Warm Hearts on a Cold Night!

What is your first reaction when you hear the word "snow!" on the radio?

Mine is usually mild interest, if I even process the weather report.

Of course, I am still fairly weather ambivalent. The weather is not something I can typically change, and usually I don't let the weather change my plans. Also, half the time the weather is predicted incorrectly (particularly when it comes to snow and how much of it). My outlook was bolstered from working at the "rain (sleet) or shine," Renaissance Faire, at which I learned that you can survive in all sorts of weather!

However, in the midstate, once the weatherman says the "s-word," it seems all of Central PA utters a collective "whoah-no!" and rushes to the foodstore to stock up on supplies (because no American could survive two days snowed in without bread and milk) then huddles in expectation inside their houses.

Luckily, our Christmas show at Warm Hearts was scheduled before the fifteen inches of snow hit (laugh if you want, I was laughing to, until my dad was out shoveling all day).

Even though the weathermen were warning that the snow would come "late tonight," we had quite a lot of fans brave the yet unsnowy roads and join us at Warm Hearts for quite a full show!

If you came to this show, you might have noticed a rare habitual change in the band that night: we were EARLY. How this came to be, I don't know. If you know our style it is more "sail in flustered (myself) and chill (Peter) at the very last minute." However, we actually made it with ninety minutes in which to tune, set up, and grab a bite to eat (God bless Pete Hamel, owner of Warm Hearts, for feeding all of Seasons for free!) And guess what? We used every bit of the time alloted to get ready. This made me wonder how we ever get our act together in fifteen minutes, which is usually how much time we have, but I suppose the amount of time directly affects how hard and fast one works (think of the all-nighter...)

There were actually three other "firsts" for Seasons at this show, making it somewhat historic:

1. This was the first time Mary Callaghan sang "Eventide Lullaby" live. At first when Mary told me this I was skeptical. Come on, it has been three years, you think that she would have sang it live with us somewhere! However, on further consideration, we realized that while a variety of people have covered "Eventide" (I believe the count is up to around six people) Mary's schedule had in fact never gelled with ours around the Christmas Seasons until now.

2. This was also the first time that we performed "Listen to the Angels" with a nearly full cast, having Seth Bird, Mary, and Katie Bird singing. The only one missing from the recording was my cousin Rebekah Callaghan, our violinist. Once again, I wonder what in the world we were all doing for three years, but if Mary hasn't been able to make a Christmas show in that long...I guess that matches up.

3. To pull it all together, the Warm Hearts show was the first show where Seasons sheet music was offered for sale. I had written out the melody and chords for "Eventide Lullaby," "Stable Song" and "Listen to the Angels," quite diligently on my "finale" program (and discovered the challenges of transcribing music from scratch, especially music with dotted eight notes). We actually had one taker from an auto harp player, which I found rather exciting. So if you are looking to purchase some sheet music, I am looking to supply some, hint hint...

Other highlights of the show were a new arrangement of the Hobbit Dance with "Deck the Halls" which I cheesily called "Deck the Halls with Bounds of Hobbits," until Peter pointed out that the halls are decked with "boughs" of Holly, not "Bounds," so my hearing error has led to what might be a permanent and silly song title.

I also got to sing a cover of Sarah Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson's "Wintersong," which Katie Bird. However, I am not sure if got on tape, so it might remain an ephemeral performance never to be repeated (okay, so we probably will sing it again because I love it so much)!

One final highlight, Pete Hammel, the owner of Warmhearts, got a text from his daughter, who was at the Scythian show in Lancaster, saying that "the boys" told us to have a great night and to rock on!

Our Adventure at Westminster!

Presbyterian, that is.

Not Abbey.

I with held this information for the specific purpose of tantalizing you to read on, unless you are a devoted Seasons fan who needs no baiting whatsoever (God bless you).

In any case, last Monday Seasons (with the mostly recovered from the flu Peter) headed out on a mini-tour to play a show at our relative's church in Pittsburgh, Westminster Presbyterian.

The Church itself had quite an air of New England about it, which is the closest thing that America has to England (besides the Renaissance Faire, of course).

This little taste of life on the road gave me some idea of what things would need to change if Seasons went on a more extended tour (meaning anything more than traveling to just one gig).

1. We would need to work out sleeping arrangements. Since all the typically floor-sleeping Lees wanted to be in the two hotel beds, and mom and dad had claimed the pullout couch (fair enough), the arragement night one was:

Peter and Luke + me sleeping across the bottom at their feet, (however, after getting kicked more than a shopper in Target on Black Friday, I moved to sleep at Clare and Grace's feet.) Teresa wisely opted to be on the floor for that evening.

Night two I tried sleeping next to Clare, only to find after returning from the bathroom that she had decided to sleep horizontally and hog all the blankets. This turn of events led me again to sleep at Peter and Luke's feet, pretending that the kicking was just a strong and random shiatsu massage.

2. The amount of stuff we bring anywhere.

Not only did we squeeze two large harps, two hammered dulcimers, bongos, a mandolin, three music stands, a violin, sheet music, and CDs, we also brought clothes for eight people. And it doesn't end there. Each person also brought what Luke and Clare call "stuff to do bags," which is a bag (sometimes more than one) of things to do in the car and hotel, such as games, books, CDs, CD players, computers, stuffed animals and playing cards. To get all of this into the hotel room took about 30 trips (causing us to monopolize the only two elevators in the building).

However, we had a great show. At first we were nervous that no one other than our grandparents were coming, but then my Aunt came down the hall whispering excitedly "they're all coming through the back way!" People streamed in until we had a full house!

We played the usual "Eventide Lullaby" tracks, as well as "Linus and Lucy," (which we dedicated to Grandma) "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree," and "Walking in the Air" from The Snowman.

Clare played a mean violin for "Stable Song," and our cousin Carlee led the audience in a sing-along for "Silent Night" and "Joy to the World." Of course starting "Silent Night" my mind was wandering and I started playing it "country style" until Peter hissed at me, "NOT Western, NOT Western!" Whups.

At the end of the program Peter was sure that the audience was giving us a standing ovation, and wanted to play a encore and crowd surf, though I voted against it as the people giving the "standing ovation" already had their coats on and were heading for the door, so Peter might end up floor surfing instead.

We celebrated afterwards at Eatin' Park (which made me feel like I was in college again) before unloading everything again in the hotel room, and repeating the exciting sleeping arrangements of the night before.

Thank you Pittsburgh, hope to see you again soon!

Hello, Hello, Guess Who Has Vertigo!

As some of you know, Seasons had the honor of playing the pre-show, intermission and post-show music for Openstage Theatre's production of "A Christmas Carol." Openstage used the Sunoco Performing Arts Center for the play, and asked us if we could set up in one of the side boxes in the balcony (which would be the box on the highest tier of seating in the above picture). Sadly, Teresa and I did not get to wear phantom of the Opera Masks as we played.

Ever since singing in the children's choir in our church and having to stand practically flush again the rail of the choir loft because I was so short, I have had an odd relationship with heights.

Due to my overactive imagination, the first thing I usually do upon reaching a great height is to wonder what it would be like to fall from it. After I have mulled over how it would feel to fall through the air, how many bones I would break and what gigs and family commitments I would be forced miss during recovery (and of course who would visit me in the hospital), I then imagine what it would be like for various objects to fall from the height, be it a choir hymnal, a bracelet, or the second grader singing next to me.

In this case, I was picturing accidentally brushing against the harp and the dulcimer and sending them gracefully sailing through the air (kind of like operation dumbo drop). Except none of our instruments has a built in parachute, and would end up squashing the unsuspecting play patrons (which of course led to more imagining).

Despise thinking about such things while I am high up, heights don't paralyze me with fear. No, it is more like the sensation of having an itch--unpleasant, yes, but bearable, also yes. If anything, fear of heights provides more of an adrenaline rush for me as opposed to a crushing blow.

When Grace started playing the dulcimer in the upper balcony though, and started looking whiter than Jacob Marley by the second song, I knew we were in for trouble.

"I, just feel really dizzy, and, uh, I have to sit down," Sweating and shaking, Grace retreated from the dulcimer to sit with her head between her knees on the stairs. It was like we had hit her with a dose of kyrptonite.

Like a good sister I said to Grace, "Come on, it's not that bad, pull yourself together!"

Grace refused though (probably because she was barely conscious) which left me in the position of playing hammered dulcimer while Teresa manned the harp. Since Peter and Grace play dulcimer rather well, I have in response become rather remiss in practicing the dulcimer myself, especially because I know that most shows I will end up playing harp anyhow.

While playing with Teresa, I started just playing the melody on songs, but then of course if it was going well I would get cocky and start improvising until I hit some combination of notes that sounded suspiciously like a mistake, which would send me scurrying back to simple melody.

After this shocking discovery of Grace's superhero weakness, Teresa and I realized we had no choice but to play in the balcony ourselves, with Grace playing with us in the lobby after the show. Due to all the lugging of instruments up and down the stairs of the Sunoco Performing Arts Center during Act II, I ended up seeing Act I of "A Christmas Carol" three times, and while Scrooge celebrated his redemption I could be found in the lobby playing a serious game of Scrabble with Clare, our most excellent CD seller.

Despite my somewhat "avant garde" dulcimer playing at times (you all know my inclination towards musical experimentation) Don Alsedek, the director of Openstage gamely introduced us before every show (following which people would look around with this surprised "oh, where are the musicians?" look, and I would wave frantically from our position in the rafters). People actually bought CDs, too, which means that my dulcimer playing must not have been to weird (though Grace's playing at the end of the show as people exited surely helped).

This experience has taught me that one never knows what phobias are lurking right beneath the surface of a person that are just waiting to leap out. Perhaps during some upcoming gig unforeseen events will transform my aversion to cottage cheese into a phobia, and I too will be unable to play...only time will tell.

The Power of "Pretty"

Scott Westerfield, I finally forgive you for stealing the name of my main character. You see, it was about a year ago this time that I began flipping through Uglies in Borders, after being intrigued by the cover and the title. However, I then realized that on almost every other page was the super cool name that I had come up with for a character in my play that I had been working on all semester in Oxford.

I had a minor artistic tantrum in the bookstore before storming out.

Luckily, this wound to my sensitive creative self has begun healing enough that last week when I saw the book at the library I decided to give it a shot. There is also something appealing about getting a book for free instead of paying for it, although with the way I rack up fines at the library it probably is the same as buying the book in the end.

I was not disappointed. Uglies is one of those 500-page dialogue-driven books that one can read in two or three days (think Twilight or Harry Potter). It keeps you turning the pages and is not hard to comprehend.

However, though it is a "breeze read," unlike many teen books these days, Uglies asks probing questions about identity and the nature of beauty that won't be easily swept from your mind after you have turned the last page.

The book revolves around Tally, an "ugly" who lives on the outskirts of society with other kids who are like her. Lucky for Tally, though, she is nearing her 16th birthday, the age when each individual receives the operation that will turn him or her into a "pretty": big eyes, perfectly aligned features...you get the idea. The inhabitants of Westerfield's future world are kept in line by the fear that they won't be turned pretty, and once you are pretty, there is nothing more to worry about.

"Come on," you might think "Where's the Orwellian 'Big Brother,' L'Engle's 'It,' Bradbury's book burnings, Huxley's 'World State.'" Where is this society's scare tactics and torture methods, its restrictions on human freedoms? Scott Westerfield's future civilization doesn't need scare tactics or torture methods to keep people in check, because it is able to manipulate the very cores of people: their self-image and self-worth.

"That's the worst thing they all do to you," says a character fighting against the "pretty" regime. "The worst damage is done before they even pick up the knife: You're all brainwashed into thinking you're Ugly."

Personally, I feel like I am bombarded by "pretty" every day through television, magazines, and films.

Thin is "pretty."

Long eyelashes are "pretty."

A flawless complexion is "pretty."

Likewise, I am therefore left with a laundry list of what is "not pretty," and usually I end up in this latter column.

So what can you do to escape being "un-pretty?"

You buy a gym pass. You buy organic "healthy foods" or opt for a whole diet program. You buy make up and new clothes. You go for a nose job or color contacts or get my hair colored, racing to stay ahead of your own gnawing insecurity. And of course, you need to stay in touch with what it pretty, so you buy the magazines, and the cycle continues.

Face it, having people thinking they aren't pretty enough is good for business, and it's a business that has been continuing for hundreds of years (think whalebone corsets and woman having ribs removed to fit into them).

Even starting to read Uglies I was somewhat startled to find a main character with self proclaimed "muddy, small eyes, and frizzy hair." This is not the stuff that a movie adaptation is made of.

Of course, I did have my qualms with this book. While Tally and the other main characters are convincing, the minor characters and bad guys in Uglies are bland and stereotypical. Also, Tally spends far too much time wandering around in the wilderness trying to decipher clues for my liking (if I wanted to go on a scavenger hunt I would be outside instead of reading, alright?)

But Uglies serves as a good reminder that being "pretty" as a society defines "pretty" isn't everything, and that the pursuit of "pretty" can be downright dangerous. And, it posits that maybe, just maybe, people are pretty the way they are.

A Harp-Felt Christmas or "You Never know When You'll Meet a Metropolitan Opera Star""

Well, the harp orchestra has put another Christmas spectacular at the Whitaker Center under its belt, and this might have been the best one yet!

As usual, the harp orchestra concert featured more than 45 harps and a variety of performers: a brass quintet, a Renaissance music group, Harp Rock Cafe, the Jacobeen trio (come on guys, you have to come up with a name!) and Seasons. There were also some stunning vocal performances (more on this later...)

The day started for Teresa, Grace and I by waking up at around seven to start packing stuff for the concert, then an 8:00 a.m. mass, breakfast and more packing, and a 10:00 (ish) arrival time at the Whitaker Center.

This year, Louis Lynch, the director, decided we should put on the show not once, but twice, so we practiced, and then had shows at 2:00 p.m. and 5:oo p.m. We were supposed to eat lunch before the 2:00p.m. show, but Teresa and Grace got lost after I put them in the direction of the food (I of course had no trouble finding it) so they performed the 2:00 p.m. on empty stomachs, but did get to eat between the two shows.

Seasons played on all the harp orchestra pieces, and were also part of an octet performing a debut of an arrangement of "Adoramus Te Christe," by Donna Missigan. We got to accompany the phenomenal Jane-Ellen Varner on "O Holy Night" to finish off the first half of the concert, which was such an honor!

We decided that for our solo number we would play "Walking in the Air," from the cartoon the Snowman. We had assumed that everyone had seen this cartoon, based on the book, but after people gave us these blank looks as we tried to explain it, we realized this was not the case. Anyhow, Teresa and I played the harp and Mary-Grace had her hammered dulcimer debut at the Whitaker Center (and with the harp orchestra), and she did a super job! I was a little nervous as she mounted her platform to play (Grace is so small we had to get a platform constructed so she could reach the dulcimer!) because she gave me her "deer in the headlights eyes," but luckily all the hours of practice kicked in (including last night's run through which we had while stranded at the Camphill Municipal building last night, when Grace decided that she would rather sing the song than play it on dulcimer...)

Two obstacles with this song were keeping the instruments in tune and keeping the strings, period. Since our solo song occurred in the middle of the second set, I had to tune the instruments before each show and through intermission (and, with three harps and the dulcimer, we are talking about almost two hundred strings). Then, during the second show, smack in the middle of the Jacobeen trio's evocative and mysterious arrangement of "We Three Kings" Mary-Teresa popped a string. And we were sitting right in the front row. Luckily, as string breakages go, this was a relatively quiet snap, often a harp popping a string can sound akin to a gun going off.

Nevertheless, while the audience didn't notice, many of the harpists did, since this is one of your worst nightmares as a harpist. Of course I had expanded this worst nightmare scenario to the string snapping AND whacking me in the face leaving a permanent scar...this is what happens when you are a harpist and a drama major. Maria Goodpastor offered us the use of her harp, but Teresa solved the problem by just playing Grace's harp during the song, so everything worked out in the end.

Familiar with this song or not, people seemed to like it. As one of the singers swept by in an elegant teal gown, she whispered that is was "just stunning," followed by another vocalist in a sparkling black dress who simply looked at us with these wide eyes and nodded in appreciation. Later I found out with my mom that these two women are sisters and both are nationally recognized artists; Dorothy Byrne is currently one of the Metropolitan Opera's principal artists, and was just nominated for a Grammy award for her work in Glimmerglass Opera's production of "The Mines of Sulphur." Her sister, Terry Croteau, is a musical theatre performer, a published writer, and a mural painter and illustrator! After hearing this, my mom gave them our CDs for free (good call, mom). Amazingly, these two live in Mechanicsburg and Middletown (so you might have an award-winning television producer living down the block from you and not even know it).

It was a great day, all and all, and not one to be missed.

However, if you did miss the show "there is a cure in the house." The Harrisburg Harp Orchestra will certainly have another Christmas Concert (and probably a summer concert) that I will keep you informed of, and Seasons still has loads of holiday engagements coming up which we would love to see you at (even if you live far away this doesn't change the fact that we would love to see you).

Coming up next, Seasons has a two-day turnaround before playing the opening of the Christmas Showcase at the Harrisburg Farm Show!

Cheers,

MK

Now Playing

Hey guys, here is a sampling of where we'll be this season, if anyone fancies a bit of harp and dulcimer (and also welcoming Peter back from Austria any show after December 10!) November 20th Eckel’s Drug Store & Ice Cream Parlor, 36 E. Main Street, Mechanicsburg, PA 8-10:00 pm November 29th Harp Felt Christmas, Harrisburg Harp Orchestra, Whitaker Center, Harrisburg, PA, two shows at 2:00 and 5:00 pm (for details go to www.harrisburgharporchestra.com)

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December 2009

December 3rd Pre-show music for A Christmas Carol, Open Stage, Harrisburg, PA (December 3-4 at 7:30 pm and December 6 at 2:00) December 4th Pre-show music for A Christmas Carol, Open Stage, Harrisburg, PA (December 3-4 at 7:30 pm and December 6 at 2:00) December 6th December 6th Pre-show music for A Christmas Carol, Open Stage, Harrisburg, PA (December 3-4 at 7:30 pm and December 6 at 2:00) Saint Luke's Episcopal Church, Mechanicsburg, PA. 4:00-5:00 December 12th December 13th December 15 Seton Shrine Concert and Open House, Emmitsburg, MD 3-4:00 pm Emmanuel Christmas Concert with Martin Doman, Trinity High School Westminster Presbyterian Church, Upper Saint Claire, PA, 7:30-8:30 p.m. December 18th Warm Hearts Café, Mechanicsburg, PA 8-10:00 pm (this is our very favorite show of them all, so do come!) December 19th Midtown Scholars Bookstore and Café, Harrisburg, PA 2-5:00 p.m. December 20th Sunday Worship, Linglestown Church of God, Linglestown, PA 10:30 am December 20th December 24 Christian Churches United Benefit Concert, Harrisburg, PA 3:30 pm Christmas Eve Mass, OLBS Parish

Lights, Camera, Seasons? You better believe it...

I have some absolutely amazing news (and it has to do with EWTN and the National Shrine of Divine Mercy)!

First, credit must be given where credit is due, and I have to heartily thank (besides Jesus and Our Lady) St. Faustina and St. Patrick. Besides being the best songwriting partners ever, I am sure that they have been interceding relentlessly on our behalf.

Both stories I am going to relate actually begin three years ago...

Fall 2006: Back in the United States Peter, Mary-Teresa, and my parents were working tirelessly to mix and produce our Christmas Album, "Eventide Lullaby."

Meanwhile, I was busily studying-abroad, traveling and enjoying my experience in Gaming, Austria and also attending my weekly holy hour in the adoration chapel. One evening in September I came into the chapel without bringing anything to read, so I selected St. Faustina's Journal at random off the table with different books and prayer cards in the back of the room before sitting down.

Not knowing where to start, I opened up the Journal near the middle, expecting to flip through and read excerpts buffet style. Instead I found myself staring at the beginning of notebook 5, quote 1322, a one-page poem that began

"The barque of my life sails along..."

A melody seemed to instantly form in my head as I read the poem, becoming clearer every time I read it over.

I managed to find a pen in my pocket, and copied the poem out in minuscule letters, cramming them onto a scrap of paper.

After adoration I rushed back to my room, pulled out my harp, and played "The Helmsman." The third verse, like the rest of the song, came effortlessly (though the chorus would not come until a week or so later).

"The Helmsman" was first performed on October 4th, 2006, at an open mike night in Gaming. Though it didn't sink in then, this was the eve of Saint Faustina's Feast Day.

Then came my ten-day break, on which I traveled to England and Ireland. Honestly, while running around Ireland I didn't think a great deal about St. Patrick (but I did think about catching busses on time), though we did visit the supposed site where St. Patrick baptized many of the Irish people.

When I returned from ten-day, however, I found myself inspired to write a song about Saint Patrick, which I wrote down one afternoon, and played next semester at an open mike in Steubenville, OH. Then I promptly forgot about it until....

Spring-Summer 2008

Peter, Mary-Teresa, and I prepped furiously for our second CD. I brought out my songs, and Peter once again brought his amazing arranging and songwriting skills to the table, which included informing me that what I was singing for the bridge part of "The Helmsman" ("sail on, sail on") was obviously the chorus, and that "The Song of Saint Patrick" ("Dalriada") could not be 12 minutes long or people would fall asleep.

We drew upon the musical talents of our cousins and friends (who kindly accepted any kind of payment we could scrape together, from Vocelli's to Neato Burrito) who all managed to stay level-headed during what proved to be a very stressful and taxing recording experience, which included a very tight timeline. I had to leave to school before "Dalriada" was finished and Ben-David Warner recorded his part in Steubenville, OH (and I have yet to ever hear him sing it live!)

During this period we also had our first contact with Mimi Romaniak the Divine Mercy Shrine, who helped up out with copyright issues regarding St. Faustina's Journal immensely.

Now, four days ago, my mom told me that there was an email for us from Jill Sanders, from Life on the Rock. Jill said that she had heard of the work Seasons was doing for the kingdom, and that she wanted us to appear on the show on March 18th. As many of you with an affinity for Irish culture know, this is the day after Saint Patrick's Day!

We will be road-tripping it down to Alabama to the EWTN headquarters to record some music clips in the afternoon, and then we will be sitting down for a (gulp) live interview afterward.

If this wasn't enough of a shocker, the very next day we received an email from the National Shrine of Divine Mercy. My dad had shot them an email about Life of the Rock, and Mimi Romaniak responded saying that she was so glad he had emailed, because she had very exciting news for us but that she had somehow lost our email address. She had been praying to Saint Faustina to let her find the email, and then an email from my dad just popped up. Mimi wrote that the National Shrine of Divine Mercy was creating an audio version of Saint Faustina's Journal, and that they wanted to include 8-10 songs from a variety of Catholic artists that had to do with the Journal.

And...they wanted to know if they could include the Helmsman!

Once again I found myself pretty much speechless for the whole day (though I was able to summon my voice to talk to the producer of the audio, who resides in Atlanta, Georgia).

So, that's where we are right now, and it is thanks to all your prayers and our awesome patron Saints. I will continue to update you as we prepare for our most eventful Saint Patrick's Day yet!

Hope to see you this holiday (check out our "now playing" list on www.seasonsmusic.com) to catch us at a show.

--MK

Listen to the Angels: The Story of A Song

It is now going on three years since Seasons came out with their first album, "Eventide Lullaby."  

Three years is a fairly significant amount of time, in which alot can happen (just think of all Jesus got done in three years of public ministry) and it seems to be about time that we share some of our stories from creating our first album.  

In addition to sharing these stories, I am also going to have certain songs available for live streaming in the "my band" application on facebook (don't worry, I shall provide a link).

This way, you shall be able to read the story of the song, and then listen to the song!  

Or you can listen to the song, and then read the story.

Or you can do neither (which I do not suggest).

The first song I would like to share about is "Listen to the Angels."  

 

This song was originally not going to be on Eventide Lullaby at all, for an important reason: it had not been written yet.  It was the Summer of 2006, and we had cemented our final song list for the CD (or so we thought) and were read to head off to Tybee Island on vacation before returning home to record.  

Two nights before leaving, however, as I noodled away at the harp, I hit on the descending chords with the riff that you hear at the beginning of the song. 

 "Huh," I thought, "That sounds kind of Christmasish." 

Thoughtfully, I pulled out a scrap of lined paper and scribbled down some lines.  

Then I tried singing them to the tune I'd come up with.  Not bad.

Going along with the emotions felt in the verse, I slowly pieced together a chorus.  

"Hey, that's a nice melody," My dad said, stopping in the midst of Tybee preparations.

"Thanks," I replied.

"Does it have a name?" My dad asked (I am pretty sure at this point my dad knew, with his infinite dad wisdom, that this song was somehow going to end up on the CD)

"Yes," I replied "Christmas in St. Louis." 

What???

Few people (other than my dad and Peter, who never let me forget it) know that "Listen to the Angels" was in danger of remaining "Christmas in St. Louie," a song about a boy in the great Depression whose dad has become a hobo.

I don't know why this seemed like a good and poignant idea at the time (it was the third song I ever worked on, okay?) but I hope this hammers home to all writers and musicians the importance of good writing partners and friends who will tell you the truth, because at some point in your life you will have an idea that is absolutely, breathtakingly terrible, but you will believe it is the best thing since sliced bread.

Luckily, my dad retreated, and then returned with a legal pad on which he had written down some of his own, and much better lyrics, including the line "listen to the angels."  What first caught my eye, however, was his opening lines "One boy, one girl, one road that leads to far away."  I liked it because it seemed both and contemporary and timeless at the same time, which seems to be the magic combination that holds so many of our favorite Christmas songs together.

Okay, honestly I first inwardly griped because I had not come up with those words and was sort of married to my first historical Christmas idea, until Peter (sensing we were working on a song that was possibly about to interrupt the delicate balance of our CD list) came down and badgered me to sever all connections.  Then I started appreciating Dad's words.

While Dad kept the lyrics coming, Peter and I started trying to select certain lines to piece together the song.  Peter has a well-refined bad lyric detector and would simply look at me or dad if we offered an even remotely lyric idea and reply simply, "No."

Putting together the chorus with Peter was especially cool, since we were sitting by our instruments, trying to finish the line "Listen to the Angels, even when their words seem far away" and Peter suddenly, out of the blue, came up with "You gotta trust that God will lead the way."

Another nice thing about working with Peter on a song is that he stays firm about getting things right when I feel firm about packing things up and going to bed.

So at 1:00 a.m. (after Dad had gone to bed) Peter announced to me that after the instrumental we needed a bridge.  However, working under pressure will sometimes make you produce faster than normal (just look at term papers) and the bridge did not take long to come up with (I suspect our guardian angels had a hand in this too).  Once again Peter had the critical words when my brain ceased working, such as "was born a humble babe to people who believed."

After finishing up the song we went to bed, and after vacation assembled our team of singers, Mary Callaghan (who had no idea she would be coming in to sing two original songs for our CD) Seth Bird (who never got to actually sing the song with Mary until the day he recorded it) and Katie Bird (who said she would just try a couple things, but as usual, knows just the sort of harmony that is needed to fill out a song) and Rebekah Callaghan (who also usually insists she doesn't know what she's doing, but sounded amazing on this song.  I think we actually might have sprung this one on her in the studio).

Since then Listen to the Angels has been performed with a variety of different people and has actually been heard on the radio a couple times around Christmas.  When we played it at Warm Hearts in Mechanicsburg (our favorite coffeehouse ever) someone actually came up to me to ask for the words (and in response I took the music off my stand and handed it to them. I'm not even sure if it had my name on it...).  We also have been requested to play this song a couple time when it is not Christmas, which has led to some interesting lyrical alterations when we are trying to remember and play the song at the same time.  It also has a tendency to become "Listen to the Angles" when we are trying to retype the words too quickly!

So now, Listen to the Angels (not the angles)!

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Our Show With Scythian!

Last Friday night we opened for Scythian!

This has been a dream for Seasons that goes back many years...(by many, I mean like, four...)

As of so far our contact with Scythian has consisted of going to their shows, standing (or jumping around and dancing) in awe, taking lots of pictures, and then perseverating on how cool it would be to open for them (though then Peter would look at us like we were crazy and say "we're not worthy!")

Repeat cycle for four years (with two exceptions):

Me running into Scythian randomly at Heavenly Grounds Coffeehouse in Steubenville, stammering hi, then running away (I am not proud of my reaction, but at least I said something).

Peter and I having conversation with Lex at the Renaissance Faire in August '09 when we were playing in the same Shire (we saw this as getting closer to our dream). We also gave him a copy of "Which Way to Dublin Town" (this will become important later in the story).

Then, a call comes in September from One Heart Ministries, our good friends who run Fortress 1230 am and the Warm Hearts Coffeehouse. They said they were having a fundraiser for the radio station and that Scythian had agreed to be the main act, and they would like to have bands Gravel and Grace and Seasons as opening shows!

At first this seemed like an instant dream come true, until we heard the date of the show, and realized Peter would still be away in Austria.

After breaking the news that we were going to open for Scythian to Peter (who was elated until he heard the date) we decided to get our act together and put together a fantastic set.

Here was our initial line up:

Grace--Dulcimer

Clare--Violin

MT--Lots of things

Mary-Kate: harp and vocals

We practiced and practiced (this is what we usually are doing when we have to bow out of social events) and just when I started feeling like we might just have a band (even without Peter of the blazing hammers) everyone in my house gets the flu. Except me.

Fast-forward to the day of the concert. Contrary to our hopes, Teresa is the only Season besides me who feels up to playing. Upon returning home from work and and begging Grace to not be sick and play the show (until mom told me I had to reorganize my priorities), I start desperately trying to brush up on the hammered dulcimer.

Honestly, there was a point where I looked up from our scribbled set list to the ticking clock and said, "I don't think I want to do this." Everything was going wrong: people were sick, music was misplaced, and none of the instruments were staying in tune.

Even though we came really close to calling to bow out of the concert, we decided to push through.

Finally, Teresa and I (with our drummer Sean) showed up at the Community Center in Mechanicsburg (after getting stuck in traffic) and who do we see sitting in the third row of chairs while their soundcheck was going on but Scythian.

I made Teresa go through their names for the millionth time while we unloaded our stuff.

Now, when I had pictured our dream of opening for Scythian coming true, I had never gotten to the point where we actually got to talk to them, but as we were standing to the side of the stage waiting for our sound check, who comes up to me but Dan Fedorkya of Scythian.

He introduces himself and says "I've been listening to your CD alot on the bus and I really like it. Especially the Song of Saint Patrick. You wrote that, right? The words are really beautiful."

How should one respond when someone from one's favorite band pays you a compliment?

If you are me, you try something really humorous and witty like "Oh. Really? Thanks."

Dan Fedorkya talked to us a little longer before going to get ready. Later I heard that he sat in on our set (luckily I didn't notice this at the time because I was too busy making faces at the Delps in the front row) and listening quite attentively.

The set (miraculously) went well, despite our diminished size (having Diane Bird and Sean Davis was a Godsend) and one of the most well-received numbers was the cover that we did of Peter's "River Song," which we decided to add at the 11th hour.

After us Gravel and Grace took the stage, playing two of my favorite Nickel Creek songs in their set. They were followed by you know who (no, not Lord Voldemort).

Scythian gave a shout-out to us at the beginning of their show, saying they'd almost worn out our CD from listening to it. Later, when they were playing "Si Bheag and Si Mhor" medlied into "The Snowy Path" Dan got this quizzical expression on his face. Once they finished the song he looks at MT and I and asks, "Don't you guys play that on your CD too?"

To which I once again replied, with my usual humor and wit, "Um, yeah."

MT and I took this comment as an excellent sign since "The Snowy Path" appears in the final third of our CD, suggesting that Dan did in fact listen to all 17 tracks! Whoo-hoo!

Afterward the show I got a chance to talk with Lex (I was able to redeem myself a little because we talked about books). We also picked up a copy of Scythian's new live album, which is fantastic and ties with "Dance at the Crossroads" as my favorite.

I said that we hoped we could open for them again sometime (hopefully with our full band) and Lex thought that it would work out well if we opened for them during parent's weekend at Steubenville next year.

So hopefully I will see many of you at Homecoming at Franciscan University of Steubenville next October if this indeed comes to fruition. And then our dream can come true all over again!

Rewinding "Flash Forward"

I can see the future. Or at least flashes of it. I know that every Thursday from 8:00-9:00 p.m., I will be curled up on the couch with a cup of tea absorbing every absorbing minute of Flash Forward, ABC's new drama.

The thing is, in Flash Forward every person in the world blacked out at the same time and actually received a glimpse of his or her future six months or so from that moment: two minutes and seventeen seconds of it, to be exact.

Whoah.

So, in a way, everyone knows how this series is going to end. Well, not really.

The characters are still struggling with what these visions mean. As Scrooge puts it in a Christmas Carol are these visions "things that will come to pass" or simply things that "might come to pass?"

Is Agent Mark Benford, the recovering alcoholic, destined to fall again to his addiction (and also solve the mystery of the blackout)?

Is Olivia Benford, Mark's wife, destined to cheat on him with the British Lloyd Simcoe (as in most T.V. shows, Simcoe's accent is a large part of his character on the show)?

Can Agent Dimitri Noh prevent himself being murdered on March 15, 2010?

No one knows.

The show is not overtly religious, unless you count the appearance of the priest who turns out to be %100 unhelpful and unsympathetic to the Benford's babysitter Nicole Kirby, who comes to the church looking for counsel and comfort (thanks for that insightful statement on organized religion, ABC...).

However, this show, while packaging it in a flashier format than usual, is grappling with that age old question of destiny. Is the future constantly shifting or is it pre-determined, or some strange combination of the two? From Oedipus Rex to Star Wars, humanity has been exploring the idea of destiny in art, and, from the great response that ABC has received from Flash Forward, it looks like this theme has yet to get old (and it is well over 2,000 years old).

Actress Sonya Walger (Olivia Benford) says about Flash Forward "You're dealing with very human ripple effects, how people deal with it and how they come to terms with it (FlashForward Fanatic.com)."

The characters in Flashforward are dealing with their glimpses of the "future" in different ways.

"Even if this future stuff is real, maybe it's a blessing in disguise," says Mark's A.A. sponsor and close friend Aaron.

Bryce Varley, a medical intern on the point of suicide before the Blackout, agrees that the flashes were a gift.

Olivia Beford fears the future coming true. However, it seems no matter how much she tries to avoid Mr. Simcoe, he keeps popping up in her life.

This show is also repeatedly brings up the importance of faith, and how sometimes one has to believe in things that one can't prove are true (watch Episode Three for a great conversation about faith and belief between Mark Benford and another Agent Janice Hawk).

There is also a running theme of trust versus secrecy, between many of the characters, and how secrecy (even in order to protect someone you love) puts a strain on the relationship and will come out in the end.

Right now, the characters who seem most content in Flash Forward are the ones who are living in the present, despite their flashes of the Future, and I think this is an important life lesson for all of us.

While we can't know the future, sometimes you would think we do with the amount of worry we put into it. We worry about our jobs (or lack of), our relationships (or lack of) and where we are ultimately headed in life. Those in Flash Forward don't know if their two minutes and seventeen seconds of the future will come to pass or not, and we also cannot say with certainty where any of us will be in the next ten years (let alone the next ten days).

So make today the best today you can make it, and let tomorrow take care of itself.

And on Thursday, watch Flash Forward. Here is a link so you can catch up: http://abc.go.com

P.S. Dominic Monaghan is also a cast member!

Rain, Reality, and Renaissance Faires

As many of you know, my current music gig is playing "harpist for the queen" at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire.

It is so typical that I finally get around to writing about one weekend of the Renaissance Faire and the next begins in only two more short days! Luckily though, playing at the Renaissance Faire is a bit like being in the movie "Groundhog's Day." We all gather in the globe theatre at 9:45 a.m. for a morning meeting, notes, and to receive our playing schedules for the day, then I go and putter around in the Gazebo until the Faire opens with gunshots, a burst of music, and the general feel of a Carnival. Every day at the Faire England comes under threat from the Queen's wicked cousin, there is a dramatic joust, and all is well by the end of the day.

Often I will find myself having the same conversations with Renaissance Faire characters that I have had the weekend before, such as my interactions with the Spanish Ambassador:

Myself: "Good day my lord!"

SA: "Oh, your music is bueno! I will sit here in the garden and listen for a bit."

Myself: "Well, let me play you a Spanish song, my lord!"

SA: "Oh how wonderful!"

Or something to that extent.

One thing that does change at the Faire is my accent. I will start the day resolving to be a British person and stay a British person, but I tend to mimic the accent of whatever character I am speaking to or have just heard. I range from an Irish lass, a Scott, a fine lady, a cockney speaking wench, and a piratical harpist. The only time I was seriously messed-up by this shape shifting was when I encountered a gypsy speaking in this incredibly strange Polish/Russian/Hungarian hybrid. I couldn't mimic her, but I also couldn't manage to be British while hearing her speak, so it was a bit like a computer going into over load!

Another thing that changes, and often far to often for my liking, it the weather. Two weekend ago we had a torrential rainstorm/near tornado as we were gathering for pub sing, leading Peter and I to take shelter in a New Age Pewter Shop with a monk, one of the Queen's Ladies in Waiting, and the shopkeepers. Surreal.

Luckily for the first two weekends my brother Peter was able to come along with me, but he has now picked up and gone to Austria, so I shall be facing the Faire along this weekend.

Though expect to see either Teresa or Grace there with me very soon!

The Road Goes Ever On

The blank blog that lies before me is both thrilling, because I can fill it with whatever I wish, and frightening, for the fact of its sheer blankness and unknown quality.
Ironically, this webpage very much resembles my post-college life. The past four years, while filled with surprises, were nevertheless shaped by a certain framework, the rhythm of semester, Christmas break, semester, Summer break, semester...(repeat at will).
Graduation has changed all of that. When you graduate you trade in your previous recipe for life and are presented with a counter full of ingredients but no book of how to put them all together. There is also the slight problem of sometimes not knowing quite what you want to cook. This is like the feeling of being hungry, but only knowing what you do not want to eat. Usually, by this drawn-out process of elimination you typically end up discovering what you're really craving.
Accompanying this general air of bewilderment are periods when you feel you know exactly what you want to eat, but believe that the ingredients are no where to be found, and that you will have to be satisfied with eating jello when your heart longs after apple crisp. Sometimes it is unclear which path is more frightening: being satisfied with less, or sallying forth in search of more.
The artist Georgia O'Keefe wrote "I have been terrified every day of my life, but that has never stopped me from doing everything I wanted to do."
As a young writer/musician who dreams of double-P status (paid and published) these words comfort me in this very strange and overwhelming world without the structure of school, and I am sure that you can find comfort in them as well.
If something is truly great and worth doing, the prospect of it might leave us a little frightened. Fear can actually be an indicator that we are on the right track for what God wants us to do, since it can elucidate what boundaries we must cross and what limitations we are putting on ourselves. Fear only becomes a problem when it makes us back down from a challenge instead of stepping up to it.
God is the master chef, and He doesn't want us to settle for jello when He knows our hearts long for something different. It is only our decision to stop seeking that will get in the way of His will for our lives. And if He doesn't give us the whole recipe at once, maybe it's because He wants us to focus on adding one ingredient at a time. If we are worrying about how long to simmer something when we are only chopping up the ingredients, we may end up losing a finger, or adding too many carrots, or...you get the idea. Only if we follow God's pacing will we end up cooking the life he intended for us (which is much, much better than twinkies or other promises of prepackaged happiness).
This blog will chronicle my comings and goings in the band Seasons, as well as hopefully be a venue for me to share some of my writings and hear some of your feedback (this probably could be two separate blogs, but I don't want to spread at my currently non-existant readership that far yet).
Finally, for now, I will close with a quote from J.R.R. Tolkien, as he so graciously supplied the title for this post:
"The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places. But still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater."




May you find fairness today,
~Mary-Kate Spring