Many of you have asked how things are progressing post-fire (house fire basic info page). I'm happy to report it feels as if personal and farm recovery finally is underway and the dream of a participatory arts center is not dead even though the main facilities burned August 2007. I've added to my small log cabin, as shown below, a 12 x 16 sun porch as home to the old grand piano I found in Chattanooga. It's a 1912 Steinway B 7' classic concert instrument ready to record waltz music with a decent little digital studio. The 1979 Steinway piano that burned was the beginning of all that happened here with some musical friends. And...we put the cabin's porch back on the north side with a used hot tub...added a foundation under the cabin. A small shed for the two Paso Fino horses will complete these basic additions. The 1998 motorhome now is replaced with a 2004 Gulfstream of the same 23-foot size, though gas prices make it not very useable except for local trips to the great parks around us; staying in it some on the hill top brings back the great mountain views and makes me wish for a new place in that spot. Who knows the future?
With these improvements life is getting more normal after the tragic fire. I'm practicing piano most days now and trying to learn to play the blues with a bit of help (now that I've lived the low, low, low down blues) as well as simple waltzes and the usual folk and classical pieces and with practice might play at retirement homes. And I'm enjoying more time to ride my Paso Fino mare, "Tango," and her buddy, "Polka," with friends on the mountain and park trails nearby.
Tango, aka Claranita del Azur, age 5
Pipsqueak, 6-year-old black Labrador--master of the farmThe other little 12 x 28 cabin, with a long table for writing workshops and and with fold-out sofa bed, is open for small groups. The writing workshops, which will replace the dance hall energy in the small, woods-surrounded cabin space, are planned for no more than 6-8 people at weekends. These writing sessions will follow in part the open, meditative, shared writing practices originated by Linda Metcalf and Tobin Simon, which they call "proprioceptive writing" (http://www.pwriting.org ). This rich work, which I first experienced at New York's Omega Institute in 1988, changed my life along with the Omega improv music workshops with David Darling of Music for People ( http://www.musicforpeople.org ). Both practices work well in small spaces and I hope to include the music workshops also if there is interest. Also in small spaces my new favorite, trance waltzing, works well. I may rebuild, or I should say "we," since dozens of dancers and friends built what we had, but more time is needed for this major decision. For now, my food brokerage business, hay farm, and festival book are taking available resources. Some steady editing is continuing on my festival book, "The Idea of Festival."
As I update these notes, I'm sitting in a 2004 Gulstream Conquest 24' motorhome, to replace the one that burned and much like it, on the house site and enjoying the view of the mountains and pastures all around. A Verizon USB phone modem is plugged into the MacBookPro laptop and is as fast as DSL here at the farm. So I'm really "mobile" now. Yet I have not given up on rebuilding something here with such a vista to inspire and energize.
You're welcome to come vist, camp, hike, visit, do farm chores, maybe start preparing for an organic garden, and be part of energy that bring back some of what went up in smoke and also be part of the spirit and vision that will endure.
Two Lexington, KY dancers sent me the same card with words that I'd like to share, showing a picture of the moon. With the simplicity of Japanese haiku by an ancient master, it read: "My barn burned. Now I can see the moon."
If you have stories and images of your Split Tree experiences, please send them for our coming "Split Tree Remembered" web page. And iPhoto album book to come. Later in the year I hope we can gather and share in various ways good memories and experiences in performance, print, and images.
Regards, Sid
...this
vintage 1912 Steinway B needs a name
La Valse,
circa 1890, by Camille Claudel
