Finishing Before I Forget
December 29, 2004
Who should I see this morning but Anastasia? She is in the same outfit as yesterday, but ready to sing sing sing.
Every song I sing, she sings an octave higher. It is as if one of the chipmunks is doing a duet with Karen Carpenter, my voice sounds so ridiculously low…
I meet Phillis. Phillis joins us…and she is a marvel! Not only does she have incredibly smooth, chocolate milk skin, but her smile is wide and beaming. We immediately hit it off..and she sings like Mavis Staple! Soon, we are formulating grooves behind Miss Anastasia, laughing and percolating rythyms beyond compare! “I’ll take you there!” sings Anastasia, and Phillis and I burst into, “You’ll take us where!?” and turn the phrase into a “wherawherawhera” a la Aretha…Mind you, I’m trying to play my guitar while dancing and singing and laughing. It’s a blast! A fellow walks up and tells Anastasia to sing in her real voice…”You’re too high!” he protests. She claps her hands (out of time, but joyfully) and totally ignores him. She prances around on her heels without a topple in sight.
I notice a man over in a corner, alone. He is wearing heavy sunglasses. After awhile, I reallize he is watching me. He removes his glasses and I see a giant shiner on his right eye. A scratch along his cheek. But as my group wraps up a song, we are swept over to another part of the room, a part of a moving mass of people, so we sing in another area of
the open forum for awhile.
Margaret is there, too, the young girl from yesterday. She runs up and gives me a super hug. I hug her back, careful not to thwack anyone with my guitar. She wants to sing “Joy to the World,” just the two of us. She leans over and tells Anastasia, “you can’t sing on this with us!” and Anastasia shakes her fake curls and says, “Well! You know how to wreck a Christmas!” and walks off in a huff. Margaret doesn’t care a whit. She’s excited. We are singing for her boyfriend, she says…”He’s just over there…See him? At that table?” I squint…which one, I wonder? But I shake, “Yea, I see him!” I say.
We sing the song twice through. The second time the karaoke people have arrived and bump into Margaret, shoving her slightly off balance. She is frantic and angry. “HEY!” she hollers. “Oh, NEVERMIND! It’s RUINED! Allll ruined NOW!” and stomps away to my, “Margaret, wait…hey, Margaret!” But she is off and swallowed up by a line of people consuming cookies and waiting to go upstairs for thermal underwear.
I take the moment to head back over to the man with the black eye. Yes, he is still there. I shyly walk around a corner and approach him from the side. I find the end of a desk, prop my guitar on my knee, and lean in to sing a quiet rendition of “Chestnuts Roasting on an open fire….” His face breaks into a grin. We are smiling, silently at one another…
I see his body relax.
“Thank you,” he whispers to me as I sing.
“HEY! I need to talk to you!” says a booming voice. I turn at the interruption, and shake my head slightly, “no…not now” I am saying and I return to singing….
When I finish, we hug. The man and I, strangers on a sunny, cold afternoon. Knowing we will never meet again, and letting the moment linger.
I turn to a row of seats, to this new man who is waiting to talk to me.
And here is my story:
The man begins to ramble, quickly. I stop him to ask his name. His name is Jerry, he says. He must apologize to me, twice now, he says. Slow down, I say. What are you needing to apologize to ME for, I say…
He says, “Well, I came to apologize to you about one thing and now I need to apologize to you for interrupting your song…”
“Oh, no!” I say…”No need…but I did need to finish the song, you understand…”
“Oh, yea…Yea, of course! I’m just sorry I didn’t shut up!” he says.
“Well, that is kind of you, but no worries…” I take his hand. He seems nervous.
He begins to tell me how he has been looking for me for two years. He had met me at another event on behalf of the homeless, and he and I had spoken, and I had promised to put him on my guest list for a show at La Zona Rosa.
“Oh! Oh, dear!” I say, a grimace on my face. “And…Did I forget to put you on the list?”
“No, no! Nothing like that…You kept your promise. You put me on the list. But I was mad. I was mad out of my skull.
I had been drinking and I knew if I walked across town to see your show, I would lose my place to sleep that night…
but I had promised YOU I would come to your show…So, I did it. I walked to your show, but when I got inside, well…”
And here he sort of fumbles. I squeeze his hand.
“Well…” he continues…”I was so drunk and mad I took it out on you and said some things at you on stage that weren’t very nice…”
I can’t recall any hecklers or mean folks at my show from that night, and I tell him so.
“Oh, no…I was horrible…” he looks embarrassed.
I reassure him. I tell him it is all ok and obviously it didn’t bother me at all…I ask him where he slept that night?
“In a stairwell…” he replies.
I feel horrible. I tell him how sorry I am that he slept out in the cold just to come see me sing! I am so honored, I say.
I stumble, too. What should I say? I feel for him.
He goes on to say that that is why he wanted to apologize because he was so sick with what he had done that night that he was sick for one whole week after that. Literally, physically, ill.
I tell him to let go of any thing he is holding on to because he has been so kind to find me and tell me his story.
And it makes me wish I could apologize as sweetly as he has to those I have hurt. The courage.
posted by Sara Hickman at 07:11 pm
comments (0) | e-mail this entry | permalink | digg it
My Christmas Message
December 27, 2004
Until Friday and Saturday. Yes, this was Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Yes, our spirits were merry and light…even with cedar fever in the air…!….but we bundled up in the chilly morning air, my family and me, as we headed down to the Homeless Brunch at First United Methodist Church, directly across from the capitol of downtown Austin, and spent Christmas Eve morning serving nearly 400 of Austin’s homeless.
For two and half hours we sang Christmas songs, poured coffee, offered to bring more egg cassarole, and generally performed seva (the act of giving) to fulfill the needs of many. Lily passed out gloves and hats, and even, shyly, sang upon the microphone. Soon, a gaggle of girls were upon the makeshift stage, of all ages, singing their hearts out,
some dressed as reindeer, some dressed as elves, some wearing bright green tee shirts that read “Feed My People.”
I found myself, once again, with tears on my cheeks, in awe of the sweetness children bring. Kathleen, one of our ministers, was thoughtfully pounding away at the piano, reminding me of my grandmother and her long fingers, elegantly stepping through the keys, bringing life and magic that a piano can bring to any party. Kathleen has kinky, gray hair and sparkling bluish-grayish eyes. You can NOT feel unhappy or dis-ease when you are in the presence of Kathleen. She has the spirit of love all about her.
We met many new friends…Margaret, who must be no older than 19, with fallen dirty blonde curls and glasses, enthusiastically asking if she can play “Ode to Joy” on the piano. And then getting so nervous when it was her turn that she forgot how to play it except in single notes. Anastasia, in his/her silver pumps with
rasta wig and elegant red and black boustier, bustling around, keeping things lively. The man in the yellow vest parka, who came up and asked me to stop crying because it made him sad. The tall, happy man who asked if I was a pastor’s wife, and when I asked what that meant to him, he replied, “You know…full of elegance and lovingness.” I immediately wanted to be a pastor’s wife, so Lance will now be attending seminary!
To see the amount of people, pouring in to our church, needing so much, is a very humbling thing. For a country that has so much…it is a puzzle to me how invisible the homeless are in our society, and yet, they are a growing community within our midst. I scratch my head every day…what can I do? What can I do….Do you see a pattern here? “What can I do” has been my mantra ever since I was a candy striper at 14…that was when I delivered flowers and urine samples and realized, “This is not enough. What can I do?”
Well, to continue on…Friday afternoon, we played around with the girls, and around 4 went over to Aunt Cindy’s with gifts, homemade sweet potatoes (you have just GOT to try my homemade sweet potatoes some day…I have a secret ingredient which makes them extra super universally yummy!!!) Hey! That gives me an idea….maybe someday I’ll make a dinner and serve it up and people could donate money to the dinner party and that money could go towards a shelter/educational/rehabilatative service(s) for the homeless…Hmm! I’ll have to ponder on that!
Being at Aunt Cindy’s is always a treat because she really gets into dressing the tree. This year her theme was blue…so blue lights, blue sparkling feathers placed just so among the branches, and silver balls made of tiny little bound twigs…And her house smells good, like Christmas should….nutmeg, vanilla and cinnamon, with a hint of peppermint…all good…except…except she has a little brown dog that is like a quick brown fox and it jump jump jumps and does that rear end shaky thing…and, being a dog, it lunges on you immediately as you enter the house, where you can’t go backwards because people are piling in behind you, and you can’t go forward for fearing of crushing the dog or falling on the newly decorated tree…and it always proves to me I’m such a cat person…yesh! give me a lap of five, furry, purring cats, but a jumpy, licky dog…UGH! well, I just have to focus on a glass of ice water or where to put the packages or immediately think about the fact that Bush is still president…anything to not think about the dog…
Mind you, I love dogs, really, especially big, gentle dogs that lay around and sleep all day…but little jumpy dogs…they always want to smell your crotch, so I have to let go, say, “Ok, here you go, go on! Get to know me!” and thrust my lower body into the air and then drink from the glass of said water I mentioned last paragraph…and hum or check my nails as they take their time, violating me with their wet, black nose.. finding out more about me than I’ll ever know. Then, as if they’ve all attended the same dog school, they ALWAYS do that little sneeze/sniff, shake their heads violently back and forth, up and down: as if to add a finishing touch, as if to say, “Yep. You pass inspection. Come on in! And I know you had brocolli yesterday.”
Enough foolishness!
The big news is that Lance’s father walked on his prosthetic yesterday for the first time, including walking up stairs into Cindy’s home. The last four years have been a giant strain on our wee family, with medical plagues descending upon Lance’s father one after another. Just when there would seem to be an answer to a problem, three more would spring up out of no where. I will not relay all the minute details, but suffice it to say that this man has endured more than any person I have ever known, and I have known many who have suffered. For him to walk those forty feet and up the stairs was a tremedous hurdle, as my girls and I were cheering him on (“Go, Grandpa! You can do it! Come on! Hooray!”) as Lance, Lance’s mother, and Aunt Cindy all supported him on this new journey to regained freedom.
Again, we were all choked up with pride, relief, gratitude and, may I say, wonder at how strange life can be.
But, I have strayed from my original intent. The story I wish to share is one of many, I am discovering!
I think the particular story I have in mind will have to wait until tomorrow, though, because I must return to bed and try to sleep a few hours before the sun peeks in and shakes me with her gentle glow.
posted by Sara Hickman at 02:58 am
comments (0) | e-mail this entry | permalink | digg it
This Quiet House
December 23, 2004
I walk through the house, black as a cave, and I hear the sounds of sleep filled breathing. I feel like a ghost. A ghost in pink pajamas with cartoon dogs chasing cartoon cats. I wander the halls and find myself wondering, “What do I do now? Where shall I sit? What is on my mind?” And the dark is so deep. It is like swimming in black air.
I find a chair. Sometimes I get cozy on the sofa and fall back asleep. Mostly, I do nothing.
I just wander until I am ready to return back to bed, and pray for sleep, and listen to my husband’s gentle snore.
Occassionally, I lay my hand on the small of my husband’s warm back, or rest my hand in his, if it is exposed and near by. Just the touch of his skin on my skin brings me great comfort. I don’t feel as if I am floating. The human connection anchors me beyond belief. He never wakes, he just keeps on sleeping, and that is so good. I don’t like waking others.
Tonight, I sang in chapel. I sang “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” and “Noel”. I have a head cold, so I sounded rather stuffy. But I wanted to sing. I wanted to be there. I had to use a microphone as I had no oomph in my projection.
The high notes on “Noel” are so satisfying…it feels like a spiritual liquid gold is pouring from my body. I cannot describe the pure joy of singing any other way. It is astounding to be a vessel for sound and to deliver that sound from the depths of your being and out into the world.
Afterwards, we shared wassail and sugared cranberries, like the colonists. Gathered around the table, perhaps 18 of us…I thought, “This is such a good community.” I really did. I kept hugging everyone, and thinking how fortunate I am to know so many kind souls. I was literally jumping with joy, doing little steps, smiling with glee. Then I was introduced to a woman whom I did not know, nor had I ever seen before, and we started talking and then I just held her for the longest time. She was so very blue. I held her and held her until she stopped holding on to the societal committment of that 20 second hug. My arms around her shoulders, her head on mine, we just stood there in the party, embracing, holding onto one another. Tears were streaming down her face and all I could think to say was, “I know, I know…” in the softest whisper. I know her sadness.
I wish I could set up a little chair on the street with a sign that says, “Free hugs.” Maybe I will. Maybe I will just hop downtown on the Dillo bus (it’s free, you know…little buses that look like cable cars)…with a folding chair and a piece of cardboard. And just share hugs with strangers on the street.
Yes, I know. You’re thinking, perhaps, that this sounds nutty. Why is it nutty? Why is it nutty to love the world so much?
This pain I feel for all the pain I see…my god, it hurts to see all the lonliness on this planet.
My brain just will not stop.
It is Christmas, and since my last entry, I have cleaned, moved three sofas…given our table to a family from war torn Liberia that has been given a chance here in America…dear friend Michael came over with his truck and we loaded up a door and some window glass for Habitat, as well…and while Lance was at work, the girls, our dear friend, Kevin, and I all decorated the tree and it is… stunning! A living tree in the new addition, complete with lights, treasured decorations and tinsel…ah, how it lights up the night! And our fireplace! For two days we have had WOOD in the fireplace, crackling and popping and delivering the warmth of holiday cheer.
Our home smells smoky good…as if we are those colonists of long ago, settled into our cabin, awaiting the arrival of
rare spices so that our wassail can be complete…mmm…cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves….what can send the mind racing back to days of childhood faster than these tantalizing spices?
Ok, I’m just wandering mentally, now. I can feel my eyes finally getting lulled back into a place of sleepiness. Funny, I’ve been to three sleep specialists over the last ten years, and they all three had different comments on how to sleep better. The latest one said the WORST thing to do was to get on the computer.
I’ll end on a high note: Yesterday, Lily, io, Kevin and I went down to the Greenbelt and hiked down to a giant rock where we enjoyed a picnic lunch. Nestled blocks from our house, we are suddenly in the heart of the Colorado Rockies…I swear, it feels like that! A churning, bustling white water rapid runs through this ancient rock, and all around us, canyon walls with turkey buzzards swooping up overhead. People with their dogs and the occassional kayaker pass by. The sun was hot. The air was crisp, but not too cool. We had cherries on the stem, lemonade, sandwiches, popcorn and
homemade Christmas cookies. Our friend, Marty, phoned down and walked down the gorgeous wooded path to join us, as well. iolana found a large stick and set to pretending she was a sherpa. Lily was imploring Aunt Kevina (Kevin’s official family name) not to leave. Her lip was very protruding. She was sad. I was sad! I did not want the day to end, either. A picnic in the middle of the day with family and friends and the sky so happy.
I raise a toast to the joy of being under the same sky! Merry Christmas!
posted by Sara Hickman at 02:08 am
comments (0) | e-mail this entry | permalink | digg it
Almost Christmas
December 17, 2004
Christmas is almost here. Our house is a disaster, but that’s ok. We have been in “new addition” mode for the last six months…we tore off our old screened in porch (which had a GIANORMOUS colony of carpenter ants! shudder!) and have been in the process of adding a family room. With a FIREPLACE! Now Santa can enter our home properly!
The tree isn’t up. There is dust everywhere. But we are together, and we are a family of love. That makes the
season beautiful!
I’m apologizing for not getting to my blog lately…I’m behind in a million ways. The holidays bring added opportunity for me/us to extend love in a myriad of ways, so I have to put things like online journals aside for a bit.
More soon, I promise. But, if for some reason I can’t return soon…let me say “Merry Christmas” to you. May your season be warm and bright and may strangers greet you with true courtesy and affection. May the entire world be showered with peace.
From the girl and her guitar
posted by Sara Hickman at 02:03 pm
comments (2) | e-mail this entry | permalink | digg it
Grammy / David Letterman
December 07, 2004
Today is the day we find out about BIG KID and if it is in the TOP FIVE FINALISTS for the Grammy nominations.
Today is the day I will stay calm and pray and hope that all these years of hard work will be celebrated in a new way.
Today I am thinking about David Letterman. There is a very nice human being who is telling me he can get me on Letterman. I do not know if you all know this but I love David Letterman. I have loved him for a very, very long time. All the way back to when he had his own daytime talk show.
I have always dreamed of going on David’s show. What song would I sing? Who would go with me? What would I wear? What would I say when David comes up after the musician sings and he whispers in your ear.
Oh, I am going to faint.
It is all too much. Will this dream become a reality? Will it…?
posted by Sara Hickman at 08:04 am
comments (1) | e-mail this entry | permalink | digg it
Page 1 of 1 pages
sarahickman.com | Bio | Music | Shows | Press | Store | Community | Zooks
Copyright © 1993-2007 Sara Hickman/Sleeveless, LLC | 297953
Whether you've learned about Sara Hickman through her music, her family, her causes, or her films, you know that her originality, creativity, and enthusiasm bring a fresh meaning to the well-worn phrase "living life to the fullest."
What makes Sara tick? What has she been up to since she first hit the ground running (well, at least crawling in the early years)?
Read a complete bio at sarahickman.com.
Visit Start the Dialogue
Click here to preview!
Click here to Order!
Press Coverage
KUT's Austin Music Minute
Jupiter Index interview
Motherlode Reviews
Sara heads the Austin Chronicle Fortunate 500 Music List once again!
Here's the 2006 list.
Listen and vote for Sara on the American Idol Underground, featuring on-demand streams of popular artists like Sara!
Check out this cool map showing where Sara fans are across the nation -- and add yourself to the map!
Motherlode
Click here to preview!
Click here to order!
Faithful Heart
Click here to preview!
Click here to order!
Big Kid
Click here to preview!
Click here to order!
Featuring "Look At Me" as heard on American Idol!
I Am Going On A Journey: the DVD
Click here to preview!
Click here to order!
