Christmas is coming early this year for me, as I was the recipient of some generous gifts by fellow bloggers yesterday. I’ve only been blogging here since September, so I am deeply touched and grateful for these gestures. Today also marks my twentieth post and the 2000th view of my blog.
First, the postman delivered a Read more!
Winter, an artist’s sketch in charcoal, so clearly etched against a cloud filled sky. . .
In celebration of the moment when the earth turns on its axis back to the light of the sun. This year, in the northern hemisphere, the winter solstice occurs on December 22. Time and Date offers a clear explanation of the solstice as well as explores the customs and traditions around it. To see a beautiful collection of “brown and gray and sometimes white” nature photography, explore Robin’s post on frosted Queen Ann’s Lace in Life in the Bogs.
“Winter” was one of those songs written in a moment, in a winter where snow alternated with grey skies and brown earth. This recording is a “first take” for both the piano and vocal. The visuals are all from my garden. Enjoy!
All music making is collaborative in nature. A special thanks to Barbara Nissman for contributing her master’s touch on the piano to this song and Mike Tomaro for his haunting soprano sax improvisations. And as always, to my gifted husband Bill Purse, who generously shares his skills as audio engineer and producer in my artistic endeavors.
Winter, ©2009 Lynn Emberg Purse All RIghts Reserved
Winter, snow falling down
Winter, the world is gray and brown, gray and brown and sometimes white
for a night and a day, then all is gray
Autumn in leaves of gold
Springtime, a thousand shades of green unfold to summer
with its joyous Joseph’s Coat of colors, endless colors, endless colors . . .
Winter, an artist’s sketch in charcoal
so clearly etched against a cloud filled sky
Subtle and dark, lovely and stark in gentle tones of gray
and brown and sometimes white
for a night and a day, then all turns gray
Winter today
Soft clouds, soft snow, soft browns, whites and grays
Winter today
Text and media of “A Song for the Winter Solstice” ©2011 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved. Please do not reblog.
We have long considered creating an online musical Christmas card instead of sending paper cards and Christmas letters; this is the year that it happens. “Father Christmas” was composed from a dream that my husband had of his father. Bill handed me the text and music for the chorus, I completed the text and music for the verses and bridge and scored it for keyboards and percussion. Our friend Judy joined us to record it for the “Christmas at Duquesne, Vol. 2” CD. Now we would like to share the video version with our friends and families as our Christmas greeting this year. May the blessings of love and peace be with you throughout the coming year. Enjoy!
Father Christmas Lyrics
©2008 Lynn & Bill Purse, All rights reserved
Father Christmas, Father Time
Mother Earth in ancient rhyme
Help the angels sing your name
I’ll see you Father, once again
Christmas seen through childish eyes
Glitter gold and treasures prized,
and yet around each childish heart
the warmth of love and family start
A world of sorrow, a world of pain,
a world in which there seems no gain.
But nonetheless, remember this,
a world was won by a child of grace
Looking back on memories, I see the joy of family
A father’s love, a mother’s joy for all their children, girl and boy
Fathers, mothers, listen now
Sisters, brothers, make this vow
to love each other on this earth
and share the bonds of love and mirth
Lynn Emberg Purse, vocals and keyboards; Bill Purse, vocals and percussion, sound engineer and producer; Judith Bowman, keyboards. A special thanks to my niece and great niece Jessica and Olivia and to my mother and my husband for allowing me to film them, and to Michael for providing the red rose.
Soundtrack on the “Christmas at Duquesne, Vol. 2” CD available at the Duquesne University’s Mary Pappert School of Music, 412-396-6080. All proceeds go towards scholarships for Duquesne University music students.
Another Christmas music post that you may enjoy – Keeping Christmas
Text and media of “Father Christmas: A Musical Christmas Card” ©2011 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved
This year, the garden seems to go on and on. Here is a little tour of flowers, fruit and foliage filling the garden on November 11. Even as the leaves fall, next year’s growth appears.
More next time, after this week’s big concert.
Text and media of “Garden 11/11/11” ©2011 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved
I stood on a hill in Dunoon, Scotland, in the middle of March many years ago. Powerful winds brought a succession of rain, sleet, snow, hail, and sunshine over and over again in the course of an hour – a microcosm of the turbulent transition from one season to another. The change of seasons this week in Western Pennsylvania was less compressed – spread over days rather than minutes – but otherwise not so different. The week began with a warm evening on the deck, listening to what surely would be the final cicada and frog chorus of the season. Gusty winds brought cold temperatures and days of rain, followed by an enchantingly beautiful misty morning immediately followed by a snowy morning, all in less than a week.
Though I’m reluctant to acknowledge the end of the gardening season and the coming of winter, I must admit that I love the turbulent changes that the seasons’ transitions bring. There is a certain security in knowing that one season will follow another, an overarching stability of structure. But the passage from one state to another is filled with chaos, unpredictability and extreme fluctuations. It is this push pull of change and stability that fascinates me, and it seems to be at the heart of my artistic endeavors as well. Achieving a balance between the familiar and the novel, the security of what has been done and the adventure of exploring new ideas, is an ongoing dynamic in my work, and perhaps in my life as well.
A video celebration of nature’s transitions in my garden, set to the music of “Falling” from “Three States of Being.”
Here’s another take on the idea of transitions as passages, courtesy of Margie Strosser.
All text and images of “Turbulent Transitions” ©2011 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved
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