http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/index/ en beth@bethmcintosh.com Copyright 2009 2009-11-11T18:05:24+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/artists_and_other_endangered_species/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/artists_and_other_endangered_species/#When:18:05:24Z Ucross.  Light.  Time.  Hills.  Non-human companionship.  Human conversation (limited).  Safety.  And the FOOD.  Beautiful, soulful, nutritious, abundant, gorgeous. I cannot offer a sound bite about how much this experience means to me, how magical the moments, how lucky I am. No, for me this is a back-from-the-edge-of-artistic-extinction moment.  I’ve been put back onto the Endangered Species List where at least I can safely rest.  My time at the Ucross Foundation Campus amounts to a transcendent intervention, a last minute pardon from the gallows.  It is nothing short of a mythic rescue from the falling, falling, falling into the morass of conventional busyness.  An artist can be busy.  An artist can be productive.  People can look at an artist, see work, and say, “She is creative.”  But an artist cannot make authentic work unless she knows who she is.  Perhaps she doesn’t always experience it this way.  She is constantly floundering to find out.  But from time to time, from rock to rock crossing the stream, she must know her own specific gravity in her bones.  Her first artistic duty is to loyally and carefully follow the trajectory of who she was born to be. Grizzly bears cannot thrive while constantly being harangued and harassed, pursued, persecuted, interrupted.  In the physical and psychic realms, we put ourselves in great danger if collectively we hold no space for the Great Bear and other relative rarities, including artists.  In the real word we misunderstand art and mishandle the gift, mostly by way of bobbling at the receiving end.  But also by the constant encroachment on habitat, the ceaseless interruption of process. At Ucross, there is healthy habitat for artists.  There is quiet and a respect for process.  There is the nuts-and-bolts nurturing of good (really good) food.  Perhaps most important, there are other members of the group.  There is not an animal, even the Great Bear, who can survive entirely alone. I will not offer a sound bite.  The meaning and depth of this experience is rich and complex.  This place is no less than a monastery.  The genius elements, large and small, alchemically combine to create a place of active rest.  A place where art can be born, live, and ultimately pass into the collective body of work upon which we all draw daily, whether we know it or not. Ucross.  Light.  Time.  Hills.  Non-human companionship.  Human conversation (limited).  Safety.  And the FOOD.  Beautiful, soulful, nutritious, abundant, gorgeous. I cannot offer a sound bite about how much this experience means to me, how magical the moments, how lucky I am. No, for me this is a back-from-the-edge-of-artistic-extinction moment.  I’ve been put back onto the Endangered Species List where at least I can safely rest.  My time at the Ucross Foundation Campus amounts to a transcendent intervention, a last minute pardon from the gallows.  It is nothing short of a mythic rescue from the falling, falling, falling into the morass of conventional busyness.  An artist can be busy.  An artist can be productive.  People can look at an artist, see work, and say, “She is creative.”  But an artist cannot make authentic work unless she knows who she is.  Perhaps she doesn’t always experience it this way.  She is constantly floundering to find out.  But from time to time, from rock to rock crossing the stream, she must know her own specific gravity in her bones.  Her first artistic duty is to loyally and carefully follow the trajectory of who she was born to be. Grizzly bears cannot thrive while constantly being harangued and harassed, pursued, persecuted, interrupted.  In the physical and psychic realms, we put ourselves in great danger if collectively we hold no space for the Great Bear and other relative rarities, including artists.  In the real word we misunderstand art and mishandle the gift, mostly by way of bobbling at the receiving end.  But also by the constant encroachment on habitat, the ceaseless interruption of process. At Ucross, there is healthy habitat for artists.  There is quiet and a respect for process.  There is the nuts-and-bolts nurturing of good (really good) food.  Perhaps most important, there are other members of the group.  There is not an animal, even the Great Bear, who can survive entirely alone. I will not offer a sound bite.  The meaning and depth of this experience is rich and complex.  This place is no less than a monastery.  The genius elements, large and small, alchemically combine to create a place of active rest.  A place where art can be born, live, and ultimately pass into the collective body of work upon which we all draw daily, whether we know it or not.   2009-11-11T18:05:24+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/literacy_and_the_rinpoche/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/literacy_and_the_rinpoche/#When:17:45:27Z As a bellow-beginner armchair Buddhist I was delighted to have my first experience sitting with and listening to Phakchock Rinpoche, the reincarnate Buddhist lama.  The evening was lovely, poignant and deeply humorous—a song, a poem, a prayer and a lecture rolled into one.  Spiritual traditions more familiar to me have possessed these same elements, but the evening with the Rinpoche differed in this way:  The poetic aspects did not seem separate from each other nor from the message of his talk.  All of it was all of it.  In particular, the Rinpoche repeated concepts many times, the like a chorus or refrain.  The rhythms and pitches he used added up to one long, beautiful song.  Although his English was excellent, there were times when the translations became funny literary puzzles and the host had to explain the questions that were posed.  This was perhaps my favorite part.  The symbols and words in the prayer book seemed to reach into the far-away exotica in my soul, and spoke to me from a vastly different perspective. A word reaches beyond it’s literal meaning.  When sung, a word is completely different than when said.  A song in a language unfamiliar to the listener can illicit the most passionate response of all.  The timbre of the voice in utterance communicates much more than the dictionary definition.  Thus it may be the phoneme itself that pierces our hearts. The evening before the Rinpoche’s talk, I sat on a panel with the talented fireball Alexandra Fuller (aka Bo Ross) to help celebrate the Teton Literacy Program.  It was a terrific honor and lots of fun.  We spoke of how important words are to each of us.  The Teton Literacy Program is dedicated not only to establishing fluency in English and other languages for critical life skills, but also to the nurturance of the highest use of words:  Literature, poetry, and song. The completion of any form involving words occurs within the Genius Listener.  The gift is created in the open heart of the receiver of the word, note, or idea.  Often when I’m ‘listening’ in conversation I am simultaneously thinking of the next thing that I am going to say.  Occasionally I will be still enough to hear the echo, the space, the immense landscape of thought. As a bellow-beginner armchair Buddhist I was delighted to have my first experience sitting with and listening to Phakchock Rinpoche, the reincarnate Buddhist lama.  The evening was lovely, poignant and deeply humorous—a song, a poem, a prayer and a lecture rolled into one.  Spiritual traditions more familiar to me have possessed these same elements, but the evening with the Rinpoche differed in this way:  The poetic aspects did not seem separate from each other nor from the message of his talk.  All of it was all of it.  In particular, the Rinpoche repeated concepts many times, the like a chorus or refrain.  The rhythms and pitches he used added up to one long, beautiful song.  Although his English was excellent, there were times when the translations became funny literary puzzles and the host had to explain the questions that were posed.  This was perhaps my favorite part.  The symbols and words in the prayer book seemed to reach into the far-away exotica in my soul, and spoke to me from a vastly different perspective. A word reaches beyond it’s literal meaning.  When sung, a word is completely different than when said.  A song in a language unfamiliar to the listener can illicit the most passionate response of all.  The timbre of the voice in utterance communicates much more than the dictionary definition.  Thus it may be the phoneme itself that pierces our hearts. The evening before the Rinpoche’s talk, I sat on a panel with the talented fireball Alexandra Fuller (aka Bo Ross) to help celebrate the Teton Literacy Program.  It was a terrific honor and lots of fun.  We spoke of how important words are to each of us.  The Teton Literacy Program is dedicated not only to establishing fluency in English and other languages for critical life skills, but also to the nurturance of the highest use of words:  Literature, poetry, and song. The completion of any form involving words occurs within the Genius Listener.  The gift is created in the open heart of the receiver of the word, note, or idea.  Often when I’m ‘listening’ in conversation I am simultaneously thinking of the next thing that I am going to say.  Occasionally I will be still enough to hear the echo, the space, the immense landscape of thought. After singing us into an active sleep, the Rinpoche would stop for long, long periods of time.  It seemed as though in that vast openness I could hear the mountains and deep waters and very centuries containing the collective legacy of every Buddhist monk since the beginning of time.  A bare room, with silk curtains and a wood floor. Literacy.  I hope to become fluent in the art of the Genius Listener. 2009-11-11T17:45:27+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/walk_and_walk_all_over_the_place/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/walk_and_walk_all_over_the_place/#When:16:52:28Z Sometimes I shake my finger at my children and say, “You Must Have Fun!”  They say this is a good rule.  It is. The other best-ever rule is the Scottish Outdoor Access Code.  Quite simply, as is evident in the first sentence of this manifesto on life worth living, the code suggests that we all have the basic human right to enjoy sunrises, sunsets, breezes, tickley grasses and sparkly water while we have time on the planet.  The code states that:  “Everyone has the right to be on most land and inland water providing they act responsibly.”  This means you can’t hurt or bother things or animals (including people).  You can’t take things away to sell.  You must keep your dog from bothering things and animals (including people).  It means that you can’t invade privacy.  One of the best aspects of The Code is the re-designation of land-owners, along with other people such as caretakers and occupants, as “land managers” which is the right idea—property rights define us as stewards, not feudal lords.  Is there anything that I don’t love about this rule?  Let-me-think-about-it-for-as-long-as-it-takes-me-to-type-this-sentence-NO. What happens is that people end up wanting to walk.  Land managers end up providing appropriate and non-invasive pathways so that people can walk.  And the collective psyche changes. Thoreau has it right.  We explore our world and ourselves via concentric circles using the least amount of travel technology—this is how we ignite our humanity.  The very integrity of the heart, soul, mind and moral compass are dependent on this intimacy with place.  Without a policy such as the Scottish Outdoor Access Code, self-knowledge (and therefore empathy) is impossible.  WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?  Here’s the next verse of the Pretzel Time song: It’s a basic human right to walk with grace Walk and walk all over the place Like it or not my friend, it’s in your face Why not here and NOW? Policy makers!  Change the rules!!  Conceptualize and implement laws that encourage walking!  Land ownership must be redefined!  Non motorized travel will be rediscovered!  People will start showing up without their cars!  Right here in my back yard I want to see the inside road of Grand Teton National Park closed to cars.  How about hundreds of Free White Bikes (or any color you prefer)?!  Let’s provide regular, comfortable shuttle busses that can carry bikes.  This particular example is low-hanging fruit, a no brainer.  It’s an emergency!  We need to do this RIGHT NOW. Sometimes I shake my finger at my children and say, “You Must Have Fun!”  They say this is a good rule.  It is. The other best-ever rule is the Scottish Outdoor Access Code.  Quite simply, as is evident in the first sentence of this manifesto on life worth living, the code suggests that we all have the basic human right to enjoy sunrises, sunsets, breezes, tickley grasses and sparkly water while we have time on the planet.  The code states that:  “Everyone has the right to be on most land and inland water providing they act responsibly.”  This means you can’t hurt or bother things or animals (including people).  You can’t take things away to sell.  You must keep your dog from bothering things and animals (including people).  It means that you can’t invade privacy.  One of the best aspects of The Code is the re-designation of land-owners, along with other people such as caretakers and occupants, as “land managers” which is the right idea—property rights define us as stewards, not feudal lords.  Is there anything that I don’t love about this rule?  Let-me-think-about-it-for-as-long-as-it-takes-me-to-type-this-sentence-NO. What happens is that people end up wanting to walk.  Land managers end up providing appropriate and non-invasive pathways so that people can walk.  And the collective psyche changes. Thoreau has it right.  We explore our world and ourselves via concentric circles using the least amount of travel technology—this is how we ignite our humanity.  The very integrity of the heart, soul, mind and moral compass are dependent on this intimacy with place.  Without a policy such as the Scottish Outdoor Access Code, self-knowledge (and therefore empathy) is impossible.  WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?  Here’s the next verse of the Pretzel Time song: It’s a basic human right to walk with grace Walk and walk all over the place Like it or not my friend, it’s in your face Why not here and NOW? Policy makers!  Change the rules!!  Conceptualize and implement laws that encourage walking!  Land ownership must be redefined!  Non motorized travel will be rediscovered!  People will start showing up without their cars!  Right here in my back yard I want to see the inside road of Grand Teton National Park closed to cars.  How about hundreds of Free White Bikes (or any color you prefer)?  Let’s provide regular, comfortable shuttle busses that can carry bikes.  This particular example is low-hanging fruit, a no brainer.  It’s an emergency!  We need to do this RIGHT NOW. And speaking of showing up without your car!  What if we all started showing up at events, parties, schools, work, EVERYWHERE without our cars?  Can you imagine?  Think of the freedom!  Policy would follow.  Architecture would follow.  Urban planning would follow.  It’s time to extricate the psyche from the car, using the Jaws of Life metaphorically—before we have to use them literally.. 2009-09-30T16:52:28+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/1200_free_white_bikes/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/1200_free_white_bikes/#When:15:52:13Z In the Netherlands there is the National Park de Hoge Veluwe .  Within the boundaries of this park is the incomparable Kroller-Muller Museum(GO TO THIS LINK!! CHECK OUT THE PICTURE OF THE 1200 FREE WHITE BIKES!!  IT’S A SIGH TO BEHOLD!!), where you can see original works by Van Gogh and Picasso among other masters.  But here’s the thing.  You arrive via your own strength, breath and balance, skimming across the park on one of 1200 Free White Bikes which you have acquired after having parked your gas-guzzling-life-shortener (aka car) at the park boundary.  These bikes are not difficult to ride—they are ‘cruisers’—and because you sit up straight and really can’t go very fast you are inspired to breathe, take it all in, and experience the world in the most intelligent and sane manner available to a human being.  This is a stroke of genius on the part of the visionaries who created this park and should be studied by all National Park decision makers in every country on earth, not to mention every person everywhere.  The Netherlands, which is one of the worlds most densely populated countries, has had to figure out how to live well with incredible pressure and restriction on driving in particular.  I think the government there might issue solid black transportation bikes to each citizen at birth.  We should do the same in this country.  My own beloved Dutch Bike is from The Hague (Den Haag), and it has the ‘license plate’ to prove it.  Have you noticed the Slow Bike Movement?  How about the World Institute of Slowness?  These little gems explain MUCH.  So let’s talk about it. I’m working on a song: working title “Pretzel Time” (the twisting and turning and doubling back).  In the song there are: 1200 Free White Bikes to ride Picasso, Van Gogh and not a car in sight I wake bolt upright in the middle of the night Why not Here and Now? Also in the same song we have the Scottish Walking Rule, the latter of which I will explain in the next entry.  For now, though, I must hop on top of my Dutch-ess and get to the local market for some bread, veggies, red wine and perhaps a movie rental.  Join me? In the Netherlands there is the National Park de Hoge Veluwe .  Within the boundaries of this park is the incomparable Kroller-Muller Museum (GO TO THIS LINK!! CHECK OUT THE PICTURE OF THE 1200 FREE WHITE BIKES!!  IT’S A SIGH TO BEHOLD!!), where you can see original works by Van Gogh and Picasso among other masters.  But here’s the thing.  You arrive via your own strength, breath and balance, skimming across the park on one of 1200 Free White Bikes which you have acquired after having parked your gas-guzzling-life-shortener (aka: car) at the park boundary.  These bikes are not difficult to ride—they are ‘cruisers’—and because you sit up straight and really can’t go very fast you are inspired to breathe, take it all in, and experience the world in the most intelligent and sane manner available to a human being.  This is a stroke of genius on the part of the visionaries who created this park and should be studied by all National Park decision makers in every country on earth, not to mention every person everywhere.  The Netherlands, which is one of the worlds most densely populated countries, has had to figure out how to live well with incredible pressure and restriction on driving in particular.  I think the government there might issue solid black transportation bikes to each citizen at birth.  We should do the same in this country.  My own beloved Dutch Bike is from The Hague (Den Haag), and it has the ‘license plate’ to prove it.  I’m working on a song:  working title “Pretzel Time” (the twisting and turning).  In the song, there are: 1200 Free White Bikes to ride Picasso, Van Gogh and not a car in sight I wake bolt upright in the middle of the night Why not Here and Now? Also in the same song we have the Scottish Walking Rule, the latter of which I will explain in the next entry.  Have you noticed the Slow Bike Movement?  How about the World Institute of Slowness?  These little gems explain MUCH.  I refuse to reference my beloved Dutch-ess as “alternative transportation,” for she is her own lovely, heavy, sturdy, slow, brilliantly engineered beauty.  Anyone who has spent any extended time on a bike has known at least one moment of the sheer primal hatred of motor vehicles.  It’s an important perspective.  So let’s talk about it. For now, though, I must hop on top of my Dutch-ess and get to the local market for some bread, veggies, red wine and perhaps a movie rental.  Join me? 2009-07-17T15:52:13+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/superstar/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/superstar/#When:15:46:55Z It was my distinct privilege to sing with Phil Round and Keith Philips at the service for Will Neal.  A 19 year old superstar, Will was taken from all of us by our addiction to fossil fuel, the very thing he worked so hard in his amazing life to put back into balance in this world.  We have all been hoodwinked by a subtle and powerful hologram that convinces us that we must motor about, multi-task, and go faster than is—in the end—humanly possible.  The hardest part for me is sharing in this culpability.  It should be said that Will was struck down by a motor vehicle while he himself was using his own strength for non-motorized means of travel.  We are left with a gigantic, un-fill-able hole.  I just don’t know what it takes for us to wake up. It was my distinct privilege to sing with Phil Round and Keith Philips at the service for Will Neal.  A 19 year old superstar, Will was taken from all of us by our addiction to fossil fuel, the very thing he worked so hard in his amazing life to put back into balance in this world.  We have all been hoodwinked by a subtle and powerful hologram that convinces us that we must motor about, multi-task, and go faster than is—in the end—humanly possible.  The hardest part for me is sharing in this culpability.  It should be said that Will was struck down by a motor vehicle while he himself was using his own strength for non-motorized means of travel.  We are left with a gigantic, un-fill-able hole.  I just don’t know what it takes for us to wake up. 2009-07-17T15:46:55+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/kid_song/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/kid_song/#When:16:43:07Z Have you heard about the social science experiment where Joshua Bell played classical violin in the DC metro?  One of the salient points (among many) was the fact that, of the few people that recognized this beauty, most were CHILDREN.  No, duh!! Recently I performed a song with children from the Teton Valley Community School ages 3-13 which they wrote entitled “Circle of Life.”  Perhaps my favorite moments were within the sessions with the stream-of-consciousness-highly-dialed-in three year old set.  Their contribution—the repeating soliloquy, “This Is My World.”  Indeed.  Are they talking to themselves?  Are we listening?  As a confirmed eccentric, belligerently covetous of direct experience, I am not able to work for anyone except the children. For me, listening to what children have to say musically and lyrically is a wake-up call and reality check.  Never mind that it’s a gas!  I have collected a body of work which includes 50 songs written by children from regional/national schools, all of which attract other children and are fun as heck to sing and play. And it’s a blast to be involved with my own offspring and their explorations with music.  They listen to everything and make up really cool stuff.  More on this to come. Have you heard about the social science experiment where Joshua Bell played classical violin in the DC metro?  One of the salient points (among many) was the fact that, of the few people that recognized this beauty, most were CHILDREN.  No, duh!! Recently I performed a song with children from the Teton Valley Community School ages 3-13 which they wrote entitled “Circle of Life.”  Perhaps my favorite moments were within the sessions with the stream-of-consciousness-highly-dialed-in three year old set.  Their contribution—the repeating soliloquy, “This Is My World.”  Indeed.  Are they talking to themselves?  Are we listening?  As a confirmed eccentric, belligerently covetous of direct experience, I am not able to work for anyone except the children. For me, listening to what children have to say musically and lyrically is a wake-up call and reality check.  Never mind that it’s a gas! I have collected a body of work which includes 50 songs written by children from regional/national schools, all of which attract other children and are fun as heck to sing and play. And it’s a blast to be involved with my own offspring and their explorations with music.  They listen to everything and make up really cool stuff.  More on this to come. My favorite line to sing from the title track of SONGLINE, is the ending phrase, “Hearing the Child.” excerpts fromWALKING THE SONG (title track from SONGLINE) Walking the SongSinging the DreamChasing the RhythmTaste the Melody Great Mysteries inform the RocksFeet will inform the VoiceRocks, if we listen, inform the feetCome Alive!  Make the Choice! Stalking the TruthFreeing the WildTrusting the LoveHearing the ChildHearing the ChildHearing the Child See music video of Walking the Song, shot in Arches National Park near Moab, UT int he snow!! 2009-06-10T16:43:07+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/gratitude/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/gratitude/#When:18:34:11Z Gratitude is my favorite anti-depressant.  Gratitude fills the space until there is simply no room for whining!  There is no use in reducing depression, a formidable foe, to mere whining, but real demons and ghosts cower before the courageous, unburdened heart.  Simple, but not so easy, I know.  Thanks to so, so many incredible people attending, Ghost Forests and the Fate of the Grizzly (see previous entry) was a huge success, as is outlined by Louisa Wilcox of NRDC.  Thank you, Louisa, for words regarding my song for the whitebark pine, currently entitled “What To Hold.”  I wrote the song after a long and, as always, potent conversation with Louisa about the soul of the beautiful and ancient whitebark pine.  It was a pure pleasure to write and yet, as is often the case, the process evoked many states of being which are not normally considered pleasant.  Yes, the song is a requiem for what we’ve lost and inevitably will lose. I hope it helps galvanize us to fight for what is appropriate and possible to hold.  And to let go of the burdens we carry—the unnecessary and deadening excesses of our lives.  Carefully deciding what is worthy of fear, fighting unreservedly to maintain the wild open spaces in my mind and heart, and speaking the truth plainly are lessons I continue to learn from my beloved friend Doug Peacock.  Doug’s wild charisma and deep intelligence brought us all into a state of receptivity to the powerful science of Jesse Logan, and the poetry of Tom Turiano’s walking observations.  We also got to hear the luxurious Tom Turiano and Valerie Seaberg, as they helped us celebrate each other and strategize the good work that lies ahead.  THANK YOU ALL. And speaking of thanks, how about a great thanks to Ray Polito of Confluence Media for his brilliance in helping me with my website and this blog!  Thank you Ray.  Can I go on all day?  That’s how long it would take me to thank everybody.  It is an honor to be represented on Counterpunch as the May 13 “Website of the Day” along with Doug and Andrea Peacock and all the other amazing people there.  Thanks, Jeff St. Claire for that.  And many thanks to the Jackson Hole News and Guide and Samantha Getz for treating us so well in the Wednesday, 20 May STEPPING OUT section of the weekly paper.  You’d know how grateful I truly am if you knew what she COULD have written after listening to the uncensored banter of a, shall we say, creative family. There is so much more.  But right now I have to practice the song I helped write with kids ages 3-12 called, ‘This Is My World.”  The three-year-olds came up with that title.  Quite a song. Thanks for checking in, Beth Gratitude is my favorite anti-depressant.  Gratitude fills the space until there is simply no room for whining!  There is no use in reducing depression, a formidable foe, to mere whining, but real demons and ghosts cower before the courageous, unburdened heart.  Simple, but not so easy, I know.  Thanks to so, so many incredible people attending, Ghost Forests and the Fate of the Grizzly (see previous entry) was a huge success, as is outlined by Louisa Wilcox of NRDC.  Thank you, Louisa, for the words and emotions regarding my song for the whitebark pine, currently entitled “What To Hold.”  I wrote the song after a long and, as always, potent conversation with Louisa about the soul of the beautiful and ancient whitebark pine.  It was a pure pleasure to write and yet, as is often the case, the process evoked many states of being which are not normally considered pleasant.  Yes, the song is a requiem for what we’ve lost and inevitably will lose. I hope it helps galvanize us to fight for what is appropriate and possible to hold.  And to let go of the burdens we carry—the unnecessary and deadening excesses of our lives.  Carefully deciding what is worthy of fear, fighting unreservedly to maintain the wild open spaces in my mind and heart, and speaking the truth plainly are lessons I continue to learn from my beloved friend Doug Peacock.  Doug’s wild charisma and deep intelligence brought us all into a state of receptivity to the powerful science of Jesse Logan, and the poetry of Tom Turiano’s walking observations.  We also got to hear the luxurious Tom Turiano and Valerie Seaberg, as they helped us celebrate each other and strategize the good work that lies ahead.  THANK YOU ALL. And speaking of thanks, how about a great thanks to Ray Polito of Confluence Media for his brilliance in helping me with my website and this blog!  Thank you Ray.  Can I go on all day?  That’s how long it would take me to thank everybody.  It is an honor to be represented on Counterpunch as the May 13 “Website of the Day” along with Doug and Andrea Peacock and all the other amazing people there.  Thanks, Jeff St. Claire for that.  And many thanks to the Jackson Hole News and Guide and Samantha Getz for treating us so well in the Wednesday, 20 May STEPPING OUT section of the weekly paper.  You’d know how grateful I truly am if you knew what she COULD have written after listening to the uncensored banter of a, shall we say, creative family. There is so much more.  But right now I have to practice the song I helped write with kids ages 3-12 at the Teton Valley Community School called, ‘This Is My World.”  The three-year-olds came up with that title.  Quite a song. Thanks for checking in, Beth 2009-06-02T18:34:11+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/bears/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/bears/#When:03:08:22Z Bears.  Have you seen them out and about?  It’s a mixed thrill to see them this year, knowing that they are being driven out of their safer zones by the recent drastic die-off of whitebark pine trees, one of their main food sources.  The Great Bear is in real trouble.  I’ll be performing a brand new song next Tuesday 19 May at the Teton Science Schools Jackson Campus with my pal Doug Peacock, Jesse Logan and Tom Turiano.  The evening is called Ghost Forests and the Fate of the Grizzly.  The song I wrote for the whitebark is in an open tuning, based on the slack key tunings that I was exposed to on Kauai last month.  Of course I had to adapt the tuning just a little… but it is so beautifully suited to the deep richness of my Snake River Guitar by Chuck Spray Lutherie.  Phil Round will accompany me on HIS Snake River Guitar, and I know you will love the chocolate/obsidian tones of these indigenous guitars.  The working title for this song is “What To Hold,” and it begins by asking the question, “What to let go, what to hold?”  See you there.  And do let me know what inspired you. Bears.  Have you seen them out and about?  It’s a mixed thrill to see them this year, knowing that they are being driven out of their safer zones by the recent drastic die-off of whitebark pine trees, one of their main food sources.  The Great Bear is in real trouble.  I’ll be performing a brand new song next Tuesday 19 May at the Teton Science Schools Jackson Campus with my pal Doug Peacock, Jesse Logan and Tom Turiano.  The evening is called Ghost Forests and the Fate of the Grizzly.  The song I wrote for the whitebark is in an open tuning, based on the slack key tunings that I was exposed to on Kauai last month.  Of course I had to adapt the tuning just a little… but it is so beautifully suited to the deep richness of my Snake River Guitar by Chuck Spray Lutherie.  Phil Round will accompany me on HIS Snake River Guitar, and I know you will love the chocolate/obsidian tones of these indigenous guitars.  The working title for this song is “What To Hold,” and it begins by asking the question, “What to let go, what to hold?”  See you there.  And do let me know what inspired you. 2009-05-15T03:08:22+00:00 http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/launch/ http://www.sidetracks.bz/index.php/site/launch/#When:23:43:22Z Launch. Don’t you just love that word.  Of course images of ships and businesses come to mind, but also there is that hint of nausea—sickening excitement, the companion of newness.  So here I go, launching this new communication.  It’s a thrill!  Like emailing your best pal in the morning before you get steeped and mired in the minutia of the day.  I look forward to conversation, an informal klatch which might explore the melodic, rhythmic and poetic motion of life.  What a blast. Waves.  Stories seem to me like waves.  They generate themselves way way out there in the unseen, then travel vast distances, then build, then break in any manner of style and intensity, then recede back into the mystery.  Just returning from a journey in the Pacific I can still hear and see the waves.  It keeps coming back to me in, well, waves.  Our story of the moment is this: my little clan of four (husband Phil Round, sons Wilden McIntosh-Round age 14 and Rainer Mason McIntosh-Round age 10 and I) performed, sold a song, and studied under slack key guitar master and Grammy nominee Paul Togioka on the north shore of the island of Kauai.  We lived in a small neighborhood adjacent to the Kilauea Lighthouse and Bird Sanctuary.  Breaching humpback, spinner dolphin, frigate and tropic bird, red footed booby and albatross all at once.  The rhythm!  The melody!  The poetry!! Launch. Don’t you just love that word.  Of course images of ships and businesses come to mind, but also there is that hint of nausea—sickening excitement, the companion of newness.  So here I go, launching this new communication.  It’s a thrill!  Like emailing your best pal in the morning before you get steeped and mired in the minutia of the day.  I look forward to conversation, an informal klatch which might explore the melodic, rhythmic and poetic motion of life.  What a blast. Waves.  Stories seem to me like waves.  They generate themselves way way out there in the unseen, then travel vast distances, then build, then break in any manner of style and intensity, then recede back into the mystery.  Just returning from a journey in the Pacific I can still hear and see the waves.  It keeps coming back to me in, well, waves.  Our story of the moment is this: my little clan of four (husband Phil Round, sons Wilden McIntosh-Round age 14 and Rainer Mason McIntosh-Round age 10 and I) performed, sold a song, and studied under slack key guitar master and Grammy nominee Paul Togioka on the north shore of the island of Kauai.  We lived in a small neighborhood adjacent to the Kilauea Lighthouse and Bird Sanctuary.  Breaching humpback, spinner dolphin, frigate and tropic bird, red footed booby and albatross all at once.  The rhythm!  The melody!  The poetry!!  Trade winds.  We lived next door the venerable “Evril,”  from Guyana, who blessed us with a smile you can’t describe and graciously lent us her bicycle.  Her family photo included people from all over the world, and the sheer genetic strength, grace and beauty silenced us.  Auspicious trade winds blow as Barrack Obama brings this amalgam to Washington DC. Slack.  Give me some.  Loosen up.  Slack key guitar says this and more.  Thanks to Berklee jazz guitarist Tony LeHoven who operates TV Juice Productions with his wife Susan, we were able to perform, sell a slack key song and meet members of the music community on Kauai.  Since Hawaii is technically part of the United States, it’s easy to forget that it s the most remote place on the planet (why do we forget the essential nature of things we ‘own’?).  Historically Hawaii has had one of the highest incidences of endemic species in the world.  The music reflects this singularity but also is formed by cultural dynamism.  The guitar was brought to Hawaii in the 19th century, and now slack key style plays a major role.  We studied the most common tunings including the taro patch, wahine and Mauna Loa tunings, and a lesser used but worthy C6 tuning.  Many of the traditional songs have a five measure cycle, which also makes the music interesting and challenging to the ‘American’ ear.  Lessons are available for all levels. Snake River Guitars.  Meanwhile back home both our indigenous/endemic guitars were being tweaked by master luthier .  Chuck crafted both our guitars right here in this house in Wilson.  They have aged beautifully and all who hear them around the world are stunned by the richness, clarity, and soul of these instruments.  They speak about THIS amazing place with a voice unparalleled. So we’re back to it, hooray for the Yellowstone Plateau and all it embodies.  I’m using the C6 tuning on a new song which I’ll perform with my pal the legendary Doug Peacock at the Teton Science School Jackson Campus on 19 May (free beer!).  More on this on the next entry!  Thanks for reading this, and I look forward to comments, questions, or a quick hello.  Mahalo!! 2009-04-28T23:43:22+00:00