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So, on my birthday I head to the Great Outdoors.  As is all too common, I had an encounter with a wild animal.
Cute American Mink

Whilst sitting lakeside, sunning myself on some larger rocks, I discovered I was not the only one enjoying the weather.

I heard a faint rustle from underneath a large bolder, looked over and thought I saw the face of a rat. I let out a squeal, not unlike The Dude when the marmot was thrown into his bath water. The “rat” let out a similar squeal, which was obviously not “rat-like”. Needless to say, we were both surprised and unpleased.
I quickly stood up, more than willing to vacate the premises, when the animal bounded out from hiding and atop another bolder behind me. It was definitely bigger than a rat, about 3 lbs, and a bushy long tail and ferret like face. It was blocking me from my escape. I proceeded to make scary human noises so that it would scurry away (hopefully), but it was not altogether pleased by my attempts at intimidation.
Not too long after, I made good my escape, and the “marmot” (I was now calling it) departed as well.
Scary American mink
After returning to civilization, getting to Google, I discovered this interesting fauna was in fact, an American mink. Which, I also, discovered has the capacity to spray a dreadful scent not unlike a skunk. Fortunately, the mink kept his “ink”.
Factoids
Other wild animals I have been attacked by:
several various parrots, eagles, wild brumbies (horses), grey fantails (birds), kangaroos (yes, they can be quite territorial), the occasional reptile including lizards and turtles, and once, a fairly ferocious goose.
Fortunately, other encounter with more docile creatures, like echidnas and field mice have led to little or no personal injury.
I am starting to conclude that I have a threatening scent. 🙂

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Last night I went to my first lesbian night club.

(pause for you to catch your breath)

Like so many of the diverse and amazing experiences I’ve had in my life, I have music to thank for it. As usual, I am always curious as to how the music I play will adapt to those who have come to listen. Of course, the lyrics and music are set, they are the same wherever I play them. Still there is an amazing effect that happens each night when so many different individuals come together, each from their own private world, and enter into the community of a concert.

I talk about this a lot. The concept that we individually connect with music in our private rooms, tying the song to some place deep in our hearts. Then when we follow the sound, we find others at the epicenter, drawn as we were, to the place of shared ground and find that ours is not a lonely journey at all. What’s more, we are often surprised as to who find there…

In my mind, I imagined what Sisters Night Club was going to be like when I got there. Of all that I could conjure up, I can tell you I wasn’t even close to guessing. Every color, every gender, urban, sub-urban, the churched and areligious; there were straight married couples, L’s, G’s, B’s & T’s…It was beautiful! Like the biggest and best box of crayons you could imagine. I couldn’t have been more wrong about who I thought I would meet, and I couldn’t have been more delighted to be found in error.

But it wasn’t the diversity alone that made it special. It was the spirit of those who were there that made the evening so touching. As we allowed our differences to fade, we gathered our courage to connect with others around us: just as we came, are and hope to, someday, be.

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Hop down to any pub and share a schooner with your Aussie (Australian) mates (translation: share a chat and a beer with your friends) and, before long, the reminiscing begins. You remember the good times with the bad, recall friends you haven’t seen in ages. Some living the good life and others not so much. But you still love them, and you raise a toast, wishing them the best wherever they may be. For those who have walked a less glamorous or even arduous path, there is a phrase that is commonly used: He’s been through the wars.

The conversation may go something like this:

Bloke #1: “Yeah, mate, what’s up with Jennifer these days? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Bloke #2: “Yeah, no, yeah. She’s been through the wars, but she’s alright. Heard she’s back to the ole entertainment thing again.”

Bloke #1: “Now that’s a yarn I’d like to hear her tell…”

Somewhere in the phrase, there’s an appreciation that whatever scars we receive, they carry the hope of our potential to create character. I can think of few American phrases that we use that release us from the shame of how we get into our precarious messes and still hold esteem for the battle weary.

It’s the term that comes to my mind when I think of Christa Black.

I know Christa from our time together “on the road.” She’s a talented violinist who has spent countless hours enduring the bliss of the spotlight and the grind of the confined and yet, exposed life on the tour bus. She’s toured with me, Michael W. Smith…even the Jonas Brothers!

Like many of the musicians supporting the artists you know and love, she has a story of her own. Let’s just say, she’s been through the wars.

Recently she penned her first book “God Loves Ugly” . It is a courageous account of  her head-on war with an eating disorder. From struggle to insight, she has come out the other side with a story to tell. No surprise, the artist in her has set the story free to do it’s work.

Visit her here: www.christablack.com