"Writing about music is like dancing about architecture. " ~ Laurie Anderson. I think writing about memories can be the same way.
I had the privilege of seeing "Time for Three" for the first time as they performed with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra last night. It was a great concert, with flavors of everything from Tchaikovsky, to Brahms, to Bluegrass. Tf3 was fantastic. They make you feel as if you've stumbled upon a jam session, and that you're welcome to come along for the ride. They're unique and spellbinding, and it's obvious that they have a lot of fun playing together. The bassist evoked, as I like to call it, "the many faces of Mike Ferrante"...and kudos to any fiddler who can sneak a bit of Beethoven into the Orange Blossom Special!
But while I was watching this:
I was remembering this:
Another trio that merged styles and personalities...and had way too much fun doing it. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss it.
As Dumbledore would remind me, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." There was a time when that picture was little more than a bittersweet testament to a season that has passed, and a time of influence that has come to a close. But now, it's a propelling reminder of the relationships, foundation, growth, joy and hope that time represents. The intangibles captured in that shot still drive me forward. It sounds corny, but every time I see that picture, I remember the heart of the message I want my life to leave.
What an unexpected gift! To remember the fun we shared, the music we made, the barriers we tore down, and the ways our lives were changed in the process.
All on a night when I get to ride in a 2010 Camaro, complete with the Bumblebee package. The best part? A little boy pointing and exclaiming, "Transformers! Transformers!" as we cruised by.
Yep that's me. Still changing lives. (And still with the help of my friends.)