The song.  Unaffected. Opens like spring.  Formed from vines grasping at the answer to words.  Rhythms without explanations.  A sense of beauty, full of individual reason.  A flag of intention.  A banner to gather voices rising for the occasion. Full verses.  Empty hearts. A recipe of melancholy. Winds ebb in favor of voices.  Hands raised.  … More STAGE LEFT


Separate hands.  Divided tracks expressing the battle within.  Musical fingers, the dance of a tapping theory. Deep roots of song flush to the surface; a dilation is then quick to expand.   Drums beating out thoughts pause then continue, marking paths to an immediate change; the impertinence of youth is an undeniable salve.   Dancers … More OPENING NIGHT


How deep are your songs? Do they champion the cause you carry?   Inside is a passion. The reason for sunlight. The delight of morning to wake you.   The day is generous; it’s an empty sack Waiting to be filled.   The hope in your breath is the meadowlark waiting to release the music. … More CURTAIN RISING