I’ve recently returned from a residency at the Atlantic Center for the Arts. Three weeks in the mostly pleasant heat surrounded by lizards, snakes, poets, mosquitoes, visual artists, armadillos, and musicians…

I’m back in Seattle now, sitting at a cafe, listening to the Bach harpsichord partitas. After being back for a week I’ve had a little time to reflect on my experience. Aside from having a new appreciation for Bach, (and the flute) the first thing that comes to mind is gratitude. I’m so grateful for the opportunity to watch artists from around the world engage in their art. I feel lucky to have been selected. I also miss my new friends…

I’m struggling with the many questions that come up when going through an experience like this, many of which will be with me for a long time, I’m sure. Particularly interesting is meaning in my own work. Watching the poets and visual artists work was very revealing in that each artist started a work, or piece, or poem with something that meant something to them. A thought or feeling or event or image. I often feel like I’m trying to spin music out of thin air. Where is my connection to it? What connection or need do I have to begin. Sure I created it but it seems so much easier to start from something that has meaning to me already. The poet can use a feeling, love, tragedy, anger, sadness. The painter can start with a picture, a photo of their child, something they are attached to. The composer?

More soon as I learn how to post pictures, music and more.