A History of Music

“Silence is the soul of music.”

The Key of Inspiration

I had my first encounter with music when I was seven or eight.  My mom sang in a choir and would play our piano when she practiced.  In my youthful curiosity, she gave me beginner lessons. This led to being taught by a graduate from the Julliard School of Music.  I have always had an awkward relationship with the piano, lasting to this day.  In my teens, I would occasionally play it in an improvisational way, which sounded much like schizophrenic jazz.  I was not interested in musical structures yet drawn to exploratory sound.  Instead of modern mimicry, I was inspired by the sonic journey of self-expression. 

Wood and Strings

We had an old, acoustic guitar in the house.  Once in a while I would pull it from our closet and pluck on the strings, given its mysticism to me as an instrument.  In grade school, I had brief stints with the recorder and trombone yet drifted from ensemble-based music.  When I was fifteen, I purchased a Lotus electric guitar and an amplifier, then retreated to my bedroom with excited abandon.  It enchanted me in ways distinct from the piano, though through the years I have grown to appreciate the keys.  At the time, I had a stereo system with a record player, and would play along to the Beatles, Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd and many others.

Theme from the Bottom

My brother picked up an old Gibson electric bass guitar.  We never played together, though I would take it from his room, plugging it into my guitar amplifier and playing along with several of my favorite groups.  I was mostly inspired by Paul McCartney, John Klingberg from Van Morrison’s band, Roger Waters and eventually Phil Lesh.  Though I loved the simplicity of the instrument in comparison to the guitar, I was more into its melodic and harmonic elements, discovering a polyrhythmic and tonal style.  All the while, I kept a solid footing with singing and rhythm and lead guitar, occasionally returning to the piano.

Fallen Flower © SoulSun 1998

High Time

My friend played drums in high school, and we would meet at his house in Leland to jam blues, rock and improvisation for hours.  After we graduated, a few of our friends joined us: one on bass, another on rhythm guitar and a second drummer.  We spent the Summers of 1991 and 1992 at our friend’s house, rehearsing on the deck overlooking Lake Leelanau.  We would also gather on Whaleback with our acoustic instruments and play into the wee hours of the morning.  My brother would occasionally join us on vocals, and the zenith of our experience was our first official gig at the Old Art Building in Leland on the 4th of July. 

“Our song is the signature of our soul.”

The Art of Inspiration

I began writing music when I was 19.  After a few years playing with the hometown group, I would move to the Metro-Detroit area and begin performing my original music as a solo artist in coffee shops.  I gravitated toward bluegrass, folk, jazz and improv.  I met a friend in Royal Oak who was a saxophonist and student at Wayne State University.  He had free time in their studio, and we spent our evenings learning how to engineer, produce and record.  I wrote my first musical suite around that time. This became the focus of our recording project.  We also performed together and networked with musicians from around the area.    

Faces of the Moon SoulSun © 1998

SoulSun

A few months later, I met a lead guitarist from a recently separated band.  He invited me to audition for a new group they were putting together.  We settled on the name “SoulSun,” and feverishly practiced for a weekly gig in Greektown, which was to begin in two weeks’ time.  Soon after our residency started, we added some of my music to our rep and in a matter of months, our setlists were built with our songs.  A few months later, we were filling venues and travelling, all while recording our original music.  We eventually disbanded yet came back together a couple of years after to finish the CD and perform at the release party. 

En Fuego

Near the end of SoulSun’s run, I met a percussionist who played Congas.  He would sit in with our group on occasion.  A couple of years later, I would run into him, and he invited me to join a local Latin Jazz Band.  My focus shifted to discovering a different style of music.  During this time, I was also learning traditional Afro-Cuban and Latin percussion, primarily Congas, Cajon and Guira.  After several performances with the Latin Jazz Band, they separated yet I continued to play these instruments, writing music inspired by Caribbean culture.  Over a decade later, I would record them for some of the songs on my CD “Lakshmi.”

The Mountain’s Crown The Pryde The Red Road © 2005

The Pryde

After the Latin Jazz group, I connected with another songwriter who was a graduate of music.  We established an all-original duo, recording multiple genres and performing in the coffee house circuit and art festivals.  Within a year, we recorded and released our first CD, all while feverishly writing new material and performing all around Michigan.  The musical evolution between our first and second offerings was extraordinary, as I learned to bring melody, harmony, structure and theory to my songwriting.  After our third CD was released and having performed on a weekly basis for three years, we parted ways.

Lakshmi

As The Pryde was ending, I began to write more intimate music with a universal message.  In essence, I found my voice, my sound and my truth.  My songwriting and performing became more multidimensional.  I returned to the studio to record the “Lakshmi” CD.  12 songs, featuring 15 diverse genres on which I performed 17 different instruments. I also assisted in the engineering and mixing process, as well as conducting most of the production.  Lakshmi shifted me into a new era of songwriting. In my honest observation, it is the best representation of my sonic artistry in my 36-year musical odyssey.     

Wake Iam Lakshmi © 2016

A History of Music

Music was never my endeavor for fame or fortune.  It is too sacred an experience to be defined by compensation, imposition or promotion.  Though I was surprised it did not become my personal destiny, I have learned that artistry is not a commodity for ego, but a soul expression.  Since “Lakshmi,” I have written enough material for another 2 albums and continue to compose music.  All through my musical history, there has been one common tone.  Music connects us with each other unlike anything else in the world.  Our creativity is what relates us with our soul, and the source of it all.

“Music is the voice of the universe.”

The Lakshmi Suite (composed for my wife Laura)

Lakshmi Part 1: The Rhythm of Light Iam Lakshmi © 2016
Lakshmi Part 2: The Breath of Life Iam Lakshmi © 2016
Lakshmi Part 3: Mandala Iam Lakshmi © 2016

Iam Music Link

Leelanau Legends

“Beyond the invisible gateway, guarded by the night,”

A Force of Creation

1.1 billion years ago, the Midcontinent Rift occurred in what is now Lake Superior.  The magma from the eruption was so expansive, it flowed all the way from its epicenter to Kentucky and Kansas. Mountains of lava rock rivalling the elevation of the Swiss Alps were forged from the rift. During the Pleistocene Epoch, colossal ice sheets leveled the range, carving immense basins with their glacial activity. Their meltwater eventually transformed them into the Great Lakes.  A gigantic Dolostone (fossilized Limestone) Basin beneath the Lower Peninsula, Lake Michigan and Lake Huron is the foundation stone for the Great Lakes State.

“Light from a passable walkway, grows golden, true and bright,”

Leelanau Tribe

In my teenage and early adult years, I ran with an extensive group of friends that would become family.  One of our friend’s fathers owned property on Whaleback, and we gathered there for rhythm and revelry.  Many of us were musically inclined and would often provide songs around the fire in the forest. When we played drums, the sound would resonate down the hill and into the village of Leland.  In my opinion, there was no better place to spend these seminal years of my youth.  In all the time I spent with the Leelanau Tribe, it would be years later when I would discover the County’s vast indigenous history.   

“Up towards a hill fire, where one can lose their sight,” 

Experiential Origins

During the fall of 1990, I returned home from university to visit family in Leland.  At the time, they were living in a summer rental house in the village.  One night, I went to sleep on a hideaway bed in the family room.  Moments later, I drifted off and found myself lying on the bed, immobilized by a pulsating energy.  The inactive fireplace was ablaze with flame, while streams of light were swirling around the bed.  I freed my neck to see a Revolutionary-Era drum being played, yet there was no sound.  As the energy moving through me intensified, I found the strength to break the paralysis and return to my body.

“Upon staring down a mystery, found only in coals of white.”

Seeking Vision

My first Vision Quest was 30 years ago on North Manitou Island off the coast of Leelanau County in Northern Michigan.  Before I went on my journey, I did historical research on the peninsula at the Leland Library, as a part of my preparation.  I learned the County had been home to the Adawa, Anishinaabek and Ojibwe Nations.  In the mid 1800’s, the French arrived, and as their population grew, the tribes were inevitably consigned to reservations in what is now the Traverse, Manistee and Peshawbestown regions.  I would also discover that the tribes would canoe to the Manitou Islands for their Vision Quest Ceremonies.

“Bluffs of silken sand, highlight this aged coast,” 

Coastal Centers

In 1996, I was drawn to specific areas of the Leelanau Coast.  The first was the Sand Bowl on the summit of Pyramid Point; the second, the heart of Good Harbor Bay; the third, Whaleback; the fourth, the Clay Cliffs; and the fifth, Petersen Park near Northport.  When I was 25, I would hike to each of these places to experience their environmental relativity, not really understanding why.  Later, I learned that the Leland and Petersen Park areas were early villages of the Adawa, Anishinaabek and Matinecock tribes; while Pyramid Point, Good Harbor, Whaleback and the Clay Cliffs (among others) were locations for their Ceremonies.

“Hidden from any hand, rests a fortified ghost,”

The Soul of the Land

There is an extraordinary energy in Leelanau County, specifically on its western coast.  A trapezoid of natural power runs from the Sleeping Bear Dunes to the Manitou Islands, to Leland and back to the Dunes.  At its heart is Pyramid Point, which is the center of its sacred space.  It is a massive sand dune of unknown size, crowned by beech, cedar and maple trees, edged with high bluffs and cliffs and outlined by Lake Michigan.  People who visit the County are enchanted by its beauty and scenery.  The tribes were aware of its supernatural power, honoring their traditions by conducting ceremonies to relate with the soul of the land.   

“Beds between the trees, paths above the ground,”

Environmental Center

On a clear day from the summit of the Sand Bowl on Pyramid Point, one can view the coastal vista of Good Harbor Bay, North Manitou Island, North and South Fox Islands, Whaleback, Leland, the Clay Cliffs, all the way to Petersen Park near Northport.  In the center of the Sand Bowl, there is a unique presence, serenity and silence I had yet to experience anywhere else.  One of my friends mentioned that the silica in the sand is a collector, conductor and amplifier for solar energy.  In my experience, the entire trapezoidal region is a resonator, an environmental center empowering creativity, relativity, transformation and transcendence.

“Forbidden thoughts are keys, opening the threads of time unwound.”

Natural Resonance

When I visit my home county, I am called to Pyramid Point. Over the years, I have grown to understand the unique presence, serenity and silence I encountered, as I have experienced it in the Center during Ceremony.  Every time I venture there, I walk the least travelled trail to a steep, natural stairway.  It is a vertical, sand pathway; a rite of passage leading to its summit.  I stand in the center of the Sand Bowl and make my prayer.  Oftentimes, the full scope of my three decades of experiences are so overwhelming, I am empowered with humility.  For hours after leaving this sacred space, its energy resonates within every thread of my soul.

“Embers diagonally speak, as laughter sharpens its knife,”

A Reunion of Prayer

A few years ago, my friend came to a Lodge Ceremony during the Autumn Equinox.  When he looked into his Chanupa bag, the pipestone was missing.  I asked him where he had used it last, and he responded, “up on Pyramid Point.”  A couple of weeks later I headed to the County to visit family and walk the trail he had to search for the missing pipestone. That particular Saturday I was up there happened to be his birthday.  Locating something so small in such a vast area is like finding a needle in a haystack.  Following his rough directions, I hiked the trail to the bluff and turned left.  After a few moments, I stopped and felt like I had gone too far.  Turning around, I was drawn to a hidden trail near a secluded area of the bluff and made my way over the ridge.  Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed a flash of red and circled around a large Cedar tree.  There beneath its canopy was a piece of red fabric and the pipestone.        

“Energized spirits leak…”

Leelanau Legends

For over forty years, I have had a unique relativity with Leelanau County.  In my adolescence and into early adulthood, I never wanted to leave my family, friends and the land.  Destiny drew me away in my early twenties.  And though we grew distant over the years, I found myself being called home by the spirits of the land who have, are and will always be present.  I see them shift through the sunlight between the trees in the day and dance within the moon beams at night.  I hear their voices in the wind and feel their presence in the currents and tides of Lake Michigan.  They hold a space for us to be legends of Leelanau County.

“…into a captured Stillife.”

Lyrics from the song “Stillife,” written in Leelanau County in 1991.