So named by painter Georgia O'Keeffe, the "white place" (La Plaza Blanca) is a geologically unique, stunningly picturesque area near the Rio Chama and Abiquiu in the state of New Mexico, USA. It was a favored painting location for O'Keeffe and is visible from her house in Abiquiu Pueblo. Nikki and I spent a beautiful morning there during our visit to New Mexico in November of 2019. Nikki had a vigor that had been absent since her diagnosis, and it seemed as if the chemotherapy through which she had been suffering was perhaps working. Little did either of us imagine that she had only ten weeks to live. This was the last hike we took together.

This song was the first track recorded during the "She Who Watches" sessions in December of 2020. It features guitar, Native American flute, mandolin, and accordion.

La Plaza Blanca
 
You could see it from
Her house in Abiquiú
Across the Rio Chama
Georgia’s skull-white
Landscape muse
It is owned now by a mosque
Dar al Islam
That grants us heathens
And pilgrims of Other
Respectful access
To this pallid sanctum
Of tuneful wind
Raven song ringing beyond
Chalky hoodoos and
Along milky ledges
Pastel creek beds
That seem to run
More ways than
One
 
Then silence
Then song again
Then wind
Then none
 
With the ghost of Georgia and
The hosts of Muhammed
We are tracking a shadowy past
Slipping through Crescent fences
Of barbwire and bone
Pondering strange exhibits
Of black stones on this ashen canvas
Stretching beyond time
 
This sun-bleached forever
Is quite hard to find
There are no signs
And the address in the local guide
Is 1234 Fictitious Lane.

I learned this ancient Sanskrit chant from my friend, master sitarist and singer, Pandit Deobrat Mishra of Varanasi, India. Not long after Nikki was diagnosed with cancer, I took a workshop on naad yoga with Debu and learned several beautiful chants. Chanting has since been an important facet of my grief-work and my attempt to heal. I am grateful to Debu and to my yoga teacher, Maddie Adams, for instilling in me a love for this practice.

The Indalo Wind interpretation of this sacred mantra features Native American flute, and shruti, a traditional Indian instrument that produces a drone using a system of bellows (similar to a harmonium, but without the keyboard). It was recorded in December 2020.

It had been decades since I had played electric guitar. I started up again recently and have found it to be very therapeutic. I just play, just to play, without any destinations or expectations, focused on the present, which is fluid, always at hand but so hard to grasp. There is something very liberating about it, something, dare I say, primordial. Is it practice? I guess. Is it creation? Maybe. Is it something I want to keep doing? Definitely.

"Zuñi Sunrise" is a traditional Native American melody which was first transcribed into western notation and published as sheet music in 1913 by Carlos Troyer.  (Charles Troyer, born in Frankfurt, Germany in 1837, was a pianist/composer/teacher who immigrated to America and settled in San Francisco sometime before 1871. He began using the name Carlos in 1885 and became known for his arrangements of Native American melodies. His transcription of "Zuñi Sunrise" was widely reprinted in books for schoolchildren and the scouting movement.) I first heard it as sung by the legendary Navajo singer, Ed Lee Natay, on a recording made by Canyon Records in 1951. This version was playing in the reconstructed great kiva at Aztec National Monument in Aztec, New Mexico, during my first visit there in 1990. I was entranced by the haunting simplicity and beauty of the melody. Soon afterward, I learned it on the Native American flute (by ear from the Natay recording) so I could perform it as part of my theater piece, Desert Time. The song has been part of my repertoire ever since. I have played it at weddings and funerals. I have played it in depths of the Grand Canyon, in the Maze, and on the banks of the San Juan River as a wake-up tune for rafters. I have played it for audiences in Greece, Cambodia, and Laos. I performed it for a class at the Naropa Institute taught by Native flute master, R. Carlos Nakai, who had recorded the melody for his 1983 debut album, Changes. In 2013, I was pleased to finally record my own version for Indalo Wind's debut album. On this recording, I play a six-hole red cedar flute made by legendary Cherokee flute-maker, Hawk Littlejohn, which I purchased from his daughter at a powwow in Durham, North Carolina in 1992. It is my favorite flute and one which has traveled far and wide.

Steve, a gifted songwriter, wrote most of the songs although Chris contributed tracks as well. We played extended jams that were free and energetic, funky and psychedelic. We weren't always brilliant but we were pretty fearless. Steve and I both played acoustic-electric guitars but I used a few effects on my leads. Chris played fretless bass. Rich, a muscular, former-Marine, played with great skill and boundless energy on a kit that seemed as big as Carl Palmer's. (Our load-ins and breakdowns were famously arduous.) Our music was once described as "energetic acoustic groove". The band did not remain together long, perhaps six months, but it was a pretty fun ride while it lasted. During our time together, we played several times at Quixote's in Aurora, which was then the foremost Dead-centered bar on the Front Range. Lots of tie-dye and long hair. Our gigs lasted over four hours and people danced to the end.  We also played once at The Buffalo Rose, a legendary biker-friendly venue in Golden. A few days after us, the headliner was Blue Oyster Cult.

The track featured here, "Neighbors", was recorded at The Bluebird, a well-known venue in Denver. We were performing as part of a four band showcase. The song is a funky instrumental composed by Chris Wangelin, whose dynamic bass playing is the centerpiece. I loved playing this one am happy to have this recording.