SONGCYLES.com - A personal perspective blog

Courage

4/13/2017

The Acadian Expulsion

Acadia today

'Courage' is part of a work of ten related songs (also known as a songcycle) called 'The Misa'a Tapestry.' It is for choir, soloists, orchestra, and other instruments.

Musings

It has been a particularly difficult time in the world these last weeks, at least for me. News continues to pour in with increasing force from all fronts where individuals, groups, nations are struggling with the accelerating spin towards fracture.

I wonder...how can I hold optimism, and actualize my concerns with 'hands on' work? Some days...easy. Most days I can remember my 'vow' and move forward with courage and determination. Some days...not. I hold my head in my hands, and weep.

This song was written to honour the approximately 12,000 Acadians who were deported 'en masse' from New Brunswick in the 18th century. Families were torn apart and shipped out to the Louisiana Territory, most never to be reunited. One third of those deported died en route.

Same thing, other places, still happening.

It is of interest to note, the Acadians of New Brunswick have thrived. Their culture represents some of the most forward thinking, culturally rich aspects of New Brunswick.

Courage, mes ami. Courage, my friends. First and foremost...courage.

Music and lyrics: B. Glenn Copeland © SOCAN 2014

English Approximation

Courage, my friends
With hope we can move forward
Courage, my friends
With love let us live.

Lift our hearts
Lift our hearts
Hope...lift our hearts.

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A Message

3/17/2017

An original stained glass by Evelyn Wolff. www.wolffglass.ca

A Message
The owl in some cultures portends death. This song though rather long of necessity - the message needed to be repeated - is certainly not what would be expected by this winged messenger from the 'other side'. Owls have figured prominently in my life and dreams, so I've chosen this as a visual for this story full of light and flowers. A strange balance, I know.

Musings

In 1973 while living in Montreal, my closest and dearest friend, Sharon Klein, dropped by to wish me well as I was soon to leave for California for what I imagined to be an extended period of time. As a parting gift I gave her a hand knitted black shawl and knee length soft skin moccasins. We exchanged hugs at the end of the visit, and my last memory was of her walking away in the moccasins with the shawl clasped lovingly around her shoulders. The very next day she was dead from a sudden, massive coronary at the age of 26.

Years later, thirteen to be exact, I woke from a dream with this song fully written. In the dream my dear friend was walking along a broad dirt path through beautiful countryside. To the right were fields of brightly coloured flowers. On the left, hills rose up. Many of us were walking, together, laughing and playing - good friends all. We were very happy. It was a glorious day. I noticed that Sharon was walking and talking with just one person, gradually getting further and further ahead. Leaving us behind really.

This is the music with the message she sent me in this dream.

Gone now for almost 45 years, she remains in my heart and daily prayers. Sometimes I look at those with whom I have since made deep bonds who are younger. And I wonder....is that you, Sharon?

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You know you know

3/9/2017

'You know you know' was written maybe fifteen years ago. I can't really remember exactly when. It features me singing and playing everything as per usual!

The original stained glass is by Evelyn Wolff of wolfglass.ca

Musings

This song is a snap shot of what gave me hope about myself, and what pained me.

While I have always been an optimistic person of good cheer, the voice of doubt nevertheless sometimes sent out loud messages to keep me 'real' and focused. Then, of course, the voice of 'relax, your doing just fine, you're figuring life out' would counter, and encourage me.

I suppose that is the great balancing act that encourages us to love ourselves while discovering and attending to what needs shoring up.

I worked as a co-counselor in a psychotherapy practice for almost ten years during the late 80's and 90's. I noted that both voices seem to sit one upon each of our shoulders. For most of us, both voices want the best for us. But the critic can be very harsh in its approach, depending upon the individual.

Well, anyway I've survived my critic thus far!!

May you all survive yours. And may your 'cheering section' cheer you on eternally, my friends.

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Colour of Anyhow

2/22/2017

'Colour of Anyhow' is the first song on the 1970 GRT album. This photo is the back cover.

Lenny Breau's brilliant and delicate touch graces this simple, yet haunting song.

Musings

The young me is looking out, directly at the world. But either the world is veiled, or I am, somehow.

What a complicated internal and external reality I inhabited then. How difficult is was to just be myself. Years spent being partials ... a bit of me here at this time, a bit of me there at another. Youth. Pain. Yet, still somehow, optimistic and quiet within.

I thank the young me for having the fortitude to see me through to the old me. She knew then. He knows now.

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Heartache

2/9/2017

I was listening to songs written over the years, and came across this one, Heartache. Canadian musician and composer, Howard Baer orchestrated it with such finesse.
The beautiful painting, entitled 'Passage', is by the amazing artist and dear friend, Valerie Nichol.

Musings

Suffering the loss of a loved one is part of life. We all know it. Makes no difference though, when loss comes to call as it did for me in 1998. Suddenly, and totally unexpectedly, my beloved was gone, gone, gone.

I wrote this song ,which still today, happy as I am, startles me with the depths of its painful reflections.

The good news is...I lived through it, learned from it, made a subsequent mistake because of my assumptions about having healed from it, then really healed and found 'the perfect one' waiting for me. She was waiting for me to go through all of that, and emerge more whole, and more able to love.

'Aint it the way!

We walk our path, stumble, get up, and finally look back one day in deepest appreciation for having been able to rise wiser, and perhaps more beautifully adorned by our scars.

Purchase Heartache

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Slavin'

2/4/2017

There's not much to say about this, friends. The pictures say most of it. I wrote it in 2013 after a particularly enlightening work experience. I'm posting the lyrics as the Musings. The mouth harp player is my dear friend, and wonderful visual artist, Chard Chenier.

Musings

Slavin'
music and lyrics by B. Glenn Copeland
© B.Glenn-Copeland SOCAN 2013

You grind your life at the wheel
to sweeten the corporate deal
The only jobs they make
will chain you to the stake

Slash the funds for the poor
Who are crawlin’ to your door
They need another fool
And you can’t afford to send your children to school

              Slavin’ for the slavers
               Pimpin’ for the power

               Ave Maria

You’ve got a family of four
tellin’ you they all need more
You just can’t make ends meet
Watch the tube and go to sleep

Your daddy’s been long gone
Your mama's in an old folks' home
Soon will be your turn
Your kids they watch, they learn

           Slavin’ for the slavers
           Pimpin’ for the power

Long hours for your pay
There’s less of it everyday
Somewhere around the world
A woman makes a penny for a whole day’s toil

Need some land to drill
Rape and burn and kill
Drive folks from their home
Then give ’em a job and give ‘em a loan

           Slavin’ for the slavers
           Pimpin’ for the power

               Ave Maria

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Seven Gardens

1/29/2017

Seven Gardens came to me one day in the midst of last winter. Pastoral and peaceful, it is has the unusual time signature of seven beats to the bar.

Musings

What, I sometimes wonder, is the purpose of art? What does the spirit to create want?

That's a question with a thousand answers. Pick a moment and chose one. Music has lulled fretful babies, and marched men to war. Paintings have inspired spiritual devotion, and paraded patron egos. Poetry has kindled a sense of limitlessness, and vilified and degraded. Dance has been prayer, and a threatening warning. We watch films that ignite wonder, and those that promote nightmares.

I am having to check myself in my desire to judge. I'd like it all to be some version I deem to be beautiful and encouraging. Perhaps what seem to me to be so difficult, is necessary and must be expressed. Perhaps these troubling times fulfill a primary function of our growth.

Seven Gardens, however, is very calming. I guess I need that.

But when I sit and listen to the spheres - they dance and collide, they build up and break down, they sing and scream hot and cold, endlessly changing, triggering violent eruptions and explosions of life. Life!

But today...we offer something calming, as I said. Check back in with me another day. Who knows?

You can purchase Seven Gardens
if you'd like.

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Africa Calling

1/16/2017

'Africa Calling' is part of a new series of songs I am writing that explores rhythm as its first, and most important, aspect.

Spring Flowers in Mamaqualand, South Africa. Courtesy of Panoramio.com

Musings

One day, rather recently, I found myself writing music and vocalizing. There were few understandable words, mostly sounds made by vocal chords and mouth. When I finished the piece, I realized it was imbued with an energy and an emotional outpouring that had no translation except in the sounds themselves, save for a word here or there.

Some songwriters have an outpouring of poetry or lyrics that come first, to which they then write music. Others hear music, and then they write lyrics. Still others work in teams with bits of music and lyrics coming in no specific order.

I have always heard music first, and then struggled to translate it into lyrics. The struggling part has had few exceptions! Thankfully, if I listened long enough, and worked hard enough, the music told me what it was about.

In these pieces that I am now writing, the music has little or nothing more to say. And yet, when this piece was written, I danced, and cried, and threw my hands to the heavens in wonder and praise. Something was conveyed that I could not express in any other way than what you hear here, my friends.

Perhaps that something translated itself to me as just plain awe. Whatever it was, here 'tis, my friends.

While you're here...

... you might enjoy visiting other pages and listening to more music.

Keyboard Fantasies

Lakeland Angel

1/11/2017

Lakeland Angel was originally just called Lakeland. I recorded it in my home studio a few years ago, but today I feel that I should share it, despite not being 'professionally' recorded.

Musings

These days and nights feel very quiet, introspective. Everything seems pulled inward. Though the moon is coming on full, overt action and inspired activity appear retreating to allow the subconscious its reign. Is this the beginning of a new age, now 'officially' launching its dark dawning, storm clouds shrouding the sun?

Today I name it. The unmentionable draws near, as ever it has in cycles long in the making. Quiet desperation permeates our dreams, our conversations, our expectations.

Does this time herald further retreat, or the found courage to never be defeated? What will it be?

We are stardust born. What can we not reveal once roused from our painful dreams, my friends! Let us wake together and hold what we love and value.

A Little Talk - a video

1/9/2017

Click to View A Little Talk

Years ago, I found photos from non- professional photographers all over the world. I received permission from each of them to use their work in this video. Using my little home video maker I tried to approximate what I was feeling about the song "A Little Talk" from my Primal Prayer CD. Here 'tis.

Musings on 'A Little Talk'

I have heard the comment that the Primal Prayer CD represents me letting folks in on my unedited life - my joy, pain, awe, fear, belief, confusion. My unanswered and unanswerable questions.

In a fit of creative frenzy over a very short period of time this collection of songs poured out. It was what it was.

And what that was and is, I really have no idea. Life I guess.

Click the button below to see it.

Click to view A little Talk