Offering

My oldest memory of any kind is of music. I was only about three years old, so the scene is fuzzy around the edges, but in hindsight I realize that this is a memory of being in church. Not tall enough to see over the pew, I sat in awe, immersed in the sound of the invisible pipe organ and choir.

Then, after we came home from church, I went to the piano in the living room. My mother picked me up and put me on the bench, because it was too high for me to climb up on, and, with one finger, I figured out the melodies of the hymns.

From there, it was just a short step to making up my own melodies. I understand now that I was trying to make myself feel the same awe that I felt in church. In an innocent way, I was discovering inspiration for the first time.

Many years later my music is still primarily about encountering beauty. Such encounters can be powerful in an almost terrifying way, and they can also be deeply healing. Many people have described my music as having a healing power. I don’t doubt it, although I never consciously strive for that. I just love beautiful things, and I love making beautiful things. I suppose where there is beauty, there is also healing.