Thank you Carrie for this conversation between two beautiful spirits. You mentioned how something begins to swirl, a "transcendent third element" when artist and audience engage together. I sing in a choir, and you have given me the language to name that feeling in the room when the choir starts to sing and an unidentifiable shift in atmosphere occurs. It feels like holiness. I see how this could feel subversive or even dangerous to those who would have total control of our lives. That transcendent third element cannot be captured and banned!
Thank you for this insightful conversation, Krista and Carrie. Glad you included the Darwin Song Project and Wilderness Plots in the music with this piece, too. The main story I wrote about the Darwin Song Project at the time of the recording has recently been taken down from the place it originally appeared, but I should have the rights back eventually. I'd been thinking I might give it new life on Substack.
I found this talk so moving! I love the idea of dark optimism. It's something that really speaks to me. Many of my works deal the dark aspects of life, but I hope they also convey beauty, the struggle for justice, and the power of compassion. It's so reaffirming to listen to other artists like you and Krista who use art for revolution. Thanks!
I loved watching this beautiful content. Thank you for my introduction to Krista’s work. I was struck by the term “dark optimist”. That resonates for me. And the action of pointing in the direction of possibility- especially now as well as the need for holding space for self and others. Absolutely loved it
I enjoyed this very much. I love the ease with which you both spoke and how you spoke with each other. And there were some very insightful comments/conversations about art and space and holding space. You are very fortunate to have each other. Thanks for sharing with us.
I leaned in on each life giving word you shared together. The word possibility is so big and expansive for this time we all share. You are a gift and gift us with others to meet and thus make possibly more real. Thanks!
I just finished listening to the conversation and I am overwhelmed- in a good way I think! It feels like holding the both/and, the place I seem to be standing right now in my life. Thank you for this amazing conversation- I found myself smiling and getting teary eyed as I listened. I suspect I will listen again😉.
It was December of 1958. A few days before Christmas. Griffith, Indiana.
Gray Morning. It had snowed overnight. Two or three inches. The snow was fresh enough that factory soot had not yet smudged it.
I was seven. Standing in my Aunt Helen’s kitchen. Trying to snatch a fresh-baked cookie.
The reason I was standing in my aunt’s kitchen that morning was that I was homeless. My aunt had given refuge to my mother (her sister) and me six months earlier when we had been evicted from our low-income apartment.
Aunt Helen was standing at the sink, washing the dishes from breakfast. The radio on the counter was cranking out Christmas carol after Christmas carol. With commercials for toys in between.
I wasn’t paying attention to the music. But then I heard, “Prum, prum, prum, prum.” It was the Little Drummer Boy, a carol that hit the air waves for the first time that December.
Though it was the somber melody of The Little Drummer that first captured my attention, I soon started listening to the words being sung by the haunting soprano voices.
I heard the story of a little boy who had come to see the baby Jesus. The boy was poor, so poor that the only gift he had to give ‘the newborn king’ was a tune he drummed out. But that drumming was acceptable. And so was the drummer boy.
I was that boy.
It was a powerful epiphany.
I realized that even though I was poor and had no gift to give anybody that Christmas, I was acceptable. And lovable.
It took me years, though, to realize that The Little Drummer boy wasn’t just about me. I learned that it was about every little boy and girl who is poor, disadvantaged, abused or neglected. And the message to each and every one of them is:
“You are acceptable. You are worthy. You are special.”
I got chills reading your story and felt the music of The Little Drummer Boy resonate through me. I have always loved that song in a deep way too. Thank you for sharing your story. I am so happy to hear how your heart was opened and of your willingness to receive Love - what a wise and courageous soul you were already at 7. Thank you again, for sharing. Feels more important than ever to recognize the strength and love in each other. Your story has touched me deeply. With gratitude. 🙏🏽
Thank you Carrie for this conversation between two beautiful spirits. You mentioned how something begins to swirl, a "transcendent third element" when artist and audience engage together. I sing in a choir, and you have given me the language to name that feeling in the room when the choir starts to sing and an unidentifiable shift in atmosphere occurs. It feels like holiness. I see how this could feel subversive or even dangerous to those who would have total control of our lives. That transcendent third element cannot be captured and banned!
Thank you for this insightful conversation, Krista and Carrie. Glad you included the Darwin Song Project and Wilderness Plots in the music with this piece, too. The main story I wrote about the Darwin Song Project at the time of the recording has recently been taken down from the place it originally appeared, but I should have the rights back eventually. I'd been thinking I might give it new life on Substack.
I found this talk so moving! I love the idea of dark optimism. It's something that really speaks to me. Many of my works deal the dark aspects of life, but I hope they also convey beauty, the struggle for justice, and the power of compassion. It's so reaffirming to listen to other artists like you and Krista who use art for revolution. Thanks!
I loved watching this beautiful content. Thank you for my introduction to Krista’s work. I was struck by the term “dark optimist”. That resonates for me. And the action of pointing in the direction of possibility- especially now as well as the need for holding space for self and others. Absolutely loved it
I was unaware of Krista's music and voice. Loved the interview and the music videos. Thanks so much to both of you!
I enjoyed this very much. I love the ease with which you both spoke and how you spoke with each other. And there were some very insightful comments/conversations about art and space and holding space. You are very fortunate to have each other. Thanks for sharing with us.
Art is resistance
to what is and come what may.
“We” is resilience.
I leaned in on each life giving word you shared together. The word possibility is so big and expansive for this time we all share. You are a gift and gift us with others to meet and thus make possibly more real. Thanks!
I really enjoyed this kitchen table conversation. Thank you so much, Carrie and Krista
* I am going to be checking out Krista & David's retreat space and all that is going on out there. This sounds incredible!
Keep making space for all of us during these troubled times. It helps!
✌️💚🎶🕊☘️🙏
I just finished listening to the conversation and I am overwhelmed- in a good way I think! It feels like holding the both/and, the place I seem to be standing right now in my life. Thank you for this amazing conversation- I found myself smiling and getting teary eyed as I listened. I suspect I will listen again😉.
I know the exact moment my spiritual life began
It was December of 1958. A few days before Christmas. Griffith, Indiana.
Gray Morning. It had snowed overnight. Two or three inches. The snow was fresh enough that factory soot had not yet smudged it.
I was seven. Standing in my Aunt Helen’s kitchen. Trying to snatch a fresh-baked cookie.
The reason I was standing in my aunt’s kitchen that morning was that I was homeless. My aunt had given refuge to my mother (her sister) and me six months earlier when we had been evicted from our low-income apartment.
Aunt Helen was standing at the sink, washing the dishes from breakfast. The radio on the counter was cranking out Christmas carol after Christmas carol. With commercials for toys in between.
I wasn’t paying attention to the music. But then I heard, “Prum, prum, prum, prum.” It was the Little Drummer Boy, a carol that hit the air waves for the first time that December.
Though it was the somber melody of The Little Drummer that first captured my attention, I soon started listening to the words being sung by the haunting soprano voices.
I heard the story of a little boy who had come to see the baby Jesus. The boy was poor, so poor that the only gift he had to give ‘the newborn king’ was a tune he drummed out. But that drumming was acceptable. And so was the drummer boy.
I was that boy.
It was a powerful epiphany.
I realized that even though I was poor and had no gift to give anybody that Christmas, I was acceptable. And lovable.
It took me years, though, to realize that The Little Drummer boy wasn’t just about me. I learned that it was about every little boy and girl who is poor, disadvantaged, abused or neglected. And the message to each and every one of them is:
“You are acceptable. You are worthy. You are special.”
That message is signed (as always)...
“Love,
Your friend, G!D”
I got chills reading your story and felt the music of The Little Drummer Boy resonate through me. I have always loved that song in a deep way too. Thank you for sharing your story. I am so happy to hear how your heart was opened and of your willingness to receive Love - what a wise and courageous soul you were already at 7. Thank you again, for sharing. Feels more important than ever to recognize the strength and love in each other. Your story has touched me deeply. With gratitude. 🙏🏽
Thank you, Amy, for your kind and affirming words.
Thank you for sharing your story❤️🙏
😌
Great video. But did you realize the closed captioning is not correct for your talk with Krisra Detor?