I am woman. I have a uterus. Feminism is in my DNA. Family is my tribe.
I was once an at-risk pregnant person. I received accessible, science-based, person-centered care during those vulnerable years.
Years of mourning 6 miscarried spontaneous abortions. Years of nurturing 3 live births: 2 biologically female, 1 biologically male. Each breastfed. Each given loving affirming care throughout their lives.
I am now an elderly woman in leadership in a male dominated world.
Hear. Me. Roar.
Note:words in bold italics indicate words taken from the federally banned words & phrases list
Monday evening, 11/17: I just pushed ‘submit’ on the Fall of Freedom Event Registration Form. This is a big deal. Not in the fact that Kevin and I are now committed to the deadline, but because even as creative participants, we don’t fit the mold – we are not an organization.
In fact, under the heading Organization Name I entered: No Organization, just two composer-musician educators in South Carolina collaborating on a Fall of Freedom Project – Laura Bruno Lilly and Kevin McKinney (Doc Snow).
So, you see, filling out the form required a very creative approach. And while not necessary, it does ‘prove’ our participation in this call to stand up for our right to free expression.
Yes, one of the things that attracted me to this event was the assertion that no effort is too small. Ours is indeed small. Just us two with a fantastic 6-minute video piece (almost finished*!) we plan to launch on my website and his You Tube channel on November 21.
And, according to the Event Registration email confirmation I received, ours is the first from South Carolina! Small but mighty, eh?
It’s great to be a part of this socially relevant event even if we still feel very isolated from the rest of those participating.
“We live in a time when dissent is punished, truth is twisted, and silence can seem safe. Under the banner of Fall of Freedom, we stand together in creative resistance, because when free expression is under threat, art becomes our voice, our shield, and our sanctuary. Artists are a threat to American fascism.”
*Our scheduled voice-over recording session set for between-lessons (Kevin) on Monday ran into technical difficulties. My home alone ZOOM H4n Plan B recording session the next morning yielded (unknown to me at the time) too much background noise to use. Technical issues resolved, we hustled to set up again for another between-lessons (Laura) recording session Tuesday early afternoon. Successful this time around. I like to think of this as our ‘surprise snafu scramble moment’ that all projects with a tight timeline & deadline experience.
Breaking News 😊: I just went to the Fall of Freedom Participants Page. I entered in the ‘search events or states’ line – each item individually – first the name of our project, then Kevin’s name, and lastly, my name. Guess what? Each item entered yielded the same result. That creative entry I mentioned above? It pops up along with the name of our ‘event’. Check it out!
Note: I’ve been managing a constant stream of migraine waves since mid-September resulting in controlled silence on my end of various communications – including blogging! As many of you know, doing what needs to be done (work, teaching, just laying low, etc) during those times is challenging and often impossible.
Today I seem to be in a migraine lull hence a blog post to communicate something that I wish to share with you, my readers.
On the cusp of my birthday, which coincided with a No Kings Day event 🙂 , I stumbled on something that ignited my activist/creative self and catapulted it into a sense of possibility.
“Fall of Freedom is an urgent call to the arts community to unite in defiance of authoritarian forces sweeping the nation. Our Democracy is under attack. Threats to free expression are rising. Dissent is being criminalized. Institutions and media have been recast as mouthpieces of propaganda.
This Fall, we are activating a nationwide wave of creative resistance. Beginning November 21–22, 2025, galleries, museums, libraries, comedy clubs, theaters, and concert halls across the country will host exhibitions, performances, and public events that channel the urgency of this moment. Fall of Freedom is an open invitation to artists, creators, and communities to take part—and to celebrate the experiences, cultures, and identities that shape the fabric of our nation.
Art matters. Artists are a threat to American fascism.“
As I delved deeper into this, I realized: this is a good fit for me. This is something I can do. This is something I want to do. Alone? Perhaps. And if necessary, yes, I’ll do my part as a soloist somehow, somewhere and in my own way. Even if it means just busking my “641” (see below) piece in a random outdoor space or playing it to some of my private students during their lesson. 😉
I’ll figure something out.
Meanwhile, I immediately came up with an idea for a project specific to the theme of Artistic Freedom/Activism. Simply put it’s a spoken word/music piece. I’ll take words from the 641 (word count) federally banned words and phrases list – current as of 10.1.25 – and create sentences, poems, catchy quips, use singular words, etc. which I will speak & intersperse amongst varying lengths of original music snippets.
I’ve begun choosing words and selecting/composing various musical snippets to play around with…it’s since morphed as project ideas do, but that’s my starting point.
This past Monday evening, I attended a ZOOM Fall of Freedom orientation meeting and I am encouraged. It feels good knowing I can speak up for Freedom of Expression/Speech/Etc. in this manner and in an organized event where it could perhaps make an impact.
Additionally, I reached out to a music teacher colleague of mine who is of like mind and excited to collaborate with me on this activist/creative venture in support of Freedom of Expression.
I’m not sure if I can find any local places (I live in a small, underserved* city in the South) that would be open to allowing this event, but I do have a modest list of places I’ll approach in the next few days. My collaborator buddy no doubt has a few of his own to check out where he lives. We may stumble on a group who is actually actively organizing an event and needs participants!
In any case:
I’ll – we’ll – figure something out.
Care to join us?
I’ll keep you posted as this venture evolves & unfolds!
*FYI: just one of the “641” among others used naturally within this blog post
The world It goes hither and yon. Yet 21st century aromas linger Strangely unsettling these past years. Strongly scented with testosterone – aggression – A generation that knows no other way. In the name of progress, our input has become narrow. Fully incomplete, unfeeling, unreal. How to thrive in such an unfertile soil Laden with toxic nutrients? Yet 21st century aromas linger Strangely offering hope for a better future. Strongly scented with testosterone, estrogen – partners – Shaping a more sustainable relational environment. Angels cry Angels hope Angels have no say. It’s up to us.
While many are experiencing extreme weather across the country, our little corner of the world offered up a few perfect days.
My favorite type of day, in fact. Stiff breezes delivering crisp air and enhanced sharpness to the slanty-rays of daytime sunshine…
I’m a happy camper!
While many have detailed their goals in a manner worthy of the New Year, I have been floundering in my own Sea of Lists.
Until…
A poem found me. Its truth offered a starting point. Its truth offered freedom to just begin.
New Year Poem (excerpts) May Sarton
Let us step outside for a moment As the sun breaks through clouds And shines on wet newfallen snow, And breathe the new air. So much has died that had to die this year.
We are dying away from things. It is a necessity – we have to do it Or we shall be buried under the magazines, The too many clothes, the too much food. We have dragged it all around Like dung beetles…
…Let us step outside for a moment Among oceans, clouds, a white field, Islands floating in the distance. They have always been there. But we have not been there…
…Let us step outside for a moment. It is all there Only we have been slow to arrive At a way of seeing it. Unless the gentle inherit the earth There will be no earth.
In between getting ready for this coming week of teaching, prepping for a trip back to the Mayo for my hubby’s 6 week post-surgical re-check*, working on a baby quilt for one of my younger cousin’s new arrival, figuring out various details of unexpected commitments – and normal outloud living – I leaned into the ‘perfect day’ call to bake.
Remember to occasionally indulge all your senses with the simple act of baking.
– A coincidental gift received during National Poetry Month – As natural as breathing, sharing works of (he)art is part of my everyday.
A few days after my last post was pubbed, a longtime friend noticed the ‘tree painting’ on the shelf beside Gracie. This prompted her to share a reading by Amanda Palmer of the following poem by Mary Oliver. She’s been listening to every day.
Gracie’s Photo included the day’s calendar artwork
WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES by Mary Oliver
When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily. I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often. Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, “Stay awhile.” The light flows from their branches. And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say, “and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.”
