In memory...

There are some parts of being a violinist/fiddler that I do not enjoy.

Although, I had a strange sense of belonging at this celebration of a life I never knew.

I like to think my music helped a lot of people process and remember a great man today. Someone I never met but I hope captured his love of Scottish Fiddle Music.

I am not there

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush.
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.