I’m drawn to the ocean. I have been since I was a small child, gathering sea glass on the beach with my grandmother. When I look out at the vast expanse of water, I feel a longing that I can’t explain. It’s more than just the sense that my problems are so very small in this big world, or an appreciation of the pure beauty of it. It’s a tugging, a pull deep in the recesses of my soul, trying to remind me of something I can’t quite grasp. As corny as it sounds, my heart actually aches at the sight of the sea. It is in those moments that I very seriously consider the notion of reincarnation. It seems to be the only thing that can explain the feeling that I’m lost and some little seaside village in another place and time is my home.
This sense, this crazy melodramatic feeling, is always followed by a strong desire to write stories. I just want to hide away somewhere for days, digging into that part of me that has lived a million lives. Instead, I usually just continue as I was, living day to day with a small, clearly defined hole in my heart and every excuse in the book repeating in my head.
The ocean does this to me. I know it, and I ignore it more often than not because, well, I see the ocean every day. Sometimes, though, that need to narrate is awakened by something unexpected; a photograph, a painting, or a song. I love when that happens, when inspiration strikes and I just have to sit down and write something.
The music of Mumford & Sons strikes that chord with me. Now that you think I’m completely insane, I’m going to end my slightly embarrassing diatribe right here, because the music really speaks for itself.
Here’s a little Mumford to start your Monday. Have a lovely week!
Welcome to Music Monday!
Mondays totally suck. I thought that a little music would be an excellent way to start the week. My first Music Monday post is going to be a bit self serving. This kind of goes along with the whole taking risks thing.
I sing to my children every night before bed. Each of them has a separate bedtime, and each gets to choose from my mini repetoire of bed time songs, which includes everything from The Rainbow Connection to Leaving on a Jetplane.
As I rocked and sang one night about two years ago, I found myself thinking about how we connect with our children through music. An idea began to blossom. My initial thought was to create an album of mothers singing their favorite “lullabys”, whatever they may be, and have the proceeds benefit the local children’s hospital. It stuck with me and, over the next few weeks, evolved into the concept of an album of local musicians singing songs inspired by their children.
I loved the idea so much that I contacted the hospital and presented it to them. They were hesitant at first, but gave me the go ahead to try. Needless to say, I had no idea where to start. Things became crazy; I took on a second job editing for a website, and I found out that I was pregnant with our third child. About six months later, my husband, who happens to be awesome, offered to take the reigns. He knew I was overwhelmed and exhausted and that the project was important to me. He also has a passion for local music and was excited to get in touch with musicians and make it happen.
About a year after my initial meeting with the hospital, the CD went to print. The result is better than anything I could have hoped for. To The Moon, To The Stars is a fantastic collection, showcasing some great local talent. Through the process of making it, I discovered that Portland is teeming with brilliant musicians. While I’m happy to raise money for the Barbara Bush Children’s Hospital, I’m also super excited for people to hear the music. It’s something I’m truly proud to have had a small part in creating.