Some days I am more aware than others that every moment is meant to be devoured. Not only devoured but squeezed, adored and cherished for all it's worth.
Welcoming the outside in, the studio door stood wide open. The beautiful static sounds of a record player needle filled the air as it glided across the vinyl of Elton John's Sweet Painted Lady. An ocean breeze mixed with the stillness of a Long Beach, California night. The sky was hazy with a city glow, but I could only see the stars.
Enter piano man John Caldwell.
I have always believed there are no strangers among musicians. Writers, players, singers and shakers, we are most normally instant friends upon meeting. As John sat down at the piano, I was filled with excitement. Having never heard my song before, I anticipated what he might add to the mix. Watching his hands begin to move across the ivories with a cool steadfast and easy flow, I suddenly felt my heart migrate to the center of my throat. I could not breathe, I could not think. There was nothing left to do but feel. They don't call him Fingaz for nothin.
Tears strolling down my face as I listened to my story come to life. His energy, his emotion, his immense talent pouring out onto a baby grand and his story becoming a part of the very fabric of my own. An unspoken phenomenon of vibrating sound building bridges with melody, harmonies hinging us together with cosmic kismet.
Musical collaboration is such a stale term for the energy in which it stands for. In it's most sincere form, music is not only about the combining of efforts, it is about the combining of souls.
Music heals.
May you feel today.
May you leave the door open.
Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams
xo
Birdee Bow
"The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun." CHRISTOPHER McCANDLESS
She had that Sophia Loren sexy confidence thing, the shazam most normally reserved for yesteryear 50's style glamazons and curvy movie stars. Her electric energy filled the airport shuttle like a sultry smoke cloud. It was impossible to look away from her, her over sized Jackie O sunglasses and overstuffed Gucci bag. She demanded center stage like a 1960's technicolor Jack Rose film, only brighter and more mysterious.
"May I sit?", she asked in what I thought to be a Russian accent.
"Yes, certainly" I replied while scooting to the left of the bench seat.
Making our way across the terminals of LAX felt more like a bumper car fun park ride than a trip to the rental car establishment. Sudden jolts and break induced neck jerks stuck on repeat as we abruptly stopped at each terminal. Meeting eyes with heads bouncing, we couldn't help but laugh at the sight of one another. Laughter which inevitably opened up to fabulous conversation.
(Ok, so I couldn't help it!)
"Have you ever heard that you look a lot like Sophia Loren?"
"Ahh yes I have heard this before, but very sweet of you to say"
Her accent was Croatian. A fact I learned when she lamented about fleeing the beloved country of her birth in 1994 to Italy during a war of independence. In the years following the war she had hoped to return to Croatia with her two small children. It was not to be as economic collapse had left the area in peril. She chose instead to take part in a U.S. program enabling she and her sons to relocate to California as refugees of war. Quite a daunting task as she spoke not one word of English nor knew one soul in this country. The only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted a good life for her children in a place with unlimited opportunity.
At different parts of her story, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Tears partly from the beauty and strength of her resolve and partly from my own pride. Pride in being a citizen of such a great country and pride in the freedom to take advantage of the amazing opportunities it holds. A luxury I often forget along the hustle of my journey.
I don't want to forget anymore.
Continuing with her story somewhere around terminal 6, she mentioned that she now was in her fifties and that she had not only taught herself English within the first three months of being here, but also worked four and five jobs to support their family. Jobs she tirelessly carried until her English was proficient enough to start a career. A career where she is now at a regional supervisory level and working at a job she loves. Both boys had recently graduated from college, one in a science field and one in the arts. She spoke of their accomplishments as a unit, as an entire family who had joined forces and beat the odds against extremely difficult circumstances.
The love in her conviction was immeasurable.
The joy in her voice, contagious.
"This life is a strange and glorious ride!", she said as the shuttle finally pulled into our destination.
"Oh, and one more thing."
She motioned to me as we stepped down onto the sidewalk,
"I found love two years ago and got married! After devoting my entire life to my children and believing that love would have to wait? Turns out it did. I found love in the sweetest man I have ever known. At 54! Can you believe it?
Yes, Sophia... I do believe.
Wishing you inspirational strangers and an open heart.
Hepburn Hugs & Ric Ocasek Dreams
xo
Birdee Bow
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