Ode to Priska

Priska Hoeger-Rogers
June 13, 1918 -- July 13, 2009


Priska had all the time in the world. She had time to raise four children, and to watch them become loving, productive adults and raise families of their own. She even got to see some of them as they are raising their own families, and took great joy in knowing that more are on the way. Her constant love and support have been a source of strength and has bound us to one another.

Priska walked this earth with an open mind. Though she had her own beliefs, she understood and honored the beliefs of others, and respected their choices. There are so many lessons she taught us, and those she knew we had to find out for ourselves. She was always ready to help, but had the wisdom to let us make our own way.

Priska had time for her friends. A cup of coffee, some apple cake and a little chat to brighten the afternoon. On her daily walks, she always had a few minutes to stop and talk with those she met along her way. Step by step, smile by smile, she endeared herself to those who were lucky enough to have been on her path.

Priska had time to visit her family in Germany, strengthening the family ties across the continents. She had time to really enjoy her grandchildren. To read and play and swing and laugh and play Bumpa Rider and to just cuddle for a little bit. She was never afraid to look a little silly, as she wore a crown of balloons or danced a little chicken polka on a Sunday afternoon.

Priska had time to nourish a garden and to crochet beautiful blankets stitch by stitch, until her hands would no longer cooperate. She loved flowers and nature and she knew that while things can make you more comfortable, what makes life worth living--the fabric of your life is woven of the love of your family and friends, meeting the challenges of life with strength and humor, enjoying all of the little blessings, and in how you spend your time. Priska had all the time in the world, and I'm so grateful that she spent it loving all of us.

Improvisation

We have a saying around our house that there is no situation, no matter how dire, that cannot be improved if it comes with a free taco.

Stuff happens. When I got the message from Pascal that the workshop we had planned would have to be postponed (through no fault of his own) my heart sunk. Two of his eager students were sitting at the table across from me, and I knew that others had driven or flown in that day from far afield, and were settling in for the week at local lodgings, filled with anticipation for the opportunity to study with one of the best regarded muralists in our field.

We met at class time the following morning to discuss our options, and decided that since we had a well stocked studio, a beautiful day, a lot of food, and time set aside, we should take the opportunity to explore some of the techniques that I have come up with in my 20+ years of painting, and possibly share tips and tricks with one another--a paint jam of sorts. Still getting over our initial disappointment, we started going through boards when the whole group was drawn to a sample--Can we do that one? Yes, yes I think we can. And a demo on this? Yes, that should be fine. And this one other technique? Ok, we'll start here and see how it goes. No whining. Resignation turned to curiosity, interest peaked. This may not be so bad, even if it's not what we came for. Eerily, there were primed and even pre-textured materials just sitting around the studio that were perfectly suited for the tasks at hand, in quantities just sufficient to the number of students attending.

And so it went. We were all sorry that Pascal couldn't make it, and our hearts went out to him because he didn't have the benefit of the wonderful time we had once we got over the disappointment of his impending absence. This amazing group of people came and learned, laughed and generously shared their insights and their knowledge and created a synergy that was a gift to all participants. With it came an unexpected bond, touching every heart in what might easily have gone awry had the participants not had the openness to let things unfold into the painting-eating-wine drinking-birthday party-music making conversation fest that emerged.

It came with a free taco.

Chat to Pick Ratio

New Year's Eve brought us a gathering of many of our best friends in the world who are also some of the best musicians we know. It used to be that we would get together with other musicians frequently and play until our fingers fell off and our heads were nodding. We would visit in between songs and when we took a break to eat, but then back to the reason we came together-great pickin'. The raw enthusiasm and intensity of those times were wonderful, but have now given way to a greater interest in the purely social aspect, to the point where our chat-to-pick ratio is sometimes 100-0%.

That's a little embarrassing, somehow. But I don't think it's really from a lack of energy, but rather a shift of focus. We know more of each other now--the selves outside the music. The selves that drove us to play and to write and to travel and share that and other parts of ourselves with other people around the world and at home. And the more we know, the more we want to know of these amazing people we call our friends. And the opportunity for them to get to know one another was too great to spend on making music.

I'm grateful to have them for any day, doing anything, but next time, we really should pick!