A moveable feast, according to Hemingway, is a concept that an event (ie ‘feast’) is a memory or state of being that had become a part of you, a thing that could always be with you no matter where you went or how you lived after, and that it could never be lost. An experience first fixed in time and space or a condition like happiness or love could be carried with you wherever you went in space and time.

In terms of choice - it was purely intuitional and also what showed up in my library cue, or a book any of my sisters read and liked enough to tell me about, or books suggested to me by readers and writers on Substack, or books by people I knew through my community.

I am super excited to announce that next year I’m stepping into a new role (for me) as a music director and I’m going on tour!

New cars make me nervous. Will we get along? Can I trust them? What types of quirks will they have and will I be able to live with that? How quickly will it turn into a messy car, stacked with mementos that sort of just meld into it. As I write this, I am avoiding the ‘final clean’ of Le Vibe, nicknamed ‘Tim’ by my friend Jason Crosby,

Everyone is on their own journey. And all I know is that mine is complex. I still have an inner shame voice if I eat what I deem in the moment as ‘too much’ or if the waist band on my pants feels a little too tight on any given day, or if I see a photo of myself and immediately think I look fat. This voice amplifies itself multiple times a day and is reinforced by not so subtle advertising everywhere.

So how do we go about finding wholeness on a more regular basis? It’s a question I am always asking, and I come to different answers all of the time. Lately I’ve been feeling pretty good physically, mentally and emotionally. A work in progress as always, I have found a lot of joy in living and one of the reasons is because I left the job that was killing me slowly.

…starting is hard. And once you do make it to the mat, the truth comes out. I’m not as flexible as I imagined. Damn I am out of shape. This floor is dirty. My dog is going to eat my face. I don’t breath deeply most of the time…

When you look back, what impacts you the most in your own life? Do you lean on traumatic events that shaped you, or do you revel in happy times? Do you remember when you were less aware and compare to times where you can’t unknow things anymore, and realize that is the rub? I know I do.

I must move more slowly, because I want to. I want to savor my conversations with you like they are precious mini pies eaten with spicy cocoa. Like the first morning snow. Like the string section in the Nutcracker Suite. I ask, how can I be of service, how can I love more, how can I exude peace when Kroger is crazy? I believe in it. I believe in small acts of kindness. I believe in mini pies. Dutch apple, chocolate ganache oreo, cheese graham cracker, ricotta custard and whatever else my ingredients lead me to. xoxo happy holidays,

Whether I am playing or experiencing it, music always continues to enrich my life. I consider it a gift to be able to step onto a stage and forget about everything except for the task at hand. I always receive back ten-fold what I put out into the environment as a performer. It is a shot of adrenaline to my spirit that I am always grateful to experience. It truly is magical.

JOY. Finding it in simple things. It is a wonderful arrival to my mindscape. Sometimes I was too busy over the years to appreciate joy. Does that sound strange? I thought I was depressed. But I was just overbooked. When not overbooked, it can be easy to lose joy again because you are too busy wondering what your purpose is. Instead, forget about it. Appreciate the mundane. This is me, talking to me, but I have to say, it’s all worth the grand efforts in pausing.