Tag: Music

Going on an Architectural Adventure

Going on an Architectural Adventure

Posted on by Kathryn Atkins

 

Just last week, we took off to Pasadena—a mere twenty-seven miles from home yet worlds apart. We go fairly often to appreciate the architecture whenever we get the chance, but our favorite season is the Heritage Weekend in October, when we tour the craftsman homes built by architects Greene and Greene between 1894 and 1922. Brothers Charles Sumner Greene and Charles Sumner Greene brought their degrees from MIT and apprenticeships from Boston to California to define a new style and a new word. “Bungalows” were not little shacks where Hollywood stars changed into their bathing clothes. No “Bungalows à la Greene and Greene were specific and of various sizes. In fact, the popular and famous Gamble House, completed in 1909 for David and Mary Gamble (of the Proctor and Gamble family), is an 8,000-square-foot home that is defined architecturally as a bungalow.

The Pasadena Showcase House of Design was built in 1902 and remodeled in 1922. At 7,300 square feet, it is slightly smaller than the Gamble house but in a totally different style now. The remodel was redesigned as a Tudor revival-style home, but architect Joseph J. Blick originally thought created it as a craftsman home for Gertrude Potter Daniels, who paid $15,000 to build it. It’s hard to believe!

Oh… that’s the bathtub in one of the redesigned rooms for the Showcase. It was amazing!

The Pasadena Showcase House for the Arts committee that sponsors the event contributes to arts and music nonprofits in Southern California and appreciates the 25,000 or so visitors to the Showcase every year. It’s a treat. You should go. It’s a fundraiser!

Information is here, and after 59 years of doing it, they have it down to a lovely and elegant science.

Enjoy!

What Music Am I Playing Today?

Posted on by Kathryn Atkins

My Piano Hands!

I play music as I pass through my day.

 Sometimes it’s harsh, and sometimes easy-breezy, hooray.

Each day it’s a choice to:

Curate the chords

Making majors from the minors.

Nurture each note and

Relaxing on the rests.

Dive into dissonance

Forcing fortes and frowns.

Invite

Pianissimos seeking peace,

Soft pedals pushed down.

Channel rock ‘n roll?

Relish Rachmaninoff!

  Meet Miranda or Mozart.

It’s a joy, it’s an art.

The best news is

The music I play.

Is totally mine,

To make my day my way.

 

 

How Long Have You Got?

Posted on by Death C. Chanel

It’s your friend Death here again for a friendly chat.

My team and I have been studying you humans for a long time. You. Are. Awesome. Really. We love to be working so closely with you and we know now why God created you all. You’re very entertaining. Never a dull moment with you guys. From inventions to families to wars to art and music, there is not much your kind hasn’t created. Truly. All of us in heaven love to see what each new day brings in the lives of our human friends.

We are mostly interested in the possibility that some of you are not maximizing your time on the Earth. But that begs the question:

How much time have you got? 

What if you only have a week? A month? A decade? What would you do with each of those? How could you ensure that you have fulfilled your purpose? Do you know what that is?

How much time have you got? 

Did you ever listen to a meditation on prioritization? @AndyPuddicombe’s Headspace app suggests that one way to prioritize is to imagine that this was your last day on earth. Is this the best use of your last day? He even says it sounds morbid. But it’s the truth. You do not know when your time is up. As I collect people’s souls and help them through from their mortal selves to their spiritual existence, many people lament their lack of accomplishment. “I ran out of time? Can I have a little more?” they ask. By the time I arrive, it’s too late.

How much time have you got? 

What if you knew? What would you do? Would you finish your symphony? Your painting? Your education? Be a dancer? Take the architecture course you always wanted to take? What? So, let’s say you can find out how much time you have. That won’t be done until the Deathlist is released from Heaven. It will be coming in the next few years. And. You. Will. Know.

What will you do with the time? And, will you believe it? Is the Deathlist right? Will it tell your exact death date? IF it’s wrong, (it’s not) you will have some extra time. If it’s right, you’ll feel like you should have believed it and done what God put you here to do. SO… long way of saying…

Make the most of the time while you’re here. Because for not, You don’t know how much time you’ve got. But you will soon.

Read The Deathlist, by my friend Kathryn Atkins, and you’ll know all about it.

 

 

 

Leave Room in Your Suitcase

Posted on by Kathryn Atkins
apple book break color
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

So, did you think this post was going to be about travel? Great. It is. But, it’s not.

Hopefully, we are all going somewhere. However, we are not always going on vacation. Or going out of town. Or going on a safari, per se. We are, however, traveling through life. We need to have our suitcase packed, our selves ready, open, and available to step, fly, jump, and fall forward into the next place. Our metaphorical bags should always be packed, as in why slow down to throw in a toothbrush when the next adventure may have toothbrushes waiting for you at the other end? Or better yet, we won’t need toothbrushes there at all. Our teeth will automatically be cleaned by busy nanobots grinning as they scrub, singing happy tunes, and making you happy to boot.

So while the suitcase should be ready to go, it should have room to add stuff. We want to leave space in the suitcase of our minds to put in cool new ideas, experience an image in a way we’ve never done so before, or taste a new aroma, or savor a different apple with a cool name like “Jazz” or “Envy.”

We save a spot for experimentation.  We can pause in the quietness to read an author we wouldn’t have tried without the clarity that white space in a suitcase brings. We can “hear” a not-my-usual color; “wear” a not-my-kind of music. (Not typos: Hear a color and wear music were on purpose.)

I invite you on your next journey to leave room in your suitcase. In fact, I will leave room in mine, too, and maybe we can meet in the middle.

 Always keep a bag packed!

“JOMO”

Posted on by Kathryn Atkins
yellow plush toy
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

You’ve heard of FOMO… Fear Of Missing Out. I just heard of “JOMO.”

JOMO = Joy Of Missing Out.

That means forgetting Facebook, turning off Twitter, and ignoring Instagram. And evading E-Mail for a block of uninterrupted time. Call it what you will, it’s a way to decrease our addiction to the 24/7/365 bombardment of noise and distraction simply because we’re afraid we won’t know what our neighbor knows. We’ll miss the client’s email or an agent’s answer. They can wait.

JOMO is about allowing ourselves the joy of being in the moment.

Jason Fried, co-founder of 37Signals and maker of Basecamp reads a newspaper now! In a recent interview with Tim Ferriss, Jason said that knowing what’s going on in the world once a day is enough. Imagine.

The universe will continue without our seeing and hearing what happens every minute of every day. We’ll have more time for meditating, writing, painting, making music, reading books and lots more. Let’s call it Anti-Social Media. How’s that for a new term?

Unplug and enjoy life!

Piano Hands

Posted on by Kathryn Atkins

Looking down, my hands are young.

Little nails. Little fingers.

Skipping on the keys.

Smooth, dainty skin.

I am six.

From farther up I’m looking down at my hands upon the keys.

Bigger reach, longer nails. A little polish

Dancing on the keys.

Taut, youthful skin.

I am sixteen.

Looking down, my hands are shopworn.

They play the music that comes through me.

My fingers waltz on the keys now.

Drying, aging skin.

I am fifty.

My gaze descends to my hands resting on the keys.

As I lift and lower, music emerges,

But alas, my fingers lumber on the keys.

Misshapen knuckles; veins popping blue.

I am seventy.

I look down upon my hands.

My fingers hover and shake,

Taking dry aim at the keys.

Gnarled, twisted, useless hands

I am too old.

They wheel me over. I bend toward the piano.

I hit a few notes with tentative strokes, and

I cry out in frustration. Then I remember.

I remember and I weep for the lovely melodies

That still skip in my heart.

* * * * * *

 I am pushing toward the seventies decade, and I have this lovely video of my son and me playing a duet! This is one melody that will skip in my heart for a long time. 

Note: The poem appeared in the California Writers Club 100th Anniversary Anthology called West Winds Centennial, published in 2010. The California Writers Club is a 501 (c)3 organization that was founded in 1909(!) by honorary members Jack London, George Sterling, Joaquin Miller and Ina Coolbrith.