Kansas City folks: On the evening of Mar. 31, I’ll be at a fundraiser at Notre Dame de Sion in Kansas City, MO, with my artwork, prints, cards, etc. I have a few tickets left (valued at $10 each) that I’m giving away. If you’re interested, email me at angela@ruralpearl.com with how many you need and your address. I’ll let you know if I’ve run out. Thanks!
“The key is to keep company only with people who uplift you, whose presence calls forth your best.”
It’s been a rough and tumble couple weeks. Stay tuned for new paper cuttings, new animations, new news, etc. Thanks for being here.
PS: That’s my pathetic, spoiled cat, Gilbert. He has an uncanny ability to tune out the world around him. What a life…
From the music’s description: “…Traditionally, the East wind represents a time of birth and new life emerging in nature. As you hear the birds gently greet you, imagine the childlike innocence and joy of observing the beauty around you. Indigenous people have used music to communicate their deepest hopes and beliefs to each other, and to the forces in the universe. The most ancient and natural forms of musical expression were the voice, the drum and the flute. These timeless channels of healing and meditation can also summon us to reflect on our own personal season of life in the “Journey to the Four Winds”. For Native Americans, traditional music usually recounted their experiences with all relationships in the world around them. Ideally, there existed no separation between our daily life, and the supernatural world, so our music was sacred. In the Circle of Life, the Four winds can be guides for us to forgive our yesterdays, hope for a healthy today, see more clearly with our hearts, and to humbly share with others what we’ve learned. In my music, I utilize unique indigenous instruments from around the world with their own colors and rhythms, to create harmonious offerings to the Four Winds of the Universe. Each of our lives is a valuable and beautiful part of the Universal Circle of which we are connected to. Our diverse cultures, age, gender, and experiences bring balance to the Circle, so that it continues to revolve smoothly…”
Excerpt from Song of Hiawatha, by Henry W. Longfellow:
Young and beautiful was Wabun;
He it was who brought the morning,
He it was whose silver arrows
Chased the dark o’er hill and valley;
He it was whose cheeks were painted
With the brightest streaks of crimson,
And whose voice awoke the village,
Called the deer, and called the hunter.
Lonely in the sky was Wabun;
Though the birds sang gayly to him,
Though the wild-flowers of the meadow
Filled the air with odors for him;
Though the forests and the rivers
Sang and shouted at his coming,
Still his heart was sad within him,
For he was alone in heaven.
But one morning, gazing earthward,
While the village still was sleeping,
And the fog lay on the river,
Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise,
He beheld a maiden walking
All alone upon a meadow,
Gathering water-flags and rushes
By a river in the meadow.
Every morning, gazing earthward,
Still the first thing he beheld there
Was her blue eyes looking at him,
Two blue lakes among the rushes.
And he loved the lonely maiden,
Who thus waited for his coming;
For they both were solitary,
She on earth and he in heaven.
And he wooed her with caresses,
Wooed her with his smile of sunshine,
With his flattering words he wooed her,
With his sighing and his singing,
Gentlest whispers in the branches,
Softest music, sweetest odors,
Till he drew her to his bosom,
Folded in his robes of crimson,
Till into a star he changed her,
Trembling still upon his bosom;
And forever in the heavens
They are seen together walking,
Wabun and the Wabun-Annung,
Wabun and the Star of Morning.
I got this neat little cheap-o midi keyboard that plugs right into my computer, so now I can make weird music to go along with my weird animations! Exciting times ahead. New animations coming soon.
When you feel like you’re losing track of your mind, it’s good to have a place to go where you know you can get it back. Thank you, gravel roads.
Call me what you will (dork, nerd, weirdo are acceptable), but before I dug my heels into my day’s to-do list, I took a quick early jaunt around county roads, with a stopover at Warnock Lake to take in the sunshine and sip on my coffee with all kinds of birds flying and floating around… and Fraggle Rock on the radio.. I love Fraggle Rock and the soundtrack that goes with it. Here’s the words to Traveling Matt & his Nephew Gobo’s song “Come Follow Me”:
“Everyday the world begins again
Sunny skies or rain
Come and follow me.
Every morning shows me more and more
So much to explore
Come and follow me
Every morning, everyday, every evening
Callin’ me away.
While the sun goes round
I’ll still be found
Following the sound
Something’s callin’ me.
When the world goes drifting back to bed
Memories in my head
Wonders follow me.
Every morning, everyday, every evening
Callin’ me away.”
(c) Jim Henson, etc.