One of the oddest venues I play is Lakeview Cemetery. It commands a spectacular view atop Seattle's Capitol Hill and contains graves of many Seattle pioneers. I give tours periodically in the character of Louisa Boren Denny. She introduces her guests to friends and family, walking through the city's history as well as our changing cultural expressions around death. This shot is courtesy of the kind folks at the Washington Athletic Club.
All I can say is I'm REALLY glad I've invested in a better wig.
It's the season of Dies de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead. May you enjoy quality time with some of your family who have passed over.
Lately I've been reading the writings of the Darwins: the bearded ferocity of Charles and his lesser-know wife, Emma. We apply his name to to any sharp competition (the most obvious being Athletic Darwinism -- a silly phrase), but when it came to his domestic habitat, CD was a pussycat, a constant invalid, whose dependence on Emma was quite complete. Their home life was devoted, warm, funny. I'm especially taken by the tale of the family assisting Charles as he researched the sensory powers of worms. Bernard provides the high notes of a whistle. Frank offers a bassoon's bass. Emma pounds the piano. Charles takes notes. And yet there was a significant rift. Charles was an agnostic, dedicated to the scepticism of scientific inquiry. Emma was a devout Christian. This was a source of much pain for them, especially in Emma's worry for his soul. Yet the partnership endured.
How did the Darwins find respect across the divide between science and faith? Why can't we? This year, I aim to explore the question in reading, looking at social models, playing in the studio, noticing my own relationships, and listening to the nudge of spirit.
Here's a link to a site with Darwin's worm monograph:
http://charles-darwin.classic-literature.co.uk/formation-of-vegetable-mould/And to a book which their daughter Henrietta wrote about Emma:
http://www.biodiversitylibrary.org/bibliography/1490