In 2002, the year I got married, my husband, Karl, and I decided to make a CD as a wedding-gift for our family and friends. We worked with Dan Turcotte of Mesmer Media Productions Ltd., and recorded Dance In The Rain, again in the span of two weeks. The overall feel of my second CD is one of reflection and exploration, an attempt to explain myself through my own eyes to the world.

There were a lot of difficulties for me with this one. I had to play into a MIDI recorder to a metronome, with a piano VST applied to it afterwards, and then the notes were all quantized. Unfortunately, the use of the sustain pedal was recorded but couldn't be quantized, so it ends up sounding quite muddy. Had this been a proper CD project, I have no doubt we would have re-recorded everything and Dan would have done a great job polishing it off.

It was a great learning experience. I learned first and foremost to never quantize another note for as long as I live. It takes all the natural presence out of the piano playing and makes it sound artificial and rigid. For this reason, most of this CD is not available below. Maybe one day I'll give them a facelift and re-present them to the world.

We rarely live up to the ideals of others. While I know this, and recognize the debilitating futility inherent in the attempt, every now and then I find myself falling into that familiar trap once again, trying to be who I'm not happy being for the benefit of someone else. You can only cover your tracks for so long before you get tired, but it takes courage to quit trying.

I push through the crowd but it gets hard to breathe
As I cough someone hands me a mask
And all I can think to myself as I’m walking on is
The truth about you is fish can’t really fly

Chorus:
This is a song for the misunderstood
For the doctor who’s wilting inside
And the putz in the corner with healing in his hands
There’s an attic of cobwebs and dreams inside

Look in the closet it’s full of high-heeled shoes
And the fishnets are under the bed
What would they think of you if you let it all out?
How do you hide the glint in your eyes?

Isn’t it clear that I see right through you?
Stop trying to sell me that tough love campaign
You think if you’re stealthy I won’t feel you coming
It’s not up to you to bend my path

Chorus

I pick up sticks and I sleep under trees
If you worship the sun you must be insane
We all know lunacy comes under the light of the moon
I’m tired of making you feel comfortable

Chorus

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I wrote this October 11, one month after the planes crashed into the towers in New York City. The sentiment may sound clichéd by now, but I had a nasty feeling that something had been born in that particular American governmental regime that would not soon be put to rest. I remember voicing this concern and being met with skepticism.

I know I’m in trouble
The room’s closing in
There’s frost on the petals
And leaves on the wind
Children are laughing
They dance in the rain
With limited perception
Here we go again

Chorus:
The white horse-drawn chariot is full of armed men
Just shut your eyes darling, it’s only pretend
And they’ll fly far away to a land that’s diseased
And they’ll fly away home when they’ve brought it to peace

Play me a tune, Sam
That soothes me to sleep
I’ll pull up the covers
And not make a peep
And if when I wake
You have wandered away
I’ll know that you never
Intended to stay

Chorus

What time is it, Mister Wolf?
What have you brought us to?
Timing is everything
And bad dreams come true

Chorus

And they’ll fly away home
When they’ve brought it to its knees
Aye, aye, aye

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One of those come-and-find-me songs.

If you ever go walking out on the ocean
And you see a girl there in a billowing cloak
With her hair all around her and waves in her footprints
Her voice on the wind and the sea in her eyes

You’ll have found where I live
Where my soul sails the ocean
You’ll have found where I live
With the storm clouds above me
You’ll have found where I live
Though you may not understand me
You’ll have found where I live
Where I sing with the wind

If you ever go walking up on the cliff tops
And you see a girl there in a velvet green dress
With the long grass around her and hair full of flowers
Her voice on the wind and the earth in her eyes

You’ll have found where I live
Where my soul sails the meadow
You’ll have found where I live
With the dawn clouds above me
You’ll have found where I live
Though you may not understand me
You’ll have found where I live
Where I sing with the wind

If you ever go walking deep in the forest
And you see a girl there among trees old and sweet
With the fruit, nuts and berries in piles all around her
Her voice on the wind and the wild in her eyes

You’ll have found where I live
Where my soul sails the treetops
You’ll have found where I live
As the dusk settles o’er me
You’ll have found where I live
Though you may not understand me
You’ll have found where I live
Where I sing with the wind

If you ever go walking ‘round bright fires burning
And you see a girl there draped in orange and red
As the embers are popping she dances in circles
Her voice on the wind and the sparks in her eyes

You’ll have found where I live
Where my soul sails and rises
You’ll have found where I live
With the smoke clouds above me
You’ll have found where I live
Though you may not understand me
You’ll have found where I live
Where I sing with the wind

If you ever go walking along rocky shorelines
And you see a girl there with her feet bare and white
And the calm waves are lapping her steps as she wanders
Her voice on the wind and a smile in her eyes

You’ll have found where I live
Where my soul sails the border
You’ll have found where I live
With the bright clouds above me
You’ll have found where I live
Though you may not understand me
You’ll have found where I live
Where I sing with the wind

You’ll have found where I live
Where the light sails above you
You’ll have found where I live
Where the mist swirls around you
You’ll have found where I live
Though you may not understand it
You’ll have found where I live
Where I sing with the wind

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Sometimes a person can affect you so deeply that it seems ludicrous that you might ever come to a time in your life where you stop thinking about him. But as we all should know by now, to everything there is a season, even rage and turmoil, forgiveness and forgetfulness.

There’s a dance and it plays me, it spins in my head
Through your eyes I can see the sparks fly
I can keep myself tumbling, I’m almost awake
It’s a shame that you’ve come here to die

Chorus:
The ivy reddens with your shame
And you think it’s just a game
The ivy twines around your arm
As it sucks away your charm
And before you sink away
And your body turns to clay
I remember how you tried
To kill the girl I am inside

There’s a well where I sit and it’s shrouded in vines
There’s a path but it’s hidden from you
Like moss between flagstones, like lava in the sea
I will heal all the places you knew

Chorus

Snow falls in my footsteps and blankets my eyes
The wind brings the rain as it sighs

Chorus

And I smile

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Inspired by my childhood minister, who one Sunday taught a lesson condemning the fools who watch the sky in anticipation of their saviour's return to the detriment of all other aspects of their lives. I had this image of people standing on the beach, frozen in time, gazing upward, while all of these fantastical creatures swirled around them unseen. I wanted to point out the difference between those who are afraid to live because they might miss enlightenment, and those who pursue it by living, firmly grounded in individual faith.

Once there were castles built into the stone
Undaunted challengers connected to the same stone
And the skirmishes between them did not matter, could not change them
‘Cause they were rooted firmly in the ground

But the ground grew soft and they grew weary
And they hauled the anchor in and set sail
But they found no wind in the middle of the ocean
So they are drifting, they are drifting still

Every now and then an island passes by
Every now and then someone jumps off
Every now and then a false alarm is sounded
Every now and then someone cries

One day they ran aground on a foreign shore
They were surrounded by people waiting
They were waiting for fire from the sky
They were waiting for the world to end, the dove to descend

Chorus:
He had not come and they were wondering
He had not come to end their suffering
He had not come to give them their wings
He had not come and they were drifting

What once had been a functioning society
Had rusted, broken down, was ripping at the seams
They had abandoned their happiness, their joy of living
They had relinquished their humanity to stand there waiting

Chorus

As the sailor stood there he felt a fish swim by
He looked and saw the waves engulfing the edge of the shore
And all around him flew fantastical creatures
What made them long for all this fire from the sky?

They were looking for miracles in a cloud of smoke
They wanted slavery with a tangible master
What’s wrong with living now? the sailor asked the herds of people
But if we close our eyes we might miss his entrance

The sailor shook his head and he went back to his ship
We’re heading home to our castles in the stone
We thought our faith had become idle and listless
And as they sailed away the people sighed

They went back to their castles built into the stone
They had foundations delving deep into the land
We thought we needed to escape the lives that we’d been living
They jumped into the waves and ran to kiss the sand

Chorus:
He has not come and they are wondering
He has not come to end their suffering
He has not come to give them their wings
He has not come and they are drifting

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An instrumental piece.

One day I was travelling on the subway and I met an Irish man whose name was Donal, fit as a fiddle and in his 70s, standing beside his bike. We struck up a conversation and he told me he had just returned from a biking trip in Ireland, and I told him I was in the Celtic Studies program at UofT. We started talking about Yeats and I admitted I couldn't quote any of his poems by heart.

Donal looked at me for a moment, and then recited 'The Song of Wandering Aengus,' looking straight in my eyes as though the words were coming from his own heart. I was hooked, and being the charmer that he was, he promptly proposed marriage and laughingly hoped his wife wouldn't mind. One man nearby, in his early 40s, watched this story unfold with increasing bafflement. The only thing he could think to add was, "You can tell all your friends you were hit on by an old man today." Cretin.

Donal's eyes sparkled. What I remember most about him is his passion for the poetry, how he breathed it in and poured it out. He made more of an impression on me in a moment than a hundred men like the Onlooker could in a lifetime. In a way I have become like the man in the poem, ever looking for the spirit I happened upon that day, knowing that should we meet again we would instantly recognize in the other a kindred soul.

I went out to the hazel wood
Because a fire was in my head
And cut and peeled a hazel wand
And hooked a berry to a thread
And when white moths were on the wing
And moth-like stars were flickering out
I dropped the berry in the stream
And caught a little silver trout

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame
But something rustled on the floor
And someone called me by my name
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded in the brightening air

Though I am old and wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands
I will find out where she has gone
And kiss her lips and take her hands
And walk among long dappled grass
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon
The golden apples of the sun

Poem by W.B. Yeats

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A metaphor.

I came upon an empty box
Or so I thought, or so I thought
Its age suggested emptiness
But something made me pause

It looked abandoned, brown and small
Or so it seemed, or so it seemed
And if I hadn’t glanced that way
I would have missed its form

It wasn’t screaming, buy me now!
So quietly it lay near me
I even thought I saw it move
And try to hide deliberately

An orange peel lay on its lid
And coffee grounds and garbage mounds
It seemed to say I’m ugly, see?
I’m hard to get to, walk away

Yet in that moment, staring down
As crowds walk by and pigeons fly
The dog that’s chewing at my soul
Perks up his ears: at last, he sighs

I stooped to touch the box I’d found
I had to see, I had to see
I gripped the lid and lifted up
And looked inside at nothing

I placed the lid back on the box
I laughed aloud, I laughed aloud
Since I found peace inside that box
Where others have found nothing

As I walked along the street
The passing crowds with open mouths
All melt away like mist and spray
Beneath the omnipresent sun

I came upon an empty mind
Or so I thought, or so I thought
Its age suggested emptiness
My own thoughts made me pause

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When we were planning our wedding, everyone wanted to offer us advice based on their experiences. In the end, you do it your own way and you're happy or you don't and you're not. We went with the former, everyone acquiesced, and we had a lovely time.

Chorus:
We know it’s not about the day
We know that nothing has to break
We know there’s more to life than watching jet planes
We know there’s more to this than fire

And everywhere we hear the snap of someone else’s ring bands
And everywhere we go there seems to be another hole
We’re tired of the mess that no one seems to want to clean up
We’re tired of the time it takes to point out every star

We know it’s not about the reign
We know that no one has to fake it
We know there’s more to life than living softly
We know there’s more to this than wings

And every time we feel the snap of someone’s disapproval
And everywhere we go there seems to be another tear
We’re tired of the fuss and no one seems to want to end it
We’re tired of the time it takes to tell you who we are

We know it’s not about the ring
We know that no one has to drink
We know there’s more to life than drifting silence
We know there’s more to this than gold

Chorus

We know there’s more to this than wings
We know there’s more to this than gold
We know there’s more to this than fire
We know it’s not about the day

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One of the songs that has been with me the longest. I feel as though I touched down upon the golden web of my life in the wrong moment one day, perceived myself at an unfamiliar point, even many points at once, and heard these words and the truth of them ringing throughout myself, from infant to elder. I feel as though I heard this song at my birth, and it will be the song I hear on the day I die.

Have you ever seen perfection?
Personified, crystallized
The Truth in a grain of sand

And I can trace the lines that run across my fading skin
And I can feel the magic in the visions in my dreams
And I can touch the floating hands above me when I sleep
And I can sing the secret songs, I’ve known them since my birth

Have you ever seen?

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