This I Heard: Songs & Melodies PT 1
I've spent most of my adult life involved in narratives -- short stories, plays and films. Each moment I witness - especially between strangers - immediately prompts a story, a frame. For most of my childhood, I've been influenced by sound -- from the cadence of my grandmother's voice through requisite piano training to the music being played by my sisters. One of my sisters would play a section of Mozart over and over again -- to marry the weaker to the stronger parts -- and however it heard to me at the time, the repeated phrase became a song to me. When I'm in quiet environments (which aren't easy to find these days), small fragments and threads emerge; I see something and a phrase sneaks out of my mouth. Usually when I'm doing something else. And like so many things that come from us -- it's hard to pin down the source. It's like we're djs of everything we've ever heard. Or longed to not hear. Or finally heard when things got quiet. This EP is a collection of some fragments turned into songs. By turning into songs, I mean were given a beginning and an end -- but I wonder -- how long are the songs (really) that live inside us? Why do we stop them where we do? And each time we sing (one), is it ever the same song? I made a mix of these songs and listened to it on walks mostly. I didn't make intricate arrangements of them because I wanted them to retain their simplicity. One of them, Two Promises, was originally written for a group of lay children at a buddhist monastery. They were taking their first two vows - to protect the lives of (and to live peacefully with) people, animals, plants and minerals. Watching them sing the song blew me away; for them, it wasn't 'singing' -- it was expression in a very pure way. They were feeling and releasing sound at the same time. It made me want to make more songs like that -- simple enough for most people to learn after one or two listens.