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If I write long appreciations of those storytellers who deserve
to be appreciated, I'll never get to everyone. Even with short ones
I'll only get to a few.
At Doug Lipman's 50th birthday party (held just before his 51st
birthday) we stood in a circle and each took one minute to appreciate
Doug. Let's appreciate each other now . . . ain't much sense waiting
till the funeral.
I appreciate Connie Regan-Blake's tremendous contribution to
storytelling and to the National Storytelling Association. Connie
and Jimmy Neil Smith watered the National Festival when it was
just a sprig and now its a mighty tree.
Hooray for Laura Simms who has gone to all parts of the earth
and made friends with storytellers everywhere. Her reach is truly
global. My dream is that storytellers will be a worldwide family.
Laura had the dream long before me. The rest of us are just catching
up to her.
Kudos to John Basinger, storyteller, teacher, director, actor,
interpreter for the deaf, and Professor Emeritus. The Three Rivers
Community Technical College dedicated its auditorium to John and
will fund an annual production to honor him.top of page
I
had the most wonderful time telling stories at the Christmas Revels
at the Sanders Theater in Cambridge. The Revels celebrates the great
rituals of life-light and darkness, birth and death.
This year, the Revels was about the Romani, the "Gypsies." The
Rom came out of Northern India about a thousand years ago, and
have traveled the earth, remaining a powerful culture. The show
celebrated their dance, song, and rituals - and their passionate
and beautiful music.
I came to admire the Rom, who have come through such hardships.
Five hundred thousand Rom were killed in the Nazi concentration
camps. But they go on.
I had such a joyous time sitting on stage, watching the Indian
dancers and listening to the haunting music. I loved telling stories
as part of a huge cast. The chorus had worked since September;
they were splendid. Tom Pixton's Romanian band was amazing.
And then there was the Flamenco music and dancing. Flamenco
music came from the rhythm of Gypsy blacksmiths. The cry of the
Flamenco singer, Fernando, seemed like the cry of a whole people.
Roberto, Isabel, and Faustion Rios were unforgettable.
We did 16 shows for about 18,000 people. I felt part of a big
merry family.top of page
The 25th National Storytelling
Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee was a magical weekend.
Saturday morning was my chance to tell "The Spirit of the Great
Auk." My heart was really in that story. I wanted to tell it at
this festival, in the great Appalachian hills.
Once again, Doug Lipman and I sat down by the platform. Michael
Parent joined us. They gave me attention and encouragement, and
I don't think I've ever felt as prepared for anything in my life.
Jackson Gillman masterfully handled the emcee duties in about
30 seconds - and I was off on that journey. A journey of the sea.
The laughter of the audience sounded like the waves themselves.
I felt I was on the sea, and they were with me. I felt buoyed
and encouraged, and able to concentrate completely.
Toward the end of the story, there's a very dramatic moment
when the main character, Dick Wheeler, is exhausted and just wants
the voyage to end. But he has opened up his heart to the sea,
and he hears the sea speak.
I didn't realize it, but as that scene was taking place, there
was a thumping sound all through the tent. My wife Linda looked
at our daughter Laura and said, "That's his heartbeat!" I was
wearing a clip-on microphone and it picked up my heartbeat. The
heartbeat sounding through that tent was one of the great gifts
I've been given. In some strange way, it was also the heartbeat
of the earth.
Saturday evening I performed with Connie Regan-Blake, Diane
Wolkstein , and Rangimoana Taylor of New Zealand. Connie set the
tone for the evening just coming into the tent. She shone with
a sense of joy and welcome, and told with that same joy. Diane
told a Hindu love story; she became a flame and a cosmic egg appeared
before us. Rangimoana leapt on stage, told a dramatic story, and
repeated it without words. Fascinating! It was a beautiful evening
of storytelling.
When the festival was over, a few of us sat in a breakfast spot
and went around in a circle, saying what the festival meant to
each of us: David Holt, Connie Regan-Blake, Laura Simms, Phil
Blake, and my wife Linda and daughter Laura. When it got to be
our daughter Laura's turn, she tried to speak but couldn't. She
just cried. The festival meant so much, there were no words. I
think she speaks for all of us!top of page
Pat Schneider is one of the strongest, most wonderful
women I have ever met. She is a poet, a novelist, an essayist, and
a teacher. In December, for the second time, I went to one of Pat's
writing workshop in Amherst, Massachusetts.
Pat encourages the unconscious to guide the pen. So the writer
is as delighted and astonished as the listeners in the group.
Pat knows a secret. She knows we are all artists. She knows it
so deeply, that the artist inside you cannot resist. So the artist
leaps out and dances around Pat's living room!
One of the finest books I've read in years is Pat's, Wake
Up Singing, a spiritual autobiography that has the swell
of a symphony. For more information, call her at 413-253-3307.top of page
My friend Connie Regan-Blake was talking about
good road blocks in life. We've all experienced driving down the
main road and coming to a detour. The experience can be merely annoying
or a chance to see another road, some different houses, maybe children
playing basketball in a driveway. Connie was thinking of those roadblocks
we come on in life.
When my son Ted was about twelve he really wanted to play left
field for the Red Sox. The dream continued into college. After
freshman year at the University of Chicago, Ted wanted to take
a year off and learn to catch a fly ball perfectly. He thought
that if you could do one thing perfectly in life you would be
accomplishing something important. And who knows . . . it might
lead to playing left field for the Sox.
Ted wrote several Red Sox players to see if they would help
him in his quest. They did not respond.
In time, Ted realized that the baseball road was blocked, so
he took another road. He climbed glaciers in Chile, he went to
Spain after college for a year to polish his Spanish, he went
to Alaska and climbed Denali (Mt. McKinley). And now he's pursuing
a Master's Degree in Creative Writing, and leading NOLS expeditions
in the summer.
Ted took a different road and it opened up a world. There are
times when a roadblock leads to the most wonderful adventures.top of page
This
past fall, I tried an experiment. I decided to take three minutes
every day to look at a natural object.
I would often pick up an oak or a maple leaf, just after it
had fallen, and pay attention. I enjoyed holding the stem and
rolling it in my fingers. I noticed the smell changed as the leaf
began to dry. I discovered that sometimes that three minutes spent
with the leaf was the most powerful time of the day. It was a
time of ease and exuberance.
Try it! You'll be surprised!
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