Be set free to sing or hum along

My Little Miracle #3 was home just recently and commented that I had not written a blog post in over a year. I am not a very good blogger.

As I think about this, I feel as though I limp at nearly everything I do. I want to change that. Wish me luck and be my cheerleader.

Songs. Very recently, I spent several days in the Texas desert with a beautiful band of songsmiths. This was my third opportunity to be with this incredibly gifted and special crew of folks, a murder of crows if you will. I am forever indebted to J Wagner for inviting me in, to him and to many others beside him. Thank you. Thank you.

I have been writing songs nearly all of my life. There have been seasons when I have shared them, but looking back these seasons seem far too scarce. The Crooked Crows have called me out and spurred me on in a manner I just did not see coming. I am ever so grateful for this.

This song was born as I was telling two of my dear friends about my impending trip down to Chinati Hot Springs, just up the road from Ruidosa, Texas. “Where is it?” My answer was a song. The moment I spoke the words I knew it. Once spoken aloud, I set about finding it.

Even as I shared the lyrics (below), I see I am limping here. This is a fair rendition, but likely not the final incantation. Nonetheless, going to share it.

For those whishing to play, sing, hum, or harp along; I am playing it in G.

Almost Mexico

The Crows are gathering and I want to go
Almost Mexico
I’ve been singing my songs too long alone
Almost Mexico

Hey
I’m on my way
Through the night
Through the day
Almost Mexico
Almost Mexico

Traveling mercies, Lord, I need
It’s a long old road ahead of me
Wind and Rain don’t you slow me down
Can’t be soon enough I’ll be rolling out

Chorus

Desert wind and starry sky
Sing a melody sweet for me tonight
Sister dream whisper soft in lines
And when that rooster crows I’ll rise and sing in time

chorus

Traveling mercies Lord I need
It’s a long old road in front of me
When I roll in I’m gonna rest these bones
and when the music sounds
I’m gonna sing along

© scot phegley 2024

Today is Father’s Day.

It is early morning. The first to rise, I have brewed myself some coffee in a beloved French press that my family gave to me. In a quiet corner of the house, I have pulled out a few instruments and have been investigating some music theory concepts with which I do not yet have mastery. There is a voluminous trove of music theory concepts from which I can choose, so far from mastery am I.

Recently, a dear friend of mine asked me where he could find and revisit this tune that I had at one time or another shared. What an incredible compliment for an artist. “Where is that song? Somewhere I can find and listen to it?”

The only place it was findable was via the privately shared link to an MP3 file residing on one of the myriad cloud storage services. Today, I will improve upon that at least somewhat.

I wrote this song one evening when a youngster in our community, a friend’s child, was going through a rough patch. This proved to be a long and immensely rocky rough patch for this one and this family. I shared the song with this particular friend, a father, on the evening that I put it down. It seemed a timely share. May God bless and keep our children, and even us. Amen.

I do not share songs enough. If you are reading this, you know it is true. I am sharing nothing new.

It is an incredible grace to have a true friend. It is an incredible grace to have an imperfect friend. Surely we are, each of us, imperfect friends to those we call such on our best days. For those of us lucky enough to be dad or mom, it is nothing but an incredible grace.

My children are to me a joy that I did not see coming. Of course, I felt joy and excitement, and fear, as the expectations built at that time when each of them had a due date. What I am wishing to express is that the joy that they have brought and shared has proved far beyond any hopes I might have mustered.

Enough of this rambling and failing to express my thoughts this morning. Perhaps you have offered on up like this one set to melody. Be invited to play, sing, or hum along. I am playing it here in G Major.

And if you happen to have not listened to the new songs on the streaming services, I invite you to check them out. They should be findable on all of the services.

Spotify | Apple | YouTube | Amazon

I shared a new song this week. The link is shared below this post.

As I open my new-age electronic notebook to write this morning, I feel weary. I have had plenty of rest. I have had plenty to eat. Last night was not brimming over with frivolous shenanigans. My friend, Ryan, would ask me what I have been eating. Likely a good question. Nonetheless. At least for this morning, I am limping a little bit.

Over the last few days, I have listened to a one-time acquaintance discuss the nature of music and art via the magic of democratized television. Somehow, these discussions and the ideas they carry and offer found me. As I listened in, I knew that I needed them. I sent an overly verbose “thank you”. This is a thing I do.

This is an idea, a truth, of which I want to take hold and cleave to as for dear life. Perhaps for dear life describes it best. This seems an oddity to me, even though I cannot help but write something about presses upon me that I do not value these expressions nearly highly enough. Guilty.

I shared a new song this week by way of the internet airwaves. I refuse to bemoan the state of modern music. That I can write and share a song with whomever wishes to listen wherever in the world they happen to be does not cease to astound me.

This morning, I spent a little time digging into statements on the phrase “Art for art’s sake”. What a treasure trove of deep encouragement. Below are a few that sang to me.

“Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.” – Edgar Degas

“I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way – things I had no words for.” – Georgia O’Keefe

“The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” – Pablo Picasso

I shared a new song this week. Check it out if you are so inclined. If you wish to play along, join for the joy of it, or practice your improvisational noodling, I am playing it here in F major.

Links: Spotify | Apple | Amazon | Pandora | etc.