If we’re friends or if you look at my performance schedule (which probably means we ARE friends), you know that I’m about to enter my busiest time of the year. I am a lucky duck to have all these chances to do what I love best and also to share music with so many musicians I love and admire. I am blessed to be able to really celebrate this season of Irishness and to help other people feel included in it, blessed by it, uplifted by it. Lucky, lucky girl!
You might be surprised to learn, though, that I tend to get nervous at the start of all this bounty. I can engage in very crazy thinking on the cusp of such opportunity. If I’m not careful I can talk myself into feeling that I’m not up to the task, that I don’t have enough fresh repertoire, that I’ll get sick with all the driving and racing around, that there isn’t enough time to do things well, that I’ll disappoint listeners or myself… I could go on longer, but I’d rather not. These fears and nagging whispers are not what’s important.
What’s important is what I hope:
- I hope that the music, stories, and poetry I share help people feel that the beauty of the world belongs to them.
- I hope that my performances bring pleasure, respite, engagement, fun, and warmth to my audiences.
- I hope for moments of wit and levity, for moments of sweetness and warmth, for moments of imagination and the opening-up of possibility.
- I hope to feel, at the end of this little “tour,” that I have really celebrated the vitality of what I love: connection, inspiration, courage, humor, imagination, warmth, and a certain jauntiness that looks right into the face of fear or heartache and says,
“Be that as it may: here’s a little tune I invented for the occasion!”
