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| A Sara Hickman eNewsLetter for July 8, 2004 hello, kitty cats! this has been a busy summer...our children have been home with us as we decided on no camps for kids...just quality stay at home time, making art, jumping rope, visiting the local museums, seeing friends, family, and, of course, swimming! so, pardon my delay in getting out a newsy letter to you! i'm sure you all have been up to lots of fun, as well! GIGS: my library gigs for the city of austin have been enriching my soul with the amount of children i've been able to perform for and with...i've seen a vast array of children, many with smiles on their faces, all eager for hugs and laughter and music and stories. it's helped me grow more confident, and determined, in my wish for all children to be respected, loved and learned from. there are only two library gigs left, so come on out, if you can, and enjoy the silly summer shin-digs! please check my website...there are so many gigs, i am getting loopy-de-loo just thinking about them...tonight (JULY 8) i sing the National Anthem for the Barnum and Bailey Circus. my girls and i discussed whether i should make an animal rights plea right before i sing the song. it was decided it would not be appropriate, so i will respect my girls wishes...however, i may wear a tee shirt that says "ANIMALS DESERVE LOVE, TOO" or something like that... tomorrow night, i sing for the NEW LIFE INSTITUTE (July 9), a great group that provides spiritually based counseling for those who cannot afford counseling. it is going to be a mediterranean party. so, come ready to shimmie shimmie co-co pop! saturday (July 10) i will be appearing for two songs at a community talent show (5 pm..trinity united methodist church) and later at flipnotics for a full show...9 pmish... SYMPHONY i'm excited to say i will be performing with the symphony spring 2005. kelly willis and i will be doing a children's show together...more on that as it develops.. and i have been invited to sing with the symphony for next year's fourth of july performance in zilker park...so, i really need to work up some fresh punk rock numbers! ha ha. i'm looking verrrrrry forward to having a "band" behind me!!! TELEVISION
"gimme the mic" has been running...it is KVUE 24's local version of "american idol", except that we three judges (me, mark murray and danny levin) try to be supportive and not mean ever ever ever. the show is on saturdays at 6:30. i had a super make up artist who is now my new best friend cuz her laugh was like jingle bells! |
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| AND NOW...another of the TOP TWENTY MUSICAL MOMENTS i just know you've been waiting for (drumroll, puh-lease.....) MOMENT NUMBER 3 in the musical moment countdown (if you missed the first 17, i believe you can read them via my website somehow...sorry i am a dork about knowing how to find my stuff! but i can TYPE super fast...like, 90 words a minute! that's what we call my special gift. AND NOW...A Musical Moment With Sara I was working with a group called A.R.T.S for People, a therapeutic arts/music/dance program working within hospitals, retirement homes, pysch units, hospices, and city facilities (like MHMR). I became involved in the program, in Dallas, right after graduating college. I was living with my great aunt in Garland, had little money, few friends, and working in a shoe store during the day. Life was very quiet at the time. During this quiet period of my life, I had some major personal chaos and emotional traumas that were hurtful and confusing. I became more and more depressed, finally admitting myself to a psych unit in Lewisville for fear my depression would lead to suicide. I felt very, very alone in the world. The center was peaceful, and the therapists were consistent and demanding. I kept a journal. I ate three meals a day. I had time to think about the abusive relationship I was in, and the space I needed to figure out why I was in it. I learned so much, yet it didn't all come together for me in that one week. It took years to unravel my feelings and behaviours...so this was really the beginning to understanding who I was. (By the way, if anyone out there is reading this and has a fear of admitting yourself for help to a clinic, let me just say this: it is NOTHING to be ashamed of. In fact, it was the greatest gift I could ever give to myself, and to those who love me, then and now.) So, as I left the unit, a friend said, "Maybe you would enjoy A.R.T.S." I wrote to the founder, Margery Clive, and before I knew it, I was a part of the program. I was creating music/art therapy programs that I would specialize for children in burn units, folks with Alzheimers, AIDS patients, you name it. It was a learning experience in how music/art could expand an individual's healing. And, in the process, it was helping me to heal, too, by concentrating on others and not myself. Many of these experiences have turned into songs... for example, "Secret Family" is about a man I worked with who had thrown himself in front of a train. His decision cost him both legs, an arm, and his head was in traction, surrounded by a metal halo. The anger this man felt radiated from his hospital room before I even entered it. I don't know if I gave a single thing to that man that day, but his hatred toward self was overwhelmingly upsetting to me. I have never forgotten the look in his eyes when we met. It is a ghost I can't erase. But, generally, my experiences with patients was life affirming, for both of us. Here is where I want to share two stories with you about those days. The first is about a little boy, perhaps two years of age. He had been a healthy child until he fell down some stairs and lost both his hearing and his sight. Now he was shrouded in darkness and silence. No one could reach him. His frustration was evident as he sat on a playmat near a wall in a dayroom. He was slowly bouncing on his seat out of boredom. I approached him with my guitar, alone, the two of us. I sat down next to him and reached my hand out to calmly stroke his right arm. To let him know I was there. He angrily pulled his arm away. I was scared. I wasn't sure how to approach this dilemma...how would I reach this child? How could I let him know others cared for him, that he could still have contact in this world? Immediately, I thought of Helen Keller touching the water and understanding, "W-A-T-E-R" as it was spelled in the palm of her hand. I had an idea. I sat as close to the little boy as I could. I continued to softly touch his arm until he calmed down. Finally, I guided his hand to my guitar; I laid it upon the wood. I quickly struck up the song "TEQUILA", only because I knew it had a strong rhythm, and magic struck. The little boy stopped his wiggling. He felt the music traveling up his arm, into his mind and heart. His eyes grew wide, and he started to laugh. His body began to sway in time to the guitar, and I was yelling out to the nurses and doctors, "Come quickly! Hurry!" and soon the room was clapping and smiling with onlookers who understood the breakthrough. I tell you: it was the face of God that day, to see how that little boy understood he was not alone. How much I loved my guitar and the heartbeat of song! Another day...and many of you have heard this story, but I would like to tell it again. Please bear with me if you have heard it from stage... I was asked to visit with a woman who was bedridden. She had endured a stroke, and was paralyzed down the right side of her body, face to feet. She also had aphasia, which paralyzes speaking to murmurs, grunts and growls, although, generally, the person attempting to speak is still mentally capable of thought. Can you imagine the frustration? The room was soft with late afternoon sun. I sat upon the side of the woman's bed and quietly sang a few songs. I talked in between songs, just calming conversation about my name, the day, the like. Before long, the woman was attempting to speak back. She was becoming frustrating, and I put my guitar up on the other bed, leaning over to hold her hand and place my ear to her lips. "Try again," I said. I could not understand her! She grunted something else, and I didn't want to let her down. I kept repeating, gently, to try again, that I wanted to understand. Finally, as I thought she would burst from the word within her mind, I captured a fuzzy comprehension...she had said, "I love you." "I love you, too," I said. I held her hand and stroked her long, wise fingers, and there we were, two women, complete strangers, connected by love. That memory became the song "Aurora", which took me the longest to write of any song I have ever written. I worked on that song for six months, struggling, myself, trying to find the words to capture our moment together. Thank you, Aurora, for your kindness. Until next time, my friends, I wish you well and I wish you love. And never forget: every moment is a new extension of hope! Sara |
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