|all the womens for the finale|
|Cathy Salvatori, drums|
|Dawn Duvall, vocalist & flautist|
|Julian Yarrow, piano|
|Paul McKeracher, guitar|
|Rachel Melas, bass|
|Tabby Johnson, vocalist; with Zoe|
|Lucy Lehman, vocalist|
|Carolynn Coburn, MC|
|Cue Kirk, poet|
|Kim Doolittle, vocalist|
|John Sheard, piano|
It's a little hard today to make that kind of joy; it's been raining all day today and yesterday, and is going to continue. I'm cold, since my house was empty and unheated last night while I stayed elsewhere to be closer to the hospital appointment at 9am the next day. I sat around in the hospital giving blood and waiting to see doctors, losing the whole morning, - a depressing way to spend even a good day, let alone one which already was high on the depression scale.
I find myself in a BAD MOOD.
Time for that delicious homemade soup that a friend brought over for me, along with her corn bread too. Such good and generous people in my life.
And I'm so lucky to have had in my life the wonderful experience of having an idea for a show, then working on it for over a year, then see it come to fruition last Sunday evening, May 5, with the most fantastic group of musicians, vocalists, and one entrancing poet - all performing songs and their messages that I have written over the years. They did it with great verve and personality and talent that made the whole place (a full house at Hugh's Room) go crazy with approval, love, and yes, joy.
The words of whatever quote I'm quoting from a new or old testament, or famous religious hymn - certainly came to life. The happiness was palpable, and I consider myself privileged to have worked with these artists. I got a very good group. And a very good result. And a very impressive amount of funds raised for the beneficiary of the concert: Sistering, a group that helps women in Toronto.
Altogether, a successful venture.
So much so that the next morning, when I was sitting in the very depressing blood clinic at Princess Margaret, with a crowd of shuffling and coughing, masked strangers, I was able to go back a few hours in my head, and recall the night before, so that I could blot out my surroundings, and smile gratefully at the memory of the night before.
Today, the hospital having drawn my blood once more, I too draw again, but on that night's memory.
Make a joyful noise, indeed. They all did, performers and audience, and my heart, which is still reeling from the experience, it's noisily joyful. As the song says: "They Can't Take That Away From Me". It will triumph over many a depressing scenario, just because it happened, and I was there. Another week later, it's still working its magic.