Tag Archives: songwriting

Where Deep Gladness Meets a World’s Deep Hunger

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So I’m thinking about Dorothy again, and her journey that began in a flying house. Prior to a sudden cyclone carrying her away, she was just a little girl living on a dry prairie, drained of all color. Continue reading

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WHAT MY INNER WRITER DREAMS ABOUT

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Early morning view from my corner

Next to the window, morning light flows over me as I sit in my green velvet wingback chair. Sipping cautiously on steaming cappuccino that’s warming my hands, I listen to early birdsong while breathing in the view of my backyard.

I’m in a little corner of my office.

But really, this particular corner is not my office. Oh, the rest of everything in the room is –the custom cherry file cabinet, the desk and the tall storage unit with bi-fold doors. But not this little corner.

No, here in this corner I’m not in my office. I’m in my haven, the place where I let my imagination have its way with me. Continue reading

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WHY DADS DANCE WITH THEIR DAUGHTERS

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The Dance2 Post Image

THE TEARS

My mom rarely cried. At least not in front of me. But when her tears did happen, a jolt of fear would race through my heart. Because if Mom cried, that meant something really, really bad must have happened.

But not this time.

This time was different. A little more than five years ago, my mom was feeling weak, but we didn’t know how sick she was. If we did, she wouldn’t have been driving. And I wouldn’t have been distracting her by singing my latest song.

I’m glad I didn’t know. Continue reading

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REMEMBERING

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Today is the day we honor our military men and women for paying a tremendous price. I’ve chosen to share this lyric as one small way to honor those lives lost. This is for them and their families, who no longer have their sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, husbands and wives. Continue reading

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HOW I CLIMB MOUNTAINS

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I choose big mountains to climb. It’s almost as if I can’t help it; it’s a part of me being me. But I don’t always know in advance how huge the mountain is. Often I’m just scrambling up a path towards something I’m sure is easy and small. Continue reading

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POKING THE BEAR

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She's Lost Her Childlike Heart

She’s Lost Her Childlike Heart

I intentionally poked the bear. I wanted to stir it up, get it roaring fiercely at me, threatening to destroy me. My only comfort this time? That I did it on purpose. Continue reading

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BECKONING

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I knew I was beautiful
In my Cuernavaca dress…

Beckoning

my messy creative process…

I’m in the middle of the beginning, writing a song.  The voices have started. Imagined criticisms, known by the serious-minded as critique. Rules I’ve forgotten to follow. Rules I’ve chosen to break, then doubted.

These voices dwell in the all-knowing smart side of my brain. Continue reading

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