David Feder: Center for Peace

No Idea where it all leads..(yes I'm up late again)
And that's part of the point I guess.
Musically speaking there are so many directions, infinite possibilities really of expressing the song of being. Not just love, life, death or the content of any moment, past, present, or future.
When the question is asked about musical, artistic, creative goals, I really have no master plan other than to keep learning what appeals to me at the moment, deep down inside, trusting the universe to offer me the elements I need, when I need them, to help express the infinite in my own little way. Sometimes it seems that it's the hardest way because the information can be so apparently disparate if I do the unthinkable, and try to think about it. Thinking is a tool that is for me very unmusical. Although I love to think occasionally for sport.
Sometimes the path is so unclear that it is hard to rally and work for months on a tiny bit of technique, harmony, or other concept that in clock time may only last seconds. And more often than not, whatever "it" is has nothing even to do with picking up an instrument at all.
Could be just a vague feeling of a door opening with a message, and allowing that spark to be absorbed and integrated into my own limited understanding.
When I remind my self to accept that I, as a human being, will never be able to comprehend much beyond the limits of my senses, I relax a bit and go back to work, remembering that comprehension of the infinite is not necessary for sharing and enjoying it with others. And this universe, of which we are all expressions, has it's own beauty, grace and wisdom. Joy for me is accepting that rich unknowable harmony unconditionally, without judgment, attachment or resistance.
Tonight while working on yet a another tiny piece of the grand puzzle, it hit me again that whenever I play alone, with one person, twenty people at a bar, a full concert hall, whatever, the musical image is always dynamic, guided somehow by the joy of that present. So musically my goal may be to always become a better conduit to share this Joy more fully with you.

Love Dave
Hillbillyflamenco.com


PS Micah is filling in for me at the Turtle Friday, go see him, it will be fun!
New video is in production....really cool.
ITMO, Micah, in studio.....going to bed now.

You can get there from here.

Cape Cod in the summer? Why did the Keys Boy drive 1700 miles to go to the hot beach and hide from the sun? Why indeed? The family that cooks together......

I’ll be back at the Turtle on the 28. And back in the studio to begin recording the new CD this Monday. It’s always good to purge the creative channels with a good road trip. The songs on this new CD are mostly vocal, kind of like the format of “The Reason Why” but with fewer vampires and more live jamming. Some of the players don’t even know yet that they will be included in the creative process. In this project, we are arranging the sessions by blood type and astrological signs. And the emphasis is on Karmic baksheesh and holding the immoral high ground. How interesting! Says Suzi, with a little sly laugh. See y’all when we get back. Thanks to Wood, Cindy, and Tracy for pet sitting and Samson for playtime.

   Road ragas. What we (re) learned in Cape Cod:

We love the Cape but........ Never order fish at a lobster restaurant. Fish and chips are better in Buffalo. Never wait for a Cape Codian to make a decision in traffic. North is not necessarily north. Salt and vinegar Chips always taste better at the beach. Never try to drive to the Cape from Philly on a Saturday. No dogs allowed is a relative statement sometimes dependent on size and stealth. Wednesday always follows Tuesday and Thursday always comes next, Suzi. Occasionally, downhill and to the right is actually uphill and to the left, veering right. There is no sea glass to be had at Nauset beach. However, morning walks on the beach will fortify the soul. Three pots of coffee are never enough. Beaches here go on and on and have sand! Stinky cheese tastes better on holidays.

   Two Christopher Moore books are not sufficient for a five-day vacation. However Shantaram is. There are very good wines available here on the Cape and you don’t have to schlep them from home. Hampton inns have very cozy sheets, and are worth the extra dough. When asking for cutseys in traffic, in Newport, never refer to the other driver as “old Lady”. Settlers of Katan can be avoided if you just don’t make eye contact. “Old Hag,please... can you tell me who owns that Mercedes?”

   Nyan the DJ spins the Prog and Zappa and Z administers snuggles. And the old Dodge Caravan made it here and averaged 22 mpg, and consumed 1/4 quart of oil. Not bad with 160k miles on her. We did blow out a tire in a bad tire changing location, (second one of the week) on the highway, passenger side rear, barley off the left shoulder, just outside of Jacksonville, 20wt territory. I could hear the drums. It’s pretty unnerving changing a flat with cars whizzing by not two feet away. But I got the roadside pit stop time down to eight minutes. We ended up replacing all the tires for peace of mind, although the others looked ok. The tire repair stop total time was I hour. Not bad. In Philadelphia, our first stop, they don’t make the streets wide enough for actual cars to drive on. Still thinking à pied or horse & buggy. Luckily, I found a nice livery house to board the mules. Sister Jesteroo, and brother Aris have two new cats Phiona and Dexter. Little Z made friends quickly. On the way to the Cape we stopped in Mystic, CT, and Newport, RI. I think that’s the first time I actually drove into Newport. It’s way different then sailing in. Both towns are way cool but Mystic still has some sanity and less tourists. Oh yea and it’s Mystical. Newport does however have amazing food. We are off in the morning, realizing that MapQuest sucks and trying the GPS talking lady who lives in the Blackberry. We do have maps if all else fails. Luckily it’s downhill all the way, right?

Love Dave

Breathing....... more than you want.
Sometimes our bodies become tight. Our minds are tight; thoughts are
rigid, without flow. This is both a symptom and a cause of dis-ease
and pain.
All of us hold on to images, feelings, and judgments we created at
one time or another to help explain who we were to ourselves. But we
are not our past. We are not our thoughts. We are not our images, no
matter where they came from.
Although past is already gone, for some reason, our bodies tend
to cling to it's memory, in our muscles, and our nerves, compelling
us experience it all again and again, like a scar that reminds us of
a fight.
When we breathe more than we want to, and force our bodies to
inhale past the tension, past the thoughts and images, we purge the
spirit of that past. We forgive all, and end the self-inflicted
punishment. And so, with each breath, we enter a new world of endless
possibilities.

So...whatever it is...whatever it was...breathe past it and wash
it away. You can have it back later if you need it. But for right
now, breathe in more than you want to. Hold it and savor the newness
and beauty of one single, long, deep breath. Then have another. With
every breath we are living a new life, we are reborn, tabula rasa.
Sometimes friends need a good hug. I'm not talking about the one
shoulder socially correct hug, but full on heart to heart. Sometimes
a good hug can help us remember to relax and breathe. We remind each
other of the healing love and beauty in each of us that is always
available.
Heal by example. Hug your friends and take a great big long, deep
belly breath. Its good for everyone.
Love
David