TED is brilliant. I love good presenters and odd topics and fifteen minute talks. Last night I watched Mandy Len Catron talk about the language we use to describe love. We liken love to madness or combat, and consider it something that happens to us. She challenges that notion, presenting a different perspective that favours choice and agency, and is really quite hopeful. If you’d rather read, try her article in the New York Times.
My audience brings me joy every single time I get on stage. I don’t know if they realise how special they are and how much I love them. I do a little gig once a month at Craig’s Hotel in Ballarat, down in the cellar, and every month I go home with a smile on my face and a heart full of love. We share a space and time each month and I’m very humbled that everyone who comes gives a few hours of their time to listen to the music I make. The atmosphere is very relaxed and we often have a conversation in the middle of the set about songs and stories and experiences. And there are always a few songs where everyone joins in to sing – that’s one of my favourite moments as a performer – when we all make music together.
One very special thing about this particular audience is the way they let me experiment – with new songs, poetry, different instruments, and occasionally a new song of mine. Thank you, if you were there last night, for letting me share that new song in such a loving environment. It was hard thing for me to do, but you made it you made it possible.
Here’s a little clip from last night of a song written in 1928 – I Can’t Give You Anything But Love – by Jimmy McHugh (music) and Dorothy Fields (lyrics). I’m playing my new ukulele, Petunia.