Tuesday, October 28, 2015.  The north wind is roaring around here.  It’s not THAT cold out yet, although I did see a sneeze of snow flurries this morning.  In Fargo, North Dakota it’s when the sneezing turns into full blown COLD with massive COUGHING north winds that drop wind chills to deadly that people here have to worry.

So, for the time being, I can leave my sliding glass door open a crack for fresh air – and for wind music.  I can actually tune this music by changing the width of the opening I leave for the wind to sing through.  (Nope.  This will NOT be music I wish to hear by next month.)

A wind whistle.  Howling?  Sometimes sounds like an oboe.  Sometimes rather piccolo-esque.  A little sax.  A little tuba.

Reminds me of wind howling across our family’s Alaskan mountain homestead during my childhood.  Of wolf songs.  Of wild things.  Things that what might remain of the earth’s wilderness know about.  A certain primal sense of freedom.

Of music in water’s movements.  Storms.  Yet wind?  How can it make any sound at all if there is nothing for it to blow around, through and against?

Like a crack open into this room


Speaking of music….

I picked up this book a few weeks ago in trade at the little used bookstore a mile from my apartment –

Musicians in Tune: 75 Contemporary Musicians Discuss the Creative Process (1992) by Jenny Boyd (music psychologist)

In posting the link to this book I now see that Boyd has another book out that I will be ordering –

It’s Not Only Rock ‘n’ Roll: Iconic Musicians Reveal the Source of Their Creativity (2014) by Dr. Jenny Boyd and Holly George-Warren


I do know that Boyd’s writings will be the basis of my serious self-examination this winter about how the traumatic abuse of my childhood so damaged my musician-within.  I am after some healing here.  Serious healing.  Lots of it.

I am also going to add to my study this book so highly recommended by Boyd –

Toward a Psychology of Being (2014 edition) by Abraham H. Maslow


I spend nearly all the time I can making things with my hands.  I am an extremely creative person.  Yet, I also know that for some very bizarre reason I do not understand my mother not only allowed me to pursue 3-D creativity, she fostered it and often even praised this aspect of my being.

This was true only for one other part of me – that I liked flowers.

Bizarre.  In her mentally ill psychotic mind – what was she THINKING?

I don’t really care.  Except that I want my musician self to BE BORN NOW!!  I want to pursue what is, to me, the invisible side of my creativity.

I want to make music.  I want to stop hearing my mother’s words about me and music.  Her hate-filled voice.

I want to end this entrenched tyranny of her over me.


I am going after this freedom.  This joy.  This right.



Here is our first book out in ebook format.  Click here to view or purchase –

Story Without Words:  How Did Child Abuse Break My Mother?

It lists for $2.99 and can be read by Amazon Prime customers without charge.


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Tags: adult attachment disordersadult reactive attachment disorderanxiety disorders,borderline motherborderline personality disorderbrain developmentchild abuse,depression,derealizationdisorganized disoriented insecure attachment disorder,dissociation,dissociative identity disorderempathyinfant abusePosttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD),protective factorsPTSDresiliencyresiliency factorsrisk factorsshame

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