Corrinne's Musings - A singer-songwriter's life.

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Location: Los Angeles, California, United States

I write songs, I sing them... I play the piano and a little bit of the guitar.. I've released 5 albums of music, I love the scent of freshly fallen rain and the scent of lavender on bedsheets. I would drink tea all day long if the caffeine didn't keep me up at night. I hate driving in L.A traffic. I would love to one day catch the squirrel that steals the plums from my tree and make him a pet. I don't watch TV anymore. My 3 year old daughter is more entertaining than any TV show could ever be :)

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Thursday, October 25, 2012

First winds of Autumn

I love this time of the year when the wind whips up a furor and spins leaves and twigs around, blows doors open and puffs away the infamous LA smog to uncover the majestic definition of the mountains.

It’s almost as if mother nature is taking the time to sweep away cobwebs and dust bunnies and anything else that is keeping us from having a reflective introspective autumn.

Just as nature quiets down towards the end of the year, I too find my heart yearning to quiet down and listen to the silence in the air, the language of my heart yearns to speak again with the creator of each heartbeat.

The soft orange glow of the afternoon sun, a low fire kindling within, exuding warmth as the weather cools down.

I never experienced the seasons when I was living in Singapore. Yes, there were the seasonal monsoons and hot and humid periods within the year, but the trees didn’t change colour nor did the temperature soar and dive throughout the year.

Here in Los Angeles, mild though the seasons may be, the change in the weather feeds my moods. I find myself more energetic in the warm summer seasons when the trees are brisk green and the sun a harsh yellow, almost challenging me to partake in some physically demanding activity. Mellow introspection comes calling in the autumn. The leaves rustle, they dance and they whisper secrets I long to remember.

The first winds of autumn, whip the fallen leaves in a frenzy outside Kavin’s studio and spin round in circles.

Like dizzy schoolkids singing a nursery rhyme, holding hands and dancing in circles, the leaves seem to partake in their own celebration. Perhaps freed from the bonds of their lineage to the tree from which they grew, they can now float free for a little while before they dry up, wither and crackle into bits of leafy dust to be swept along the gravel of the road.

Soon, new buds will form and cover the tree again. But for now, for now, the whisper of the wind beckons and calls us to celebrate life. For in the quiet, reflective moments of autumn, we find the inspiration to live anew.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Reflections upon the passing of my friend, Ann Pickavet.

Ann Pickavet passed away sometime in the early morning hours on the 15th of October. Heard the news from Tez. I’m still in disbelief. I just spoke with her last Saturday and we had talked about her singing the tenor part in the choir; the possibility of her hiring an aide to go along with her for the Wednesday night rehearsals. And now she’s gone. Felt sad listening to her voice on my voicemail, knowing that I won’t be hearing from her again at least in this life.

I miss my friend.

She had a gruffness and spunkiness about her. A distinct child-like naivette and wonder. What a blessing that she was prompted by the holy spirit and followed that prompting to go for confession the past few weeks just before her passing. I can just picture her going : “Get out of here!” when she realizes she’s meeting our Lord and our Lady and finally seeing them face to face. Dear Ann, what a wonder it must be. How strange to talk of you in the past tense. Now you’re the one who must teach me all about the Lord. I miss you, Ann


How swiftly and timely death comes for us all.
I still remember Ann asking me last Saturday if I wanted her St. Teresa of Avila book, ie. the one she’d received in the mail by mistake.
She’d ordered a St. Therese of Lisieux book and received a St. Teresa of Avila one by mistake. I’d told her that I wasn’t sure. Ann passed away on the morning of the 15th of October and somehow that night, I just wanted to check which feast day she’d passed away on. I googled and discovered that she had passed away on the feast day of St. Teresa of Avila! God has quite a plan, and a sense of humour to go along with it!  I was thinking to myself, you’ve got to be kidding me!

Just this year alone, 3 people I’ve been friends with at Our Lady of Peace parish have passed away. It’s been a strange year. Yet it’s a constant reminder to me to not leave things that need to be done, undone. Oh, the things that we take for granted, the things that we hoard and hold dear. Will we be able to take that with us?

I helped Cathi, Ann’s daughter, and Sandra, Ann’s aide, to clear a little bit of Ann’s apartment yesterday. There’s a lot of stuff in her little apartment. Cat Fancy magazines, bags of plastic bags folded into neat little triangles, cards from people that she’d saved in a shoebox, newspaper clippings, cat toys, and it made me ponder…what will I leave behind when my time comes to go?

As it is, I have so much stuff…I have unfiled, bank account statements, ASCAP statements, cheques waiting to be banked in, scraps of information and coupons that I’ve left unorganized in some pile in a drawer, stuffed toys in boxes that have accumulated dust from the years of being untouched, clothes that haven’t been worn in years, underwear and socks with holes in them…photos, tons of digital pictures left uncategorized…it would be an absolute headache and mess for anyone to deal with, and I’d be embarrassed about leaving those things behind; scraps of receipts from years gone, documenting purchases of inane things like hairbands, sanitary pads, items left unreturned.

There’s no turning back once we step through that death’s door. No going back last minute to clear things up, to say goodbye, to give a loved one, one last kiss. The saints got it right. They lived each day, each moment as if it was their last.

For who knows the mind of God, the will of God except the almighty Himself? So we should make haste to make hay while the sun still shines.

It’s often in times too of a good friend or loved one’s passing that we often regret not having given more, not in terms of material things, but in terms of time. Time is the precious ‘commodity’ that can’t be bought. Just like the sand that keeps trickling downwards in the hourglass till it all empties out, our lives have a fixed number of days and nights. But I, like most other people, often live not seeing or realizing this truth and life more often than not lulls us with a false sense of security; telling us to clothe ourselves with the belief that this earthly life is forever.

Lord, I want to end my procrastinating ways. I want to make every single moment count and not let it become a blur. Can you help me with this too, mother Mary?

I should change the title of my to do lists, from ‘Things to do today’ to ‘What would I regret not doing if I died at the end of this day.’

Oh Lord, keep us vigilant. Help us to realize the brevity of this gift of life.

As I rummaged through Ann’s papers, I found a little sealed envelope with the handwritten words ‘KK’s first years’ on it and handed the envelope to Ann’s daughter, Catherine.

Ann left behind little neat written notes documenting her daughter, Cathi’s first years. It was touching to see Cathi opening up the envelope to read her mother’s thoughts.

It got me wondering, what will I leave for Claire, so that she knows how much her mummy loved her.

For sure, I’ll leave her my journals, and there will be pictures, birthday cards, notes, letters; but truly what I’d like to leave, won’t be tangible; I mean, what happens if all these journals were to be burnt in an accidental fire, or lost, or damaged? What if all my pictures were accidentally deleted?

So often I try to make permanent, the fleeting moments of our existence, I try to take a picture of moments I hope she’ll remember, like the doll-house Kavin built out of building blocks, or moments we’ve shared a table and a drink at Peets, or just moments where Claire is running around dancing in her ballet outfit. My iphone and my computer have at least a thousand photos of Claire and she’s just 3! So often I hope to make a permanent memory with this technology, with pieces of paper!

But truly, the essence, the real goal in all this, is to write, somehow write these memories, these moments in the cherished walls of her heart, and in those recesses of her mind, where in quiet moments of solitude, reflection, peace, sadness or joy, in those moments, I will be there with her; long after I am gone. I think that is the hope of any one who has a child or a friend or a lover. All one wants at the end of the day, is to be remembered because ones’ life, one’s actions, one’s way of living, made a difference.

I take comfort in the fact that scientists have confirmed time and again, that our human brain is capable of storing so much information. Much more than my measley macbook can.

I want to store the memories of love and sacrifice in the walls of my brain, in the recesses of my mind and my heart. I want to write the message of my love for Claire and for Kavin and for all my loved ones, on the annals of their hearts and minds. For that is all we can hope for, for once this material world vanishes, Love will be all that remains.

Love is our Alpha and it shall be our Omega. Love encompasses all, and Love binds all and Love remains in all.

On a separate note, by extension, I think I now understand better how God would like us to love Him and how He loves us. Just as I yearn to clothe my loved ones with the memory of how I loved them, God longs for us to know of His deep sacrificial love for us. He wants to write the message of His love upon our very hearts…

“I will put my laws in their minds and I will write them upon their hearts. I will be their God and they shall be my people.” (Hebrews 8:10)