Heather S. Ingemar's Blog, page 9

The Bard’s View: Honor War

Now, we’re getting somewhere. ;-)

The first day of Honor War in the fair College of Lyonsmarche dawned bright and early, full of promise for the special day that it became. Honor War, like Baroness’s War, is one of my favorite early Spring events, although it being “early spring” in Idaho does mean we can expect some… interesting weather.

Thankfully, we didn’t see much out of the ordinary in the weather department, just classic “if you don’t like it, wait five minutes” cycles between rain, sun, overcast, and Deluge.

I spent the majority of my morning out on the warfield, assisting with judging for a heralding competition for the teams of the Battle Of Five tournament. I had the privilege to hear some creative word-smithing, but none like the team Legion, whom presented themselves with full drum accompaniment and an impromptu, introductory ballad sung by one of their fighters. Through the rest of that tournament, I watched as the drummers provided percussive accompaniment for every team on the field, and I observed the positive, attention-grabbing effect it had on all the spectators. Armed with my Bard’s Tokens, I knew what I must do.

At the end of the tourney, I marched (well… waddled. I hate to admit it but I’ve got a serious waddle at 4.5 months along with this pregnancy) myself over to them and politely requested to speak to all of them. I introduced myself, explaining my rank and how appreciative I was of their creativity in incorporating Bardic Arts onto the Warfield. They kind of gawked at me as I pulled out my Tokens and presented them as an expression of my favor for their efforts.

This, my friends, is part of what makes me so proud to wear the office of Bardic Champion.

I got the distinct impression that many of these players had never been recognized for anything before. One young woman even got a little misty-eyed as I pressed my token into her palm with a smile.  And here I was, just a humble musician myself, but bestowed with the power to say “Thank You” and have it really mean something.

It was a moment to file away in the mental scrapbook. :)

Later that evening, I also had the privilege of spending much of my time in the company of His Majesty, entertaining Himself and his retinue with various songs. I had a blast. Dodging the rain and cuddling up to the fire pit, I played until my fingers were sore and my voice tired. Oh, but such a wonderful feeling, and what fun company. :-) I couldn’t have asked for a better end to the day.

Sunday dawned overcast and wet, and I bundled up in my cloak to do something I’ve been having the push to do for the last few months.

As I have found myself more and more involved in my church, I’ve also felt more embarrassed that I miss so many Sundays. So, given my talents and given the venue, I learned some Medieval and Renaissance hymns. Armed with lyrics, I hustled out to the middle of the encampment, opened my book, and belted out some Latin praise.

My husband’s Don, who was awake and watching, said that as I sang the sun started to break through the clouds.

Mission accomplished. ;-)

Thus ends another event as Bardic Champion, and I do believe I’m beginning to get the hang of this gig… :-)

Tagged: bardic, medieval, performance, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism

Projects, Promotion, and Performance

Coming soon…er… than anticipated!! Yay!

This morning I spent some quality time with my recording equipment and got lead vocals laid for my last two tracks on the new, upcoming EP, “Storyteller,” as well as some tasty backup percussion. Things are moving along at quite a bit faster pace than I anticipated — which is a good thing, because life is about to get truly hectic with spring farm stuff — and I’m debating about whether or not to move up the release date again. Still a little early yet to make that call, I’ve got a bunch of mixing to do and this time I’d love to get my hands on a track mastering program or iPad app, especially since the recording sessions for each song have been spaced out across the board (which makes keeping your settings consistent trickier than usual). But I’m happy and pleased and excited to think that things may be ready quite a bit ahead of schedule. :-)

In other news…

I perform at the Grand Opening of the Blue Mountain Station in Dayton this Friday at noon.
I perform — in full garb!! — at the Whitman College Renaissance Faire on Saturday, at 10:30 and again at 1pm. I am quite stoked about this performance. I have a bunch of my own bardic material prepared as well as some period pieces and Celtic pieces both old and new.

Photo by Anna Davis

And, remember that post I made a while back about my brief foray into artistic modeling? Anna Davis‘s show featuring myself and other beautiful, badass, modern warrior-women is up this week in Gallery II of WSU’s Fine Arts building in Pullman, WA. The closing Artist’s Reception is this Friday, April 25th, from 6pm to 8pm-ish. I saw some teaser pics she posted on Facebook yesterday and they are quite cool, well worth the time to go check it out!

It’s gonna be an awesome week and it’s only just Tuesday. :-D

Tagged: Anna Davis, announcements, bardic, creativity, medieval, music, news, performance, photography, Rapier, Renaissance, visual art, warrior, Washington State University

The Life After

We laid Michael to rest today.

It just felt right; the sky was sunny and blue, the air was warm, a gentle breeze blew and you could hear the bees all a-working in the blossoming trees. A beautiful, beautiful day.

We’d talked about this event off and on since a few months after we brought him home, but it never felt right. J. said he envisioned a beautiful day, and today was that for us.

I thought it apropos that today was Easter Sunday, the day God conquered death and rose again.

I know Michael wasn’t in that little, blue bag of ashes. I know he hadn’t been here on this earth since J. watched him pass on the ICU table. But I really liked laying him down on Easter. I liked the homage to where he’s been since he left us: enjoying a beautiful life after death in Heaven.

But as we laid him in the ground and I looked at the beautiful Spring around me, I still cried. I miss him terribly, even now.

J. said a prayer when it was all I could do to catch my breath, and the final words were: “May we know each other when the time comes for us to meet again.”

Amen.

Pieces of myself I didn’t know had been in motion stilled, and I felt a tiny bit uplifted as we walked away. Life has been pretty damn rough lately, these last few months have been a struggle. But on this day of Rebirth, with the new Spring all around me, I felt calm.

This isn’t all there is to our lives.

There is so much Love, and it transcends death.

Tagged: Easter, grief, healing, love, memorial, neonatal death, sacrifice

The Bard’s View: Baroness’s War

It was a beautiful, sunshine-y day in the neighboring Barony of Vulkanfeldt (south-central Washington), and the company couldn’t have been better! Two words: epic weekend.

This was pretty much my first big event as Kingdom Champion, because it was the first time I had to fulfill court duties. Thanks to my chats with the other Champions and Mistress Isolde, I felt fairly prepared for what my duties would actually be: processing into court with Their Majesties, standing with them, and being prepared for entertaining at a moment’s notice. Yet in actual practice, I still felt a bit awkward. I expect it will take me a little time to adjust and grow into my place in Their court. I have to keep reminding myself that I have only been truly immersed in the SCA for about two-and-a-half years… and it takes a while to thoroughly pick up the nuances of court etiquette.

Good thing I have a year to get it all settled!

One thing I did learn this weekend (much to my chagrin), is that while I am thoroughly enjoying playing/singing period (more or less) materials, I am quite lacking in the ‘filk’ department… which is what the Inlands definitely appears to prefer in terms of bardic fire entertainment. A ‘filk’ can be modern song written in a period fashion, or period-esque wording and concepts fit to a modern melody. It can also be a song about the SCA experience and shared history.

I felt quite out of place as the evening wore on, for only having somber and/or serious materials at my disposal, none of which were an acceptable fit to a jovial crowd (no matter their kindness and appreciativeness for the craft). This is something I need to work on. One of the cardinal rules of being an entertainer is giving your audience what they need and/or want — and it appears my region wants filks… And lots of them.

I am woefully unprepared at this moment for such a thing. However, last month I was gifted with a copy of the “Elfhill Times” songbook (a favorite here in An Tir) to work through — like most things in my life at the moment, I just need to make myself sit down and DO it.

This year’s Baroness’s War was a lovely learning experience, and has whetted my appetite for the other events on my current SCA schedule. I will master the etiquette. I will learn a modest selection of songs for most types of crowds. I will learn just how to juggle my regalia and my instrument gracefully… so I at least look like I know what I’m doing… :)

This role is quite a bit more than anticipated, but I am up for the challenge. :)

Tagged: bardic, medieval, music, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism

12 Months and Counting

Every time I sit down to write an update to the pregnancy journey, most of what I find is frustration.

Frustration that I’ll have been pregnant for at least 18 months, just to walk out of the hospital with a living child in my arms, when every other woman in the world seems to be able to do it with nine.
Frustration with non-medical professionals giving advice and pressuring me to “make the right choices” this time.
Frustration with strangers’ rampant excitement, because it feels too much like counting your chickens before they’re hatched.

Sadly, that’s the tip of the iceberg. The arrival of the second trimester has been an exercise in faith and emotional management, to say the least. Though my belly grows by the day, it seems, and I’m starting to feel the baby’s kicks (hurray!), and each appointment brings a gently positive affirmation from my doctor, I find myself in an ever-watchful stasis: barely daring to hope and hesitating to fear the worst. Limbo.

I’ve even hesitated to touch and talk to the baby the same way I talked to Michael, so daring that action feels — it’s like claiming this child as mine, presumptuously, when I know that this child truly belongs to God until such a time as he or she is placed screaming in my arms to take care of. I have sneakily done it, and then found myself praying that I haven’t just counted a chicken too early, that I haven’t tipped the cosmic scales of life and death in a direction I’d rather not see.

Michael’s feet. During my pregnancy with him, he squirmed and kicked me OFTEN. I look forward to seeing how active his little brother or sister turns out to be. :-)

Grief and psychology experts like to say that a pregnancy after a loss is often “the longest nine months of a woman’s life.” I so wish that weren’t true, and yet the time cree-ee-ee-eeps by and I resort to distraction tactics to keep myself from worrying myself silly. As long as I can ‘float’ through my time between appointments by keeping my music and SCA schedules full, I do okay. I do my best to find joy where I can (in each moment I’m kicked or shoved by the little one, in each day I look at my pregnant belly in the mirror and see how fast it’s growing, in each shared smile or touch of my belly by my husband), but there always is an undercurrent of frustration.

So, here I am: 12 months pregnant and counting.

Tagged: coping, grief, healing, life, loss, Pregnancy, rainbows, trying again

Inner Strength

All my life I’ve considered myself a weak person. I was never athletic. I was never physically strong. I never really knew how to stand up for myself, and, as my family often told me, I was “too sensitive.” I felt too much, and was very susceptible to hurt and heartache. I had skills, but was almost always inept at the things I needed to have skill at. I was “heavy.” I was never conventionally “pretty.”

Following Michael’s death, everyone told me how ‘amazing’ I was, what an ‘inspiration’ I was, how ‘strong,’ how ‘courageous,’ and all I could see was the girl who was so weak, she was falling apart inside. All I could see was how I couldn’t keep my sh*t together, the myriad of spinning plates crashing down around me.

So when my friend, Anna, asked me to be a model for her art photography project — a project about the modern lady warrior in all her independence, strength, and confidence — I almost turned her down. “Why on Earth would she want me for this?” I wondered. “I’m the weakest link!”

Photo by Anna Davis

But I’m so glad I didn’t turn her down. Though I’ve never done any modeling before, and though the session was a bit awkward due to my inexperience and *ahem* lack of photogenic-ness, I donned the things that made me feel confident — my motorcycle jacket and my cross — anyway. I grabbed my rapier that J. modified for me and had some fun. I left her studio with crossed fingers that she had gotten some good shots. She sent me some copies of the photos this week and they are… amazing. Looking at them, I find myself moved great distances.

I don’t know how she did it, but somehow she managed to capture that inner strength I’ve never seen. Somehow, through the power of her lens, she focused in on that side of me I never knew existed. Looking at those photos, I see a woman of confidence. I see a woman of grace under fire. A woman who is capable and resilient and strong. A survivor. I see courage, and spirit, and perseverance against all odds. I see a warrior, a quiet champion standing against the every-day dragons that seek to destroy our lives.

It was there, all along. Hiding just underneath the surface. I’ll never look at myself the same again.

Because even when we can’t see our own strength, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Look a little harder, probe a little deeper.

We are, always, more than we think we are.

***

The show is scheduled for April 21st through 25th, with the artist’s reception from 6-8pm on Friday the 25th, at Washington State University in Pullman, WA.

To view Anna’s portfolio, please visit: thecreeativeanarchist.com

Photo by Anna Davis

Tagged: Anna Davis, confidence, creativity, modeling, photography, Rapier, strength, visual art, warrior, Washington State University

Bard-Hours, Indeed

Busy weekend, y’all, and it seems my first introduction to upholding my duties as the new Kingdom Bardic Champion.

(The former Champion, the lovely Vanessa Cardui, coined the term “bard-hours” earlier this year to reference the work both within and outside the SCA that relates to our art IN the SCA. I think it’s a handy distinction.)

Immediately after my short gig at the Farmer’s Market, I donned my garb and buzzed off to the SCA demo in Richland on medieval arts & sciences. It was awesome seeing not only the other displays by fellow SCAdians, but seeing just how many people from the general public were interested in what we had to offer. I played a bit, sang some, and answered a lot of questions about performing arts in the SCA (and consequently, medieval Europe). I left the site amped. It was great. :)

Today I gave more thought to how I want my term to proceed. I decided I would like my efforts more directed towards being a resource/mentor for the bardic arts. Certainly performing will be part of it (I can’t NOT bring an instrument with me, or play music for those who desire a tune, it’s in my DNA…), but I definitely want to be available to help those wanting to get involved.

So, I made myself a goal: to “teach” (I use the term loosely, as I prefer myself to be more of a mentor-type) a bardic-related class at as many of the non-crown events on my itinerary as I can.

So it begins.

Bring it on. :)

Tagged: bardic, medieval, music, performance, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism

April is National Organ Donor Awareness Month

Sometimes I catch myself wondering who my son was able to save.

On that 11th day of June, not only were J. and I wholly unprepared for having to say hello and goodbye to our son, but we had not entertained the possibility of donating his organs. Who does? What expectant couple sits down and considers that outcome? None of us. It was a big shock, finding ourselves on the phone with a tissue donation service. I know I, for one, didn’t think a child was capable of donating until they were much, much older. But when the donation center representative confirmed my questions that yes, our son, tiny as he was, could help others, I turned to J. and asked him what he thought.

There was barely any hesitation and we both said “why not?”

What followed was a series of phone call interviews and paperwork determining Michael’s eligibility. And when it was all said and done, we were told that his heart valves could save up to two other babies, and that his eyes would go to a research study aimed at finding a cure for infant and child blindness.

My son. My little boy doing such big things before he was ever an hour old. (Possibly) giving two children healthy heart valves and saving two sets of parents the heartache J. and I felt. (Possibly) letting some infant see their mom and dad for the first time.

I will probably never get to know these children, or their families. That entire week was such a blur I can’t remember now if I told the donation representative that it was okay to be contacted or not. I’m not even sure I knew the answer to that at the time.

But I smile and my heart swells and my throat chokes up with a tearful sort of pride thinking that my beautiful, perfect, little boy has left a legacy that has touched at least six lives (two children and two sets of parents) besides those of his daddy and I.

Maybe more.

April is National Donate Life Month, also known as National Organ Donor Awareness Month. If you’d like to know more, please visit:

http://50lives.org/
http://www.communitytissue.org/
http://donatelife.net/
http://www.nbcnews.com/health/kids-health/littlest-donors-neonatal-organ-donation-offers-hope-tragedy-n51436

Tagged: grief, healing, life, loss, love, neonatal death

Listening, and Where I am Now

The other night I found myself listening to the song I wrote for Michael’s funeral. I haven’t listened to it or played it since that day, and yet it has withstood the test of time. Not all songs do, I’ve written so many that sound good for a week, a month, or three months — but then start sounding like crap. Not this one. It still chokes me up, it still resonates deep within my heart, and the tender simplicity of the structure soars clear and clean over any imperfections of performance.

It is beautiful, and I think, one of the best songs I have ever written.

Why are the poignant moments — the tragedy, the heartache, the despair — the ones that come through with startling clarity? Is it because those are the moments that show us who we really are inside? Because that’s when we find out what we’re truly made of?

Because we know ourselves most intimately when we are climbing over that mountain?

It might be time to write another song. One that tells about the climb, and the triumph at having faced your darkest fear to watch the sun rise again. No, I’m not there yet, but each day brings me closer and little by little, I’m seeing the blackened sky turn to light.

Tagged: grief, healing, life, loss, love, music, neonatal death, Pregnancy, songwriting

Kingdom Bardic videos

Here’s some video footage of my run at An Tir’s Kingdom Bardic Championship. The videos of “Pastyme” and “Boar’s Head Carol” are from the first day (I missed getting “Three Ravens”!), and “Three Ravens” is from the finals on Sunday.

I apologize for the video quality, these were taken from my iPad, and I haven’t yet posted the ones my friend took with her camera and tripod setup. Those will be added to the playlist in the near future.

Enjoy.

Tagged: bardic, medieval, music, performance, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism