Ma Boukaka, thank you.

Dear world.
A wonderful being, man, father, and great African drum spirit teacher has left our midst.

Thomas Boukaka expired, passed on, died, left his body, kicked the bucket, crossed over…today.

Ma Boukaka was one those kind of teachers that you had to hang out with to get. I was lucky to have had some time with him, and to be recognized by him.

Me and Ma Boukaka at my 60th birthday

When I met Baba Olatunji, I was bitten by the African drumming and dance bug. I needed to study with someone in between the times that I saw Baba (every 6 months or so). I began with Fred Simpson, local teacher and Congolese drummer ( yeah, also W. african).
Fred’s classes were hard in lots of ways…not easy for me to learn… Felt dumb, dumb, dumb. Competition high, competence low.

Went to lots (years) of other classes too before I just broke. Said to myself..”this is not fun. I feel bad about myself. ” No warm fuzzies. No encouragement, nurturing.. just vying. Either fastest, loudest, quickes to learn rhythms or most athletic. Had nothing to do with the spirit which drew me to drumming in the first place.

(Even with Baba the stakes were high. People angry at me taking my seat next to the Man..Little did they know how much the seat cost.)

Do I sound like I am whining?
I am not. It was what happened.

It was a hard 7 or so years for me. Even the women were not so nice ( yes, and you know who you are.)

But there was also this drive that would not let me give up…Rhythm that calls. the calling for mastery. Passion, so many things. A calling.

I knew Ma Boukaka from the first, and always felt his friendly vibe..
We put on a gig together at the Masonic Temple. Drum circle– followed by Bole Bantu, his band. They played. We danced. Very good vibes. I liked him… He had these funny, sparkly, electric-lighted sunglasses. His own person.

So, after playing with the big boys felt worse and worse, I gave up Fred (and others.) And I started going to Boukaka’s class, Tuesday nights, at Peninsula School, Menlo Park, CA.

I really don’t know that you could call it a class, per se.. It was more like hanging around with the village elder. No breaking things down, just over time (and I was there for a few years,) you caught on to most of the rhythms… And there were always songs and stories.. mostly about roosters or women kicking their men out for drinking too much. Little by little, you learned about the culture.
Some people like Geoff, Judy, Bob, and Brad were there since God, and the class was always mixed levels.. Anthony was there lots, too… very good drummer…
Some guy used to come in a wait for class to be done so he could play piano.. very casual and what I needed.. I felt included and less defensive.

I went to Congo camp with the Congolese family. Nancy, Ma Boukaka’s wife– good dancer, fine person. Regine, Ma Boukaka’s daughter, great dance teacher.
Malonga Casquelourd, Titos Sompa, Mbembe, Matingou, Samba Ngo, Mabiba Baegne and others.
Hundreds of Dancers.
Lots and lots of drummers… from beginners to professionals..
Long enough to sink into the vibe of being. Singing, kalimba, camping, paddling on the little pond.

And Ma B in the kitchen… in a way, holding the whole thing together.

Bole Bantu Boukaka played great dance music for my 50th birthday celebration, and for Terry’s and my wedding.

What is it that makes a great teacher for a student?. I think that it is when you are recognized– not for what you can do in the moment, but for your potential, the thing that make you unique. It is not egoic. It is necessary for people to validate us. Yes, you have to do your own work and lick your wounds, do your forgiving, put the past in a sensible light.

But when someone you honor honors you back, our progress on this path of self-healing can advance by leaps and bounds.. that is what Mr. Thomas Boukaka gave to me. Encouragement, faith, hope.

Thank you, Ma Boukaka– for everything.

Back from Florida- back to drumming

I started teaching Whole Person Drumming classes on March 6th at Madrona MindBody Institute (you rock!) in Port Townsend (about 45 minutes away from Sequim). The Institute is dedicated to the conscious moving arts: ecstatic dance, Nia, yoga, T’ai chi,etc. They also host workshops with outside teachers like Soul Motion founder Vinn Marti, Ruth Zaporah from the Action Theater, other notable teachers of the creative expressive arts. Gratefully, thankfully, they are giving me an opportunity to share what I would wish with any community–the passion I feel for rhythm.

the studio I drum in!

With Whole Person Drumming, in a new setting, I get to see firsthand the challenge in teaching rhythm through the vehicle of the body. Looking out into the room I see us struggle when confronted by new way of learning (“un-learning”). Although rhythmic training gives us the opportunity to practice joyful reunion with our basic, native sense of knowing, getting there can look and feel funny.
It’s embarrassing to see how hard we struggle. I feel great compassion for the dilemma that is hard-wired into us: the need to be recognized for doing something well, the need to succeed, to be COMPETENT…

But in this setting it really does no good to feel righteous about just how well we are doing. Learning rhythm with the body won’t let us hold onto that small mind.The “I” does not survive well with immediacy. Everything is happening too quickly for thought. We have to let go!

And that is surprising too.
Sometimes letting go comes in stages.. falling in and falling out of the state where rhythm “is”.
It becomes not something we “do”, but something instead that we call into being, and find a way to dance with.

Nonetheless this is an exciting start to my world here in the Northwest.
16 of us gathered together on Saturday and rocked the room with drum and ankle bells.

On Monday I began classes in Sequim at the Center of Infinite Reflection.
The Center is located on Susan’s land, with llama, sheep and Sage, the German Shepherd. It is really an outbuilding or large garage, but we (a creative group of women I met in my first week in Sequim,) painted it and it is a lovely place to teach classes. there is nice group of women drummersforming there as well.

Terry and I have decided to build a studio on our land here on Chickadee Lane.
There is already a garage, but it will in time be converted into the Wolf Rhythm Method Institute~

The soon-to-be Rhythm Central

with room for guests to stay in on the second floor.
At some point the building will suddenly appear. If you look the other way for about a month!

The weather is beautiful. Plants are growing.

spring in my yard.

I will be performing in a solo concert April 16 in Port Angeles and teaching at the World Rhythm Festival the following weekend.

It is a good life.

My Mother, the Queen Crone.

This one is tender.
How can I talk about my mother?
She was the star of her own production and we were the audience.
She was the sovereign, the benevolent dictator, and always on.
Later in life, she had space for me to be a light in my own way with one proviso: I could be the the princess of the west but she was the queen of absofuckinglutely everything and everyplace else.
And now she is a 95 year old woman.

I arrive in Florida on Feb 11th to take care of her for two weeks.. She is quite old now. Her mind has become porous. She doesn’t know where she is at any given moment, or even why where is there, but she manages to keep a pretty positive attitude about the whole thing. At least 4 or 5 times a day she asks me with different emphases: where am I?
Sometimes it is: Where am I? or where am I? or where am I? or WHERE AM I? I have so many answers. Sometimes I am literal.
Mom, you are in Panama City Beach, Florida where you live with Mark and Sandi (my brother and sister-in-law.)
One time I went through a whole litany that made her laugh. The answer to “where am I?” was: Panama City Beach, on the Gulf Coast, in the panhandle of Florida, and in the southern part of the US. Then I told her that the US part of North America in the Western Hemisphere. Then I included the entire world and of course the planet Earth. We continued outward as the third planet from the sun and then out to member of the Milky Way and so on. She liked that one.
Sometimes I just tell her that she is where she is loved.
This is not all as gushy and sentimental all the time.
But I always answer her.

Being with an aging person is one thing, but your mother, especially one who terrified you and held all the emotional cards of the deck close to her chest is another.
It is moment by moment.
I can feel my heart open and expand at seeing her wizened face, or be annoyed at how long it takes to do anything… Please take your pick. It vacillates.

And of course, the first day on “my watch” she trips over one of the 4 dogs at my brothers place and falls. And of course, I am reminded of the hip that she broke 5 years ago when she was on” my watch” in California.
My brothers wrote up a mock restraining order for me (it’s only a joke….funny ha-ha-you-never-have-had-a-sense-of-humor). So funny, right? You tell me.

So, I spent some time and energy during these two weeks going to x-rays, cat scans, and having her checked. Nothing was found. But her mobility, which is not much to begin with, became painful for her.
I improvised. I used my brothers office chair and wheeled her around the house everywhere.
I park super close to everyplace we attended and shuffled her in and out of the car with care.

I gave her a hot bath at night and rubbed her body with Traumeel.

She is my mother, she is my child.

Queen Judith then

Queen Judith now

I don’t like that she smells like an old lady. I don’t like that she doesn’t have the right clothes to wear. She is cold most of the time–never mind that the weather in unseasonably cold in Florida this year.
So I go out and buy her things..heavier pants, long sleeve shirts, super warm socks.

I try not to make a big deal out of the fact that I have no life of my own here in this place. To make it even funnier, my computer stops connecting to the internet. I have to use one of my brother’s PCs or my Iphone.. so I cannot do my thing– to try to promote my work in a new place.

I am reminded that my mother did not ask to be in the place that she is in either. She simply arrived.

I sleep like a a parent listening for the sounds of a child waking in the night.

And each day 5 PM I put her in the car and drive to view of the sunset.

Sunset in Florida

“LiOOM” tour to LA and back.

California Cows

After 2 weeks on the road, we drove to southern California. Giant storms had dumped big water on that area, hoping to float LA out to the midPacific. It didn’t happen. Instead, insurance companies were kept busy with new claims…Apparantly, it was a second coming of El Nino without the hype, and very few were prepared for so much wetness.

We missed the deluge! Got down tinseltown in time for the sunshine to come out, and to feel warmish weather for the first time in awhile.
I got back to my swimming routine for a week at the Beverley HIlls Country Club (whoohoo!). The pool was outdoors and although it is February by the end of the week I had a suntan on my back.
Wear sunscreen folks..SPF 30! The ozone hole ain’t getting any getting smaller even though the watchword is now climate change.

I had two “work” events planned for my visit to the city of conspicuous consumption.
February 5th evening: a TaKeTiNa intro and the following day an intro into Whole Person Drumming.

For fun (yes, we do have fun!) Terry and I went with friends to see Avatar at a 3-D IMAX theater. WOWWEEWOWWOW! I loved the movie!!! I want one of those lizardy guys to ride.. maybe a red one. That would for sure lessen the distance between Seattle and Sequim. What a creative movie… I am grateful for that one.

On TaKeTiNa Friday, Evan Porter, (my colleague and surdo player) and I got to the venue early. We were met by the organizer, who was not able to reach “lady with the key”… meaning our gig might not happen. We were locked out! Folks started to gather, and then,…rain! PERFECT! But for some reason, the spirits were with us-in more ways than one.

One of our participants just happened to have a music studio a few miles away, and invited us to his place. And so TaKeTiNa was on the move. We caravanned and about a half hour later began our circle in a new location.
Evan and I wove the transition to a new venue into our leading and had a really amazing night with about 14 people, most of them new to TaKeTiNa.
Thanks to John Fitzgerald for his generousity.. we were able to have a meaningful rhythm journey on Friday night.
On Saturday our scheduled session was 2 hours of Whole Person Drumming.
I overestimated my group. Many of them were drummers and so I assumed that doing something as simple as offbeats would “bore” them. Instead I taught something that I thought that everyone could get. I read my group incorrectly. It was way beyond most everyone’s comfort level.
Very wonderful to see that there is still so much that can be learned by being very, very simple. Simple is the new complex.

The juxtaposition was indeed a great learning experience.

I made some wonderful contacts on this tour and had the honor of teaching again. On Sunday we packed the car, got on the road and by Tuesday, February 6, we were back home in Sequim…Until 2/8/10 when I flew to Florida (northern) to take care of my 95 year young mother.

bathing beauty

Next time I teach I intend to just do one city at a time and then come back home to roost.
Need to rest in between bursts of energy.
Still got the jones to teach and teaching is teaching me.