Oh Pluto

I don't have the juice for a long post, but want to tell you that I am launching a video of a new song of mine. The song, "Oh Pluto" is inspired by NASA's New Horizons Mission to Pluto and our quest for knowledge and understanding AND the "magic" in it all (since I was a little boy, for me).

Christine Lavin prompted me to write the song AND make the video. She actually co-produced the video with me,and took the vast majority of video clips in the project.

You can find it here. I LOVE this project. It feels like the most complete piece of art I have ever produced -- from song to video and all the hundreds of steps in between.

https://youtu.be/ALrHiQnkcpc

Song Stories

I have been writing a few of what I am calling "Song Stories" -- stories that led to or informed a song of mine. The inspiration came from an invitation to appear on True Tales Radio - WSCA Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Here's my song story for August 26, 2014. The theme was "school". 

“Looking Up To My Tiny Teacher” by Craig Werth 

One measurement of my schooling would be the collective weight of teacher influence. Good, Bad and Ugly teachers chained together over my lifetime. The good ones, well... let’s save them for last. The bad ones nearly always meant well. Let’s say a few were over their heads and scrambling for survial themselves. Even as a child I could sometimes sense their limitations and adjust my expectations.The ugly ones I will say a little more about. Thankfully, there were just two or three of those. They had a meanness to them, They were, no doubt, deeply wounded, and their approach to coping included inflicting damage upon tiny hearts and minds. Mr. Black was one. He taught 8^th grade chemistry. One of his lesson plans included delivering electric shocks to each student with a tesla coil. The tesla coil looked like an overly thick cordless screwdriver. It shot a painful blue stream to your hand or any part of you touching the metal frame of your chair when Mr. Black surprised you with it -- just for educational purposes. One terrified boy ahead of me in line wet his pants waiting for our first tesla lesson. I suppose one could say that Mr. Black was teaching about the dangers of electricity, but I saw his eyes -- and I knew his lessons came from a place of ugliness. Even in the sixties, how this practice survived in the relative open is a twisted mystery, but it was something he was known for. I mention him here, because he is most deserving of the exposure.Some other ugly ones told students venemously THAT they were NOT and NEVER WOULD BE good at... fill-in-the-blank -- I had just a little of that, but I was somehow innoculated against its lasting effects. I’ve met hundreds of people who were not immune, and were closed down by them.But enough with the ugly. Let’s get to the GOOD ones. and I’ve had mostly good ones... including Mrs. Judith Rothberg (5^th Grade), who was sometimes frighteningly tough but clearly respectful, fair and skilled.  Mr. Pete Palen (high school English) who had hope and great expectations for us all and lifted us as high as he could every day, Mr. Tucker (high school chorus) who kindled my passion for music, Virginia “Jidge” Griewank – an assistant dean of students at the University of NH, a teacher/mentor -- our college mother and brilliant life coach. To name just a few of the impressive majority.   As any teacher worth her apple knows, the very best teachers are open to learning from their students. One of my favorite teachers of all time started giving me lessons in November of 1984 and he’s still guiding a big slice of my education today. He is also a student of mine, and half his DNA came from yours truly. Benjamin Allen Werth, through the often unsettling experiment, and the profound educational adventure that is parenthood, has been one of my greatest teachers. I will try to give a few examples of lessons from his comprehensive program of brilliant instruction. 

Example A)Be Fully Present. Express yourself kindly but unabashedly.Some of my guidance in his direction was tainted with my neurotic anxiety. Don’t do this or you might offend people, don’t do that because it draws too much attention, people won’t like it if you... At the age of 5, one day, in response to a parental lesson comprised of such cautions, he turned to me and said, “Poppy – sometimes you think too hard.” And so he was the first to teach me about one of my most prevalent and self-destructive tendencies. 

Example B) 
Spotlight the accomplishments of others, which may well lift the spirits of all within earshot One day I got little Ben from daycare and took him to NH Public television to pick up his mom Liz from her long day of work there. Upon arrival I visited the restroom with him as we both had some urgency after our own hectic days. We finished business and entered Liz’s workspace, totally filled with a bustling team of staff members working on a pledge drive.  To my shock, Ben imediately silenced the entire workplace with a loud and clear proclamation. With great pride and delight he shouted, “My Dad did a HUGE Poop!” The faces of grim concentration transformed with the delight at this good news and of this boy’s pride in his daddy’s grand achievement. Other than mine, spirits lifted, all around. 

Example C)Do What You Need To Do With As Much Courage As You Can Muster, Turning toward the great challenge and not away from it, as in many cases this will serve you better in the long run. I grew up rather sheltered from the sadder sides of life or so was the attempt. With kindly intention, we were held back from funerals and gravely ill relatives, to protect us from the sad and scary. As you well know, the cost of this strategy can be deep and longlasting... Ben had a different approach. When his best friend Tony was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of cancer at age 11, Ben was his nearly constant companion. He became the only friend Tony’s parents allowed in regularly over time The day came when we learned that treatments weren’t working Tony was not going to live much longer. When -- On a car ride -- I told Ben this news, his reaction was immediate. “I Have to go see him.” And so he did. And he saw him all the way through to the end. His courage is humbling to me to this day. And his attitude about life and death is quite healthy relative to mine because of his experience. Yes – as parents we must have helped set him up for this approach, but trust me when I say that he deserves full credit for some of the very tough choices he made. And this is a lesson I will need to revisit throughout my life. 

Example D) Sieze and celebrate happiness wherever you can find it, or make it for yourself Ben learned to ride a two-wheeled bicycle in a parking lot in Durham when he was six years old. It was a magical thing to see him struggle and then “get it” circling round and round with a grin nearly as wide as his handlebars. In the midst of his magic first ride, he said four words that I will always remember the sound of – “It’s a Free Life”. The echo of this today reminds me that we have choice – choice to be free, to express and create– we’re free to choose to be happy in tiny spaces and moments in the midst of these often heavy lives of ours. I truly would love to go on, but this is one of my song-stories. By definition it must end with the narrative’s companion song. My tiny teacher, Ben, inspired this one nearly thirty ago:

(I sang the following song on the radio show)

"Benjamin Allen" by Craig Werth, 1986, New Durham, NH

Benjamin Allen is busy today, he's got a newspaper in his hand,
tearing a front-page disturbance awaynow he's eating the classified ads,
so easy to pass too quickly, Ben teaches me to take it slow --
out of the mouths of babes, you know.

Benjamin Allen is smiling away,he's got a secret in his tiny hand,
a Cheerio he displaced yesterday, a diamond to this tiny man,
just when I'd ceased to believe in magic,he's putting on quite a show,
out of the mouths of babes, you know.

Benjamin Allen is sleeping away, through the middle of a lonely night,
softly I kiss him, "don't wake him" I say, but I'm hoping that I just might,
any spaces in me left empty, he's filling up as he grows,
out of the mouths of babes, you know.

Benjamin Allen is talking away,with words I'd never heard before,
though I'm not sure I caught everything that he said,
I could not agree with him more, he says the answers that you've been seeking,
are ones you already know,
out of the mouths of babes.

      

Thankful for Brilliance

Freshly home from a retreat of 8 heart-picked songwriters -- this the brilliant concept of Mr. Connor Garvey. Connor applied for and earned a grant from Club Passim and provided us with lodging and food for a multi-day experience as intensive and productive as any I've been a part of.  In the company of Connor, Sorcha Cribben-Merrill, Shannon Hawley, Jenna Lindbo, Heather Styka, Shannon Wurst and Brad Yoder there grew a fellowship that warmed and inspired and produced delightful new work -- solo and in collaboration.  Great thanks to Connor for this grand opportunity and to my fellow "cousins" for what just might be a lifetime of camaraderie from such a short and sweet experience.

Oh My It Flies

So I saw that my last post was in April.  Sheesh.  Since then my father died, I've been to the Netherlands, Scotland and England, and Star Island, I taught songwriting to amazing high school students, I've churned and fretted and written a number of songs and instrumental bits... So that's the update.  I may not be much of a blogger it seems.  Let's see how long it takes for me to write another entry shall we?  Shall I?  Sorry if I got your hopes up for volume, Dear Reader.  Sorry I feel sorry as much as I do -- force of habit.  Heading for Monhegan Island with Lizzie to perform with my great pal, Guy Capecelatro III.  His wife, dear Pam, will join us.  Then off to Nova Scotia with Liz.
Thought for today:  Listen to these people -- Susan Crowe, Cynthia Chatis, Mara Flynn, Licia Sky, Guy Capecelatro III... more to come.  Much love to you.

The World at 3:38 AM

I am awake and producing at 3:48 AM.  I can be awake at this hour on many nights/days but this time it's a particularly good thing.  I feel somewhat vibrant this morning.  I started reorganizing (aka "cleaning out giant piles of crap from") my studio at around 9:00 PM and I'm still rolling.  Thoughts for this morning:

1) I have a wonderful life.  There's plenty of challenge, believe you me, but when I take stock in all I have in the way of friendship and partnership and blessings of many other sorts, I feel lucky in huge ways.

2) I am as potent as I ever was.  I feel potent as a creator of art (music) and as a performer.  I can play things that I couldn't play at the age of 20, or 30 or 40... and I can write with a hard-won wisdom and humility that I didn't have before now.  I will fall off this high horse one day soon, for sure, but it's a good feeling in these wee hours of a day in April 2013.

It's 4:09 now.  I ought to consider slipping into bed with Lizzie and snagging an hour or two of rest.  Thanks for hanging in with me, Dear Reader.  You're the best.