tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:/blogs/follow-the-yellow-brick-road?p=2
Follow the Yellow Brick Road
2020-04-11T13:36:55-04:00
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
false
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/6279586
2020-04-11T13:36:55-04:00
2020-04-30T15:09:20-04:00
TAKE A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/b3e2c7e1adbac9c7a7ae200195209384cf66ae8a/original/wildworld.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><span class="font_large">Rarely does bathroom graffiti ring so true. I spotted this at Dépanneur Café, in Montreal, on March 6, 2020, the last time I sang in public. I snapped a photo because it resonated with the animist in me. Since then, the city has quieted considerably, and pandemic-imposed social distancing laws have inspired long, solitary walks, resurrecting my ear for Nature’s own sacred songs and resonant consciousness. I’m reminded that, even in the city, budding trees can be great gurus, offering wisdom and companionship to those who ask for it. And don't the birds have such beautiful voices?</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Happy Spring/Easter/Passover, friends! Fresh life is afoot and, yes, new music is in the making.<br><br>Now more than ever, I hear, is the time to dream a new dream.<br><br>Kimberly xxxx</span><br><br> </p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/5657839
2019-02-24T21:36:52-05:00
2019-03-01T12:31:34-05:00
THE CENTRE OF THE WORLD
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/55e627e2530bcf1943b1dc35f5e529ff9f9478c0/original/img-3912.jpg/!!/b:W10=.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><span class="font_large">THE CENTRE OF THE WORLD<br>(free download below)</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">When I wrote the words to “The Centre of the World,” a track from my first album, in 2005, I hadn't yet heard the neologism “solastalgia.” But, looking back, I can see that “eco-grief” was already taking root as a result of what I was witnessing in the world: the manipulation and defiling of Nature for the sake of private gain. I like the term solastalgia because it sounds like it has “soul” in it, which is exactly where this kind of grief digs in. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Fourteen years later, our planetary situation is more daunting than ever, with climate change coming at us fast and furious. While I still don't claim to have all the solutions required to turn things around, what seems<em> </em>clearer to me than ever is that our current paradigm - in which we see ourselves as separate from Nature - needs to be reviewed. This much I know: to take care of each other and the environment is to take care of ourselves. We are ONE. Diverse, yes; unique, yes; but deeply entangled all the same.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">The mystic in me suspects that if we are alive at this time, it’s because we have a role to play in this story. I believe this situation is calling us, like never before, to develop our latent virtues of courage, compassion, resourcefulness, and imagination in order to face the tests ahead with as much grace as possible. The fact that the future has never appeared so uncertain means the opportunity for heroism is higher than ever too. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">This Saturday, March 2, for Nuit blanche à Montréal, I plan to celebrate my inner wilderness by singing my heart out. KIMBERLY &THE DREAMTIME will share the stage with the beautiful MARI SILD MUUSIKA JA MÕTTED, dedicating the evening to the future of our planet. (See links with event info below.) Between sets, special guest GREG LYNCH, board member of Climatable and founder of Mantis Environmental, will speak briefly on sustainability, offering a few practical takeaways</span>.</p>
<p><span class="font_large">If you’re in Montreal, please join our <a contents="WE TOO ARE WILD " data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.montrealenlumiere.com/Programmation/Activite/MEL-8174"><span style="color:#e74c3c;">WE TOO ARE WILD</span> </a> event, and, through the powers of live music, help us raise the kind of energy conducive to transformation. While I don’t expect any of us will leave this concert with all the answers, my hope is that the shared experience will put us in the right space to ask better questions, like "What is my role within this story? How can I use my unique gifts or position within my community to bring more love, light, and healing to this situation? How can I avoid succumbing to fear, and develop the kind of courage this situation demands? How can I be part of the solution?" </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">This Saturday, let’s put our heads and hearts together - let’s feel the strength in numbers. In the meantime, to honour this event, I'd like to gift you a copy of “The Centre of the World,” my 2005 spoken-word piece paired with the gorgeous piano composition and performance of Shoukry Aboulehaf. The talented Norman Nawrocki adds extra texture to this track with his violin. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Until March 2, you can obtain a free copy of the track by clicking here and leaving your email: <br><br><a contents="THE CENTRE OF THE WORLD - download" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="http:///track/737118/the-centre-of-the-world"><span style="color:#c0392b;">THE CENTRE OF THE WORLD - free track</span></a></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Or you can simply listen for free on my site-wide music player.</span><br> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">Thank you for listening, and hope to see you this Saturday at Bistro de Paris! </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Kimberly</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">P.S. For show details, please click on the links below.<br><br><a contents="WE TOO ARE WILD \ NATURELLEMENT NOUS-MÊMES show details" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.montrealenlumiere.com/Programmation/Activite/MEL-8174"><span style="color:#c0392b;">WE TOO ARE WILD \ NATURELLEMENT NOUS-MÊMES show details</span></a><br><br><a contents="WE TOO ARE WILD / NATURELLEMENT NOUS-MÊMES FACEBOOK EVENT" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/events/407111053381378/"><span style="color:#e74c3c;">WE TOO ARE WILD / NATURELLEMENT NOUS-MÊMES FACEBOOK EVENT</span></a></span></p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/4959733
2017-12-05T15:44:17-05:00
2023-12-10T11:31:29-05:00
FREE CHRISTMAS!
<p> </p>
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/cbff005c2329184053d716f861dc4e40430ee3c9/original/kimberly-and-the-dreamtime-5-of-87-zf-3336-47595-1-002.jpg" class="size_l justify_center border_" /> <strong><span class="font_small">Photo by: Bruce Toombs - Kimberly & the Dreamtime, Montreal, Dec 21, 2015</span></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>FREE CHRISTMAS! </strong></p>
<p><strong> by Kimberly Bourgeois</strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">Nothing lights up my eyes like the sight of fresh starry snowflakes shimmering beneath street lamps. No matter how old I get, I still find something promising and magical about the month of December. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">Yet, it’s also around this time of year I start to hear folks grumble about the stress and cost of Christmas. Those of us who celebrate this holiday in North America know the drill: rack up credit cards with presents, ornaments, and vacation packages, then parcel it all up in paper and tinsel destined for the dump on January 2. We’ve probably all shared in these consumption rituals to lesser or greater degrees. And most of the time, we've probably meant well. After all, gift-giving is an important way of showing our appreciation for loved ones. And, as humans, we all want to love and be loved, right? It’s one of the things that’s cool about us. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">What’s not so cool is how our overconsumption is destroying the home that sustains us. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">I’ve been talking and singing about this for years, but this Christmas more than ever has me thinking about our future. With scientists now saying the Earth’s sixth mass extinction is underway, it’s clear we have to do more than just talk. As we witness the heartbreaking biological annihilation of wildlife, we humans are waking up to the fact that our own fate is inextricably intertwined with that of our planet's plants, animals, and microorganisms. They are the foundations of our web of life. Given how quickly they’re disappearing, it’s becoming evident that if we’re going to make it, we have to change—not slowly over time, but today. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">Please don’t read me wrong. I’m not suggesting that we turn cynical, stop celebrating, or curb our generosity. At the core, there’s something inspiring and beautiful about all our efforts to surprise and delight our beloveds. What I <em>am</em> suggesting is that we radically re-think the nature of our offerings. Must our gifts always be material, for instance? Or could they consist of something less tangible, yet possibly more profound, like our undivided time? Could our PRESENTS consist increasingly of our PRESENCE? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">I’m not saying that material gifts are always bad; in fact, if you look around, it won’t take long to find people in genuine need of such offerings. There are plenty of folks who lack basics, like winter boots and coats—and even food. Nor am I suggesting that gifts must be strictly utilitarian. Our souls need </span>beauty—the <span class="font_regular">kind Nature provides as well as the kind we create through our culture. But I do believe that if we buy anything new these days (vs. the often preferable second-hand), we need to consider our purchase’s impact and staying power. Is it useful? Is it made to last? How is it packaged? Will it delight, empower, educate, or enrich the individual in the long-term, or will it quickly wind up in the trash, broken or replaced by something trendier? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">Within the context of climate crisis, buying frivolous stuff for people who clearly already have way more than enough (including ourselves), just for the sake of satisfying social conventions, seems reckless. Also, isn’t it crazy that in our consumer culture value is defined mainly by the amount we spend? Especially when you consider that, for all our spending, so many of us feel deeply impoverished? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">WHAT I’D LOVE TO SEE MORE OF THIS CHRISTMAS is the type of creative gift-giving mentioned earlier. Offerings of time and attention. As the pace of life continues to quicken, I suspect it’s what most of us deeply crave anyway. I know I sure do. Time spent carolling, dancing, journaling, storytelling, baking, crafting, tobogganing, strolling, reading, stargazing, snow-angel making, skating, meditating, talking, listening… Or, how about checking out local talent? Could the time formerly allotted to shopping be invested in visiting an art gallery, attending a poetry reading, or taking in a live, independent musical act? Many of these things can be done at little to no cost and leave less of a footprint than buying a bunch more stuff</span>—<span class="font_regular">especially if you keep your activities close to home, so you can walk or take public transit, avoiding car and air travel. And let’s be honest: doesn’t RECONNECTING with each other and ourselves sound way more fulfilling than all those trips to the mall? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">There is a song on my first EP that addresses this very idea. It’s called BUILDING A TRADITION. You will find the lyrics at the bottom of this post. In the spirit of “freeing up” Christmas, I’m offering it for download at no cost, between now and January 2, 2018 (see link below). I’d love for this song to factor into your quality time this season, and maybe even become one of your listening traditions. If it gets you up dancing, all the better. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">If you’ve already purchased it, I thank you, and invite you to “gift” this link to your friends so they might also enjoy it. If you’d like to leave a donation in exchange for the work, you can (this is the kind of gift I appreciate most, as it helps me to keep doing what I do), but you shouldn’t feel obligated. Any amount—big, small, or nothing at all—is perfectly acceptable. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">What matters most to me now is spreading the message conveyed in the song, which is to shift our focus from overconsumption to CONNECTION. It’s an important message year round, but since consumerism peaks during the holidays, let’s use this season to our advantage. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">This year, the greatest gift we could possibly offer our future selves is to finally awaken from the nightmare we’ve collectively created and BEGIN DREAMING A MUCH BETTER DREAM. Let’s free Christmas of its costly conventions and start building new traditions—the kind that actually support our magnificent selves and beloved Planet Earth. </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">Wishing you much love this holiday season, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular">Kimberly </span></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Until January 2, 2018, click link below for free download:<br><br><a contents="BUILDING A TRADITION - download link" data-link-label="" data-link-type="track" href="/track/737112/building-a-tradition">BUILDING A TRADITION - download link</a></strong><br> </p>
<p><strong><span class="font_regular"><span style="color:#e74c3c;">BUILDING A TRADITION </span></span><span class="font_regular"><span style="color:#e74c3c;">WRITING CREDITS: Lyrics by Kimberly Bourgeois; music by Christian Pelletier. </span></span><span class="font_regular"><span style="color:#e74c3c;">MUSICIANS ON THIS RECORDING Voice: Kimberly Bourgeois; Guitar: Scott Diffee; Grand piano and organ: Daniel Loyer; Drums: Daniel Zanella; Bass: Jerry Catanescu; Violin: Norman Nawrocki.</span></span></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;"><span class="font_large">building a tradition </span></span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;"> Lyrics by Kimberly Bourgeois</span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;"> </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">Tonight, if it weren’t </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">for the ribbons of light, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">the chaos of colour </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">tying up the city </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">like an overstuffed package, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">would we even know </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">it’s Christmas? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">The heavens are dropping out, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">drizzling with the kind of disappointment </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">that used to get buried </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">deep within November </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">And I’m coming home to you, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">my heart unfolding </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">like the hand of a beggar </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">while Ste-Catherine Street hustles a sky </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">painted grey </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">for the remnants of day </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">Would you hold me </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">like we’re building a tradition, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a dream temple for two, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a sleep so deep with healing </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">that trust will grow anew? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">Do you remember </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">when seasons used to dress up— </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">December a radiant bride, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">sweeping the earth </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">with her train of sequins, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a diamond-studded blanket </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">winking up at a honeymoon? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">There’s nothing green about this Christmas </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">but the hurried flash of cash— </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">this year’s gifts </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">are next year’s trash— </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">and tonight I long for something </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a little old-fashioned, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">something I know is going to last </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">Would you hold me </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">like we’re building a tradition, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a dream temple for two, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a sleep so deep with healing </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">that trust will grow anew? </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">Would you hold me </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">like we’re building a tradition, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a midnight mass for two, </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">a sleep so deep with healing </span></strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#27ae60;">that trust will snow anew? </span></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="color:#27ae60;"><strong>Building a Tradition</strong> ©2005 Kimberly Bourgeois and Christian Pelletier All rights reserved.</span></p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/4883894
2017-10-09T17:26:39-04:00
2017-10-09T20:31:13-04:00
Heart Wave in the Heat Wave
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/dd93a2c6d923b0ff5cd8b9f3fe4bbaa3ae97a18f/original/guitar-with-band-in-background.jpg?1507587928" class="size_l justify_center border_" /> Photo by: Elizabeth Hanane Photo<br><br>September 23, 2017: I will remember you. This year, the second day of fall turned out to be the hottest day of summer. Go figure. Things got even hotter as we revved up the old dream machine and started to play. We had no sound technician for this informal gathering, so the resulting live, unedited footage below, captured by a friend with a smart phone (thanks, Liz Stevenson!), is about as raw and DIY as it gets. Yet, the energy raised felt right - musically and otherwise - which, at the end of the day, is what live music is all about: the people, the energy, and the memories. </p>
<p>It's the kind of moment that comes to mind when I'm counting my blessings, as I'm doing right now on this Thanksgiving Monday. I'm reminded that nice things often come in small packages, which is how this recent gift-like get-together felt to me: small, simple, yet incredibly sweet. The occasion? Our singer-songwriter friend Matt Stern was visiting from BC, so we gathered a handful of friends and a load of good vibes in his honour. Can’t think of a nicer way to spend a steamy September Saturday. </p>
<p>So here you have it: Kimberly & the Dreamtime - live, unedited, and sweaty - playing "Heart Wave" in the Heat Wave. </p>
<p>Holding this memory tight as we head into the darker, colder months. </p>
<p>Happy Thanksgiving, friends! <br><br>Kimberly</p>
<p><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="Oi48909YqZc" data-video-thumb-url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/Oi48909YqZc/mqdefault.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Oi48909YqZc?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="180" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe><br><br><br> </p>
<p> </p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/4741267
2017-06-11T14:41:37-04:00
2018-09-26T11:35:25-04:00
DETOUR
<p> </p>
<p><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/ed8175e3c2418ad9faa11350a5f9fa4cdf17aa67/original/fullsizerender-31.jpg?1497116599" class="size_l justify_center border_" /> Photo by Robert Saulnier<br> </p>
<p><strong>"Life is an adventure of our own design, intersected by fate in a series of lucky and unlucky accidents.” </strong></p>
<p><strong> -spoken word from Patti Smith’s "Dream of Life" film. <br><br>DETOUR</strong></p>
<p><br><strong>Bumpity bump, bump, bump. Sometimes what looks like a roadblock turns out to be a life saver. That’s a lesson I’ve learned repeatedly over the years. The trick, I guess, is to stay focused on the big picture, and keep moving, without getting too attached to a particular route or timeline. </strong></p>
<p><strong>Easier said than done. Like anyone, I can get frustrated or frightened when the ride gets rocky. Some months bring bodily aches and pains; others bring big, fat financial strains. Then there are those break-ups and break-downs, accidents big and small, betrayals and disappointments ten-feet-tall. But throughout it all, Life keeps inching along, winking through the cracks of my resistance, reminding me that beauty and blessings can wear some pretty strange masks. “Look again,” Life whispers. </strong></p>
<p><strong>Admittedly, the ride has been particularly bumpy for a while due to a long string of construction projects in our apartment building and on our street. Jackhammers and drills: definitely not my favourite soundtrack. Is it a convenient or comfortable time to move? Not at all. But, as I’ve learned, that’s not a good reason to stay. </strong></p>
<p><strong>Some years back, I very reluctantly left a beloved home for similar reasons. At the time, I couldn’t understand why I was being so aggressively pushed out by endless construction. But, when I ran into a neighbour from that street later on, I found out there had been a huge fire in the building after I left - which is when I realized: the disruption that displaced me might have actually saved me. “Listen closer,” Life whispers. </strong></p>
<p><strong>This time, I hear you, Life. Loud and clear. I’m not where I’m meant to be. So, yes, we’re packing it up and pushing on. But, in the meantime, last Sunday, my sweetheart and I stepped away from our mess of work and boxes to enjoy a few hours of blessed goofy fun. As the above photo attests, this mini mental holiday helped me to reconnect with the big picture and remember some of the things that make my heart soar. </strong></p>
<p><strong>Yes, I still have some songs left in me. One of them is called "Detour." When will I record it? Don’t know yet. I’m not ready to worry about the how and when. What I do know is that I love to create and sing, and to connect with others through the ritual of concert. In other words, I’m looking forward to settling into our new home so we can get on with the show. </strong></p>
<p><strong>This is a promise that gets me out of bed in the morning and continues to pull my hand across the pages of my journal - even on the bumpiest days. It’s a big part of my big picture, and it feels good to be reminded, detours and all. </strong></p>
<p><strong>Keep dreaming, </strong></p>
<p><strong>Kimberly</strong></p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/4691063
2017-04-30T12:40:28-04:00
2017-04-30T13:56:22-04:00
Making Musical Memories
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/8a9b18798ae1c75efe2c9c05703e44849c76abc1/original/dsc-4669-copy.jpg?1493569189" class="size_l justify_center border_" /> <span class="font_small">Photo by Kalina Veleva</span><br><br>I took a little trip down memory lane this weekend and sifted through my Kimberly & the Dreamtime photo archives. I’m reminded of how blessed I’ve been to work with so many fine musicians over the years. </p>
<p>Robert Saulnier, Nick Truchi, Claude Hurtubise, Raymond Newton, Martin Saint, Julie Abel, Carole Senécal, Émilie Bernard, Scott Diffee, Daniel Loyer, Richard Ranger, Daniel Zanella, Jerry Catanescu, Myles Hildebrand, Norman Nawrocki, Shoukry Aboulehaf, Sean Madden, and Gonzalo Meza: </p>
<p>Each one of you has added to the magic of this project, helping to shape the sound of the band—live or in studio. You’re all rock stars, my friends. </p>
<p>A special shout-out goes to guitarist Martin Saint who, in recent years, helped rearrange songs according to the lineup—be it for the two of us as an acoustic act, or for the full band. You breathed fresh energy into older songs like Rock Candy and Hotel, and your influence, along with that of producer Bill Szawlowski, is palpable on the Heart Wave recordings. </p>
<p>I also raise my hat to Claude Hurtubise and Nick Truchi for their contributions at the launch concerts last November. Somehow, in a very short window of time, you managed to prepare the songs in such a way that honoured the musicians who came before you while adding your own colours to the mix. No small task. <br><br>I’ve uploaded a bunch of pics—old and new—to my website as mementos of this wild journey. Check out the slideshow I’ve created to honour these treasured memories.<br><br> <a contents="KIMBERLY AND THE DREAMTIME: MAKING MUSICAL MEMORIES" data-link-label="Gallery" data-link-type="page" href="/gallery">KIMBERLY AND THE DREAMTIME: MAKING MUSICAL MEMORIES</a><br><br>Looking forward to making more. </p>
<p>À suivre, </p>
<p>Kimberly</p>
<p> </p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/4462700
2016-11-11T16:13:29-05:00
2016-11-11T18:01:19-05:00
That Night I Met Leonard Cohen in a Dingy Dreamtime Diner
<p><br><span class="font_large"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/e07239706961c1d253bf461cd6e9115858888379/original/fullsizerender-22-copy.jpg?1478899814" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br>A few years ago, I had one of those dreams you never forget:</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em>It's late at night and I'm driving on an unfamiliar highway. I'm worried about getting lost so decide to pull over to a service station and ask for directions. There doesn’t seem to be anyone at the counter to help, so I walk into an adjoining roadside diner and plunk myself down in a booth. A man comes in and sits next to me, an older gentleman whose beautifully tailored suit contrasts sharply with our dingy surroundings. You guessed it: this man is Leonard Cohen. </em></span></p>
<p><span class="font_large"><em>No words are exchanged, but Cohen’s energy is warm, reassuring, and generous. He has that mischievous twinkle in his eye—the kind he gets when he’s about to drop one of his depression-soaked jokes. In this case, an inside joke. He discretely slips me a small package under the table. A gift. Inside this tiny box is the most exquisite and elegant pair of diamond earrings I’ve ever seen. <br><br> ******************************</em></span><br> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">You are an artist’s artist, Leonard Cohen, the kind that makes me want to revisit my drafts and try harder, to polish each line until it sparkles like diamonds in a dusty old diner. Your deep dusky voice has soothed some of my darkest hours, refilling my pen with black inky purpose. You’ve kept me reaching for higher versions of myself, even when I’m lost. Especially when I’m lost. You’ve beckoned me off the beaten track, taught me to seek out the sacred gifts in sadness-swollen nights. You’ve shown me despair’s ornate offerings. You’ve led me to look for love in all the wrong places—reminding me there are no wrong places when it comes to love, only myopic hearts. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Thank you, Leonard Cohen, for all your poetry gems. You have been, and will continue to be, one of my finest teachers. I will never speak of you in the past tense. Your musical diamonds dangle from my ears as I wish you safe travels. I doubt you’ll be needing a map since you're the master at finding filaments of light, even on the darkest of nights. I trust you’ll follow those threads, dear friend, allowing bright beams of beauty to find and fill your ears, forever and ever, Amen. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Until we meet again: sweet dreams. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">Kimberly</span></p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/3925823
2015-11-18T13:39:10-05:00
2021-08-06T14:25:24-04:00
SOLSTICE STAR PROPHECY
<p><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/a236302aa6dd68de17d2e75fc9a063bd08be5bf1/original/chandelier.jpg?1447871827" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br><span class="font_large">It’s true… December days can feel too short. Seems you’ve barely finished your lunchtime latte, and already the shadows are carpeting Montreal sidewalks, the wind whisking another day under the rug. Until December 21, that is… What better time to fire up a little mistletoe mojo than Winter Solstice Eve? Sitting still, the sun will soon slip us a seductive smile that says: “I’m coming home.”</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">With the holidays brewing, I propose we jingle-bell-rock the socks off one of the darkest nights of the year and celebrate the return of the light. LOWER THE STARS and J.P. MORTIER will be joining KIMBERLY AND THE DREAMTIME for this lustrous soirée, tripling your sonic satisfaction. All that’s needed to complete this rock ’n’ roll ritual is YOU. Yes, that’s right: YOU. Each and every one of your smiles will add to the glow at Casa del Popolo, so, on Monday, December 21, 2015, please join us for a night that burns through the dark like a chic chandelier.</span></p>
<p><span class="font_large">See you in the shimmer,</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span class="font_large">Kimberly</span><br><br><strong>December 21, 2015<br><br>Celebrate Winter Solstice Eve with<br><br>KIMBERLY & THE DREAMTIME (full band!)<br>plus:<br>J.P. Mortier <br>Lower the Stars <br><br>Casa del Popolo<br>4871, boul. St-Laurent<br>Doors at 7 pm. <br><br>Advance tickets $8 </strong><br><br><a contents="Buy advance tickets here" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.lfttckt.com/tickets/lfttkt-casa-1443549350-17824">Buy advance tickets here</a><br><br><strong>$10 at door<br><br><a contents="To join the Facebook Event" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1486495968323690/">To join the Facebook Event</a></strong><br> </p><br>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/3881964
2015-10-04T11:32:53-04:00
2017-01-14T16:24:03-05:00
SUPERMOON MAGIC
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/b6ce6e339cddd04791d3cc7eae58852faf1c84f9/original/fullsizerender-15.jpg?1443992224" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br><br><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Who doesn’t love a little moon magic?</span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">On September 26, 2015, I was invited to read some poems at BBAM! Gallery in Montreal for an event hosted by Akim Kermiche: La couleur des mots. What better occasion to try out a new piece I’d been working on for a while, but which only came together that week. As mentioned on stage, some poems take a day to write; others take a year…. While this one, entitled “Reckless,” had had a lengthy gestation period, the timing of its first presentation felt perfect. It was the eve of the Super Blood Moon Eclipse—an excellent opportunity for transformation through reaching deep within. Sharing a poem that explores life’s cycles and “rocks the bottom, another ocean floor” felt like an apt way to honour this rare occasion.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">“Reckless” is the second of three poems presented in the video I've included here </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">(see 4:52)</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">. The first piece, “La machine à mots,” which I read in French, is by Brigitte Therien, a poet featured that day and whose work I was pleased to discover </span><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;">(see 1:00)</span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">. The third piece, “Release Party,” is another one of mine, which you may recognize from the Kimberly and the Dreamtime album </span></span><span class="font_regular"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">(see 8:56</span></span><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">). You can find the words for "Release Party" here on my website (under ABOUT - Words).</span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Wishing you much love and wonder this fall, I thank you for listening. </span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Here’s to life’s rituals, rhythms, and rotations.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Keep dreaming,</span><br><br><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Kimberly</span></span></p>
<div> </div>To view the video on Youtube, click on this link: <a contents="VIDEO: KIMBERLY BOURGEOIS reads poetry at BBAM! Gallery" data-link-label="" data-link-type="url" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qNA3YxF9TBk">VIDEO: KIMBERLY BOURGEOIS reads poetry at BBAM! Gallery<br><br><iframe class="justify_inline" data-video-type="youtube" data-video-id="qNA3YxF9TBk" data-video-thumb-url="http://img.youtube.com/vi/qNA3YxF9TBk/0.jpg" type="text/html" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qNA3YxF9TBk?rel=0&wmode=transparent&enablejsapi=1" frameborder="0" height="200" width="320" allowfullscreen="true"></iframe></a>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/3775105
2015-07-12T17:33:06-04:00
2022-03-02T11:35:16-05:00
A THOUSAND WORDS
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/b806da76aceeba6f76df9891ef7454079a1c6855/original/11128129-10153260614050923-686058787-o.jpg?1436736403" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/c05478bff4a9dfa294c01a17be5bdba57d9fa111/original/11647392-10153313547360923-846636406-n.jpg?1436736428" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><span class="font_large">They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I gather this is particularly true when the person behind the camera is as adept as Bruce Toombs at helping his subject to unfold. </span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I’m usually fidgety before photographers, but the generous amount of time Bruce allotted to preparing for our recent shoot helped me let down my guard. Bruce met with me in advance to discuss the project, listened to my music, read my lyrics, and even came out to photograph the band during one of our shows. Not only did this process help me flesh out the concept for my next release, but it paid off with a batch of photos that support the sonic stories I’d like to tell.</span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica; min-height: 13px;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Beyond his obvious technical skills and talent as a photographer, Bruce has an open spirit and a playful, creative edge that come through in his work. His enthusiasm is infectious, making collaboration fun, and his photography is infused with unique depth and mood thanks to the sensitivity he brings to the task. Above are a few samples from our shoot. More will come as we get into recording mode! </span></span></p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/3602284
2015-03-15T11:25:00-04:00
2017-01-14T16:24:03-05:00
QUI JE SUIS. AUJOURD'HUI.
<p><br><span style="letter-spacing: 0px; color: rgb(50, 51, 51); font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; font-size: 14px;">Stuff speaks to us. Sometimes it says nice things; sometimes it fills subconscious ears with tired, limiting tunes about your own worth or prospects, hindering evolution towards higher versions of yourself.</span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 14px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: rgb(50, 51, 51);"><br><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I’m back in clutter-clearing mode. Having moved three times in four years, I’ve had no choice but to radically pare down my possessions. Yet, somehow, this still doesn’t feel like enough. The process has made me hyper-aware of how inner and outer worlds mirror each other. This year, I’m letting go because I feel like it, not because I have to.</span><br> </p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 14px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: rgb(50, 51, 51);"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I’ve begun my spring cleaning, parting with those objects which no longer reflect my new goals and visions. Making space for fresh music, ideas, and art projects. Celebrating by smudging freshly cleaned corners with sage, heightening the ritual and speeding up the spell. Switching my focus forward. Choosing consciously who I want to become, rather than letting “who I’ve been” shape my every heartbeat. It’s amazing how getting rid of even one object, or cleaning out a single drawer, can shift the rhythm of a room—and by extension, your life. </span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 14px; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue'; color: rgb(50, 51, 51);"><br><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">Feeling a little lighter already. Younger even. This is me. Loving today.<br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/c2915c61c41bb0e695e4fed24603e0e0ebdf63dc/original/photo-on-2015-03-14-at-7-41-pm-3.jpg?1426433001" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/3364858
2014-12-05T12:32:44-05:00
2017-01-14T16:24:03-05:00
GAMBLERS' HEAVEN
<br>Performance pushes me right up to the ledge. Hanging off a cliff invokes an incomparably heightened kind of focus. Time slows down, yet passes in a flash while I scale skyscraper songs. Gamblers’ Heaven. It’s on. <br><br><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/37e13cb94cf345ddad7896d7b0a05b61b706c2a5/original/dsc-4720.jpg?1417800710" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></span></span><br><br> <p> </p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/3240796
2014-10-20T11:28:13-04:00
2017-01-14T16:24:03-05:00
THIS BLISS
<span class="font_regular">It’s that quiet moment after rehearsal, when the energy of the last song still hangs in the air like stardust, and I’m falling back in love with the mystical ritual we call music.</span>
<p><span class="font_regular">Sometimes, while caught up in the logistics of producing shows, it’s easy to lose sight of this love. The million and one details and emails, the self-promotion predicament, the budgets that don’t balance—these can blur my heart’s eye. Yet, it’s always the music that wipes the lens clean, winning me over again with crystal-ship visions and verse. </span></p>
<p><span class="font_regular">It’s that mysterious telepathy that transpires between players, that collective croon that breathes coherence into sound (and, for a few minutes, seemingly the whole universe), colouring a moment this way or that, tainting the ephemeral with a new memory—it seduces me every time, luring me back into the game. It’s in these moments that I must pinch myself. I can hardly believe my luck. This, Kimberly, is your life. Could you have planned it any better? This beauty, this drop-dead gorgeous mixed blessing of a life, is undeniably yours. For better or for worse.<br><br>And in this quiet moment after rehearsal, still soaked in the last song’s stardust, I am so in love I cannot imagine not being in love, and, once again, find myself wanting to share this bliss with the world.</span><br><br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/d9b62505d1f2dfa07dcca0734e49ac3980881023/original/photo-30.jpg?1413818789" class="size_l justify_center border_" /></p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/3098077
2014-07-25T10:25:04-04:00
2017-01-14T16:24:03-05:00
Strings of Imagination: E, A, D, G, B, E
<br><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/2154a7da7d64d84aec5136d103eda157070ec5c1/original/guitar.jpg?1407175532" class="size_l justify_center border_" /><br> <p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 11px; font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="font_large"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px">I am reinventing myself again. It’s time to forge fresh circuits in my brain. A change of sonic scenery is helping as I get back to the basics of guitar. Starting over is at once humbling and liberating. I’m surrendering to meditative motions, feeling the sweet simplicity of single notes swell into a scale or pattern. My fingers mindfully stretch across frets, as though reaching for the next bead on a rosary. Musical mantras quiet the intellect, crack open spirit in tones and semi-tones. Neural networks are fortified. I’m hearing new colours, a persuasive palette of poems forming in the mouth of an electric guitar, strings of imagination waking, a swirl of serendipity singing.</span></span><br> </p>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/675013
2013-05-04T09:17:11-04:00
2013-05-04T09:17:11-04:00
BLUEPRINTS
BLUEPRINTS<br><br type="_moz"><!--StartFragment--><p class="MsoNormal">There is just so much of it. Songs written, released, performed. Poems, essays, articles published. Paintings and photographs fading in the sun. So many works still cowering in boxes, bundled up in stage fright. Their ribbons have come loose. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am moving in less than a month. Beginning to sift through closets, drawers. My windows are open. I’m letting my skeletons out for a dance. Looking back at older work, I can now map out my obsessions. They’ve all led me here. And they will lead me “here” again (and again and again). In retrospect, I can see that my younger self already knew exactly who I was becoming. Those early essays and poems were the blueprints. </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am slightly bewildered as I look around. Where does one put it all? Retiring would seem like the practical choice. Stop producing stuff I have no room for. And yet, somehow, I feel like I’ve barely begun. I can’t help it / <i>C</i><i>’est plus fort que moi.</i><span style="font-style:normal"> I am praying the world will stretch. <p></p></span></p>
<!--EndFragment-->
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/273796
2013-01-01T17:26:45-05:00
2017-01-14T16:24:03-05:00
Dionysus Too
<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/fe5c623445b124774a14d34a0880777cd1b7b014/medium/photo-1.JPG?1380724888" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="224" width="300" /> <br><br><!--StartFragment--><p class="MsoNormal"><b> <!--StartFragment-->
</b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia;
color:#181818">“Dancing is not just getting up painlessly, like a leaf blown on the wind; dancing is when you tear your heart out and rise out of your body to hang suspended between the worlds.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>- Rumi</span></p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p></p>
<!--EndFragment--> <br><br>
TRUE STORY<br><br> by Kimberly Bourgeois<br><br><br>
2:05 A.M.<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Montreal trees </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">think no one</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">is watching</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">dance stark naked,</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">get drunk on spirits</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">2013 kisses</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">shook loose</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">on new year’s day</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">true story</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was there</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Dionysus too.</p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p></p>
<div style="text-indent: 48px;"> </div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"> </p><p></p>
<!--EndFragment--> <br><br type="_moz">
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/241557
2012-10-27T11:25:00-04:00
2012-10-27T11:25:00-04:00
FALLING
<br><font class="Apple-style-span" size="4"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px;"> <!--StartFragment-->
<p class="MsoNormal">I like this dull kind of day, the city’s sharp edges disappearing behind a smokescreen of fog. Outnumbered by apartment towers, the trees shiver a little in the autumn wind. They stand half-naked, brave enough to shed all outer appearances. </p>
<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The earth will outlive our ego. Concrete, bricks, mortar—our inflexible attempts at permanence, almost endearing in their naïveté. This hammering industry of <i>more</i><span style="font-style:normal"> is at once nailing itself down, while racing ahead. Big-shot bloating. Gloating. Buses, planes, trucks, cars—cell phones—all rushing to take us somewhere, somewhere other than here. But we </span><i>are</i><span style="font-style:normal"> still here. Heavy with fear. And hunger.<p></p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Today, the trees bend and dance their dying dance, shaking it all loose, letting go. I love their skeleton shimmy, their leaves littering sidewalks like burnt offerings. They make their own music, too. It rustles softly beneath our unconscious clamor, sounds like freedom, gently exhaled. Their songs, like sleepy dreams, are dying to be reborn. Their songs are falling all over forever.</p>
<p></p>
<!--EndFragment--> </span></font>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/208681
2012-09-03T06:22:58-04:00
2018-02-25T15:54:39-05:00
Back-to-School Blog: Extra-Curricular Musings on Music and Art
<img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/dc79b55e96a462b55f5d73a9f95f388801f2dfdc/medium/photo-violon-copy.JPG?1380724888" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="402" width="300" /><br>
The Violinist - by Kimberly Bourgeois<br><br><br><style type="text/css">p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style><p class="MsoNormal">Based on a musical performance I saw in a Montreal bar, this painting dates back many years.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My art teacher at the time had parallel artistic pursuits as the singer of a band that shared her passion for improvisation. One night, she invited her students to attend a show. She encouraged us to bring along our sketchbooks, as she had a particular exercise in mind. There were only a couple of us who showed up for this extra-curricular activity, so I was glad for the semi-private instruction. I sat near the stage, and accepted her assignment: Remaining true to the experimental spirit of the band’s performance, I was to draw what I saw/heard/experienced without ever looking down at the pages of my book.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I remember how my teacher’s vocals chirped and fluttered playfully like birds in a bath. Flaunting their freedom, they flew off in previously undreamed directions, weaving their way through colourful guitar and violin expressions. Suddenly the stage was a windfall of bright plumage rubbing up against rainbows of sound.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The results of that drawing session were unexpectedly fun, and opened me up to a new way of working. I held on to a sketch of the band’s violinist, later incorporating it in a painting that now hangs in my parents’ home.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In retrospect, I think those sketches were my favourites made within the context of that course. Interestingly, they were among the few born outside the studio-classroom. I love that this series took root in a gritty bar on the Plateau Mont-Royal, thanks to the visceral immediacy of live music.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At that time, I didn’t know yet that I’d one day be crafting my own melodies, sharing them on stages much like the one my teacher’s band lit up. I was still taking notes—my future songs like sketches in my heart. Something was taking shape, but I had yet to look down at the page.</p>
<br><br type="_moz">
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/204736
2012-08-25T06:25:13-04:00
2012-08-25T06:25:13-04:00
On the Road Again
<style type="text/css">p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style><p class="MsoNormal">Got up early this morning. It’s Saturday. A day off. My body is adjusting to the schedule of a new full-time job, to buttering the margins of morning with music and poetry.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This morning’s dreams were full of travel: a taxi cab, a stormy highway, a hotel. I'm in transition.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I picked up my guitar and found that a line from a song I’ve been working on wasn’t quite right. I’m seeing things in a new light. The morning light.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Dug up dictionaries, pen and journal. Pushed deeper into the day, willing my hand across a white page—that wintry highway in my dreams.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This song will outlive the storm.</p>
<span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times;">This song will travel.</span>
Kimberly & the Dreamtime
tag:kimberlyandthedreamtime.com,2005:Post/198682
2012-08-10T10:05:00-04:00
2017-01-14T16:24:02-05:00
Follow the Yellow Brick Road
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<p class="MsoNormal">I am an explorer.</p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">I take pleasure in many modes of travel, including music, writing, painting, dancing…<span style=""> </span>Each avenue offers a unique opportunity for expression.</p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">What I particularly love about painting—perhaps because it’s non-verbal—is that it’s easier for me to get beyond intellect and resist all temptation to plan ahead. I just let instinct follow emotions’ lead. <i>Don’t worry where you’ll wind up, just go. You’ll see when you get there. Trust.</i></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">Mindfulness tags along, but she is light on her feet—the perfect dance partner for the unconscious. They are complicit in their naked improvisations, making up the rules as they go. It’s back and forth, skip, twirl, dip, repeat in whichever order you like, <i>and</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span><i>follow that yellow brick road…</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">On the rare occasions that intellect tries to barge in, the unconscious reasserts itself: coffee gets spilled; the wind upsets a dirty paintbrush carelessly left teetering on the edge of the page; India ink splatters in my rush to open the container… Happy accidents call me back to the unknown, and I can see once again with a child’s eyes. Everything is new and unpredictable.</p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">I delight in dipping my fingers into cool creamy pots of acrylics, and sometimes I enjoy cutting up cardboard, magazines, bubble wrap, the netting that oranges are sold in—anything that feels interesting—and gluing texture to my canvas. I like that the word <i>relief</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> in French is spelled the same as the English “relief.” </span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">My paintings may not always be pretty, but I can guarantee you that they are honest—which may be why they come to me as such sweet relief. It feels good to tell the truth, especially when truth only reveals itself as you are telling it.</p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">This painting, I made several years ago, right after I got home from the movie theatre. I had just seen Denys Arcand’s Les Invasions Barbares. The film offers many poignant scenes in which the protagonist, Rémy, a terminally ill patient, spends his dying days surrounded by family, past lovers, and friends.</p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">In my own life, it was my hopes for lasting romance that were dying.<span style=""> </span>Summer was slipping into fall, and my lover had just moved to the other side of the country. It was clearly over, but I wanted one last dance before the burial.</p>
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<p class="MsoNormal">As the sun leaked into dusk, I picked up my paintbrushes and let them cry all over the canvas in a liberating, funereal dance. <br><br><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times;">On that autumn afternoon, many years ago, this was my truth:</span><br>
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<p class="MsoNormal"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Times;"><img src="//d10j3mvrs1suex.cloudfront.net/u/54323/689707b9741ab518c871fec8735c32f6d0105fa5/medium/invasions-for-bz-page.JPG?1380724888" class="size_orig justify_inline border_" alt="" height="241" width="300" /><br></span></p>
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Kimberly & the Dreamtime