Point of Light
Vern Luna is the one who is at the heart of our sound. He did the recording and the mixing; these are his musical requests and structures that we are exploring together. So when I tell you about our band, perhaps first I should start with Vern. Most of all he is an adventurer - one whose joy is to explore edges and extremes. With us he has been exploring dissonance and the return to sweetness, blending all into that theme which has been so constant in his life: exploring the frontiers of spirit, through meditation and dream. Over the many years in which I've known him, a valued focus with him has been the middle ground - that balance where extremes come together. His personal background is mostly Kumeyaay, (a Native American group local to San Diego County) Tim's is Irish and German, Sparrow's: a little Cherokee and a lot of other things not revealed to me, Pandora's: French and Scottish, and mine has been in this country far too long for me to know what I really am - an earthling, I suppose. We first came together in Vern's living room as friends or friends of friends, and the chemistry in our music became my favorite addiction. Tim and Sparrow have drifted away now, to pick up the many varied and busy pieces of their lives, but not before we made this CD, and staged a benefit concert that raised enough cash for a friend with cancer to see him over the roughest bits. How I have loved every minute of it! I played around for myself one day with exploring where extremes come together. I was visiting friends in Sedona and out in a little place that had been set aside for meditation, when someone else came in who had brought a flute. When he started to play it I wanted to join in, but I went to get my penny whistle and discovered it was in a different key: not one that was any too compatible. And then I had an idea. I mentioned it to the other guy, and he liked it: we played as though our two different keys were two separate races, listening while we played and seeking out the more harmonious parts of our separate scales. It sounded pretty bad in the beginning, but before long it was starting to sound pretty good - amazingly good, all things considered. We had a wonderful time. My husband, outside, listening to us, cautioned us not to come out just yet. A coyote had come from the brushy hills and settled herself down right outside the window. He said she had been cocking her head from one side to the other, listening very intently. I just managed to get a picture of her back end while she was running away. Her image was too small to suit, but I'll never forget her. This music is like that - a place where unexpected things come together, and not to be forgotten.