Here's My Record! Write A Review!

Gentle Readers,
At long, long last, you can click here to buy my album. I encourage you to write a review.
Buy it for friends. You know you like my music! They will too. Make my day. You know I love you all.
Pamela

Sonnet VIII.

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?
Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:
Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,
Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?
If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,
By unions married, do offend thine ear,
They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds
In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear.
Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing:
Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,
Sings this to thee: 'Thou single wilt prove none.'
--William Shakespeare

Roses and Bone: Soon at CDBaby.com!

Announcing worldwide availability of my CD! Roses and Bone will be in actual commercial distribution in just a few days...finally! I'll post a link here as soon as CDBaby sends me one. What a thrill - I cannot believe my good fortune in garnering a small following in Birchip, Australia. Who would have ever thought it? Never in my wildest dreams. Pure luck, modern technology, fate and the heavens above caused a very sweet woman on the other side of the world to reach out to me, get me out of the rut and put the music out there once and for all, on the open market. Spectacular events, each and every one.

I am going back into the studio April Fool's Day...stay tuned for the beginning of another project. Hopefully this time it will take less than eight years to put out seven, eight or nine additional songs. I've got lots and lots to write about.

Peace and love, from the Luckiest Gal Ever. Wow.

Beautiful Creatures, Beautiful Life.

These are just two of Australia Pam's many dogs she trains. Aren't they absolutely gorgeous? Nanny is the black one, what a beauty. The brownish guy is Danny. I love that look in his eyes, like he well knows what's what. Pam says he's not the brighTest dog in the world, but that's okay -- I kind of like them big, sweet, and a little bit dumb. She has horses, sheep, a beautiful farm. What a dream life. I'm sure it's a hard life too, lots of hard work, but Pam can we trade places for a week?

The Similarities Continue.

More news on the doppelnomer front: My middle name is Gay. Her middle name is Joy. She had a cousin named Carol Anne (same as my daughter), and a brother, John (same as my son). He was born on July 10 (my birthday). Her other sister was born the same day as my aunt (January 8).

Admittedly ours is a common last name, but when parallels transcend more than just names, it becomes something more than mere coincidence, something neither of us can quite figure out. To be honest, I'm enjoying all of this quite much. It is more friendly than frightening.

Additionally, her neighbor, Beth, is on holiday in England, where I have never been and where The Dream took place, and has a house full of antique furniture, from what Pam tells me. I cannot help but wonder if Beth's home looks similar to the one in my dream. Perhaps I'll send a sketch and see.

In speaking to my friends about this, it is becoming apparent that everyone experiences something mystical and unexplainable at least once in their lifetime; all of this must be mine. Ours.

Dream Mystery Somewhat Solved.

Got an email from my penpal Pam, notifying me that her nearest neighbor's name is Beth Bennett. Mind you, she had not once ever mentioned that particular name in any of her emails prior.

Donna also saw my post about The Dream and emailed saying she is leaving on a trip to England in a few weeks. She also had never mentioned that to me before.

Now, you tell me what this was all about, and then we'll both understand. I have never been a complete believer in psychic phenomena, but this thing, whatever you want to call it, really gave me the willys.

The Most Vivid Dream.

[Sharing with you this morning every detail of the clearest, most sensory dream I have had in a very long time. I can still smell the perfume.]

I was in England with my friend, Donna, visiting her mother. We were walking down a

quiet, tree-lined street, approaching the home where her mother lived. As we

neared, Donna pointed to a small dry cleaning business right next door to her mother's home.

LuLu's Dry Cleaning, the sign read. The home was tidy, painted grey with white

trim. The yard was neat and immaculately gardened. Donna called out "Hello!" before

knocking, and her mother appeared at the front door screen. She opened it and walked

outside, smiling, arms open to greet us. "Mother!" Donna said. They hugged, gently

rubbing the smalls of one another's backs the way moms and daughters do, chins on

shoulders, hearts touching. Reaching for me, she took my arm and offered up one cheek for

me to kiss, and I did. Her perfume was strong, sophisticated. Wind Song. "Come in," she said.


The home was small and expensively furnished. After a short tour around, Donna led me to a small

back room where she took me to an old desk she wanted me to see.

It was an 18th century writing desk with a backing that was ornately carved, with many drawers, inlaid and inset with

large and small roses, curling stems and intricate leaf patterns. The center section was

obviously out of place, and I asked about it. "Yes," Donna said, flipping it over on its hinges. "This

portion was damaged long ago, and I have been working with a restorer to recreate it how

we both believe it should be."


She showed me a set of drawings depicting a larger rose in relief that jutted out a bit

to the right and front, balancing out the remainder of the carvings. "This will be

beautiful when it's finished."

She pointed out several stamps on the desk, carved names and burnt markings in several secret hiding

places here and there. Provencial names, English names, the names of its makers. I read

them all with fascination. I even found some Donna hadn't seen before. And then the

feeling came over me. As we cleared away some papers from a couple of the drawers, my

head began to buzz, and I felt a warm flush rise from the neck up. "Wow," I said. "Donna,

something is happening to me. I am feeling strange."

"What is it?" she asked. Just then I heard a voice coming directly from the top and center of the

inside of my head. A voice muffled by time and distance. "Donna, I think I'm hearing

someone speaking to me in my head. Am I having a psychic vision or something?"

"Well, listen to it!" she insisted. I listened again. The buzzing warmth ebbed, then disappeared.
"It's gone."

I blinked my eyes, returning my attention to the desk, and then it hit me again, stronger

but still far away. "I AM BETH." I felt my shoulders stagger slightly. Ears red hot and

ringing with each heartbeat, I whispered 'Donna, I have had this kind of feeling before, but never this strong." She took my hand and said, "Come outside, let's get some fresh air." She

led me a few steps out the double glass doors into the garden and directed me to sit on a

bench. "Are you okay?" I closed my eyes. "Who are you?" I asked my head. The buzzing rose

once again, the heat, and then the voice inside again, loud and clear this time. "BETH

BENNETT." Chills ran down the backs of my knees. I looked Donna square in the eye,

unblinking.

Then the feeling zipped itself up and went away completely. "Donna. Her name is Beth

Bennett. Her name is Beth Bennett."

[Postscript: Donna's mother does not live in England, and it was my own dear, loving Aunt Mary who wore Wind Song and owned a dry cleaning business next door to her home. I know no one by the name of Beth Bennett, but I believe there is a Beth Bennett who reached out to me by way of this dream. I will let you know if I hear from her again.]

Pams Heard Round The World.

The most wonderful thing has happened. Someone from far away with the same name as me (I hadn't the heart to tell her at the time that I have a new last name) one day out of the blue emailed me to tell me she found and enjoyed my music on the web. How very touching that was. Her name of course is Pamela, she lives in Australia, is a nurse who owns horses and trains sheep dogs. How thrilling that someone with my same name lives a real life. She Googled her own name and there I was. I'd done the same a few months ago. I told her we were also a college professor, a doctor, an accountant, a "real" musician, and a movie producer as well. I sometimes see my name scroll by in movie and television credits. She sent me photos of her horses, and of her dogs herding Narracoorte sheep. I am sending her my CD. She said she didn't feel fair receiving without giving, so she is going to send me a CD of The Seekers. I feel like this is one of those fate-driven things, you know? Like I'm going to find something very beautiful, perhaps even mystical somewhere down the line. I love how she writes. We have many things in common. Isn't that a hoot.

Happy Spring.

It was so cute. Yesterday walking up to the building where I work, all these groups of little brown birds appeared in busy little flurries on the grounds at PA Square, cheeping and hopping and just being adorable in general. For a moment I almost felt like Snow White.