"Your Voice is the Loudest"
Traveling east to west and not west to east, Mercury shakes things up a bit here on Earth. And this batch of backwards concludes today! Imagine if the sun rose in the west and set in the east. OMG now that would be retrograde chaos!
There is a poetic way to speak about all things. Not everyone will get it. Not everyone has the brain width to welcome in change or something different. Fear not galant word builder, carry on. You will find those that get you.
Since September 20th I have been working, creating, socializing, helping family and exploring these three cities. It has been a packed 25 days and will write much more when I get home. London was a dream come true and the response to THE PASS has been so very positive, it is very rewarding. Here are links to reviews and to what people are saying.
My PR work is also soaring…we had a great book launch party in Atlanta, Georgia for Dr. Kela Henry, NIA & THE NUMBERS GAME, a project we have been working on for years and one very close to my heart. Helping teenage girls finding their way in these wild times! Click Here.
And my trip to Florida, in the middle of it all, was all about my 91 year old dad. He fell while I was in London…my heart is full.
A note I left my dad by his bed, as he lies in rehab struggling with more than his fractured tibia: “Dad I love you, you taught me to take chances.”
Daughter to Father…
more to follow…
Lately I have been thinking a lot about home, and the role it plays in giving us a spiritual center. The apartment where I live in the West Village of NYC has been my dwelling for over thirty years; I have come to think of it almost as an extension of myself–like my arm or the shell a turtle carries on its back. As I think of performing my show THE PASS in different venues around the country, and maybe even in London, I know I must leave my Village sanctuary, if only for brief periods of time. Right now I can see a beautiful blue jay from my window, speaking loud and clear, perched on a bare tree.
My little apartment–it is one big room like a French artist’s studio–is so cozy and arranged to my liking: an antique Oriental rug, a comfy bed, closets packed with my favorite possessions in cupboards that are painted beautiful colors; my musical equipment including my keyboard; computers that I use for my PR work. Outside my window wind chimes blow a song with the wind and I often see the communal cats prowling around. They keep the mice away. It’s all idyllic, complete.
Yet I contemplate deserting my home and going forth into the world, performing for strangers and staying in hotels, or inns or apartments. The vagabond, the gypsy in me is on and ready. The sailor is looking to find ways to tear up the anchor in celebration of my musical journey through the years.
I might spend some time in Tucson–awesome desert air, a pool, a living room with a fireplace! Or I can hang out in L.A., to experience the scene in West Hollywood. Oh what a scene!
No doubt, after I travel I will long to come back to my little nest in NYC. Or will I outgrow my little pad, as I have before and leave it only for a time. It is where I have written so many of my songs. I know that I will always love my home in the Village, my place in which I have invested my heart. But there may right now be empty places, just waiting for my heart to fill them too.
DENISE MARSA 