I am composing several pieces of original Celtic music to aid in quiet reflection. My hope is to film the finished pieces on-site at the creek in order to provide a visual component for the show.

If there is a monitor available in the gallery, this video could be presented in a looped footage format. If this isn’t possible, I could always take a photograph of my instruments at the creek for display purposes and provide a QR code caption for viewers to access the music.

I’ve really enjoyed this project! I’ve completed 4 pilgrimages to the creek so far, each without a pre-determined agenda. I simply take a picnic blanket, my harp and whistle, and a journal in which to write my thoughts. Some visits last less than an hour, but several have extended far, far beyond.

On my first pilgrimage, I listened to the sounds of the creek (rushing water, whirring cicadas, etc.) and tried to capture those sounds in music. What a treat! I focused on the rhythms of the sounds, the pitches, and had a fine time meditating on the line between “sound” and “music.” I was even able to use my synesthesia (I hear music in color) to “paint” a sketch of the creek, expressing hues of green, yellow, and blue in musical form.

One of the strengths of Annie Dillard’s book is the celebration of the familiar, the mundane, and the overlooked. Dillard’s writing is kaleidoscopic. She simultaneously holds a magnifying glass to the smallest and most delicate elements of an ecosystem, all while pulling out and considering the wider scope of the universe, human history, philosophy, science, and essentially any scrap of knowledge. She delights in discovery and celebrates the beauty of nature, alongside its horrors.

I felt a similar delight as I made my pilgrimages to the creek, curiosity unfurled. Should I take this path, or that one? Should I spend time studying this leaf, or is there something transient around the corner that I simply must see? I wrote in my first journal entry that I felt like “a glutton for greenery”–torn between slowing down and searching for more, more, more. I did a bit of both on different visits. I made no judgement on the pace of my exploring.

As mentioned above, I’ve been delighted by the relationship between “sound” and “music”: how are they similar, and how are they different? I used to read a lot of psychology and neuroscience books back when I was in high school and college (around the time when I discovered synesthesia and yearned to learn about the science behind the colors in my brain). How can two people hear the same thing, but have vastly different experiences? Scientists are still exploring this question.

Seeking to render sounds, images, and emotions in music has reignited this interest! I’d love to read more books on the subject and incorporate what I learn into the music I’m writing, but that’s probably beyond the scope of the current project. Something to look forward to in the future, I suppose!

It sounds simple, but nature clarifies. I’m not sure I would have been as thoughtful, whimsical, or productive in my writing if I’d attempted to do it at home. Some mornings, I didn’t want to go out to the creek. These were the same mornings where I ended up staying nearly two hours on the bank, allowing thoughts and observations to flow through me as I plucked on the harp strings. Curiosity and creativity will come if you give them the space to flourish.

As a side side story, I’ve had a few human interactions while working on this project. Most people on a morning run or walking their dogs don’t expect to find a harpist sitting next to the water. One particular woman was having a very bad day, heard me playing, and told me that she’d take it as a sign that things would get better. This project has been a timely reminder of how crucial it is to connect with other people–and how something as simple as practicing an instrument next to a stream can ease someone else’s pain.

I’m a full-time musician, and this month I’m doing a good bit of traveling that will pull me away from the project. However, I’ve foreseen this and did most of my pilgrimages/journaling LAST month. I have a two-week span of time this month in which I’ll be home and able to fully devote myself to finishing my pieces and recording the final tracks before I have to travel again. Everything should work out just fine, but…it certainly *is* a challenge.

DCJ Okay to Pay
$500
300065-2010
Percent for Art Fund
9/24/25
Supplier Number 8642, Kinnfolk LLC