I once heard Basya Schechter sing in concert. I never forgot it. It was truly mind blowing extraordinary. And I’m going to say something weird here. I don’t believe in the orthodox Jewish prohibition of hearing a woman’s voice (well I’m a woman but I mean for a man) although I’m a traditional Jew. But when I heard Basya I (kind of) understood it (still didn’t agree). Her voice was so sensual so unique it could make you fall in love with her.
I've been following her for some time and she is truly lovely in all ways. And of course I'm not surprised to find out how complex she is. Her voice and music is a treasure.
This one is just beautiful! Too often in our lives, free spirits are viewed as "drifters", or "strange". It is not because of their inability to stay in one place, but rather our inability and lack of desire to understand that they dance to the beat of a different drum, and we fail to see what drives them. And we are hasty to judge them, as if the beat of our drum is normal and the one to which we should aspire. Maybe it isn't? Maybe we are enslaved to our routines and the anchors in our lives shackle us, while we convince ourselves that it is "stability"?
My late brother was an extraordinarily talented musician. Just a small anecdote: When I was about 12 I started learning the clarinet. I would practice and squeak and squawk, and I fumbled through Mary Had a Little Lamb and the like. Nick had never touched a clarinet before. One day, he picked up my clarinet, and after about two minutes of getting the feel of the notes and how the all levers and holes worked, he launched into Jethro Tull's Locomotive Breath, playing the clarinet like Ian Anderson played the flute! I was so jealous.
He too, danced to the beat of a different drum. My parents didn't get it, and I remember at least three times that they smashed his guitar into splinters out of frustration. It was like they had smashed his soul. I saw it in his eyes and the way he receded into himself. That guitar was not only his crutch, but his refuge, his safe place. So, this is a long way of saying that I so "get" how someone can be driven by love of music to explore all its borders and tides, even at the cost of comfort and security. Because they live for their music. Music to them is like comfort food to us. And it is this emotional connection on a plane that we mere luddites can only strive to achieve - if we are ever aware of it - that makes them so receptive and empathetic to what other people feel, and what makes them extraordinary.
These two women are really something special. Thank you for introducing me to these two fascinating and incredible women. They are truly like that line in Diane Birch's song; diamonds in the dust. Sparkling jewels, peeking out of the everyday "ordinary" of our normal lives. Like my late brother was for me. He left us way too soon.
I once heard Basya Schechter sing in concert. I never forgot it. It was truly mind blowing extraordinary. And I’m going to say something weird here. I don’t believe in the orthodox Jewish prohibition of hearing a woman’s voice (well I’m a woman but I mean for a man) although I’m a traditional Jew. But when I heard Basya I (kind of) understood it (still didn’t agree). Her voice was so sensual so unique it could make you fall in love with her.
I was already in love with her so hearing her sing was just icing on the cake. :-)
I've been following her for some time and she is truly lovely in all ways. And of course I'm not surprised to find out how complex she is. Her voice and music is a treasure.
This one is just beautiful! Too often in our lives, free spirits are viewed as "drifters", or "strange". It is not because of their inability to stay in one place, but rather our inability and lack of desire to understand that they dance to the beat of a different drum, and we fail to see what drives them. And we are hasty to judge them, as if the beat of our drum is normal and the one to which we should aspire. Maybe it isn't? Maybe we are enslaved to our routines and the anchors in our lives shackle us, while we convince ourselves that it is "stability"?
My late brother was an extraordinarily talented musician. Just a small anecdote: When I was about 12 I started learning the clarinet. I would practice and squeak and squawk, and I fumbled through Mary Had a Little Lamb and the like. Nick had never touched a clarinet before. One day, he picked up my clarinet, and after about two minutes of getting the feel of the notes and how the all levers and holes worked, he launched into Jethro Tull's Locomotive Breath, playing the clarinet like Ian Anderson played the flute! I was so jealous.
He too, danced to the beat of a different drum. My parents didn't get it, and I remember at least three times that they smashed his guitar into splinters out of frustration. It was like they had smashed his soul. I saw it in his eyes and the way he receded into himself. That guitar was not only his crutch, but his refuge, his safe place. So, this is a long way of saying that I so "get" how someone can be driven by love of music to explore all its borders and tides, even at the cost of comfort and security. Because they live for their music. Music to them is like comfort food to us. And it is this emotional connection on a plane that we mere luddites can only strive to achieve - if we are ever aware of it - that makes them so receptive and empathetic to what other people feel, and what makes them extraordinary.
These two women are really something special. Thank you for introducing me to these two fascinating and incredible women. They are truly like that line in Diane Birch's song; diamonds in the dust. Sparkling jewels, peeking out of the everyday "ordinary" of our normal lives. Like my late brother was for me. He left us way too soon.
Oh Paul. ❤️
I love you so much.
You have made your brother's memory a blessing to us, and you make yourself a blessing to everyone you meet, I am very sure.
Thank you so much.