October 29, 2000

Dear Readers,

Boy! Was this article hard to write! I saw Bill Miller live in Santa Barbara on Friday, Oct. 27th. Spent all day the 28th trying to write about it. Wrote lots. Output is not a problem for me. Words spout from me like a fountain. The problem is deciding which ones to keep. I got into writing and could not stop. Come evening, I bundled up the whole mess to e-mail to my daughter in college. She could fix it! That's why we pay tuition! I checked my e-mail and found a message from Debra Haza of Indiana. Debra said that she enjoys what I write about Bill. She asked how the concert was. Was I going to write something about it? Wow! What a boost! THANK YOU, DEBRA!

I woke up this morning energized and clear headed. Full of more ideas! No! I need clear ideas! Organized ideas! Not more ideas! Something in me said, "JUST WRITE IT!" So I am.

Debra: Know that the funny photos and Halloween theme are there because of your encouragement!

THE OWNERS OF PERUVIAN PASO HORSES ARE A FUN LOVING LOT.
NOT A STUFFED SHIRT AMONG US!
Spurs Magazine is produced on a Peruvian Paso ranch in Santa Ynez, CA.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

The first time I saw Bill Miller live was just over two years ago. By purest happenstance, my second "visit with Bill" occurs at almost the same time of year-- Halloween. Hence the title of this piece: Halloween II. Halloween I was a fun, somewhat spooky exploration of synchronicity-- the coming together of unrelated events in a personally meaningful way. I realized something at Bill Miller's' concert. Something about his impact, his art. And a successful life: They're about telling one's truth. And taking the consequences.

We are both cogs of the universe, and its creators.

That's where telling the truth comes in. It's one of things that moves the universe from where it is to where it wants to go. I think that Bill Miller is very close to the pulse of the cosmic heart-- because he tells the truth, among other reasons. I think that people who are drawn to Bill are part of this forward movement, and that our lives touch each other for a purpose. My deepest wish is that these scribblings serve that purpose. In any event, these writings represent my experience of and reaction to Bill's performance in Santa Barbara. Each individual would write something different.

THE OWNERS OF PERUVIAN PASO HORSES HAVE MANY BIZARRE TRIBAL RITUALS.
AMAZINGLY, THE HORSES TOLERATE IT.
Under the costume is one of the most decorated Peruvian Paso stallions in the world, Dominguito..

SEEING BILL

Just over two years ago, I clawed my way across the Eastern states to see Bill Miller play in Cambridge, MA: my first experience of Bill live. In addition to an expensive, difficult journey, I had a hard time getting anyone to go with me. My back went out. I ran out of money. Almost missed my plane. I stood in line for ages, crabby and hungry.

BILL'S CONCERT WAS GREAT!

Two days afterward, my life exploded into a two year free fall containing cancer, death and points in between. The 53 years before that were no picnic, either. I write about this in The Journey & The Long Road to Taos.

This time, by major contrast, Bill appeared in Santa Barbara, practically in my front yard. A group of wonderful people effortlessly appeared to accompany me to the concert. My back was great. No one died or got sick. Everything was terrific. This made me very nervous.

As the date of the concert approached, I thought, "If Bill's concert stinks, will my life be wonderful for the next two years? ....Or am I putting too much weight on unrelated events?"

I'll never know, because he was he was fantastic. Even better than 2 years ago.

BOUQUETS GIVEN WHERE DESERVED:
YOU WERE GREAT, BILL!

I met Bill after Friday's performance and said, "You blew me away-- and I don't blow away easy." Bill Miller is one of the most extraordinary human beings I've met. I've studied with some truly extraordinary people: two bona-fide meditation masters. A tai chi master who is also a nuclear physicist. World class professors whose dedication to humanity illuminates all they touch. Teachers, ministers, counselors and friends of enormous integrity, perception, compassion, honesty and love. Great company. Bill, I place you among them, right up front.

Why? Not just because Bill survived. Cockroaches survive. I value Bill Miller so highly because he took all that happened to him and turned it into an explosion of truth which is beautiful, moving, touching and real. Without pretense or artifice.

Why is Bill Miller so extraordinary? Because he has become himself.

Two characters were conversing in one of the existential philosopher Albert Camus' plays. ( The Stranger, I believe.) They were talking about career goals. One said, "I want to be my true self." Awed, the other replied, "I'm not so ambitious. I want to be a saint."

Hardest thing in the world: to be your self. We're here to pierce the veil of illusion that keeps us bound. We're here to find and be who we really are. We're here to help each other, and we're here to change the world.

 

SANTA BARBARA HARBOR SCENE

EVER BEEN TO SANTA BARBARA?

Before we get into the concert, how about some atmosphere? Bill performed in Santa Barbara, California. Have you ever been there? When we were thinking about moving down here, I called my cousin, Andrea, to ask her what she thought of the place. She came to go to school and stayed for 14 years. My cousin said, "If you get a chance to move to Santa Barbara, just go. Don't think about it. Just go. Go!" We did.

She was right. Santa Barbara is heaven on earth. Its sunlight is a marketable cure for depression. The plants are incredible. There's every kind of palm tree, bougainvillea in 15 colors, purple-flowered jacaranda trees everywhere. Driving down the freeway in May is a peak experience-- the plants explode with blossoms. Trees, bushes, vines. And that's just the freeway! Santa Barbara also has cool architecture, great people, beaches. Music. A university. What more could you ask?

Well, on Oct. 27th, 2000, it had Bill Miller, too. Bill appeared at Victoria Hall. Victoria Hall is a magnificent Victorian building in the middle of the downtown. On Victoria Street, not surprisingly. Victoria Hall is a perfect venue for Bill: a former church with stained glass windows, soaring space, great sturdy beams. It exudes good vibes. Victoria Hall is big enough for great acoustics, small enough for intimacy.

 

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BUY SPECIAL TACK OR APPAREL TO RIDE A PERUVIAN PASO HORSE.
JUST THROW ON ANY OLD THING.

 

HOW WAS THE CONCERT?

If you've read anything in Spurs Magazine before, you know I don't do reviews. The reviewer's arrogance and temerity in evaluating something that he/she couldn't do in a million lifetimes offends me. By way of review, I give you a slightly altered version of what my cousin Andrea said about Santa Barbara: "If you get a chance to see Bill Miller live, just go. Don't think about it-- Go!" So, go! Just GO!!!!

You can't capture the essence of one of Bill's shows except in person. He talks, chats, tells stories, sings. Every show is different. It's an experience. If you want more than that, bounce back to Bill's Page. You'll find links to his site for his schedule, etc., as well as links to his work on Amazon. You can hear his music for yourself. The recorded Bill is nowhere as good as the real Bill.

Instead of reviews, I do essays about my experience of a performance. Since I'm talking about my experience, my life and issues inevitably get involved. I don't particularly believe in astrology-- that the positions of the stars and the planets determine us in any way. But I do believe that our lives are intertwined. I believe people who are drawn to the same event or person, who find beauty and meaning in the same things, have business together-- something to say, do or complete. Getting this business done is what life is about. So I write my experience and whatever else I'm moved to write. I also try to tell the truth. Readers tell me this is useful.

 

OVERVIEW OF SANTA YNEZ VALLEY
This is where I live, the other side of the mountain from Santa Barbara.
Yes, it's heaven, very much on earth. This is a National Forest. I live in the part where there's houses.

 

WHAT WAS YOUR EXPERIENCE OF THE CONCERT?

I had a lot riding on this concert. An agenda. Expectations. I've been telling my friends about Bill Miller for years. Now he was here. I wanted my dear ones to be as inspired by his work as I am. I wanted the evening to be IMPORTANT! UNFORGETTABLE! SIGNIFICANT! I wanted us to get there fast, too. We hand a dinner party before the concert. I wanted to hit interpersonal nirvana before dessert.

And then there's reality.

The friends who came to see Bill with me knew each other through me-- many had never seen each other before. They came from work, school, and their busy lives to a place they'd never been for a dinner with people they didn't know. The coming together was fine, but it wasn't a swell of intimacy and joy. I was nervous. What if Bill had an off night?

Also-- something was happening inside me. The weeks before Bill's Santa Barbara visit were driven, and climactic: I'm writing the final scenes of my second book. I write because I have to-- my soul demands it. Inspiration comes when it does and it's very, very intense. This type of writing is like giving birth: when you're in labor, everything else disappears. Bill hit Santa Barbara along with my urge to push. (I regard this as no accident-- Bill's work takes me to my core.) The final scenes of my book threatened to erupt during the pre-show dinner party. I wondered if our hostess would let me on her computer if I couldn't stuff it.

 

OWNERS OF PERUVIAN PASO HORSES COME FROM ALL WALKS OF LIFE
AND HAVE VARIOUS TASTES. YOU CAN ALSO GET YOUR HORSE FITTED WITH A TURBO.

 

We got to Victoria Hall. I've observed before that Native Americans run on Icelandic time. My family's Icelandic-- we tend to run from several minutes to many centuries late. The show started a bit late, as they set up to video tape Bill's performance. The concert was graciously sponsored by the Chumash Casino of Santa Ynez. A representative of the Chumash tribe gave an invocation, a prayer, and played several haunting pieces on the Native American flute. A wonderful way to start the show. Cory Sipper opened for Bill.

Cory, I have to apologize to you. As you started to sing, my book's the last scenes wouldn't wait. I went into a meditative state and the climax of the book revealed itself. Its a big ending. When my book Heading Home comes out, Cory, know you were singing as the final scene materialized in my head. I'll have to get to know your work later, Cory.

The evening still hadn't jelled-- where was the great emotional event? The cosmic satisfaction? Jell was coming, but I didn't know it. It just took a bit of telling the truth. Being in the moment. Sharing reality. During the short break before Bill's performance, I shared the newly erupted final scene with Sudama Kennedy. Sudama is the leader of Dreamtime Continuum, a dear friend who had come to see Bill for the first time. We had a marvelous, miraculous conversation. Sudama and I jelled.

All this before Bill even appeared on stage. Let the show begin!

THIS IS NOT BILL MILLER PLAYING IN SANTA BARBARA!
Click on the photo to be transported to The Gathering's web site. The Gathering is a spiritual retreat hosted by
the Holston Conference Native American Ministries Team. The paintings behind Bill are his own work.
Photo: Georgia Dennis

BILL STARTED OF WITH A BOOM!

No apologetic entrance, no introductory blurb, just music. Just claiming the stage and the Hall. Bill started off with Reservation Road-- I think. Beats me. For me, the concert was a process of moving back into the real world from Writingland, being in the concert, and into another deep meditation, this one centered on Bill's music. Here's what the scene evoked:

HOW DO YOU GET THE MONKEY OFF YOUR BACK?
"Angst" Charcoal drawing by Lily Nathan

HOW DO YOU GET THE MONKEY OFF YOUR BACK?
Several of the people with me were in recovery from one thing or another. Major 12 steppers. As the concert began, one of my friends said something about the victim role and how it's imprinted on the body. How seeing the victim in someone just naturally makes our inner persecutor (we all have one) want to attack. Which calls forth the rescuer in someone else. Which makes the victim worse, and the persecutor nastier. Round and round: it's an infinite game. How do you get unhooked?

This is a hard problem: If you've had the crap beaten out of you, been told you're nothing and worthless, and, at the same time, told"Why aren't you achieving anything?" How do you get out of it???!!! How do you not have your body and soul reflect it? I'm not talking about race or the history of Native Americans here-- I'm talking about US. Women, minorities, abuse survivors. US.

Bill said early on, "You're not here unless you're one of the rejects." Unless you've gotten mangled a bit.

So-- SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! YOU NO GOOD S.O.B.! WHY AREN'T YOU DOING BETTER IN THE WORLD!!???

How do you go from there to being yourself? Biggest question in my life.

BILL HAS DONE IT. NOTHING IN BILL MILLER'S PHYSICAL STANCE, GAZE, THE WORDS HE SAYS, HIS MUSIC, OR THE INCREDIBLE WAY HE STEPS OUT AND TAKES CONTROL SCREAMS VICTIM!! YET HE TALKS ABOUT GOING THROUGH THE MOST DIFFICULT, HORRENDOUS, EVIL THINGS A PERSON CAN EXPERIENCE. HOW DID HE DO IT AND COME OUT THE WAY HE IS? (If I were to interview him, I would want to know more about this. Much more.)

Miller gave hints about how he became who he is last night-- talking about the Polish family which befriended him when he went to school. I'm sure others helped. We need other people. No one survives alone. No one escapes hell without help. We need each other. That physical touch is crucial. As is the touch of God. And the touch of pain.

HOW DO YOU GO FROM THE SHADOWS INTO THE LIGHT?
Photo of Puye Cliff Dwellings, NM, by Zoe Nathan

BILL SAID, "YOU'RE NOT HERE UNLESS YOU'RE ONE OF THE REJECTS"

Beg to differ Bill, your audience consists of saints in the making. We wouldn't be listening to you unless we'd been touched by God. Touched by God, usually with a blunt instrument. Suffering is the fastest way to escape the snares of the world. Suffering is the fastest way to attain God. (Check out Journey & Ordeal which present my insights on the spiritual journey, dealing with evil and the value of ordeals in spiritual growth. Also take a look at the article on the Prison Project.) The people I've come to admire most are those who have suffered the most and triumphed. Who have gone through hell and blast out love and inspiration and move everyone they touch to do the same. People like you.

Your audience are saints in the making, Bill. The true winners in the game of life. We're distinguished from mediocrity by the scars we bear--If we transform ourselves. If we avoid the pitfalls. If we get out of the victim role. A big problem with survivors: identifying with what happened. "I am my abuse. I am what happened to me. Boo hoo." I'm not talking about Native American issues here-- I'm talking about myself, and surviving. Biggest barrier to getting well: a community that supports the victim role.

I often wondered how Bill can speak about what he does, over and over again, and not get enmeshed in it. Without dropping back into impacted by it just by the act of talking about it. Yet he does it. Amazing. (That's another interview question I'd ask him. How do you stay detached, yet do the job?)

OAKS HAVE MORE CHARACTER IN DEATH THAN MANY LIVING PEOPLE
Dead oak on Stanford University land by Zoe Nathan

LOSING IT

Bill talks a lot in his concerts. Talks about stuff that matters. One of the things he talked about Friday night was his life right before he put out the CD "Ghostdance". This was when he lost his contracts with Warner Bros. and his publishing company, plus his manager and agent. All at once. Massive, massive loss for anyone, much less a family man with five kids.

What did Bill do? What his wife said: calling his wife his "spiritual backbone", Bill went into his back yard and prayed. The next day, he took the keys to two old trucks to the bank and got a loan to produce Ghostdance-- with the help of his former agent (or manager, I forget which. We do need help, however it may offer itself. And we need to acknowledge it.)

Everyone knows what happened next: Ghostdance carried Bill to glory. Out of nothing. Out of tragedy. Amazing. And not amazing. That's what grace does. Plus, Ghostdance is a magnificent piece of work, fully worthy of what it's earned.

I was glad Bill shared this very trying and triumphant period of his life. I needed to hear it and I'm sure many others did, too. I'm going to elaborate a bit on this topic of massive loss. We all hit rough times, bad periods. But some of us hit times so massively bad, so hideously demanding, that our whole world feels endangered. Three years ago, I might have heard Bill's story and gone, "Oh, wow. That's really awful." It wouldn't have had the impact it did. I said earlier, my last two years have been rough. I write about handling ordeals at length. When I wrote about it a year ago (Ordeal), I assumed all the disasters would stop or bearing them would get easier. This didn't happen. The year 2000 was an all time low on the disaster scale for me: my mother-in-law died in May. A dear one's illness reasserted itself. Then my mother died in July. Massive loss.

I was raw when I saw Bill. So when he talked about playing Amazing Grace at his father's funeral, it really hit home: the contradictory feelings. Memories flapping around like bats, pummeling. Biting. Doing what you need to is a holy challenge. When I spoke at my mother's funeral, my hands shook so hard I had to grab the podium so people wouldn't see. I thought I would faint. I only got up because my friends supported me, "This is your last chance, Sandy. Do it." So I did.

How do we survive such massively bad times?

Bill told us: Listen to your friends (spouse). Go somewhere where you're in touch with nature. Ask for help from a greater source. Do whatever guidance says. Take support where it's given. Have faith that all will be well. Also-- make sure your product is top flight. Make sure what you want is just and righteous. Beautiful. Use grace constructively.

Hell is often the entrance to heaven.

 

WHO DIES? WHAT IS THERE TO CLING TO?
"Addiction", Charcoal drawing by Lily Nathan

 

MORE ON COPING WITH TRAGEDY

The formula Bill sets out above is a good one. I'd like to add another piece: when you can-- when the fire's died down enough to allow it-- go on retreat. I go on retreat two or three times a year. Disengaging from the world, taking my trauma, my deep inner wounds, somewhere holy and staying there until help comes is how I've survived. You can't be passive on retreat, either. Ask for help in the inner and outer world. Be with yourself, being alert to the answer when it comes. Act the answer, most vital step of all. (I'm writing more on coping with loss. Writers' Corner II is being written. Also take a look at the Ecstasy Series. This includes a great source list on ecstatic states from many traditions. Proven "uppers.")

A book I recommend: The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Sogyal Rinpoche. Absolute must reading for those who will die. Soul food for spiritual warriors. I count this among the best books I've ever read.

 

CALIFORNIA OAK IN WINTER

 

LET'S LIGHTEN UP. WE'VE TALKED ABOUT DEATH. HOW ABOUT POLITICS?

Remember up top where I talked about my expectations for the concert? And how it was a loaded situation? This is where I talk about how loaded. We are going to get down to core feelings. If you have looked at this website, you will notice that it is large. You will also notice that I have fairly extensive pages on Robert Mirabal and Bill Miller. Certain facets of my life are similar to theirs internally, if not externally. I have found Bill and Robert's ability to express the underlying emotional impact and truth of these shared experiences very, very liberating. Also inspiring, as you will know if you've read any of it.

My husband has a few small considerations about the amount of time/space on our website devoted to certain Native American men. Just a few tiny thoughts and feelings about it. Of course, he has neither read anything I've written about them, nor listened to any of the CD's of the aforementioned Native Americans. He likes to ride his horse. He does not like loud noise. Or most people. Groups. Movements of any sort except equine. Okay? It's not that he's as mean and tough as he seems. When you get to know him, if you get to know him, he is quiet and relatively friendly. And he certainly hasn't seen the pictures of Robert Mirabal that Cathy Johnson sent me. (Check it out! They're right here: Mirabal's Page. Whoa Cathy! Right on!)

As the date of Bill's concert approached, I detected a certain resistance to the event in my husband. A grumbling detachment. Plus, he began slamming doors and wearing his spurs inside. I realized that we are in an age group where many people are losing it, rather than using it, as they say colloquially. I understood that my husband might see my interest in these artists as analogous to those menopausal drives that result in men dumping their wives of thirty years for 18 year olds. (16 year olds, if they can get away with it.) I wanted to reassure him and head off any such thoughts by a frank discussion probing our deepest feelings and fears. For after all, is not middle aged insanity merely fear of death while you're still young enough to do something about it? I delved deep into my counseling training, into my years teaching listening and communication skills, my empathy and compassion. I searched for the exact words to approach the sensitive and delicate psychological area involved. Words that would get to the point rapidly-- my husband's a man of few words.

I said, "Whatsa matter, Barry, are you jealous?" You should have seen the look he shot me as he headed out the the barn. I would have finished up our discussion with, "You have no reason to be jealous. I appreciate their artistry. Besides, all my friends think that Michael Greyeyes is the Native American hunk. And I agree." (Not that you aren't attractive, Bill and Robert.) I couldn't add this, because he was way over the next hill on his horse before I could get the words out. Or add, "I don't like younger men, anyway. I like older men. I think Paul Newman is fantastic! But don't take it personally!"

NATIVE AMERICAN HUNK
THIS CALIFORNIA BRED PERUVIAN PASO STALLION IS BUILT.
Capoeira BSN- our stallion. Named for the Brazilian martial art.

Anyway, many issues were on the table as we drove to Victoria Hall. Many issues with long history. Remember the Human Potential Movement? Is it still alive anywhere else in the country? It was born in the San Francisco Bay Area, where I happened to be born as well. (Not at the same time.) Well, I did the 70's spiritual seeker trip pretty hard. Hit just about all of the major workshops. I talk about it in Journey. Right before the discussion of Evil, I think. Anyway I really like to share deep, important, spiritual things with those I love, so I dragged Barry to every tweaked out, weird, bizarre sort of thing I could find. Probably setting him back lifetimes, karma-wise. He's a good sport, I must say. Church was another thing. I'd drag him there. A minister had one shot. He/she had to move my husband with one sermon, or that was it.

It got so Barry wouldn't go to the grocery store with me.

Miraculously, we've been together since 1974. It's because we're crazy about each other. But we have a history about finding things we both like. He's as quiet as I am outgoing. He's very private, especially about things that move him deeply. He's completely nongreedy. The most truly democratic person I've met. The best father I've ever seen. And someone I rely on as much as I do air. I couldn't have made it through the last years without him. He's the love of my life and my best friend.

But, the underlying currents were definitely present.

 

HEAD SHOT OF NATIVE HUNK.

 

Let's pause. Consider what I have revealed from God's point of view. Everyone walking into Victoria Hall had some sort of story going. Like mine. Different from mine. Or completely off the wall. Even Bill, I bet. We all have some drama going. Some really important issue that keeps us from being present. Where life is. Isn't it a crack up? Imagine how it must appear to God: all these self absorbed ants. Then-- moving out from Victoria Hall-- consider the people on the streets of Santa Barbara. In restaurants, hotels. Houses. All with mellow and not so mellow dramas going? Imagine you could get in everyone's heads in an every widening circle. Covering the planet. What it must be like for God, listening to this stuff all over the universe? All the time? A giant, never ending soap opera! And we take it so seriously!

God must let the universe go on just to hear the endings.

We're writing the endings. All of us. By our thoughts, feelings, words, actions. We write the future. Our future. The planet's future. Bit by bit, act by act. Now.

 

CAPPY IN MOTION. ONE TUFF STUD.

 

DID BARRY LIKE BILL? VERY MUCH.

This is true praise, Bill, believe me. My husband said he could sit and listen to you talk all night. He loved his Native American vocalizations. He loved your guitar picking. Wants the volume turned down. Really wants to talk politics with you. Better write that book, Bill, you've got one copy sold for sure. He might even take you riding with him. I'll ask him when he gets back. He's out riding with our daughter. In the rain.

My husband was in the first Peace Corps "class", going to Rio de Janeiro in the early sixties. Rough duty for a guy in his early 20's! I have pictures of Barry with Eleanor Roosevelt, Sargent Shriver and Bobby Kennedy. He loves Brazil & the Brazilieros. Loved the work he did in the favelas, the shanty towns of Rio. He danced in Carnaval with the favelistas twice! From there he trained Peace Corps volunteers, worked for Model Cities and antipoverty programs all over the country.

He's a terrific man.

He's also in his Presidential Election frenzy and wants me to remind everyone to vote. Vote your heart and your mind.

That's how Spurs does politics.

 

IS HE GORGEOUS , OR WHAT?

 

WRITINGLAND TO PRESENT TO ECSTASY

My experience at the concert. Very hard to describe. As all this was going on, that scene in the book was still being born inside me. On stage we have Bill and his incredible presence. His incredible artistry and craft. His music. A million personal myths and scripts floating in the room. My soul. My presence. Somewhere. Interesting to observe. When I write, I'm in a trance state, half in this world, half in my inner world. I get stuck halfway. This is great for writing, not so great for social events. Or really getting a concert. When Bill was playing, I came back from this halfway Writingland state, into the room. Fully present in the room.

BOY! CAN BILL FILL A ROOM! I SWEAR, HE MIGHT AS WELL HAVE BEEN A BAND! TRULY!

I was back into the room. Into my body. Into my heart. Know anything about chakras? Term is from India. They're energy centers in your body, lined up along your backbone. Invisible: Not in Gray's Anatomy, but there. I'm writing a series on eBay where I talk about chakras. (Series is dedicated to Bill. Click to read dedication.) In that series, I talk about my lower chakras, dealing with lust and greed, opening. When I was listening to Bill, my upper chakras opened. First the heart. Which has to do with love. And then the one between my eyes-- can't remember the name,sorry-- popped open. It has to do with spiritual insight. These upper guys are much more fun than the lower puppies.

You do not have to do drugs to get high!

I discovered something. Ecstasy lives in the room, in the present. When I moved into my body, when the chakras opened, ecstasy appeared. My spirit soared.

 

WE'VE BEEN RIDING TOGETHER FOR A LONG TIME. PLAN TO CONTINUE.
I'm riding the son of the mare Barry's riding. They're carbon copies.

 

WAS THE EVENING A SUCCESS?

Oh, yes. Bill blew all my friends away. Charmed then all. We got that state, that blissful, ecstatic experience that I wanted everyone to have.

And we went home.

 

ANYBODY SEEN THE FLY SPRAY? WE GOT A REAL PROBLEM HERE.
All the funny photos come from a costume class at a show up in Santa Rosa.
They were taken by Jessica Flynn, an artist friend of mine, who couldn't believe it, either.

 

A great experience should result in great realizations. Here's one: We face a huge challenge. It's not about praising people and giving awards. (Though I certainly do praise Bill Miller and award him with a thousand golden volcanos..). The job isn't about that. It's not about people or personalities. I don't know Bill Miller, but if I did, and I asked him, "Why do you sing, Bill? Why do you travel around singing when you could be home watching TV?" I suspect he'd say, "Well, I tried that and it almost killed me..." No! Just kidding. He'd say, "I have to. I don't have any choice. I sing what I do because I'd die if I didn't. I have to sing." The pressure inside demands it.

Ah. The golden explosion of love that exists in Bill Miller demands that he sing. And demands it of me. And you, my reader and his audience. We're attracted to Bill Miller because the greatness in his heart resonates with the greatness in each of us. That greatness demands that we sing. So sing!

That's my message to you.

Love,

Sandy

A personal resolution resulting from the concert:

I'm writing a series on Ecstasy for this website. (Ecstasy, the state not the drug.) Maybe we'll have ecstasy by Christmas. Music. Poetry. Readings from the world's masters. I've wanted to do it for a couple of years. Ecstasy: Your Protection Against the World. That was the title of my meditation teacher's Christmas Day talk two year ago. Ecstasy. Our birthright. Time to get it written. Bill's concert pushed me into action on this. (It's up, folks. Click on Ecstasy.)

NEW! Click here to see a '06 video of Xoca under saddle!
All new film and photos of Xocolatl BSN, the terrific young mare for sale at Rancho Vilasa! Sale page

SANTA YNEZ VALLEY WHITE OAK
These magnificent creatures are under attack by the wine industry.
See Oak Trees & Vineyards for details.

IT'S OUT! New from SANDY NATHAN:

Sandy Nathan's NEW book NUMENON has WON TWO NATIONAL AWARDS before publication!

Click here to hear Sandy speak about Bill and her new book on Fascinating Authors!

AUTHOR SANDY NATHAN IS THE WINNER OF 8 NATIONAL AWARDS!

SANDY NATHAN
Click to go to sandynathan.com

AVAILABLE NOW! New from SANDY NATHAN!

Click here for Sandy Nathan's blog and all the latest information.
Click here to hear Sandy speak on Fascinating Authors.

 

 

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