Look At The Mountains (a poem)

Look At The Mountains

I awoke this morning
and found my body
was larger than me
and you were in it
somewhere…
You could say
our toes were curled in Egypt
and our hair was softening
in an Irish rain.
Did you notice our hands?
How we tied the laces
of a young boy in Africa
while he held the strings
and wondered?
If we fall back to sleep now
and separate –
Look at the mountains
we’ll never kiss
or lick like ice cream cones…
Yes, you were always
the funny one
But did you notice
how many laughed
with our belly?

©Katie Kidwell, 2019
my photo of Shasta winter of 2007

To read more of Katie’s Poetry @ https://katiekidwell.com/katies-store/

Click on the orange button below to hear Katie singing her Vancouver Mountain Song “Come To The Mountains”.

 

©Katie Kidwell, 2019 The Living Of Loving
©GWJ Creative Art

 

Christmas With My Old Ma – the story and song

I wrote this Christmas song many years ago.  It is a true Canadian Story and I hope someday others will hear it across Canada.  Either way, I have made my career out of the enjoyment to catch the true moments that deserve to be immortalised by song.  Below this link for the song is the story behind the lyrics.   Christmas With My Old Ma

Back in the ’70s, when I graduated from high school, I moved from the Cariboo to the big city of Vancouver. No more would I be walking the milk cows across Highway 97, stopping the traffic on the road to Alaska. In fact, when I left, they built a cow culvert under the road, so Beauty and the rest of the girls converted.

When I arrived in Vancouver, on my very first bus ride down East Hastings Street, I knew, without doubt, Santa Claus was living there — hiding somewhere amid the bricks and broken glass. Mr Clause was probably sleeping in a hotel lobby chair, right beside an old Grandfather’s clock. At least one friend who worked for CBC believed he saw him there. Resting while Old Man Time swung his pendulum back and forth. He even wrote a poem about it. His name was Tom Houston.

So you see I wasn’t alone in my belief Santa was a real rub-dub; an out of work has been. But when Santa started showing up in department stores with smooth cheeks and a fake beard I could tell nobody here had any idea of how unreal it all was.

Eventually, I forgot too and Christmas in the city settled into a routine of flashing lights, frantic shoppers and long lineups around Santa’s corral.

Like the cows, my curious thoughts slipped into a culvert under the road and time sped by. Or so it seemed until one rainy night in December, busing my way home from downtown Vancouver to Port Coquitlam, I had a strange experience.

While the window wipers were busy in their hypnotic beat of perfect boredom the bus doors opened on East Hastings Street, and an old man’s voice floated in: “Bus driver, can you take me to where I can catch an eastbound freight train? Momma doesn’t know it yet, but she’s gonna have to set an extra plate for Christmas.”

And there he was, getting on the bus, Santa Claus and all his bags. Now I’m very grateful to the lady who sat in front of me as she faced the sideways chair the older man sat down in. You see the old man had a very soft voice and he talked to her because he was happy and because she asked him questions which told me she believed in him too.

Only once, at the very beginning did I look sideways. I couldn’t help the big grin on my face. But nobody else was paying attention, caught up in newspapers and a chance to sleep. No time to waste looking there, I thought.

So I listened as the older man recited a long list of towns…Towns an eastbound freight train would go through…On its way to Toronto…Where Momma was…Where the extra plate would be set…And oh yes, the friend he had in Edmonton who was going to let him use his phone to call Momma. To let her know her son was coming home for Christmas. And all the years it had been since they last spoke. And would the reception be any good for his radio when they locked the boxcar doors?

He was the person I had forgot I was waiting for. The truth that Santa did live on East Hastings Street and this year he was the gift. Wrapped up and ready for a long boxcar ride home.

Of course, this was before terrorism and security checks…a time when people could still sneak through rail yards and hop on freight trains! Now, I want to thank the bus driver who was excited about it and the lady in front of me who wanted to know every detail of it. While the older man unfolded his world out of the bags and boxes at his feet, he read aloud to her the Ads on the bus walls. Always with a comment to her. He liked humour. You might say he was definitely jolly.

I especially remember the one about the exit doors. He said, “I don’t know much about leaving by the exit doors, but I’ve sure got into a lot of places going through them!” Of course, now the sign reads “rear doors”, and I wonder what he would have made of that.

Well, I couldn’t just forget that night. So because my friend once wrote a poem, I decided I would write a song. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to tell the listeners everything about that night, but it never hurts to sing a song about a Canadian, especially when they’re Santa Claus.

Katie Kidwell
The Cariboo Song Rider

©Katie Kidwell, The Living Of Loving, 2019
©GWJ Creative Art

Katie Kidwell is a cheerleader for creative hearts everywhere.  With experience in music, writing and art.  Her inspiring stories on the creative way she has lived are here on her blog “The Living Of Loving”.  She also works as a commission artist.

 

A Tribute To Old Moore’s

Jim Moore’s wine label with art and poem by my Mother, Grace Moore

For many years the last weekend in November was on reserve. For over a decade this weekend was held by my family for my Father’s Annual “Old Moore’s” Wine Party. At the end of his life, these parties were 100 plus regular folks interested in an evening of sharing and storytelling. No one got drunk.

The food, prepared with love, came from all his family members and was served in a decorated space beyond any Banquet Hall you may remember. It was private, and it was meaningful.

There were music and singing and sometimes dancing. Here my Father, the Wine Master, sat nursing his old Navy drink of Rum, behind his vast array of coloured wine bottles, asking each person to choose. So many different fruits. A new one every year, it seemed.

In front of their guests, my Father and Mother spoke about the importance of sharing and being with others. Watching them, I knew they were leading by example. They knew the power of knowing your neighbour and inviting your repairman and your bank teller and the man who changes your tires. I call it: “The Butcher, The Baker, The Candlestick Maker.”

So for my first blog in December at the Living Of Loving, I am posting their story to celebrate friendship, close and extended. I think of my parents as community builders.

This is my Mother’s poem on the Old Moore’s label:

Fruit is made into wine
Enjoy it while you dine
Loving deeds can build a home
Where the wine of Life is Known

In honour of my parents love for gathering and sharing, I am posting a cartoon drawn of my Father, Jim Moore, by Cowboy Cartoonist Wendy Liddle; along with the limericks and poems that were written over the years for my Father’s homemade wines.  I hope you feel inspired to invite people over this season.  Share a coffee, a story or extend a hand to a neighbour.  Who knows what limerick is waiting for us!

Jim Moore Winemaker “Rhubarb”

Limericks/Poems

There once was a ‘dande’ named Jim,
Whose crock contained “lions” to the brim.
The brew turned out fine,
Rich dandelion wine;
If you want some, why not ask him?
M.C.

A winemaking genius named Jim,
Filled stone crocks with water to the brim,
Then with magic divine
Turned the water into wine;
The Master had nothing on him.
A.B.

There once was a man named Jim,
Who was quite famous for his gin
But there came a time
When he turned to wine
And the dandy-lion he is, is in him.
J.H.

There once was a connoisseur named Jim
Whose view of Carling’s was dim,
So he gathered some “dandies”
And made us fine brandies.
Oh, boy, were those drinks full of vim!
J.F.

There once was a Moore called Jim
Who put himself out on a limb.
His wine was so great
So pleasing the palate
There was never any left for him.
C.F

Old Moore is mighty handy
At producing wines and brandy;
He serves his product grandly
Which devotees think just dandy!
B.B.

O golden brilliant, melliferous wine,
I’ll drink yet again of that nectar divine!
Jim may pour some out
For some other red snout
But God help the man who takes mine!

The bounties of nature are many, I think:
Fruits, flowers and veggies end up in our sink
Let others make jams
Grow peas or cured hams
But let Jim make his glorious drink!
L.M.

Have a blessing day!

This page created by:
© GWJ Creative Art, P.O. Box 1547, 100 Mile House, B.C. V0K 2E0
©Katie Kidwell, The Living Of Loving, 2019

 

The River

©Colorado River, Glen Canyon (Oil) by Katie “Where The Secrets Are”

“I have often felt we are moved as rivers with Gods blessing afloat in us.” 

I met Shelley Hitz on facebook through Matt Tommey’s Created To Thrive Artist Group. Among other achievements she is the author of “Even Broken Crayons Still Colour”. The other day she posted on Facebook a personal experience with obstacles. A lot of people responded to the post. Here is mine:

 I have always remembered what Helen Gurley Brown said in a TV interview. “Creative people are like rivers. When they are stopped, they find their way around what has stopped them because they are creative, and they must move.” I have often felt we are moved as rivers with Gods blessing afloat in us. What stops us is just an illusion or at least a time to float and see what the clouds show...

This TV interview with Helen Gurley Brown took place in the ’80s while I was out at the ranch. I have never forgotten it. At the time, I was trying to understand all the detours of my career. But a successful woman was putting it into perspective, and now everything was making sense.

It’s been my experience that creative people inspire creative people. There is an authentic exchange when we know our creativity comes from the creator.  Any detours we have to make are opportunities.  So I love the analogy of the “River” in this.  

I can recommend following Shelley Hitz if you are a creative person. She will teach you how to sell on Etsy, write your book and give you free calligraphy sheets to practise. I expect as a “River” she will be about even more than what I’ve listed here. I know I am.

©Katie Kidwell, 2019 “The Living Of Loving”
©GWJ Creative Art

A Little Bit Of Love

The Story

Back in the ’80s, on the ranch, I met a neighbour whose story inspired me.  She had been a single mother who had once been a teacher.  Now she was in a new relationship and dedicating her time to homeschooling her son.

As she explained to me on a visit with him, he was dyslexic, and she wanted him to have what she knew she could do as an enlightened teacher.

She said, “getting the left and the right and the up and the down to move together as one picture.”

When they left my home, I noticed the essence of “love” hanging in the air from their visit.

So I grabbed my guitar and wrote this song:

A Little Bit Of Love.

A Little Bit Of Love ©Katie Kidwell, 1987 SOCAN

The Lyrics:

A Little Bit Of Love

CHORUS:
A little bit of Love
It can change the way we see
Re-write our destiny,
Yes, it can!
A little bit of love
It can touch us where we are
Make us better by far
Yes, it can!
A little bit of Love.

To take the left and move it right
To take what’s down and lift it up
To bring “the picture of Life.”
Together,
Together inside.

Chorus.

If thoughts could heal
You’d be in flight
Inside your heart
You give your might
I see your picture in Life
Together,
Together inside.

Chorus.

Repeat last line:  A little bit of Love…
Speak last line:  Just a little bit of Love.

©Katie Kidwell, 1987  SOCAN
PAu-1-163-870

A Little Bit Of Love was recorded in Vancouver, B.C.   Gord Maxwell on fretless bass (Ian Tyson), Larry Pink on steel guitar (One Horse Blue) and Rocko at the controls.  Vocals:  Katie & Gord. Katie on her Washburn guitar.

You can download an mp3 copy of “A Little Bit Of Love” here for $1.00 US

A Little Bit Of Love, mp3

 

 

©Katie Kidwell, The Living Of Loving, 2019
You can message me @ GWJ Creative Art

Emily Carr

 

“When the forest plays with the lake” w.c.©Katie Kidwell, GWJ Creative Art

Sometime in my 40’s, I discovered Emily Carr’s writings.  Oh, how I grieved!  If only I had known about her books in high school…As much as I loved reading Steinbeck and Hemingway, I would have benefitted more with Emily’s words.

Emily was an artist, a gardener, an animal caretaker of all kinds and most unpopular in her time.  Later on, she camped in her “Elephant” and painted.  This is where I have joined her.  I too camp and paint.

As much as I love her paintings…
I love her writings more!

She had an honest way of describing how she feels and what she longs for in her art.  Through the lens of her day to day world, her books have much to teach a creative person.

I hope by now you are thinking, “I better check this out.”  Do a google search for Emily Carr and you won’t be disappointed.

This winter in Value Village I found a “new” book of hers.

“Emily Carr and her Dogs”.  Apparently, she made a calendar, one year, from the point of view of her sheepdog “Billie”.  If you’ve never seen an Emily Carr drawing in caricature – as I hadn’t – you should.

As with “Wildflowers”, once again, the B.C. archives have pulled another gem out of their vast collection of Emily Carr’s personal belongings.  They have been the best “relative” she could have had and all to our benefit.

My art teacher at Emily Carr School of Art, in Vancouver, B.C, asked us to study other artists and determine who we would like to have a cup of coffee with.  Who would we like to have a conversation with?  Well, coffee or tea…my choice is crystal clear…

©Katie Kidwell, The Living Of Loving, 2019
©GWJ Creative Art

 

 

Saddled and Gone

The Story

Sometime in the late sixties, The Star Weekly published a story about a woman who had been given a few months to live.  The magazine story focused on the fact that it was now 10 years and she was still alive and thriving! They wanted to know how she had done it and they wanted their Canadian readers to know about her choices.
 
I was a child then, and my Mother wanted me to know the story too.  Of how this woman had sold and rode away from everything, with a horse and a saddle.  I was fascinated with the newsmagazine’s large photo of her face.  I had never seen so many wrinkles before and she wasn’t even old.  Yet she had spent the last 10 years of her life sleeping on the ground with her horse.
 
I don’t remember the woman’s name only her face and big hat.  If you know of her let me know.  My question here is “Would it still work to do what she did?  Sell everything and buy a horse and a saddle and plan on sleeping on the ground?”  If you had a few months to live, what would you do different and what if it was the cure?
 
 I too have lost family members to cancer.  I know there are miracle survivors everyday we could all sing about.
Sometimes it’s a sad song when the miracle is to quickly leave the pain in the body.
I never forgot the story of this woman and the look of her face.  So years later I wrote a song to celebrate her with. It’s called Saddled and Gone.

The Song

Here are the lyrics to the song I wrote about her story and further down this page the recording:
 
Saddled and Gone
 
Did she pass on?  
Saddled and Gone?  
I like to sing her song…
Oh I oh…..
I…yi….yee…
 
She was one city girl with a fatal disease
A few months to live, so live as you please
Without any kids or a spouse
She sold her car and her house
 
“Goodbye job, Goodbye friends
I’ve bought a horse and we’ll be travelin”
Oh I oh…
I yi yee….
 
Under the stars
Sleep on the ground
‘Till winds wrinkle
Your face turns brown…
Oh I oh…
I yi yee…
 
Ten years went by and she was alive
Out went her tale along the news wire
And then my Mom read it to me
To a child, it’s no mystery
When your saddled and gone
Riding along
Your heart sings a thankful song
Oh I oh…
I yi yee…
 
Some tales I have heard, slip their way down
‘Least when I know it they circle around
And though it’s a tale from the past
I feel it is good and will last
Now did she pass on?
Saddled and gone?
Hawk and coyote sing her song…
Oh I oh…
I yi yee…
 
                  © Katie Kidwell, 1991     SOCAN
 
Here is the Tom Thompson acoustic recording of Saddled and Gone done in the mid 90’s.

Saddled and Gone can be purchased as an mp3 download for $1.00 US
Secure payment with PayPal or credit/debit card


Saddled and Gone mp3

This blog post was previously published as:  “Have you lost someone to cancer?”  True to You (no longer on-line)

©Katie Kidwell, The Living Of Loving, 2019
GWJ Creative Art

My Mentors

I would not be the creative person I am today without having a wonderful “team” of mentors.  By this I mean the people who were inspiring to me over my lifetime.   In other words, my teachers.
 
Born with a sensitive nature, I was very lucky.  In some ways I won the lotto for being here on this earth now.  Because of this it is my responsibility to be the “evidence” of how they mattered! 
.
Here are the “faces” of the five women who played an important role in my life.  Overtime I will mention them and if you follow my blog you will get to know them.  I know they have something to teach the world. If it shows up in me…you know where it came from!
Grandmother Moore
Janice Hawes
Dorthy DeWinton, Aunt
Mother, Grace Moore & Leata Wetherald

World Singing Love

©”Spirit Of Song” w.c. by Katie
Several years ago I created a web site with an invitation for the world. I called it: World Singing Love. How it works is simple.
Everyone sings the chorus. The chorus is one word. That’s right, LOVE.  The music you can click on is easy to learn and the words are right there if you want to learn the verses! 
 
The recipe for how the magic works is on the web site so I won’t repeat it here. Find out for yourself what it is. Here’s the link to hear the song and read the lyrics: 

Web Site for World Singing Love 

Be in the spirit of the song and let me know if the magic shows up for you and your loved ones.
.
©Katie Kidwell, The Living Of Loving

What I Wish They’d Invent

When the Beatles recorded Eleanor Rigby they made a lot of sad people happy someone had noticed them. The happy people paused and gave thought…yes it was sad…“All the lonely people, where do they all come from?”

Not all people who live alone are lonely. There are lonely people living within large groups of people.  Loneliness is a state of mind capable of feeding itself sad experiences for the rest of its life.

So I wish they’d invent…

A system/machine, based on the hologram, challenging loneliness. Not another dumb-down drug.

Current research says it takes 21 days for the brain to incorporate a new habit.   Programs could be tailored to client needs or one universal one.  As complicated as some people’s lives are, the foundation of brain change is probably in the factor of one.

I will go out on a limb here and say I believe it is this:

The need to sense we are receiving love and respect.

Could a hologram field change the brain’s belief in its self?

Perhaps you have heard of the research supporting:

“What we think about we experience.”

“We cannot give to others what we don’t have for ourselves first.”

“Thinking will make it so.”

Any invention to help the brain get back on its feet. To experience the world it’s missing, would have great benefits for the heart.  Once healed and re-oriented, the world could well be shocked by the people showing up on the page.  No longer suffering somewhere alone.

Perhaps this invention is already underway.  Loneliness is worth talking about.

Here’s a cool U-tube video of Paul McCartney (2009) in New York singing with his band,

Eleanor Rigby, Sing the Changes, Band on the Run

Google the lyrics to “Sing The Changes”.  Maybe this is where the invention is or how it will be discovered.

I hope this blog has got you thinking about :“what I wish they’d invent” .  Write your own essay on this and see where it leads.  As always I hope to inspire my readers towards their own creative discoveries.  

 What I Wish They’d Invent

© Kathy Kidwell, 2015  True to You (no longer on-line)
©Kathy Kidwell, 2019, The Living Of Loving
GWJ Creative Art