There's a purpose to my efforts, and a reason for my struggle.
When I reach out for the stars, I tumble down the mountain.
For I am only one small life, in this vast universe.
Can I make any difference, somewhere to life upon this earth.
For I am only one small life. I am only one small life. I am only, one small life.
Now I hold my head up high, such a heavy thing to do.
And the spirit that I follow, tells me that I'm no fool.
So from my secluded place, and grand stance upon this ground.
I am only one small life, burning proud.
I want to ride the raging seas, and walk the desert sands.
I want to feel lightening strike, the palm of my hand.
I am only one small life, I am only one small life, I am only . . .
Can I make any difference, can I make any difference, can I make any difference . . .
To, one, small, life.
This is a Disney style song I wrote with my writing partner, Angelo Miranda in 2001 and a huge departure from my typical style. I had the words and the melody and I sang it to him and he created a lovely piano arrangement around it. It was a great moment in time. We recorded it immediately on my first recording unit, an Alesis Adat machine in my living room, one quiet night. We "struck while the iron was hot", so my mother would say. The Adat had a high pitched hum I remember that the mic would pick up. But, you could line in to it and record and it converted from analog to digital A/D as we say. Angelo played piano and I sang and that was it. Thank goodness we did, because that recording was later transferred into my computer and I still have it today where it sits patiently and quietly in the tower. We never performed it live and no one outside of Angelo and I have heard this piece.
My dream is to hear a children's choir sing One Small Life. I think that is the voice that this song deserves. It is one of my biggest dreams to hear the song through a children's choir in a beautiful theater with great acoustics. Of all of the music that I have written, this is a song I never performed because I simply cannot get through it. I do not know what it is. Not only that, but as a musician, My particular voice isn't the right fit. It needs a much bigger voice. Some of my fans may disagree though. I am sure they want to hear it.
Sometimes, when music comes to us as quickly as this song came to me, I believe it is a gift from another place. It feels like a long lost friend or relative that knocks on your door and says "Here I am. I'm here now. Do something with me". I have a body of music that came just like that in 2001.
Most of my songs are set in an old world theme . . . a soldier on a battlefield. They are filled with timeless metaphors. These were captured in the Celticana Live CD. I have 1000 of them still sitting in their cases unopened and I used to sell my music up until recently on CD Baby. I sold out of my first physical record, Soldier's Daughter. My band and I recorded Celticana Live one night on that same Adat machine which we took out to Patrick's Irish pub in Poway, California, a suburb of San Diego. The actual record is lacking in decent recording quality and is flawed. My fans did not care as I received many emails over the content of the record. But, my mastering engineer Bernie Torellli, said "sounds like shiiiittt", in his french accent. And it did. But is that a reason to bury the record? Now that it is almost 2020 and all this time has passed, I am seeing it differently, as is the case with our aging art.
It was just a room sound and our mics lined into the board and not recorded or mixed well. But like it was with that time, I was more focused on the performances we were doing as opposed to recording quality, so I took it for granted unfortunately. Like, I said, it was a moment in time as all artistic project are. However, Celticana Live (Preserving Tradition With New Distinction) is still there and the words and the music preserved for maybe sometime in the future when they might emerge once again. Aaron's Song on that record is an amazing piece of music and a strong, passionate collaboration with the musicians playing with me at the time. Floyd Fronius on electric violin, Ray Conseur on percussion, Angelo on piano, and myself on guitars and vocals. Artwork by Vince Mehan.
I can still feel every note. I can feel my band mates and our performances. The passion we had for that one moment in time and the music that we made. Those songs are still there. They have a life. One. Small. Life.