Honored that my friend Barbara McAfee agreed to help me with this greeting card project a few years ago. Her interpretation of the message of my song, “Where the Angels Live,” in this spoken word meditation (shared below) was a beautiful addition to the project and a gracious contribution on her part. She also helped me record the musical tracks for each of the three cards in the series, adding piano and harmonies that lifted my melodies and lyrics to their fullest. Deeply touched that she felt moved to write about our collaborative endeavor in this post.
Several years ago my friend Lucy Mathews Heegaard invited me to collaborate on an intriguing project: a series of greeting cards each with a music CD inside. The CD would contain one of Lucy’s songs, an instrumental version of the song, and a meditation on its theme. Our mutual friend, nature photographer Julie Marion Brown, would provide the image for the card’s cover.
These two women are among my favorite co-creators, so the answer was a resounding YES!
I was honored to write and record the meditation for “Where the Angels Live.” The song is a series of simple, powerful questions that illuminate the mysterious territories between living and dying.
You can hear Lucy and her daughter, Sarah, singing it here – along with many of Julie’s beautiful images. https://vimeo.com/58905906
Here is the meditation I created.
The countless blessings of your life are waiting for you to call them by…
In the winter of 1863, my great, great, great, great grandfather, David Mathews, left home to serve in the Civil War. He was 36 years old, not a wealthy man, and regretted having to leave his wife, children, and extended family as he felt his greatest responsibility was providing for them in the lean times the war had brought.
“No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.” — Hal Borland
Sitting on my front stoop in the early spring of 2009, I was playing my guitar on the first warm, sunny day of the season. Named “Little Girl,” my guitar is a far better instrument than I deserve. I had been sad when I discovered she had developed a long, narrow crack during the cold, dry months of winter, and I felt pretty negligent in tending to her properly. Read More