Jesus", and Addie replied "I love you Jesus. Happy Holidays!"
This came in an e-mail from my Grandpa today...it sums it all up. I don't think he'll mind my sharing it.
Dear Sarah,
At our Christmas service of Lessons and Bells your 87 year old grandfather got up and read the first 8 verses of Luke.
My Daily Word came up with the following for this day and I share it with you : "HOLY BIRTH" - Very possibly the most well-loved and often-repeated story in the world is the description of Jesus' birth in the Gospel of Luke. And each time I read or hear it again, it resonates with me - not just as an account of the birth of Jesus, but of the birth of my own soul's spiritual awareness. The unfolding of this sacred narrative has meaning for my own life's journey.
Part of me is like Joseph, skeptical at first, but gradually growing in understanding the ways of the Spirit. Mary represents my trusting, willing aspect, open to carrying the blessing of the Christ to others. The manger is my humble heart, prepared to receive the long-awaited Christ child. The infant Jesus is the Christ consciousness born within me, the blessed awareness of my spiritual life in God's grace."
Merry Christmas...may we all be Jesus for the weak, poor, suffering, those in want and need, those serving our country, and those who so need Christmas in their hearts.
Blessings to all this bright and beautiful season - Sarah
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Jesus In My Car
Before you read this, know it may sound nuts.
My aunt (a fellow musician) and I talked yesterday...we both came to the conclusion that if we are obsessive-compulsive about anything, it's songs. We will each listen to a song twenty or thirty times straight through until we dissect it's every meaning, every note, each internal rhyme (or sad lack thereof). We tear songs apart, like vultures on fresh meat (um, ew...) It's just who we are.
I have these many (many) months - uh, make that years - had very little time to do this art of dissection with anything but kid music. It's not pretty. The mistakes are many. The rhymes, predictable and without flare. The notes, too singable. The production, DISASTROUS. This morning I decided that if I had to listen to the soundtrack to Barbie's "The Princess and the Pauper" (which is among the better kid things I've heard) one more time, it was the white coat for me.
So, I got that rarest of all rare mommy times this morning - an hour by myself in the car, driving to and from the doctor's office. It was a moment. I had to take action.
Rifling through the back of the car I found Crowded House's "Woodface" record (so THAT'S where it went!), which absolutely without question ranks among the top ten records of all time for me. I popped it in. I hadn't heard it in about four years. I turned it up to eleven. ;) Track five..."Take The Weather". I stopped there. I replayed it, over and over and over and over. I must have played it thirty times. I sang loud, that extra third part harmony that the Finn brothers couldn't - or didn't want to - manage (being that there were just the two of them).
And then it happened...Jesus was in my car.
What I mean is, somehow those moments of listening to that crazy good song made me smile, sing, and thank Jesus for the thirty degree weather with sunny skies. It made me thank Him for my health, my family, my awesome girls, my friends. I felt really, really, good, and really, really happy. Better than I had in a few months. Encouraged, energized. And all it took was a song.
All this to say, I think that a thing of beauty is, simply, a thing of beauty...a gift from God; realizing that I have no clue about the spirituality of the Finn brothers, but they created a thing of beauty, which created a great moment for a tired mommy, which made me remember all that I am and all that I have in Jesus.
Tonight I'm going to throw "Ten Summoners Tales" in the back seat, just in case.
And hey...everywhere you go, always take the weather. Okay?
Blessings - Sarah |
Three Weekends...
The past month is a blur.
But a good blur. Three weeks ago I was in Hickory, NC with a totally AWESOME group of folks at St. Aloysius in Hickory, NC, for a concert and women's retreat. Though I was actually giving the retreat, when I left I felt like I had had a retreat myself...this is a lively parish! Thanks Kelie, Kathy, Fr. Bob and all who worked so hard for this event. You are the coolest!
Then, the next weekend, off to DC for back-to-back concerts. The first was at St. Mary's University in Emmitsburg, the coolest little town you will ever go to (um, watch out, you might find yourself lost in Pennsylvania!). St. Elizabeth Seton is buried there, and there are two very cool shrines. Tom (my guitarist/mando/vocal backup dude) and I did, as we called it, "drive-by shrining". The crowd was fabulous...thanks Sean! We had breakfast Saturday at a ten table mom & pop place, which served a bizzare dish called crab pretzels...I asked if I could take the advertisement/tent card off the table and the waitress gladly gave me one...perfect for my husband's studio. He loved the ad and wanted to yak all at the same time! You see, Nashville has not yet been graced with the presence of crab pretzels...must be a MD thing ;)
Then Saturday night to a really fun gig at St. Andrew's by the Bay in Annapolis with a lively group of folks! Annapolis is stunnuing...really.
So much so that I went back this past weekend! Found myself in DC once more, with Ruth and Mark and Marty and (would you believe it) Steve Angrisano. We had SUCH a cool time! The folks were terrific, all so hopspitable and eager to provide us with great food, great company, and great conversation (Ruth, I think I have finally figured out the meaning of life, thanks to you!!) ;) Steve and I had time to sit, chat, and write a couple of tunes, a huge blessing for artists who usually worry whether or not they will have time to take a shower, let alone write songs.
Then on Sunday I flew to Savannah, GA, to be with families of those who are being deployed to Iraq within six weeks. Over 18,000 folks will be shipped out. There was an amazing High Mass at the cathedral complete with an all boys military choir and the color guard. The bishop gave a beautiful homily. There was an afternoon activity and then a candlelight prayer vigil, where it was almost too hard for me to sing for the choking up in my throat. What an incredible group of people, and what amazing strength they posessed. Thanks, Fr. Joe, Fr. Lee, and all who helped with the event...you are so in my prayers.Thank you God for the service people and families of the Third Infantry, for their sacrifices and their commitment to our country.
The highlight of these trips for me was visiting the Naval Base at Annapolis. I have always wanted to see the base for many reasons, but none so close as for the fact that my family lost my uncle, George Gallagher Hart, my grandpa's only brother, in WW II. He was killed in action in April of '45 when a kamikaze struck his ship, the U.S.S. Sigsbee. George graduated from Annapolis, and I knew his name was carved into the walls of Memorial Hall, but had never been there. I obviously never knew my uncle, but have seen so many photos, heard so many stories, that I feel in my heart I know him. To walk the brick sidewalks was incredible...I thought the entire time, "wow, my unce walked on these same streets. He was here." It was so moving. When I walked up the approximately 100 steps into the main hall at Memorial Hall, my heart was really beating faster. I stepped into the enormous marble entryway, looking up at a 150 year old flag with the words "don't give up the ship" lovingly sewn onto blue fabric. I could imagine someone's wife, or perhaps a group of women, sewing this flag, knowing the sacrifice their families might be making under it. I moved to the left of the hall, found the class of 1944, and ran my fingers up the wall to the name of my uncle, one of about 75 from his class killed in action that same year. I guess I should have been overcome with sadness and a sense of loss...but rather, I felt an incredible sense of pride. That was my uncle. He died to make men free. The greatest gift one can give for another, Jesus said. I thought to myself, "thanks, uncle George". I can't really tell you more than that. It was amazing.
At this crucial time in our nation, no matter what side of the "fence" you fall on (or even if you're sitting right on it!), pray for our troops. They are sacrificing all they have, serving their country, and some dying, to make men free. I am truly grateful. After visiting my uncle's school, seeing his name, being with servicemen and their families about to be deployed, I know theirs is the greatest love.
Looking forward to Disneyworld with my family for Thanksgiving, then off for another two weeks of shows...yippee!
Visit the new website, if you can, http://www.sarahhartmusic.com.
Love, blessings, and God be with everyone, wherever you may be....
Sarah |
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