Our Handpan Journey

On the last eve of my visit to the Sahara Desert I wanted to play a thank you to the sands and the dunes. After a powerful 5 days it felt only appropriate to leave her with a song. I've walked those sands, slept under the fullest moon on those sands, shed tears in those sands, found great joy in those sands and have drawn inspiration, grace and wisdom from those sands. They will forever be a part of me and I am grateful. Chokran.

Stayed at the Hostel in the Forest in Brunswick, GA and decided to play for the forest. Well, the forest had other plans and decided to play for me. If we engage our environments with ease and grace, we can begin to interact with it on many new levels. We have to take the time to take a breath, sit and just listen. Blessed and grateful.

In 2009 I was offered the opportunity to do an impromptu recording session in Elizabeth Hall, at Stetson University, in DeLand, Florida with my Pantheon Steel Halo,  and my Panart Hang. The hall is over 100 years old and has a wonderful pipe organ. After seeing a nephews recital there, I was very keen on getting the opportunity to record there. There is a wonderful acoustic quality to the old hall that I just couldn't resist playing in.  This was the first chance to play here, and it was basically set up at the last minute. Next time I want to bring a couple more musicians and see what magic we can create.  I got 3-4 , maybe 5 good tracks that I am working on refining a bit. Perhaps I can cobble together the beginnings of a CD out of it all...... we'll see. For the time being, I am happy with the results. And besides, it was great fun.  Many thanks to Jim Campbell for taking time on a Sunday afternoon to help record. And thanks to Daniel McBride , for providing some nice backup percussion. You always try to keep my beat on track. ;) And Big thanks to Chip Wilson, the man with all the right connections. Thanks guys, you rock!

Autumn Equinox 2025 at Lake Woodruff NWR.  A fitting return to one of my favorite spots, locally. I haven't played here for about 4 to 5 years. I used to come out here regularly. This place was my solace. My Church. My place to recharge and reconnect and re-ground myself. I started playing out here back in 2006, when I got my first Handpan, which at that time was called a Hang. The term Handpan wasn't even brought into the collective consciousness yet.  Each visit to the NWR (National Wildlife Refuge) would be a unique experience. Despite being quite intimate with the lay of the ground whilst collecting my frequent hiker miles, and being more than familiar, the NWR always had something different to share with me.   Some days the NWR was calm, quiet, reflective. Light from deep orange and red sun bathed clouds, dancing on the ripples broken by stealthy fins just under the surface of the tanic brown water of the front pond and canals being the show of the day.   Other dayz there would be dozens of rabbits crossing the Catail and Sawgrass bordered grass path ahead of me. Usually after a rain, when no one has been out before me to scare them away. As I walk the couple hundred yards of this section, I see the paths cut through the tall grass on either side. Secret entrances to a hidden society of bunnies running through labyrinths of waves of living hay, alà "Watership Down".... Magical musings, mixing merrily 'midst my  mesmerized mind, making my magical march mystically more momentous.  Then there were daze that were absolute magic. I would chase the "Big Sky". That type of sunset that lights the sky up in a way that looks like a giant watercolor brush, flush with deep and rich reds, oranges, yellows, pinks, and purples, washed over the deep blue above with technicolor cotton candy that was so sweet, I was definitely hooked.   On a couple occasions I saw huge murmurations of Sparrows, like tornadoes in the distance. They got close, closer, then merging and engulfing me in a swirl of wings and chirps and tweets zipping all around me. I played my Hang as they swooped, flipped, zipped, and fed on the other swarm of mozzies that were already making their acquaintance with me. Dinner and a show! I was lucky and grateful.   There were daze the moon would chase the setting Sun. The sky their stage as they exchanged beams and shadows. The grandeur of light and dark lines intertwined in and extending that expanse of big sky that reached from horizon to horizon. I called those moments in time evasive and rare moments where East and West could touch and dance together, frozen in light and dark, but taking advantage of that moment like lovers who've not felt the presence or touch of one another for an eternity. So, this moment is their's. Horizons meeting and touching above me, for only a stolen moment.   Then the sky loses it's blush, and the moon bathes the newly dark sky with a soft white light as ancient giant fireflies twinkle with the subtleness of an intensity of a glow from millions of  years in the past, and millions of light years away. I am lucky to be the only audience in my cathedral that evening to bear witness to the magic of the universe, from my little grass path at the NWR.  This evening, the NWR welcomed me back with a beautiful Big Sky, all sorts of critters singing their good night songs, and even a visit from the Sparrows dancing and flying around me en masse. So close at times, I could feel them whoosh by my head as I played. The sky was painted with the Celestial watercolors and the NWR gave me a warm, and gentle, and full embrace.   A little Autumn Equinox magic? I like to think so. It's magic like that, that recharges me. And for a while now, I've forgotten how to recharge. I've forgotten magic, or whatever you might call that energy that gives you a spark, a motivation for your motivations and for what makes you true to your Self. Maybe this was just a pretty sunset, with some loud birds who are settling in because they have instincts, not magic. Maybe they were just doing what they do, and me, being the wide eyed tourist, can't help but think it's magic.   Meh, color me naive, then. I'll keep my magic and watercolor skies and a chorus of nature singing with me. We all need at least a little magic in our lives.  Touch Dirt. Breathe Sky. Drink River.  Magical Equinox blessing and blissings to you.