Editor's Letter (April 2016)

April 1, 2016



I watch the ripples change their size

But never leave the stream of warm impermanence So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same


Changes - David Bowie



   I’ve been thinking a lot about music lately: surrounded by it...enveloped, actually...reminding me of the influence and importance of every note. ...and the way music, and our lives, fit together.

   It courses through me on runs past houses, through neighborhoods, and among the hills of Fondren and my little village, the two main places of my life. It pours into me through the remembrances of recent artists lost who have been part of the soundtrack of my life: David Bowie and Glen Frey and George Martin. It awakens me in the opening of the incredible GRAMMY Museum Mississippi and the rich organic future it creates for both understanding and progressing music here in the Birthplace. And I know it overwhelms me in revelation, constantly, as a kaleidoscope, especially now in the constant and thrilling beat of Hamilton, a musical that just once heard is impossible to resist; believe me, you will never be satisfied...

   Beyond place and emotion, the flow of music carries the people of my life. As I have listened and listened, it has become quite clear to me that the same serenity I can find in my home or surrounded by the hues of nature or in the pulses of those most dear to me can be found in the notes and progressions and melodies of the music I have listened to from my first aural-aware moments. And who really knows when that first moment is? Where indeed is the first thread of the fabric?

   Life can sometimes be borne through rose-colored glasses, a creation not so much of its truth but of our embroidery. But music, as inspiration, inhabits a different place, an ineffable place, sensory and emotional, not ruled by time or even sensibility. It can attack or seduce. It can arrive in anticipation or quite by surprise. It can slap or beguile. Whatever, it moves us, somehow, someway, just as a giggle from a child or a nudge from a new puppy, or the view of something new, transcending. And each sound or touch or sight, depending on time and circumstance, can move us in so many directions.

We are all moving and influenced by what we encounter. As we move along, what we see and how we feel and where we end up is all in the influence of so many things, of control or not. Sometimes there is no guessing our response: it is pure reaction, instinctual. So, when touched by something indescribable, we must acknowledge the impossible. Sometimes we are caught off guard: even the best intentions might encounter a thoughtless response. So, when faced with someone who could care less, we must care more. Sometimes we are trapped by wonder: how in the world did that happen? So, when moved by wonder, we must embrace the sensational. What we know, at the last, is that all things are; and we, side by side or latticed, connected and crossed, are here now...and perhaps forever...







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Jackson, MS 39215

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