Inspiration Archive
Inspirations and Expressions!
The Vulture And The Rainbow
Monday, April 20th, 2009Last Friday, the three of us where going swimming in Kamus, a small town east of Salt Lake and while driving I said “let’s go to Wyoming.” I thought it would be fun and we could also get some good beer. Steven was all for it. So we kept going East, then North, up to Evanston. It was a boring drive and I started thinking-this isn’t better than swimming, it’s windy, nothings around, what are we doing? I suggested we might turn around. Steven reminded me that I suggested it and to see it through. Yes. Great advice. I thought I do this in my own life, I have a great idea and I start it, but it loses momentum and I get bored. If I can just get through the boredom, there is magic and wonder in the world.
While driving a loop back to Salt Lake, we enter a town that has a huge playground. We stop off because Ronan wants to play. Oh! This place is great. It had discontinued playground sets that were really fun. We all got on that metal merry go round that goes way to fast. Ronan loved it. The sets were made of wood and steel and a little plastic. The swing set was extra tall so you can really fly. It was a playground where the parents can play too.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a golden eagle. I see them all the time, just not twenty yards away. Looking up, I notice thirty of them at least, nesting in the tops of huge cottonwoods. I run over, take pics, and realize these are turkey vultures. They are really awesome and slightly more daunting than goldens. Steven joked that no wonder there were no kids in the park. They don’t attack humans do they? No, probably not. But when they started circling over head, he suggested we move on.
In the same park there was a pin for rodeo’s, and some horses. We watched some cowboys rope steer. It was a pleasure to watch these folks. They looked as comfortable with a lasso as they did with a smile, easy. They loved their small town, huge life. They have it good, fresh air, and wild-life all around. We said our goodbyes and drove off only to be met with the most beautiful rainbow I have ever seen. That’s what I get for seeing an idea/experience through, two big fat juicy rainbows. Oh I love metaphors, these ones bring tears to my eyes. Steven asked, “Can you cry and smile at the same time?” “Yes, Steven, I can”.
Thursday April 2nd at the Tin Angel Cafe
Saturday, March 28th, 2009Live looping—acoustic guitar and crazy jazz vocals—soft, sultry sounds of artsy music-see and hear it Thursday April 2nd, from 7-9pm.
This is the core of my music—exciting, jazzy, rich sounds in wealthy scape’s of lyrical aptitude. Please attend and be prepared to be inspired by the ambiance, the art, dishes of edible delights, fantastic hosts, and fine music! Experience it.
the tin angel is located at 365 W 400 S
Salt Lake City, UT 84101
(801) 328-4155
Reservations are recommended for all my shows.
Stay “tuned” for my newest song and article. Subscribe to my articles and be the first to get them.
-Shannon
Inspirational Improv-My Process
Monday, January 26th, 2009The music I compose is deeply rooted in my experiences and also extremely improvisational. When asked what I do, I say—
Extreme musical improv, and you?
I ran into Mr. Avery at Big Ed’s, a local diner; he popped his head in, sat down with his friend, commented how big my son Ronan was getting, and began to fill us in about how grad school was going. He told me that in his communication class they discussed how every human interaction was improv. I thought that’s it! That is: I converse musically in an improvisational way.
I don’t write sheet music; it’s all by ear. I read and play jazz music and I think I enjoy the essence of the unknown in music. So essentially I memorize my stuff, and it’s complex because of all the layering I do. When I perform, I know the basic premise of the tune, but the rest I make up on the spot. I wouldn’t have any other way. The process keeps my mind alive.
I just recorded a song called
I listened to it and realized that I’m sniffing again—sniffing out rhythms. I’ve been doing it since I was a child. Using my breath as a staccato metronome, I sniff the beat. I make up rhythms using my nose by puffing my breath though it. If you listen carefully to the baseline, you can hear it.
Extraordinary Inspiration
Tuesday, December 2nd, 2008I experienced a fantastic performance on Black Friday. At the Tin Angel, I played my new song called Extraordinary. And the evening was extraordinary. Some friends attended the performance and shared their insight and inspiration.
The first line goes:
It’s the extraordinary that I find in the ordinary
One of the offered insights was that this song was directly correlated with the artist experience. Artists find the extraordinary in the ordinary.
Essentially an artist observes life and discovers it’s nature through their own direct experience with it. For example Da Vinci watched water in a stream, trying intently to capture what the movement of liquid looks like on a static page, amist discovering the water’s nature and disposition. Art comes out of observing and experiencing life and our own interpretation of it.
I paint with sound. I use a technique called looping. And like water in a stream, I discovered the nature of looping and layering my own voice. I added sound where it needed more color and body, and I also limited sound to add variety and simplicity.
The Scabbard At My Side
Monday, October 20th, 2008
Harvesting Wrath
Fall harvests something in me—warrior-ship. I trained hard for six months. And I have been training Fitness and Tai Chi for over two years, with a small community of warriors. I train with my partner and instructor Steven Smith, World Tai Chi Boxing Association Instructor.
I stood in a check-out line at Big Lots. I chatted with a lovely, yet sprightly Great-Grandma. She carried two items to purchase. She enchanted my son Ronan with tricks of her trade, she clicked her tongue, smiled and tried to grab his hand. Ronan bashfully declined the hand grab. She told me that she had three Great-Grandchildren.
The person ahead of her finished and before we knew it—a middle aged frizzy-haired, thin and slightly stooped guy hissed to his companion, a younger, friendly looking woman, hurry up and cut in line. She was old enough to know better. The man wedged a cart, stocked full and brimming, in front of Great-Grandma. Wow! (Wrath.)