Sparks from the Fire

What a strange thing it is that we do. Singing. To organize our thoughts and sentences into structured rhythms. To further organize the words and syllables into predetermined pitches on top of those rhythms and then sometimes hold those syllables and pitches to inordinate degrees. I’ve always felt that it is an odd method of human communication.

Animals do a form of it as well. They howl, they roar, they moan. And each of these moments in time expresses deeply their primitive feelings. We sometimes mimic them in their feelings.

As a song writer, I have often thought deeply about this strange expression of human emotion and communication called singing. In the musical theater I was taught that when the emotion of the moment becomes so high that dialogue can no longer handle it, it is then that a song is born, that the character moves into singing because mere words just do not suffice. When this happens naturally, the audience easily accepts the stylistic evolving into music and song.
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Nancy Morris with Bobby Stanton

I’m sitting here in my easy chair, Mac in my lap, hot chocolate in my cup, drifting along to the Inspirational sounds of Nancy Morris’ new CD, My Favorite Hymns. This was one rough day. Lately it just seems like an inordinate number of close friends have been called to move on.

Perhaps she was needed elsewhere

Perhaps wherever elsewhere is

They’ve got their troubles too

Perhaps that mighty spirit

Just joined Mindy and John

Yeah that’s why they’re gone

They were needed elsewhere*

Perplexing, this life. Jill, Suzanne, Chucky, Don, — all great friends, gone, but not forgotten.

So I sit here and simply remember. But the phone rings, the sirens wail, the pressures of tomorrow loom and I just can’t wrap my mind around it all. So I put on some music — Nancy Morris’ new CD, My Favorite Hymns – to be specific. And the world goes away. The images of meaningful lives pass through my consciousness and the music takes me to the heart.

Hymns. Amazing, simple, evocative hymnsongs. What could be sweeter? At this moment, nothing. I don’t get a chance to slow down very often, but this moment, right here and now, I’m in my right place – because of the music.

Ahhhh, there’s my friend Bobby Stanton on guitar adding his magic – no words, just pure music and simple straightforward classic hymns. And Jill, Suzanne, Chucky and Don are here with me smiling and laughing and singin’ along.

Thank you, Nancy.

*From: Needed Elsewhere, Lyric by Peter Link