Ironically, the first time I heard the Beatle’s iconic song, “Eleanor Rigby,” was as a patient being treated for clinical depression at the Menninger Clinic in 1970. One of the other patients at the Clinic was a young man in his late teens or early twenties. Some of us nicknamed him “California Boy” or “Surfer Boy.” He usually stayed in his room listening to his newest album on his personal record player. Occasionally, he’d share his music with those of us who listened to music played on the … [Read more...]
Celebrating Our Precious Hands
My musical blog yesterday focused on a sculpture of my left hand that I made recently. I have always loved hands. As a small child, the image of God’s hands was prevalent in the books given to us at the beginning of each term in our Sunday school classes. Our hands reveal so much about us: our age, our race and, for some, the kind of work we do. PaPa, my mother’s father, had hands that were large, strong, ruddy and gnarled but, at the same time, gentle and loving when he prayed and played … [Read more...]
