In the interest of getting to know who I am, I’m sharing stories from my life. I call them Preliminary Files and I hope you enjoy them.
We moved to a cabin in Le Grand, Oregon.
I was still tiny and my dad gave me a plastic guitar. He showed me how to slide butter knives along the strings to make a “different” sound. It was a horrible sound. I tried to love it, but neither of us could really.
The cabin was less than sound. There was space between the wall and the ceiling where you could see the outside.
That night the wind kicked up something fierce. The crack between the wall and the ceiling made the wind howl. I listened as I fell asleep and the wind became one of my best friends. The sound was simultaneously haunting and extraordinarily comforting. I fell asleep to its music.
(My Lesson: what might sound scary to some is comforting to others. And; you can hear the world breathe.)