DAY 1

Daily Composition

This commences a one-year cycle of daily compositions. I will write an evocative, literal soundscape composition each morning and post to the site. What I hope to gain, is immeasurable. What I seek to learn, is incomprehensible. What I seek to share, is everything.

Hurt and Happiness

I have had numerous exchanges recently concerning the nature and potential of happiness, or rather a happy life. It seems that so many do not consider that happiness may exist in the same moment as hurt, pain, regret, or many other numerous emotions that test and refine (define?) the human condition.

In the light of this past weekend's events, it feels even more possible to me that our lives are a delicious mixing of the two -- happiness and hurt. There are good hurts after all, and happy lies and many other such sayings -- perhaps there is much wisdom in even the simplest idiomatic expression and paradigm.

When life can end so quickly, it seems each wasted moment is priceless. If only our awareness was as keen as our sense of loss in hindsight. So with that being said, I am voicing the following items on my bucket list for the universe's eyes and ears -- truly now what we voice is both heard AND seen given the multi-faceted nature of the interweb.

Ahem...

1. Richard Armitage, I would like to go riding with you in Hyde Park and then have supper and wine...in New Zealand.

2. I want to walk the Great Wall of China with TN Hahn and discuss parallels in Christianity in the West and Eastern Buddhism.

3. Mierle Ukeles, I want to shake YOUR hand.

4. I wish to visit Nigeria and study African Drumming there first hand.

5. Achieve Master Gardener status somewhere.

6. One day, I want to learn to gallop on a horse -- and enjoy it!

7. Travel with my concerts to small intimate spaces and spread cultural commerce.

8. Get a tan and fit into my Brasilian Bikini.

9. Enroll in an Aerial class and work up to the Egyptian Mummy and perfect my splits.

10. See Alaska, India, and Easter Europe -- and sing in creative spaces in each.

and 11. Write American Soundscapes for the next 10 years!

Cheers!
MB Disco

Rallying in Raleigh

Dear Adoring, Fawning Public -- Lend me your ears!

BLERG! Yes, i have been introduced to 30 Rock and the world of BLERG!

And here I sit, in coffee shop heaven, almost literally, at Cafe Helios on Glenwood Ave in Raleigh, NC. Local produce, shade grown coffee, personable chefs, modern interpretations of PoP Art on the walls, economy flush toilets....the works! Cara Hagan, my illustrious collaborator extraordinaire, and I are conducting our Artist Residency at NCState working with the Panaramic Dance Project. We are workshopping our performance piece, Common Threads, on the ladies and gentleman this week. It is a larger group than the original structure of the work calls for so we are making adaptations and stretching the piece and ourselves. The dancers would tell you we are stretching them as well...

Two weeks prior we sent a homework assignment out for every dancer to bring a letter written to a significant female figure in his or her life. At our first meeting/rehearsal, we shared our letters and then extracted word phrases to pair with original seed movements generated by the dancers themselves. There was sharing and teaching and learning of the collective lyric that we formed by piecing together the different thoughts and phrases. We are taking the result and creating introductory and transitional compositional material for common threads involving whispered voices, musically realized and embodied monologues, and woven moving lines of bodies throughout Common Threads. I call the results "Whispered Words and Letters" and I'm quite excited with the sonic experience. The sound is haunting, lively, and ghostly -- invoking the past with the energy of the present. The work continues to refine itself through the collaborative process and Cara and I grow in our relationship as well. Nothing says "close" like finding out you are sharing a bed with your collaborator in the Resident Artist Apartment!

Meanwhile, I continue to dust off my dancing shoes and get moving. Last night we hosted our Performative Painting workshop, co-created with Goddard College alumna Ellen Greenblum. The class of 20 or so moved and groved, painted and postured, ripped and shredded, drummed and hummed. It was fantastic! We finallyl drew it to a close after an hour and a half of "Play Time" although I think the group could have gone all night! No one wanted to leave. What a measure of success.

All in all, my collaborations have all resulted in just that: a happy, satisfied audience who's ready for more! Nothing is more satisfying than knowing you hosted that kind of party. Man, I really love people. And making Art.

Hope you are all equally satisfied or are taking steps to become so,
Still shakin it!
MB Disco

Common Threads, Uncommon Friends

If you are a musician and you have not checked out The Spot Studio in Winston-Salem, NC then you are missing something very cool and inspiring. Okay, I should also mention that if you are a musician AND you love trees and everything natural then....ditto all of the above. This week saw another piece of the collaborative puzzle, currently known as Common Threads, fall into place. Cara Hagan, my collaborator extraordinaire gifted me with some Spot Studio Time this week -- the results of which I find most pleasing. Imagine a sound (vocal) booth surrounded by beautiful woodwork, killer mics at multiple angles, the best coffee and the smell of cypress, pine and other woods gently wafting around you. I felt absolutely transported and that's what gets to me in most other studio settings -- the sterility. All of these beautiful "toys" and processors and cables and incredible programs of sound recording and manipulation, tons of talent, and then foam. Foam and panels as far as the eye can see and such a feeling of containment and being boxed in, so that you almost have to close your eyes or turn your imagination on overdrive. Not so at Spot. I felt like I had transported to some woodland retreat in the Pacific Northwest. Granted, I have been studying somatic body work as a means to unlocking greater creative expression and so to go to a place where smell is such an inspiring factor (for me at least, fresh wood is a happy trigger) -- wow.

Chris, our fabulous engineer, was great. Knowledgeable, creative, everything. And that's just it -- I felt like so much attention to creative detail had been crafted into that studio that it inspired notes in me. I'm telling you, it's well worth the trip to make music at this place. So check it out.

And stay posted for more on Common Threads, an artistic exploration and tribute to women's work, relationships, and experiences. We have a few installments now of this dance/music work -- so far all are a capella women's voices and we're thinking of keeping it that way. Cara has a piece called "Eve at the River," and another, "Our Quilt." I've gotten work done on "Georgia,"a tribute to my grandmother's life and legacy, with "Lilith" and "Letter Song" and "Sweet Femininity" mapped out and/or in process...but NOW that I know what a beautiful studio process awaits me, I am totally motivated to finish these pieces up and get a recording done by early November so that we can begin work on the CD.

Cara and I are workshopping a few threads or pieces of CT (Common Threads) at NC State this fall. We're looking forward to tightening our stitches, so to speak, but already the work is garnering positive feedback and excitement. There is talk of a US mini-tour of the work. Hopefully my hometown will be interested in hosting us for Piccolo Spoleto or some other artistic festival.

Meanwhile, it's back to the home studio...and the garden...and my trees!

Make the world your dance party!
MB Disco

New Summer, New Rhythms

Ah, Summer!
There is nothing like the dawn of a new decade and the rush of humidity to spur one to healthier habits....

For me, that means upping the thermostat (cutting it up, as I usually say but provide the former phrasing for the rest of the population), upping my veggie intake (and considering going veggie by the ol' birthday), and upping the physical regimen. I'm working up to daily yoga and in preparation for horseback riding in the fall and a probable birthday month trip to New York and aerial classes -- the old Britney Spears routine:

600 situps
50 pushups
15 pull ups
200 leg lifts (Each side)
150 brasilian butt blasters, each leg.
AND swimming and running alternate days 4 days a week.

I hope to wear the new brasilian bikini bottoms proudly in the decade to come...why not?!

In the past, increased physical discipline has strengthened both the outer (physical) and inner (emotional/spiritual) core. This has been one challenging year with the loss of one dear friend after another. Now with more changes in the near future, I thought some inner and outer bulking up was in order. I'll keep you posted as to the physicality of my new practice. Not coincidentally, I have been leaning towards the prepared piano repertoire...hmmm, interesting.

Cheers Ballers everywhere!
Go Germany!

MB Disco

Intended Poems

Here is my horoscope for this week according to Free Will Astrology -- which I love, like an addiction. Can you love an addiction? I think so...

LIBRA:
When a girl is born, her ovaries already contain all the eggs she will ever have. What this means, of course, is that a part of you was in your grandmother's womb as well as in your mother's. Now would be an excellent time to celebrate that primal fact. Your connection with your mother's mother is especially important these days. I suggest you meditate on what gifts and liabilities you received from her (genetic and otherwise), and how you might be able to make better use of the gifts even as you take steps to outwit the liabilities.

I have been reading the poetry of Sharon Olds and Mary Harjo. I have also been spending time contemplating the memory of my maternal grandmother. I do not contemplate my paternal grandmother as often and I rationalize this based on a lack of closeness due to a propensity for precociousness as a small child. Nevertheless, this horoscope hit home hard enough to trigger a poem. My creation lies below.

As a brief explanation, I have spent my entire life answering this question incorrectly:
"Are there other artists or musicians in your family?"
"No. I'm just a hiccup (or some other numbskull response)".

Let me try a less bonehead answer...
"Are there other artists or musicans in your family?"
"Why yes! I come from a line of prolific artists. My grandmother Ball is a master gardener, decorator and cook. My grandma Johnston is an amazing seamstress. She masterminds her own recipes and designs. She can make anything -- especially a mean pot of coffee. As a nurse, she fixes people. You won't find better stitches or bedside manner in at least three counties!"

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers in my life.

LINEAGE

I come from a line of artists.
My father’s mother— My mother’s mother:
SHE is an artist.
Her hands form garden beds,
pinch sucker buds from leafy green tips,
nurture supple stems
and break up angry root balls.
Her knees ache from the weight of her body,
Her strong back buckles under the sun’s fierce heat
And yet she toils on
And on creating beauty out of dirt and shit.
Where there was an empty canvas of earth,
She leaves a spread of foliage and flower,
A blanket of nature’s bounty spread out before her –
an organic quilt of her life’s work.

My other mother sews.
Her hands, once nimble,
Now old and arthritic, grip the needles,
one knit two, pearl one , drop 2
the patterns run through her mind
now riddled with the holes of memories
forgotten.
Handstitched quilts,
Crocheted afghans,
Christmas booties,
Bathing suits and cover-ups,
Suits and socks
She made them all
Out of love and labor.
She labors now to breath
And walk
And eat
And shit.
My mother nurses the nurse
Who cannot remember my name
Or who I am
Although I swear her eyes light up when I smile
A flicker of ghostly recognition
Skimming across icy blue eyes.
A moment of clarity pulled
from the chaos and confusion.

I come from HER womb
HER eggs,
My heritage.
We hold each other
In tummies stretched from childbirth,
Sluggish from aging digestion
Soft from years of loving.
And pregnant with the possibilities
Of future generations
Of women
Of artists.
Artful living running in my blood
Coursing through me in monthly cycles.
Now I plant, I gather, I sew in story
Line and line again
I recreate the cycle of my Mothers.
I live the work of HER hands:
Wrapping myself in love-made quilts
Digging my hands into dirt, burying myself elbow deep
In my soiled canvas—
Shit becomes Splendor,
Work begets Joy
And Art abounds in All things
Created by HER Hands.
We are Creator.
We are Artists.
We are Women.