Curated Collection: Silent Sundays

This video gathers together 12 of my favorite Silent Sunday images from the past year (2021)  — one chosen from each month — with an original piece of music as soundtrack. I’ve enjoyed the Sundays, and the days leading up to them, when I am attuned to the world through the lens of the camera lens.

Peace (in the quiet),

CLMOOC 2022 Calendar Creation Collaboration

I was so happy when Wendy and others put out the call for another Collaborative Calendar for CLMOOC — it’s a lovely way to end a difficult year and to find a way forward into the new year.

Download a free copy of the calendar, which has art, photographs, music and more from people from all around the world, all loosely connected to the CLMOOC experience of making art, sharing ideas, remixing with appreciation, and more.

Go to CLMOOC to get your own copy

Peace (in a new year),

When In The (Re)Wild … Explore the Trails

My friend and collaborator Terry Elliott has been on a “re-wilding” learning adventure, an internal and creative ‘hike’ of art and remix through words and poems and stories and media, and as is his nature, Terry has often invited others along.

Yesterday, he shared a poem and invitation for “trailblazing” and a phrase in his invitation to make something struck me: “… creating a chord on a piano that you don’t know how to play ..”

So I did.

I pulled out my keyboard and plugged it in, found an interesting sound, and then with my left hand, I just sort of dropped it on the lower keys. It’s possible my fingers knew how to find a chord on their own (not that I am a keyboardist but I can do some basics) but the dissonance reverberation of where my fingers landed spurred my right hand to find a note, and then another, and soon, I had a melody developing. (Later, I wondered if I had pirated that melody line from somewhere else … it arrived so easily that I figured, maybe it’s not mine.)

I began to shift my left hand, too, moving the pattern of hand-drop around a bit, but intentionally not paying attention to where my fingers were landing. Eyes closed now. My attention was on the sound, and the small gaps where dissonance and tension opened up into something clearer, and my simple melody lines of my right hand continued to dance over the top of those “chords” of my left hand.

This took me all of about ten minutes to complete, with no planning and very little thinking and the record button “on” and, you know, I liked the results very much. I added the music to an image rendition of Terry’s poem. Trailblazing is always worth the time.

Peace (and keys),