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BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle
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Subject: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: GUEST,Rich(stupidbodhranplayerwhomisseshisfriend) Date: 07 Mar 00 - 06:32 PM Joe Healy, a good friend of mine and a great storyteller here in Pittsburgh was shot and killed along with several other people last week. He was the type of teller that when he described Mother's kitchen, not only would you smell the pumpkin pie but the the nutmeg would make you sneeze. He could tell any kind of story well, but was particularly fond of wisdom tales. If anyone has any they would like to offer. Reading isn't the same as hearing but still I'd really appeciate it. I know some people probably don't want to see this on here but I believe that storytelling is a relevant folk art (although I'm not very good at it). I rarely start threads of any type on here. If anyone would rather contact me off the 'cat you can reach me at rrayburg@hotmail.com Thanks alot. Rich |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Metchosin Date: 07 Mar 00 - 07:37 PM Rich, I am so sorry to hear of the loss of your friend. Unfortunately I do not have any great storytelling abilities, but Lonesome EJ, McGrath, MMario, kat and others do. Perhaps they can pass a few along. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: McGrath of Harlow Date: 07 Mar 00 - 08:07 PM In a thread called "A loss for us all" about another storyteller who sadly died recently, Dan Keding wrote "Maybe I'll start a thread with some tales on it." I hope he does, because he's a great storyteller.
I think the Mudcat needs stories as well as songs. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Áine Date: 07 Mar 00 - 08:32 PM Dear Rich, I'm am terribly saddened to hear of your loss, and I'm sorry for your troubles. I have a story I got from my father that I could share -- would you mind if it was rather silly? And then, there's a couple completely mad ones that I could tell on my crazy aunts. As the daughter of a wonderful storyteller, I'd be honored to give over space on the Mudcat Songbook website to collect the stories of Mudcatters. Why should we just have a Songbook, when a Songbook and a Storybook would more justly reflect the collective personalties of all the Mudcatters. -- Áine |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Wavestar Date: 07 Mar 00 - 08:42 PM Rich- I'm sorry to hear about your friend... I don't think I ever met Joe, but heard of his reputation on the Story Stage at the Clearwater Festival, and other Storytelling Festivals... All I heard were good things. I've heard so many stories in my life, but I can only ever remember a few... I've been told I'm a good teller, but shy. If I think of anything appropriate, I'll certainly send / post it. -J |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Amos Date: 07 Mar 00 - 08:49 PM Rich: I am sad about the madness that forced you to lose a friend too soon. And about your loss. I don't know any stories that would be appropriate or good enough. But when one come sto me I will forward it along. I like Áine's idea of a Mudcat Story Book. Perhaps she could dedicate it to him. May you heal well, and timely. A |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Áine Date: 07 Mar 00 - 09:05 PM Of course the Mudcat Storybook would be dedicated to Joe Healy and to J.J. Reneaux, the Cajun storyteller that passed just a few days ago. Here's a story that my father used to tell every Halloween – and of course, he swore up and down that it was all true . . . During World War II, my dad was in the Army, stationed at Los Alamos, New Mexico. That's right, the place where they put together the Bomb. Anyway, since he had been a policeman in Waco before he was drafted, he was assigned to 'dog', as he called it, one of the 'fellas' working at the facility. Now, this wasn't really a covert activity, since the 'fella' knew that my dad was following him any time he went off the base. In fact, my dad said that the two of them got to be downright friendly and even shared a few drinks at the local watering hole. My dad even knew this guy's lady friend to say hello to. One night, my dad said this fella started drinking pretty heavy and early, which wasn't like him at all. It was as if there was something terrible on his mind – he sat at the bar, knocking back the whiskies, and muttering to himself about 'having to be there soon.' My dad was getting pretty nervous, because of course, he was going to have report this behavior to his superiors, and he didn't really want to get this guy into any more trouble than he seemed to be in already. Suddenly, this guy jumped off the bar stool and lurches out the door. Dad followed him and sees him drive off down the road. So of course, Dad follows him. The fella was weaving all over the place and then suddenly drove off the main road into the desert. My dad was right behind him, thinking he was going to be bringing a dead drunk back to the base if this guy didn't calm down. The guy's car slammed on its brakes and so did Dad. Dad saw a woman come out of nowhere, open the car door and get in. The guy took off again into the desert, with my dad right behind him. After about ten minutes, the guy slammed on his brakes again and stopped. Dad stopped too, but something told him to stay in his jeep. Nothing happened. This fella and this woman just sat there, not even talking. After a few minutes more, my dad figured it was time to go talk to them and get this guy back to the base. As my dad started to climb out of the jeep, he saw the two heads in the car in front of him slowly turn around and stare at him. He never would say what he saw in that car that night. But he did say that he spent a few weeks peeling potatoes and picking up cigarette butts out of the sand, because he refused to 'dog' that fella ever again. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: katlaughing Date: 07 Mar 00 - 10:21 PM Dear Rich, I am so sorry to hear of this. It may take me a day or two, but I do have some stories of my dad's and my grandmas. I will either put a couple of them in here and/or send you a midi of me telling one or two, that way you can hear the voice, too. There is absolutely nothing wrong with having stories at the Mudcat. Art Thieme, Sandy Paton, Frank Hamilton and many others have posted some wonderful tales. If you'd like, maybe we could have a special date and time for a HearMe storytelling session, like the song circles we are doing on Sundays? Áine, I think that is very generous of you and a marvelous idea to put our stories in there, too! Thank you. Rich, there is a story I wrote in a thread just before Christmas called White Blanket Time. It is a Native American story about the wintertime, which I guess could also be read as an allegory for transition. If you'd like I will email it to you. Not sure if that is the kind of story you are looking for or not. It must be so hard for all of you who knew and loved this man so much. Please know that I will be thinking of you and him often in the days to come. May your heart be eased and memories of good times sustain you in your sorrow. Mitakuye Oyasin (we are all related) kat
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: katlaughing Date: 07 Mar 00 - 10:30 PM I won't post this here as it might be too painful for Rich, but if anyone would like to read a bit more about his friend, Joe Healy, please click here. Sounds as though he was a very special person, Rich. kat |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: wysiwyg Date: 08 Mar 00 - 12:32 AM Rich, I will receive ashes for your friend tomorrow and ask Hardiman to include him in prayers all during Lent, to pray for all who your friend held dear and who must have often been in his prayers. And for his family as well. And you.
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: rainbow Date: 08 Mar 00 - 02:44 AM how does one listen to the sunday songcircle... or talecircle? i'm kind of new... and i am not totally technically savvy. i may be able to dig out a story for ya... a story in honour of a storyteller... its election night. i'm working till midnight reporting the "stories" of the election for folks here... the internet is really changing the way i'm reporting... can't believe i have time to check in here while i'm waiting for the final returns. ... lorraine
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: katlaughing Date: 08 Mar 00 - 08:29 AM Rainbow, watch for a personal message and I will explain it and welcome to the Mudcat! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Dave (the ancient mariner) Date: 08 Mar 00 - 09:06 AM Rich, My sincere condolences on the loss of your friend. Such a tragic death by a random act of violence is beyond words; especially since he is remembered for his compassion and reverence of life. In his memory here is a poem, I do not know the author. Yours,Aye. Dave.
OLD FRIENDS
There are no friends like old friends
No other friends are dearer
There are no friends like old friends
And when they smile to gladden
There are no friends like old friends
And when unconquered sorrows
There are no friends like old friends
And when our faultering footsteps |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Peter T. Date: 08 Mar 00 - 10:30 AM This is so terrible. In the Buddhist tradition, we speak of bodhisattavas, beings whose purpose is to bring all beings to enlightenment in different ways, the differences being the differences in the way the world works. Bodhisattvas come in many forms, animal, human, spirit; and many stories are told of their compassion. I am reminded of one haunting story. A group of travellers is sitting by a fire one night, and one of their number, a storyteller, sees that a king cobra is circling the outside the light of the fireside quietly, waiting for someone to move abruptly so that the snake will know where to strike. The storyteller begins desperately to tell a story, and weaves a magical tale, so spellbinding that no one around the fire moves. As the hours pass, the storyteller becomes more and more tired, because of the terrible effort to keep the story going, to make it continually new, to keep everyone spellbound in the circle of imagination, while the cobra circles just outside, in the darkness. The storyteller knows that if he stops the story, death will strike -- he continues, and continues, and finally, at the end of his strength, he raises his voice and says: "And at this point the storyteller raised his voice and stood up, crying:'Strike me, Death, strike me!" And he did; and it did: and all were saved but the storyteller. I do not know your friend: but was he not perhaps a bodhisattva, keeping his audiences in the light of his stories, struggling every day as he could, as all storytellers do, against the circle of darkness that so mindlessly struck out at him and finally cut him down? yours, Peter T. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Sorcha Date: 08 Mar 00 - 10:58 AM Once, years ago I was in a small town hospital in Longmont,Co. I had to have emergency surgery, and my parents had flown out from Kansas. The morning after the surgery, my Mum and I were sitting in the lobby visiting with a small boy, maybe 10 whose mum was having a baby. We asked him what his Dad did and he relpied proudly, "We raise turkeys". Mom said, "And then you sell them?" (like to slaughter houses). He said, agahst, "OH, NO Ma'm, we don't sell them, we just raise them!" Instant vision of waves of turkeys flowing down the Front Range and engulfing Denver......... So sorry about your loss. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: fulurum Date: 08 Mar 00 - 12:36 PM jackie robinson once said ; a life is not important, except in the impact it has on other lives. your friend joe sounds like he made one hell of an impact in this world. sorry my friend |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Mbo Date: 08 Mar 00 - 12:52 PM Someone once said "Don't try to be a great man. Just try to be a man, and let history decide the rest." --Mbo |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: McGrath of Harlow Date: 08 Mar 00 - 04:49 PM Here's a story I posted a little time back. I suppose it's about the way that we depend on each other more than we sometimes realise, and that seems a fitting thing to remember at a kind of wake.
A story about time
The six o'clock bell was the signal for people to stop work, and start eating their evening meal, and getting ready to go out for the evening, if they were going out, or sitting around and passing the time at home if they were staying home.
Anyway, the evening bell seemed to be a settled part of keeping the place tranquil and easy going. At least that was how it felt to a man from a foreign country who came there for a visit.
So the visitor went up to the castle, and he asked the monk whose job it was to ring the bell "Why does the big bell ring at exactly six o'clock", and the monk whose job it was to ring the bell said that was so that the people in the town would know it was time to have their evening meal, and the monks would know it was time for the evening prayer - and so that everyone would know that things were all right, and the monastery was looking after things.
And he said "And how do you know when it is exactly six o'clock?" and the monk said, "That's not so hard - down in the town there is a small clockmaker's shop on the edge of the town, and in the window there is a fine clock, and it always keeps perfect time. And do you see this spyglass that hangs by the bellrope? If I look through it I can see that clock in the window, and when it says six o'clock, I ring the bell."
So next day the visitor went round to the clockmaker, just before six o'clock, and he saw the clock in the window, and sure enough, as the clock struck six, the bell from the monastery rang out.
So the visitor went into the shop and the clockmaker was there, winding up his clocks. "How do you manage to keep your clocks telling perfect time?" said the visitor.
"Oh that's not so hard," said the clockmaker. "You must be a stranger in town. You see, every day at exactly six o'clock the big bell in the monastery rings out. So I can check that the clocks aren't going fast or slow."
"I see," said the visitor. But he didn't really.
I think Áine's is a great idea, if she can fit in the extra work, or delegate it - it'd mean that stories could come up in threads, and then we could find them later.
And it'd be good to have more story links up in the links section (that makes it easy to bookmark them on persoanal pages). |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: GUEST,Rich(gratefulbodhranplayer...) Date: 08 Mar 00 - 05:24 PM Thank you all very much for taking the time to answer this thread. I have a number of stories to post, and in the near future a number of us here in Pgh are going to have a presentation on "Stories We Stole From Joe". I have friends coming over soon to play some music and need to get ready for them but I'll send some in soon. Rich |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Áine Date: 08 Mar 00 - 05:32 PM Dear Rich and everyone else, I'll be working on the new Mudcat Storybook these next couple of days, and I hope to have it up by Saturday. I'm not going to rush this, so I can make it 'just right.' I'll make a special announcement via another thread when it's ready, so keep an eye out for it. Please start spreading the news and gathering your best stories! Don't worry, McGrath, when it's work from heart, it's no trouble at all. -- Áine
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: MAG (inactive) Date: 09 Mar 00 - 08:58 PM Rich, if you could make a link to the Storytell thread on Joe, people could hop over there to see what was written. I don't know how. -- MA |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: GUEST,The Beanster Date: 09 Mar 00 - 09:24 PM Dear Rich, I've been sitting here trying to think of something I can say to you, but all I can say is, I'm so sorry. I'd give you a hug if I could. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Jacob B Date: 16 Mar 00 - 09:33 AM I received the following information from the League for Advancement of New England Storytelling: In memory of J.J. Reneaux, Cajun storyteller and singer, luminous spirit, and Sharing the Fire '94 keynote who passed away Feb. 29: at J.J.'s and the family's request, a "J.J. Reneaux Young Artist Fund" has been established, where memorial contributions can be made in J.J.'s name. Checks should be made out to the fund name and sent to: Storytelling Foundation International, 116 W. Main St., Jonesborough, TN 37659. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Áine Date: 16 Mar 00 - 09:37 AM Thank you for sharing that information Jacob. What a wonderful way to remember J.J. - or any artist - than to encourage and support others finding their way. I also wanted to let everyone know that I'm still working on the Storybook/Storyteller page and that I'll let everyone know when it's up. -- Áine |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: wysiwyg Date: 16 Mar 00 - 08:00 PM As I pulled out of a driveway today, I finally got a glimpse what a wisdom story might be. I hope the following has at least a lttle of that to it; it's a new way of writing for me. Thanks to all of you whose influence on me has helped this emerge, and for a word or two I may have borried from one of you for it. KATHY'S GARDEN Kathy's garden takes a whole front, back, and side-yard to wander through. Kathy's been adding to it for several years now, and some of the plants will be quite lovely when the warm weather comes to wake them back up. But at this time of year--the muds of March-- what is most apparent in her garden are the thousands of found art objects tucked into it. That's what makes the garden just like Kathy. Kathy's heart is big, although her body is quite small and even her green thumb is small and delicate. In Kathy's heart, and in her wise darkdancing eyes, you can see all of the people she has tucked away to rest in her world. Broken bits of pottery, paper angels, tiny wire sculptures, lovely wooden refuse... and people who've come as they are, all are welcomed and lovingly placed just where they clearly belong. All year, warm or no, Kathy saunters through the meandering paths on her sturdy, do-your-own housework legs, to feel for just the right setting for everything that comes her way. Surely she prays and sings while doing this. All summer, driving by on the two-lane highway that slows down for a quarter mile either side of the house, you can see her out there in her garden. Usually, she's swaying as she makes her way from one patch to the next, rooting out weeds but not the wildflowers that creep out from all the plantings, and adding or rearranging objects. Kathy sways, as does her garden, from harmony to harmony. To walk up her back walk is to be in the Lord's own gallery, and her porch! It isn't just the dozen or more windchimes, either. Her back porch is where she's put the things you want to look at, when you set and rock. Kathy's doorknocker is a regular old brass door knocker, you could get one just like it anywhere. But you have to stop and think a minute the first time you go to use it. It's not on the outside door-- that's a ratty old aluminum storm door, festooned with various scrolls and miscellaneous stickers about Jesus. No, the knocker is plainly visible inside that storm door, on the inner door, just above WAIST HEIGHT. Hmmm... well, yes. Anyone with eyes to look can tell that it would have looked most unwelcoming on the doorframe beside the storm door. And anyway that's where the tapestry pocketbook with a small vase is hung, neatly filling a pretty metal frame that curves gracefully around it. (It would be easy to assume this is the mailbox, and it isn't; that's why the vase fills the pocketbook.) No, the door knocker is actually just right, right there. It must be that guests are to enter in, at least as far as opening the storm door, to knock. Even before you are met at the door, Kathy's door knocker has managed to make you feel welcome. And, there is also that one more scroll plastered inside the frame, only visible if you have gotten that far. Kathy isn't at home today, or she is upstairs in the darkened house resting from her battles. Her mind fights her sometimes, and then she has to regroup. Of course she may just be out roving around loving people and being as much Jesus as they can see. Or she may be at one of the kids' schools, wearing that little lace-doily headcover over her long curly brown hair, being the Mennonite woman she chooses to be, looking puzzled at the latest odd mistreatment the school has directed to someone she loves. Or perhaps today is actually women's Bible study day. You've been years now, absent from the group. Until you get to Kathy's, you don't remember that today could well have been a day to go where it is probably still held, and find not only Kathy but a kitchenful of praisesong, laughter, tough prayer, and free expression of the most womanly feelings one might have. Kathy's car is there, but often her car is not working and she rides with someone else. If she's home, and resting, though, you know that you are just what Jesus ordered for Kathy-- so a third loud knock is in order, as is waiting longer than one might otherwise to see if Kathy peers out. The smile that will burst from her lovely face at your return is worth waiting for. You stand patiently, remembering all the delights inside Kathy's house. Her kitchen window curtains aren't curtains at all, if you look slowly... they are a collection of antique infant-sized pinafores, strung on a rod. On one day's visit, Kathy had, just that very morning, splurged and bought a whole orphanage of little babydolls to crowd into an old cracked valise and set out in her living room. Their dear little heads, all in a jumbled row, already peeked out from the valise. Kathy's laugh was low and sweet, husky from all her singing, as she admitted that despite a house past overflowing with her own children and those she's taken in, there just weren't enough babies in the family left to cuddle, and, well, she'd decided to spurge on these cuddlings instead. She'd thought about taking another fosterling, but... the time wasn't right. You'd have to know how dirt-poor her family is, on Herb's income alone, to understand how badly her arms must have ached for babies. Not even all the babies at the church he pastors out of love, not even all the babies of her many finds, were enough. But there is to be no Kathy today, only Kathy's garden, her porch, her crazy and perfectly elegant doorknocker, and your memories of past visits. You would like to leave a note, but have no paper or pen. You look over the porch-- surely Kathy would have a notepad around for the convenience of her many visitors? But no. You would use a piece of chalk and write on the door, but frail, autistic Davy, whose kingdom this porch really is, won't have left any out at this time of year. But you are sure you were to give something of yourself to Kathy this day, or maybe to receive something-- more likely, both, with Kathy. That much was clear from the moment your heart impelled you there from miles away, that was what took you past missing her all the way to her porch! That's what you wondered at while you drove the road you drive all the time, but this time knowing to stop. You haven't figured out why you were meant to go there today (you haven't tried), but you know she needs to know you were there... You remember the most beautiful object you saw as you walked up the path-- a deep red chunk of stone, or marble? Or pottery was it? You keep seeing the deep red... you marked it as you passed, giving thanks for its being there to be seen.... And you notice the bright red-- clear red-- scarf you are wearing, the impossibly red, full, rich, extravagant-looking scarf that is really like a churchman's stole. Its redshining threads catch the bright gray noontime light-- and then you know just what to do. You really love this scarf, you made it yourself, you put the little red tassels on it, it is always admired... and you take it off, and you hang it from the pretty metal frame beside the door, under the tapestry pocketbook that has bits of red on the front of it. And you say God Bless you, Kathy, as you leave. For you have received all you needed, from Kathy's garden.
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: katlaughing Date: 16 Mar 00 - 09:43 PM My dear Praise, that was truly worth the weight. Just beautiful and heart-touching. Thank you, wisewomon. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Hollowfox Date: 23 Mar 00 - 04:12 PM I just found this at work, in the Library Journal's Library Hotline (March 20). It seems that Joseph Healy had just finished a storytelling session at a Head Start (childcare) Center when he died. I only hope I'm doing something that worthwhile when my time comes. You know, one of the really good things about this forum is that you can share your joys and sorrows with people that know and understand who/what you're talking about. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: katlaughing Date: 23 Mar 00 - 06:18 PM Thanks for that HF. Don't we all hope to be giving so much. |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: GUEST,Rich(stupidbodhranplayer.......) Date: 23 Mar 00 - 06:28 PM A friend of mine passed this on to me. Once there was a story, told back and forth amongst friends. It was a simple tale, but the story didn't care, so long as it was told. One day it was told to a travelling merchant who took it with him when he left the town, but the story didn't care so long as it was told. In its travels one day the story was told to a harper, who put the story to verse. It was sung from stages great and small, as well as around hearths, at the cradle and all over. And still it was a simple tale, and just happy to be told. ONe day it was sung to a holy man. It then took on a whole new life. People began to look to the story for answers. Some based their diet on it. Others took to the road to tell it further. The story was pleased to be told so often but still it was a simple tale and didn't care so long as it was told. Eventually, it came to the attention of the king. The king wasn't all that pleased with all the attention that was being paid to the story(and hence not to him, by thunder!). He declared anyone telling the story would be put to death! Thus began a time of persecution, but still the tale was told, now in hushed voices behind closed doors. Once again the story didn't care, so long as it was told. It was a simple tale. Well years have gone by and the story has traversed the globe many times over, until it came to the my friend Scott, who gave it to me. And now I've given it to you. ANd still its just a simple tale that only wants to be told.
Rich |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: wysiwyg Date: 26 Feb 01 - 02:35 PM Another great thread. Refreshed in memory of Joe Healy. Great story here by McGrath of Harlow too, and I dunno if Aine has grabbed it yet. Mine here is still not ready yet. Kathy has to see it first. Aine has been hard on herself for not getting the storyteller's page going, but truth was, I was the delay. She had asked me to post the first one and I held it up, not comfortable with the things I had said about Kathy without asking her. Now I know it will be OK, so I will submit it soon. So Aine, no fair with the mea culpas, dear. ~S~
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Áine Date: 26 Feb 01 - 03:13 PM Dear Weezie, Thanks for refreshing this thread - and taking some of the guilt off my shoulders ;-) about not setting up the Storytellers' Page sooner. But, it's up now and I know we'll be seeing some great stories from all you 'Catters. Another reason I'm glad you've refreshed this thread is that it gives me a chance to tell Rich that the Storytellers' Page is dedicated to the memory of his friend, Joseph Healy, and the wonderful Cajun storyteller, J.J. Reneaux. And yes, McGrath's wonderful A Story About Time is indeed already included in the Book. -- Áine |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Rich(bodhránai gan ciall) Date: 26 Feb 01 - 07:04 PM Thanks, Wysiwyg and Áine. There was just mention of the upcoming anniversary of the Wilkinsburg shootings on the news this morning. A real kick in the chest that I didn't need before my first cup of coffee. Ont he positive side, that incident and another shooting spree collectively helped get a lot of anti-hate programs rolling, better late than never! Go raibh maith agat, arís, mo chairde! Risteard |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: wysiwyg Date: 26 Feb 01 - 08:12 PM Rich, do you know the Jewish custom of Jahrzeit? My understanding is that it is the custom of reading the names of the departed each week, whoever's anniversary of passing it is... so that they are never forgotten. So that they are always celebrated as having been members of the community, interwoven forever. I would hope that seeing everyone's words of last year, once again, brought you more comfort than pain, and that finding the thread back up today helped against the pre-coffee lurch. By sharing your grief last year, here, you gave the Mudcat the gift of stories. You blessed us all, sweetie. And ya know what. Someday I bet we'll get a chance to jam together. Whaddaya think, amped-to-the-max electric autoharp and bodhran, striding along as loud and powerful as possible? You up for it? ~Susan |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Rich(bodhránai gan ciall) Date: 26 Feb 01 - 10:00 PM I hadn't heard of that custom. that sounds nice With regards to electric autoharp and loud as possible bodhrán, I usually try to play quietly underneath everything, but I'll try anything once. ;-) Rich |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: wysiwyg Date: 26 Feb 01 - 11:05 PM Well, you could try playing just under the autoharp, but two things come to mind. First, Hardi would wonder what you're doing, since I play tabletop! And second, even playing just under the volume, you'd still have to go pretty darn loud. I'd be sitting there grinning my ass off! ~S~ |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Áine Date: 27 Feb 01 - 08:40 AM By sharing your grief last year, here, you gave the Mudcat the gift of stories. You blessed us all, sweetie. -- How true, dear Weezie. Rich, I share Weezie's thought, which reminded me of something my mother, beannacht Dé uirthi, used to say - A burden shared is a burden lifted. And can I join the party with my mandolin? That is, when I learn how to play it ;-) ? So, I don't mind if y'all turn up the volume to 11 (hahahaha)! -- Áine |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: wysiwyg Date: 27 Feb 01 - 09:08 AM Aine, I can't speak for Rich, but if you are going to wait till you think you can play it, you will not fit in at ALL. No, the thing is to play as loud as possible ANYWAY so that it inspires me to beat out the rhythm even more strongly to pull you along... we just go right over the top after that. Thrash folk. Ah, nope... you'd probably sweeten us up, like a wacky angel. Well, alright then, yer in. Don't tell Hardi if yer electric tho-- unless you have it handcuffed to your wrist. He played with an electric one at a shop the other day and now I am very, very afraid. His Zeta urge seems to be sublimating in a dangerous direction. ~S~ |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Rich(bodhránai gan ciall) Date: 27 Feb 01 - 07:08 PM I head it as "pain shared is pain lessened" and it certainly proves true in this case as in many others. Thanks to all of you. Maybe eventually when I actually put enough practice into my mandolin I can bring that too. That way Áine and I can blame our mistakes on each other. This'll be the weirdest session ever! I just wrote a story in Irish for homework in Irish class. Once my teacher goes over it with me and helps me fix whatever idiomatic mistakes I've made, I'll send it in. Class is thursday night, if I'm quick, I can be the first to contribute a story to the Storybook in Gaeilge! Rich |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: GUEST, Susan Dropped Her Cookie Date: 27 Feb 01 - 07:54 PM Rich, if I know our goddess, she will hold that place just for you, come what may. After all, if she doesn't, who knows what you might try to get away with in the weirdest session of all time??? *G* ~S~ |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Áine Date: 27 Feb 01 - 08:54 PM Dearest Rich, I have to say (nó caithfidh mé a rá), that I'd thought about putting a tale or two in Irish in Book myself. But, of course, I will let yourself be the first to have that honour. I would like you to provide a translation in English, so our brothers and sisters that have no Irish here on 'Cat can enjoy your story as well. If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to see your story in the original draft. Tá mé cinte go bhfuil do scéal go hiontach ar fad! You've got my email addy, so you can send it to me that way, since it'll save you typing in the &'s and acute;'s in a PM. And Weezie, I can play plugged or unplugged ;-) And Rich, let's just wail with the mandos, OK? -- Áine (a/k/a The Wacky Angel *BG*) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: wysiwyg Date: 28 Feb 01 - 01:33 AM Aw crap I guess I DO have to learn some Irish, to sing with you two crazies. Sigh.... ~S~
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: CapriUni Date: 16 Aug 01 - 03:16 PM Refreshing this thread for the memory of Joe Healy and all the other storytellers who've made this world what it is, going back to the beginnings of humanity. I truly believe, despite what the "experts" say, that it's not language, per se, that is unique to humans -- its the ritual of storytelling: the interplay between listener and teller, and the energy that flows back and forth between them (like a shuttle on a loom, weaving the tapestry of our culture). I've search the Digitrad Database for songs about "Stories" (ad variations of that keyword) and "Storytellers", and was quite surprised when it returned with 0 results. Can anyone recommend another search word? Maybe the name of a particular storyteller? Thanks! |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: katlaughing Date: 16 Aug 01 - 03:21 PM Nice refresh. Try putting story or stories or storytelling in the search box at the far left, just baove the names of the threads, so that it searches not only the DT but also this forum. I am sure several threads will come up which may have songs listed. We also have a Mudcatters Story Page thanks to Aine which you can access via the Quick Links drop down menu. I like your theory. The longer I live the more I realise how grateful I am to have been born into a family filled with storytellers. kat PS: I just put stories in the DT search box and several songs came up, not necessarily about stories, but all containing reference to stories of some sort.:-) |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: CapriUni Date: 16 Aug 01 - 09:02 PM Kat Wrote: [PS: I just put stories in the DT search box and several songs came up, not necessarily about stories, but all containing reference to stories of some sort.:-)] Yes, that's what I discovered, too. Mainly though, I'm looking for songs and stories about storytellers. I'm working on trying to design a workshop dedicated to studying myths and wondertales as they are *told* rather than read. When you're reading, it's possible to experience a story in isolation, but it's impossible when a story is *told*. There has to be at least 2 people, and a the relationship between them (and a relationship with the envirnment in which the story is told). As I said, I believe oral storytelling is as much a part of being human as our opposable thumbs and our unique tounges and vocal folds that let us say "OOOoooh!!" (we're the only animals on the planet that can do that -- cows do not go "moo"!) But now, most of our stories are frozen into print before we ever experience them. And those stories that remain primarily oral are not considered "real". I can't help but wonder what sort of imbalance this causes in our brains and our societies. Hence the workshop. And I'd like to break it up between talking and *doing* and songs seem like they might be a good transition ... And I did check Aine's Story Page -- love it! (particularly the story about a story) I have a couple of my own I may submit, too... There's an Irish tale I want to start off with, but I'm bedeviled by the names -- can't figure out how to pronounce them! But now that I know Aine speaks Irish... ;-) Joys aplenty! Ann |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: Jacob B Date: 17 Aug 01 - 11:12 AM CapriUni, I think you've just turned this into a music thread, because what you're saying is music to my ears ;-) The storytelling revival is going strong in many places. Where are you located? |
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Subject: RE: BS: Request; tales in memory of a storytelle From: CapriUni Date: 17 Aug 01 - 01:54 PM Jacob: Glad I could send your mind dancing ;-)... though considering the percentage of folksongs that are ballads, the line between story/telling/ and story/singing/ has /always/ been fuzzy. If I recall correctly (and I may not), the meter Homer used in his epics was based on a dance rhyhm. And even in stories that are primarily told, there are often passages that are sung, especially if it's a call and answer between teller and audience. I live in Chesapeake VA, btw. My main focus for this workshop will be storytelling as a magical, ritual act, and one that can reestablish our bonds with nature, so I'm aiming this at the local Pagan community. Maybe from there, I will branch out and get involved with the general storytelling community... (I may be going about it backwards, but that's nothing new for me ;-)) Joys aplenty! |