A Song in Everything

Catch Me If You Can

Music is like a great conversation in sound. We listen, respond, share ideas, challenge and inspire each other.

Use this form to expand on your ability to create simple melodies over a groove.

1. Sit or stand in a circle with a group no smaller than two people, but no larger than four or five.
2. One person begins the game by singing a simple melody. Remember to create your melody one tone at a time. Within your melody, make sure you establish a clear, simple-to-follow pulse.
3. While the first player or singer is creating their initial melody, the other participants listen intently.
4. Once the first person has established a simple groove and melody, they invite their neighbor to join them by either imitating what they hear or adding something new.
5. Once everyone has joined the song, the first participant adds something new to their melody. Turning to their neighbor, they invite them to follow their changes by imitating something new they hear, or adding something else new.
6. One at a time, each performer follows the changes as they move around the circle.
7. In this way, your song develops and changes in new and exciting ways.

This exercise can lead to exciting improvisations that grow and change in strange and inspiring ways. It allows your improvised song to unfold like a great conversation between friends, while simultaneously exercising our ability to synchronize with a beat and hear and create simple melodies.

The Infinity Loop

The most basic structure for extended group improvisation, this exercise challenges singers and players to take their simple melodies one step further.

Use this exercise to learn how to create extended improvised music.

1. Sit or stand in a circle with a group no smaller than two people, but no larger than four or five.
2. One person begins the game by singing a simple melody. Remember to create your melody one tone at a time. Within your melody, make sure you establish a clear, simple-to-follow pulse.
3. While the first player or singer is creating their initial melody, the other participants listen intently.
4. Once the first person has established a simple groove and melody, they invite their neighbor to join them by either imitating what they hear or adding something new.
5. Once everyone has joined the song, the group works together to find a way to bring the song to a meaningful end.

The challenge of the Infinity Loop lies in the way that it simultaneously asks participants to play the role of both soloist and support.

You can vary this exercise in countless ways. The most exciting variation happens when each member of the group takes a solo over the groove. A solo happens when you say something new, bold, or exciting. It can also happen when the group simply makes space for one individual to be heard.

Roving Duets

Music is language. Language is music. When we converse with each other through melody, we exercise our brain’s capacity to process the rhythm and melody of language.

Use this exercise to introduce yourself to the fundamentals of creating improvised music as part of a small group.

1. Sit or stand in a circle.
2. As a group, establish a simple pulse by stomping your feet, moving your bodies, or drumming on your thighs or chests.
3. Turning to a neighbor, one singer or player begins the game by singing or playing a simple, repeated melody.
4. As always, create your melody one tone at a time. Remember to synchronize your simple melody with the pulse.
5. Once the first person has established a simple melody over the pulse, their neighbor can either imitate that melody, or add something new. Together, the two sing or play their new song together.
6. When they feel ready, the next person in the circle joins the duet, by either imitating something they hear, or adding something new.
7. Once that third person has joined the duet, the first person drops out, and the duet moves to these two participants.
8. In this way, the duet roves around the circle.

This exercise provides everyone with practice at synchronizing with a beat, creating simple melodies, imitating other melodies, and adding new melodies to a piece of improvised music.

The Callback

A variation on a simple call and response, the Callback is intended to stretch you out of your comfort zone a little, while getting some wonderful positive reinforcement at the same time!

Use this exercise to practice creating and imitating simple melodies.

1. In a group, create a simple pulse by stomping your feet, moving your bodies, or drumming on your thighs or chests.
2. One singer begins the game by singing a simple melody. Create your melody one tone at a time. Sing your simple melody in time with the pulse.
3. Once a melody is sung, the group calls the melody back to the original singer.
4. Each singer calls three melodies, and the group responds to each one.

This is a nice way to introduce the individual melodies of everyone in the group. It gets us all singing together.

The Charm Bracelet

A simple melody is made out of sounds strung together like charms on a bracelet.

Use this exercise to create a melody out of one authentic sound.

1. Repeat the steps used to create one authentic sound.
2. Once you have created four authentic sounds, string them together by repeating them slowly and rhythmically.
3. As you feel a pulse emerge in your melody, move your body in time with the pulse.
4. Invite a friend to sing along with you. They can imitate what you are singing or add their own thing.

Once you string together a few authentic sounds of your own, and use them to create a simple, sung groove, you have created your very own melody.

This exercise also works well with your instrument of choice. Remember to breathe into each sound you make. Don’t rush it. Allow each melody to tell its own story.

One Authentic Sound

All music begins with one authentic sound.

If you can make one authentic sound, then you have begun to make music. And if you can make one sound, why not two, or three? And if you have made three sounds, why then you’ve begun to create a melody!

Use this exercise to get in touch with the melody inside you.

1. Stand with your feet firmly planted on the ground and close your eyes.
2. Breathe in, and then breathe out. Do this slowly four times. Become aware of the air moving through your body. This is where the sound comes from.
3. Now, breathe in again, and when you exhale, sigh audibly. Do this slowly four times.
4. Now, breathe in again, and sigh on your exhale, but as you sigh, allow the sound your making to settle on to one pitch. Hold that pitch, whatever it is until it fades naturally. Do this slowly four times.

This the beginning of melody.

Find your own sound simply by breathing in and out slowly. As you sigh and create a sound, try to put your emotions into it.  Create a few sounds and see if you can create a simple musical expression.

You can also try this exercise with your instrument of choice. Begin by breathing, and then breathe into each sound you make. One pitch at a time, find your own melody. Don’t rush it, allow each tone to be a world unto itself.

Serafine Learns to Sing

Chapter 1: Like Honey Boiling Inside

If she could explain it, she would, but Serafine was different. As a child, Serafine wanted to sing, but Sister and Mother always quieted her, fearing the legends of the great fire caused by the Ancestors, whose songs filled the world with noise and cut us off from each other. They believed silence calmed the frenzied Ancestor Spirits. But to Serafine, a world without song felt wrong. She longed to sing, and she carried her hunger everywhere: undefined and vague, clear. A deep, minor keening – pulsating out, hunting for the resonance, the hum, the echo that could pacify the ache. Like honey boiling inside her, she felt a song churning; readying itself to burst forth.

Chapter 2: Swept Away

And then, one beautiful, silent spring morning, the mountain valerian, tiny planets of color floating above the mountainside, bloomed early. Sweet in aroma; spreading boldly. Serafine – waiflike and distant, gazed at a snow-white petal caught by the breeze and swept away. She could not help but feel that life was about to change.

A surprise before her eyes; the sight of the flower, specter-like in the air. The smell crept up her nose – sweets on a holiday evening. Unsure and unsettled, Serafine ambled home concerned about a mystery, her anxiety mixed with insecurity. Sister was waiting when she arrived, her devastating message told in a whisper: Mother was gone.

It happened quickly. She had been working high on the mountainside tending her garden when she lost her foothold. The others saw only the white of her dress tumbling down the steep mountain. Mother landed in the river far below, and was swept away.

Chapter 3: The Golden Thread

Death was not a stranger. Long ago, Serafine sat in confused silence at the news of her stillborn sister, and was stunned when Grandmother died. But Mother’s death created a singular and enormous hole inside her – an ache and a longing nothing could soothe. It reached down into her stomach and twisted it. Her throat felt swollen and pain throbbed in her gut. That was when her first song was born.

It was a sharp, liberating sound that came from somewhere deep inside. Simple and pure, it was her truth in that moment. A repeated phrase that re-fused reality, that wrapped its knotty fingers around the feeling of loss: bottomless and sorrowful. It was hurt; it was shock, it was tenderness, longing, and love. It was a release. Serafine was reaching out for a connection that might never again be found in her world. She could no longer be silent.

That one, authentic sound was the first step in the journey Serafine knew she had to make. She wanted to sing the song that could complete her new world, and make sense out of the emptiness. Her grief song captured a feeling no other expression could. But it wasn’t enough. The desire for more sent her into the world, seeking the sound, searching for the song that was lost: a golden thread connecting the sound to its source within her and without.

Chapter 4: The Invocation of the Spirit Birds

And so, coming down from the mountains, where home had always been, Serafine crossed the river on the great metal bridge left by the ancestors, stopping to add her tears to the swollen current that took her Mother away. She picked her way across the Middle Grass Lands. Grasshoppers and katydids leaped in the path before her, guiding her through the barley and the switchgrass. The sun was turning her pink face to the horizon and the sky was purple and gray as Serafine entered the Forest Lands. She knew home was lost because the ground became fleshy and soft, giving in to her bare footfalls one at a time. Her footprints lasted a few moments behind her. In the strange black sunlight, the forest allowed the sight of puddles filling her footprints and then leveling off – the water seeping back into the rotted leaves and twigs – the waste of a thousand years.

Deep wrinkles were engraved in the bark of trees like Grandmother’s wizened face. Serafine thought about her now, in the secret emerald verdure of the forest when she sensed something new. She felt it in her neck before she heard it. A sudden, surprising flutter passed her ears, then swept across her collarbone and stroked her spine. Its sharp beak was mirror-black; reflecting the moonlight. Its wings quivered and slapped the air, causing Serafine’s ears to open, her body to vibrate. Then more came. Red, black, orange, yellow: it seemed like all the birds of the forest filling their wings with her air, united as one. From a darkened clearing they swooped and flew, low to the ground at first, and then swirling around her head, down her arms, lifting her hands, cupped in the seconds before they flew off. They came and went around her quick as a mistral on a winter’s night, circling and circling in orbit around Serafine.

Frozen and awed, she stood her ground when the Spirits of the Forest surrounded her, Hundreds of flying, fluttering, squawking, babbling, cackling, chattering birds. Serafine spread her arms wide, and the wonderful sound they created wrapped itself around her. She felt their power pulsating between her shoulder blades. This gathering of Spirit Birds was giving her a message – handing it off in the gloaming, invoking the song inside her. The one sound she sought was not the sound of one but of two, or three or four or many more.

Serafine became overwhelmed by the beauty and frightened by the power: hundreds of Spirit Birds creating one sound. After several moments suspended in the air around her, the birds swooped away into the darkness of the Forest, their sound trailing behind like the multi-faceted scarf of a bridal gown. Their vibrations remained, slowly falling all around Serafine as water seeped from the mountain outside her home which she feared she might never see again. When she could finally move her arms, they instinctively wrapped around her shoulders. Serafine fell onto the forest floor and cried. Her crying was deep, long, and wide. It reached across the Grass Lands, up the mountain, and all the way back to home.

Chapter 5: Birdy Girl

Serafine slept on the Forest floor. Moss was her pillow and the duff of generations was her bed. She slept a long time, dreaming of mother working in her kitchen in the mountains high above. She worked at the fire she tended night after night, the source of warmth in the home. Serafine loved to hear Mother working the fire, creating it, and tending it. And then, when she thought she was alone, Mother would sing to herself. Her singing was a fragile ribbon of sound weaving through the house to Serafine’s bed. Hearing it, Serafine knew she was home and Mother was there. Mother would always be there.

The sound tickled her ears in the dream, and then it tickled her nose. Something wet brushed her face. Not quite awake yet, Serafine heard more soft cries – high-pitched and soft, just like mother’s singing. From her bed of twigs and leaves in the moonlight, Serafine perceived something else. It was a rattle, a vibrating pulse. A cat was sitting on her chest. She purred softly. Just as Serafine could see the moonlight reflected in her whiskers, she jumped, scaring the creature into the woods. She couldn’t quite make out the shapes of the trees in the darkness, and as her eyes were adjusting, she heard a faint chirp.

Chirrup? Chirrup?

It sounded like a question from beyond the trees. For a moment Serafine thought she was still with the Spirit Birds, and that memory rushed back, bringing her to her feet. But then she heard it again.

Chirrup? Chirrup?

It was a cat, wasn’t it? Serafine thought to herself, and again she heard the question.

Chirrup? Chirrup?

If she could speak the language of animals, Serafine thought that surely this cat was calling her further into the forest. Charmed by the sound, Serafine picked her way into the pines. The little cat waited in a clearing, squinting her eyes; her furry white crown reflecting the moonlight, and as Serafine drew closer, she could hear the purring and another chirping question.

Chirrup? Chirrup?

What kind of cat chirps like a bird? She’s like a little birdy girl! Serafine thought to herself.Standing on her toes and slowly stretching her back, Birdy Girl turned and trotted confidently into the woods, chirping as she went, looking back to see Serafine following. Once, she circled back to wrap her tail around her ankles, making sure Serafine was still with her. And so, on they went.  Serafine felt the night become dark and darker.

And yet morning must surely be coming.

The path seemed to be going down and down. For some reason, Serafine trusted her new friend. Birdy Girl was leading her somewhere very special.

Chapter 6: Old Tree Woman

The moon drooped close to the horizon and peered through the trees like a child spying on her parents at midnight. Her light turned the ancient bristlecone pines white. Their long needles were alabaster fingers, and they crossed themselves like a gate before Serafine. Birdy Girl stopped.

Chirrup? Chirrup?

Her question felt like a command.

Wait here?

With a sigh, Serafine slumped down. Birdy Girl curled up, facing away, but listening with turned ears. Here among the ancient pines wild red basil grew untamed. It was the smell of licorice root on autumn nights. Serafine breathed deep, remembering fights with Sister over the last piece from Mother’s bag. Mother, ever the trickster, let them work it out, but still found another morsel hidden in her dresses to give Sister, who always let Serafine win. She was lost in her reverie, and so she didn’t feel the ground move beneath her. The sound of the trees above made her jump and stand, facing the ghostly white fingers of pine needle and wood crossed before her.

Slowly, they uncrossed – looking like an old woman opening her hands to reveal a gift. It was Old Tree Woman. She was reclining. Her legs were crossed, and her knees pointed at the sky. Her hands were outstretched, dangling comfortably from her long, branch-like arms extending from her sides. Birdy Girl chirped happily.

Chirrup! Chirrup!

She was made of wood, but she stirred fluidly. She wore woven dresses made of feather reed grass and downy brome. Her skin was a deep brown – almost black. Deep, deep lines carved the bark that was her skin. Near the top of her Serafine could sense eyes. She couldn’t quite see them, but she could feel their kind weight upon her. Atop her head sat a massive crest made of knotty twigs and thick pine needles woven into a complex pattern. Their spires rose to the sky. Birdy Girl chirped again. Her tail wrapped around Serafine’s ankles. With deep resounding tones, the Old Tree Woman spoke.

You are very far from home, love.

Her voice was kind and low. It vibrated deep, and Serafine was awed to hear this sound that reverberated with spirit inside her. The great Tree slowly extended one ancient hand and Serafine cautiously placed hers inside it. The fingers of the ancient tree closed gently.

Why have you left home?

Birdy Girl chirped again, and the old woman gazed smilingly down at her. She lifted the weight of her beautifully crowned head, looked at Serafine, and spoke again.

Your friend is clever, isn’t she?

Serafine stared quizzically, but then dropped her eyes and looked down.

Please don’t be afraid. This tiny cat led you here. She knows I can help. I see pain in your eyes and loss in your shoulders. My dear child, what have you lost?

When Serafine answered, it was almost painful.

My mother.

Then, like a stammering question she added,

A song.

Birdy Girl chirped again.

Chirrup? Chirrup?

Old Tree Woman remained silent for a long time. The moon dropped completely below the horizon. In the miles behind them, Serafine could still hear the songs of the Spirit Birds clamoring for the dawn. Here, with the moon now gone, the night reached its final, darkest moment. The silence embraced the trio facing each other in the blackness.

I am so, so sorry.

Serafine only hung her head. Old Tree Woman continued,

I have been watching you make your way here. You came a long way –down from the Mountains, through the Forest Lands. You had nearly lost the path when the Spirit Birds found you. But you needn’t have come this far just to find a song.

Serafine looked up and explained herself very softly.

When my mother died, I sang a song. I ran away from home because I loved the song I made. I want to find it again. I want to sing again.

Old Tree Woman smiled. Her face cracked open; her radiance beamed.

And so here you are …

Serafine nodded.

Your song can be found within you and without.You will discover it with the Wolves,

and you will feel it with the Insects. But you will know it when you find the Whale.

Serafine thought she knew the Wolves. She feared to meet them now. She also understood what Old Tree Woman meant by the Insects. But that last word confused her. What was the Whale? Old Tree Woman sensed Serafine’s question.

To find the Whale, you must make your way to the Sea, my love. Do you know the Sea?

Birdy Girl answered for her. Serafine just laughed in embarrassment.

I cannot tell you what the Sea is, love, but you will know it when you find it. The Whale is there.

At these words, the sky through the pines turned from black to grey. The Spirit Birds made such noise! Again, Old Tree Woman smiled.

I think it is time for you to go, my love.

At this, the ancient pine tree spirit closed her gentle eyes. As she tilted her great crowned head, Serafine could hear creaking. Her movements slowed, her arms extended, her fingers lay open, and her legs slowly crossed again. Then she stopped. Serafine admired the tangle of knotty pine reclining before her in the indigo morning. Just then, the sun shot one finger of light above the horizon. She had grabbed hold from the other side of the world.

Chirrup? Chirrup?

Serafine gazed at her new friend.

We better get moving, Birdy Girl. The day will be warm soon, and I am getting very hungry!

Chapter 7: The Song of the Wolf

The pines that were home to Old Tree Woman marked the edge of the Forest Lands. Now the ground had become rock and sand, and Serafine and Birdy Girl climbed carefully down a gentle slope that led them, eventually, to the Flat Lands. Again, the sky turned from grey to pink, and the great rocks of the Flat Lands stood proudly in the light of dawn. Serafine let her passing fingertips stroke each craggy megalith. They were as ancient as Old Tree Woman herself, Serafine imagined. Coming round one large rock, the pair glimpsed the whole expanse of the Flat Lands. They were shaped like a bowl – opening wide and wreathed by hills and stones as large as any she had ever seen before.

They made their way across the bowl, and the shadows grew long behind them. Serafine watched with wonder as the sun rose above the panoramic edge. And then her stomach dropped. Something leaped over the edge and stood watching her. It was a wolf. It stood for a moment, and then tilted her head back and howled. Serafine could see her breath silhouetted against the morning sky. The song of the wolf was beautiful and terrifying. It began as one long tone. It rose, and then fell quickly. It split the morning sky with its beauty and terror and power.

Then Serafine heard the response from the pack, still out of sight. They matched her tone. They heard her, and knew her. Birdy Girl didn’t see the wolf at first, and so she chirped questioningly when Serafine stopped. But she ran behind a rock at the howling. Serafine would have joined her, but she was too afraid to run. She couldn’t even move, and when she turned herself to look back at the horizon, there were at least ten more wolves standing there.

Serafine pivoted quietly around and then saw their quarry: a huge creature standing many yards behind them. She had been in such a state of wonder at the sunrise, that somehow they crossed paths without noticing it. With her feet planted, Serafine remained twisted, looking behind. She squinted her eyes to make out the creature’s shape. It was a massive elk. When she turned back around and peered up at the pack of wolves, Serafine knew they weren’t staring at her. She simply lay in their path. They wanted the elk. Serafine’s fear grew at this realization. At the same time, Serafine felt something else, something new and strange. It was a hunger, but more. She felt tense, something inside her was about to snap.

Just then, another wolf howled. As it did so, the others called back to her.  They were imitating her call, responding to it. So that is what Serafine decided to do. She howled. She tilted her head back and let the sound out. It came from somewhere deep within, and it held everything inside her. She howled to the sky. Everything came out of her in that howl: the pain of losing mother, the grief of leaving home, the fear and wonder of the Invocation of the Spirit Birds, the love of Old Tree Woman, the guilt of leaving Sister, the closeness she felt for Birdy Girl. She felt hunger for food, yes, but there was a deeper hunger for something else as well. Serafine wanted to join the wolves. As they descended down the edges, along the bowl of the Flat Lands, Serafine howled again. It was a scream of terrible power and fear and love.

They came closer every second, but Serafine just stood there, but her toes curled into the sandy ground. She was instinctively looking for purchase, preparing to run, waiting for the right moment. As the wolves passed, Serafine, as if pulled by an unseen force, coursed across the Flat Lands with them. She howled and ran, and the wind blowing passed her took away her pain. Her howling freed her. She was part of the pack. She called to them, and they responded to her. First, she made a sound – a great, powerful howl that was clear and pure. They responded as if they knew who she was. Serafine had become a wolf. She sang howling melodies that unchained hers spirit. The pack supported her.

When they reached the elk, the wolves began their gruesome task, tearing at the flesh of the great creature. But Serafine stopped, surprised by her own actions. The atmosphere around them became filled with the sweet, hot air of blood.  Of course she couldn’t do this! Once again, she screamed a limpid howl, this time in confusion and frustration. But then something else very strange happened. The wolves barked timidly back at her and stopped eating. Very briefly, they moved away from the elk. They kept their heads down and barked back at Serafine, until she drew close, not knowing what she was doing. Her hunger, both for the elk and for the pack, had taken over completely by this point.

She moved in towards the fallen creature and deftly grabbed a great piece of meat that the wolves had left for her. She took it and ran. As the distance between Serafine and the pack grew the wolves closed back around their prey. Save her frenzied breathing, Serafine was quiet as she made her way back to the circle of rocks where Birdy Girl was hiding. The little cat was waiting for her when she got there. She was afraid of her partner now, who had howled with the wolves, but Serafine held out her hands and breathed softly. Birdy Girl came carefully, craning her neck to sniff her fingers. She decided it was ok, and so she sat on her haunches and squinted her eyes, but her ears remained piqued towards the wolves in the distance.

         Serafine remembered how mother had taught her to build a fire, and so it wasn’t long before she had created a warm blaze and cooked her prize with Birdy Girl close beside her. The two of them ate in silence, and Serafine pondered. Something inside took over in that moment of awakening, of becoming a Wolf. It felt just like her grief song – the painful, keening pulsation that burst when mother died. She thought of her endless need to find that song again. This was what brought her into the wilderness after all. Then she remembered the words of Old Tree Woman.

“Your song can be found within you and without. You will discover it with the wolves.”

Yes. Within her and without.

         Without her as the wolf: proud, powerful, part of a pack. Within her was the howl: longing to be heard, a melody of freedom and joy. The sound she made while she ran with the wolves was part of the song she sought. Here was freedom. It was letting go. It was opening up and out to the world. Serafine had learned to sing the Song of the Wolf. And even though the pack had run off over the other edge of the bowl, Serafine knew that part of her would remain in that pack forever.

Chapter 8: Into the Cloud Forest

Slowly, Serafine and Birdy Girl spent the rest of the day climbing out of the great bowl surrounding the Flat Lands. They scrabbled over boulders that were taller than Serafine’s mountain home, and balanced uncertainly on loose stones that led them higher and higher to the edge of the bowl. The air became thick and moist, and the clouds were gathering when they touched the dizzying edge, and Serafine caught her first glance of the Cloud Forest spread out below them. Looking down at the greens and blues, Serafine was reminded of the stories Mother loved to tell. Serafine and her sister would stay up until late in the night, listening in awe and fear to the stories of the great Ancestor Dragon whose fire split the world in two. Balanced on the ridge, looking down, Serafine felt as if they straddled the Dragon’s back. Her wings stretched out below them: the canopy of the Cloud Forest. Her breath of fire sent fingers of smoke crawling up the steep hillsides. Serafine could hear the buzzing world below. Constellations of insects awaited them in the jungle.

And so the two friends began their journey into the Cloud Forest. Mud and grit found its way underneath Serafine’s toenails as her bare feet stepped delicately along the steep pathway that led into the Cloud Forest. Birdy Girl chirped uncertainly, her tail stretched straight out behind her, its tip quietly flicking from side to side. Moisture filled the misty air, the gray sky loomed heavy, and sweat was dripping down Serafine’s back. The air was also filled with something else. Masses and millions of buzzing, zig-zagging, eating, flying, biting, nagging creepy-crawlies. There were great moths and butterflies: Swallowtails, Longwings, Banded Peacocks, Green Pages. Spirals of Leaf-Cutter Ants decorated the trees. Birdy Girl chased Hercules Beetles along their path. Everywhere they turned, the travelers found life seething, pulsating and breathing, dancing and unfolding.

Serafine felt astonished to see great bunches of fruit hanging, and remembered, with mixed feelings, the transformation that fed her in the Flat Lands. Here, she could smell the sensuous Cami Cami fruit, tart and fresh and luxurious. She ate freely, and filled her belly while traversing the floor of the Cloud Forest, sharing her bounty with Birdy Girl, who would only eat morsels, favoring the chase rather than the feast.

Although the sun was hidden by the great canopy above, still Serafine could sense the evening drawing near. She became tired and listless. She had climbed out of the Flat Lands, made her way down the Dragon’s back, and walked for miles through the Cloud Forest. It was time to sleep. She was ready to dream of Home, of Mother, of the Mountains, of the Spirit Birds of Old Tree Woman, of the Song of the Wolf, of one authentic sound followed by another, still singing inside her. Drowsiness soon overtook her, and she made a bed for herself. Tonight, banana leaves were her pillows. Birdy Girl circled round and round, kneaded the mossy bed, cleaned herself, and squinted slowly. Soon, they were both asleep.

Chapter 9: The Song of the Insects

But sleep didn’t last long. Serafine woke hazily. The only light came from a mossy phosphorescence, like a faint green hue she could feel but not see. But she could hear a hullabaloo! It took a few moments to register what she was experiencing. It was a sound unlike any she had ever heard before. All the insects of the forest, it seemed, were awake. Their pulsating calls surrounded her, like a vibrating, scratching, squeaking orchestra warming up

in rhythmic syncopation.

Above her head, she heard a call. It lasted a second, and then, from beyond came a response. Back and forth, the insects called to each other, sang together in unison, made space for each other, conversed or argued, Serafine couldn’t really tell. Pushing her hands into the soil, Serafine sat up, quickly waking Birdy Girl. The darkness was so complete that Serafine kept her eyes closed, and only listened. Her ears opened wide, threading the needle of sound into her spirit, and slowly making it move. She listened so closely to this new world of sound that resonated inside her. Then she did something she never thought she would do. She danced! Her arms were outstretched and her body synchronized to the endless calls coming from insects all around. They pulsed, beat the air, throbbed, and grooved. Their rhythms syncopated with her heartbeat in the night. She swayed her head back and forth, opened her mouth in wonder, breathed deeply and slowly, bent her knees, pivoted her feet, spun around and around, swaying her hips in time to the Song of the Insects. She had found the pulse inside the din. It supported her body, that moved now, freely, without thought or conscious effort. The rhythms of the Insect Song filled her entire body, and she responded to the invitation in her own way – swaying and dancing, while Birdy Girl circled at her feet. All throughout the night, Serafine danced, twirled, boogied, until, finally, the Song of the Insects began to slow down, and the rhythm gave way to rays of sunlight peeking through the canopy above. That night, Serafine had learned rhythm: The Song of the Insects. The pulse would remain inside her forever.

Chapter 10: The Sand Dunes

         And now, when she walked, Serafine strode in time to the beat inside: a swaying dance in triple time. Her feet felt lighter. Her face became a beam. In the morning light, Serafine and Birdy Girl traveled out of the Cloud Forest. The ground again grew dry and parched. There were fewer trees now, and the loving sun rose and burned from above. The mud became soil that sifted loosely between Serafine’s toes. Birdy Girl’s padded feet sank into sand that slowed her down, and made her chirp with uncertainty. Serafine missed the long-winged Dragonflies that permeated the Cloud Forest. They gamboled in the sky. All that remained now were the flies, green and effervescent in the air like acidic clouds that bit and stung above the swaying Marram Grass.

The air was thick and salty now, and Serafine’s hair was knotted and twisted with moisture, like bed sheets on humid summer mornings. Soon, the sandy path rose and fell in short hills. Serafine had to dig her feet into the Dunes just to keep moving forward. Without knowing it, Serafine and Birdy Girl were rising on the path. The land was climbing. They were making one final push to the Sea.

The Sea: vast waves of sound constantly pushing and pulling and tearing and rending, creating and giving. Serafine could smell it before she saw it. When she was a child, on special days, Mother would tell the girls to wait outside the kitchen, while the smells of her cooking

washed over them. What surprise was she preparing? This is what Serafine thought of now, as the aroma of the sea embraced her, stuck to her flesh, and embedded itself inside her. What surprise was she preparing?

Then she heard the sound. It was the relentless, mighty drone of the Sea. Finally, the pair reached the top of the last Dune before the beach spread out before them. To Serafine, the beach seemed like a windowsill, a shelf of land perched just before the mystical Sea. Serafine tried to speak to Birdy Girl, but the Sea swallowed her voice. Serafine had never felt such power before. Even the fear of the wolves could not compare with the sense of awe she experienced in this moment. It was then that Serafine remembered the words of Old Tree Woman:

“I cannot tell you what the Sea is, love, but you will know it when you find it. The whale is there.”

She had found it, she knew. But where was the Whale? In there? In the water,

that fell off the edge of the world so far away? It was then that Serafine felt the first pull of the Sea. She knew she must be in it. She longed to be surrounded and immersed in its wonder. And so she left Birdy Girl seated on the hard black sand near the Sand Dunes, and walked, so cavalier, into the Sea.

Chapter 11: The Song of the Whale

         Serafine’s feet disappeared into the sand. Jade crystals grasped at her ankles. The sound was so immense that it felt like silence. It swallowed the world and filled her ears. It was a blanket of sound. And then the first wave hit Serafine with a punch to her belly. Foam splashed into her face, and she laughed in fright and surprise. Her dress became heavy and her waist disappeared beneath the surface as the Sea began to pull again. It wanted her, and she wanted it. Serafine closed her eyes, slowly spread her hands across the surface, breathed deep – the salt and brine of millennia – and dropped beneath the Sea.

Birdy Girl had been watching the flies, so she didn’t see Serafine disappear. She chirped in fear when she looked at the Sea and couldn’t find her. She pushed off the sand with her back legs and walked nervously to the Sea, following the girl she loved. But then the Sea stretched out with her terrible hand and took Birdy Girl with one swipe. A wave crashed and pulled her into the deep tumultuous Sea.

Soon, from beneath the waves, Serafine burst with a gasp. She was swimming! The wonder and awe of it made her laugh. Her feet dangled freely below her. She never saw Birdy Girl disappear beneath the waves. Life was now beyond her control. She had unwittingly given up everything. Nothing connected her to the land anymore. She was free. And then, the Sea decided to take her too.

With every passing moment, the beach seemed farther and farther away. It was then that Serafine remembered Birdy Girl. She called out to her. She spun around in the water, and her legs began to kick, as if by instinct, wildly beneath her. She dangled above the abyss.

With one hand, she pushed the hair from her face. Spinning and spinning, Serafine could remember where she had left the tiny cat whom she loved so much, and who had led her to this place of mysticism and power. She called and called and called. As her vision of the beach rocked back and forth before her, Serafine realized what had happened.

Just then, Serafine heard the faintest cry over the din of the waves. She kicked madly at the currents below her and pulled as hard as she could, following the sound that faded in and out of her hearing. As she moved across the waves, Serafine suddenly thought she saw the furry white crown of Birdy Girl’s head above the water. She was too far away, and Serafine realized what had happened. She cursed herself for leaving the tiny cat alone on the beach! She called out to her again and again. She tried to swim as quickly as she could, but she was just a child and the Sea was ancient and powerful.

Just then, a swell rose above her and Serafine saw Birdy Girl. Her body floated in the wall of water that was rising above her. Serafine screamed in pain for Birdy Girl and dove down into the wave as it moved over her. In the green darkness, Serafine could only hear the terrible Sea roiling all around her. When she through her lungs would burst, Serafine pulled herself up to the surface. She had lost Birdy Girl forever. She felt anger and sadness and guilt, and she cried so loud, that her wails flew above the waves, and were caught up in the salty air. Her desolation made her weak. She stopped kicking her legs, dropped her arms, and closed her eyes. She never wanted to open them again. Serafine drifted further and further away.

The Sea filled her ears, and all she heard was the drone of the waves all around her. This was surely the end. She dropped slowly down into the Sea, and stopped moving entirely. A blackness so complete entombed Serafine from within and without. She floated down into the void. Serafine and the Sea swallowed each other.

And now, she was walking up the mountain path that led home. Mother was standing in the doorway, her hands outstretched across the doorframe. Serafine’s vision closed in on the sight of Mother’s hands, as she ran them along the frame. They made a long, almost whistling tone. It began soft, like a metallic bell being rubbed with wet hands. It rose in intensity and then fell away. Serafine tried to see Mother, but her sight was swiftly fading.

The sound of Mother’s hands in the door became louder and louder. Each tone echoed in the blackness that held Serafine so completely. Suddenly, Serafine’s eyes were jolted open. Something was singing below her. The sound it made was massive, hollow, resonant, and kind. Suddenly, the tips of her feet touched the back of some vast creature that was rising beneath her from the deep. As it rose, it pushed Serafine up towards the light. It sang as it moved.

         As she was rising, Serafine could make out other sounds coming from all around. She turned her head slowly in the thickness of the deep, and could barely perceive three other mammoth shapes nearby. Their sounds vibrated deep within her. Above the drone of the waves and the pulsating of the chasm of ocean in which Serafine had become immersed in desperation, a pod of whales had begun to sing. With a loud gasp of air Serafine breached the surface of the Sea. A wave crested above her. Her tears multiplied the ocean. Serafine cried out in grief for Mother, for Sister, for Birdy Girl, for home.

Just then, a massive entity broke through the water. It swayed above her, then came crashing down, and the water made lacy patterns in the air. Serafine realized what she was seeing. It appeared to be a colossal fish: The Whale.

Three of them arrived in the blackness of her sea of grief and despair and sang to her. They surrounded her. Their song pierced her body, and moved her deeply. They sang in harmony with the Sea’s droning power, with her feelings of emptiness and loss. And then, Serafine sang too. Her song floated just beyond. It was a long mingling tone. In the air above the sea, the two songs coupled, danced, caressed, and embraced. They were different, Serafine and the Whale, but their songs completed each other. This was harmony.

She could not fully understand why, but it brought Serafine a sense of peace. She knew she was doing all that she could to find her song and make her world right again. She knew that she could do nothing to bring Birdy Girl back, or to bring Mother home, but she could sing. As she sang, the whales guided her back slowly and calmly to the shore. Serafine lay in a tide pool for hours. She cried and sang throughout the night. The whales sang with her.

Chapter 12: Serafine Learns to Sing

A new day dawned, and Serafine’s song was complete. The whales were gone, and now, Serafine stood on the beach, watching the amber sun peek above the horizon. Her light warmed Serafine’s face, reminding her of the Invocation of the Spirit Birds so many nights ago. They taught her that she could not find her song alone. She needed help:

Birdy Girl

Old Tree Woman

The Wolves

The Insects

The Whales

The Path

The Mountains

The Forest

The Flat Lands

The Cloud Forest

The Sand Dunes

The Sea

Melody

Rhythm

Harmony

She thought of the family shad he found on her journey, and she was reminded of the wolves, whose song became a melody. She remembered howling freely, and then the wolves answered her. Together they created their own music. This was part of Serafine’s song.

Then, she caught the rhythm of the waves crashing at her feet. She remembered the Insects in the night. They called to each other. They made space for each other. In rhythmic syncopation, they listened. Their listening made a groove, and Serafine danced with abandon and joy. This was part of Serafine’s song.

She spread her arms, remembering the dance. It was then that she remembered swimming, and her brash decision to leave Birdy Girl behind and enter the Sea. She let go of everything and allowed herself to be swallowed by the Sea. But then she was surrounded and held by the Song of the Whale. They created a symphony together. They sang in harmony about grief and love and loss, each supporting each in their way. This was part of Serafine’s song.

The melody of the Wolf, the rhythm of the Insects, and the harmony of the Whale.

The sun rose high, and Serafine began to sing, but this was a new song, one she never heard before. It began with one true tone, like the Song of the Wolf. And then she repeated it. She repeated it again and again, until it became a groove, like the Song of the Insects. Soon, her melody took on a new form. It changed and developed. Multiple tones formed new melodies that completed each other, like the Song of the Whale.

She danced and sang all morning, and was reborn in that song. She created something truly new and authentic. She found the sound that healed her pain, that empowered her to create something that reflected all her own differences, all her own experiences, all her love, and loss.

Serafine learned to sing.

Chapter 13: The Song Says Enough

It was many days before Serafine finally climbed the rocky path that led back to her mountain home. Sister was waiting in the door; her arms open wide. The two held each other for a long time, and then Sister pulled back and looked at Serafine, her eyebrows lifted in question, her mouth turned into a curious smile.

With her hands resting on Sister’s shoulder, Serafine began to move slowly, guiding their feet. Quietly, on the mountaintop perched above the world that had taught Serafine to sing, the sisters danced. Their hands rested on each other’s shoulders, their heads touched – rocking back and forth in the groove. And then Serafine looked into Sister’s eyes and sang her song. She nodded her head in encouragement and Sister sang back; unsure at first, but in time with the dance their bodies made together. As their melodies emerged and harmonized, the sisters created

a new song, and the music filled the yard outside their home, where everyone could hear.

In time, Serafine would tell Sister of her journey. Of the wondrous Invocation of the Spirit Birds, of magical Old Tree Woman, of the terrifying Wolves, of the chattering Insects, of the mystical Whales, of beautiful, tiny Birdy Girl, who led her along the way, and asked her so many chirping questions. But for now, all she could do was sing. And the song said enough.

Here’s another form originally designed to blur the walls between audience and performer.

Here’s how it works:

Form two ensembles, one small – a trio or quartet, but no larger, and the other fairly large – eight or nine players. The large group needs to be big because they are going to form a circle around the other, smaller ensemble. Both groups are sitting in two concentric circles with their instruments. The inside circle begins to play an improvisation using any form with which they are comfortable. In the beginning, the outer circle just listens. Then, as the music in the inner circle develops, the members of the outer circle can begin to play. They are to respond to what they hear in the inner circle. They can do this in a few specific ways. They may repeat or imitate something they hear in the inner circle, they may add something new to what they hear in the inner circle, or they can harmonize with what they hear in the inner circle.

            The inner circle represents the performer, and the outer circle represents the listener. In this form, the listener may interject into the performance at any time. If they hear something they like, they can call it back by repeating it or imitating it. They might want to accentuate the music by harmonizing with it, or if they don’t like what they are hearing for whatever reason, they can add to the music and influence it to change.

            This is a wild exercise for both groups – the inner and the outer circles. For the players in the inner circle, it can be very jarring to hear more music coming from all around, especially from behind. And then to know that you can respond in some way to that other music that is happening outside the ensemble, can be both freeing and stressful, sometimes simultaneously! For the members of the outer circle, they have become empowered listeners, engaging deeply and intimately with the music they are hearing. They also have a tremendous responsibility, which is to influence the playing in the inner circle. Their listening can and will direct the direction of this improvisation.

This exercise aims to help players explore counterpoint. Counterpoint refers to two melodies played simultaneously that create a third, harmonized melody. There are four ways two voices can move around each other in counterpoint. Oblique Motion occurs when one melodic voice remains constant, while the second voice moves up or down in pitch around it. In Oblique Motion, one melodic voice is playing something tantamount to a drone, or simple repeating pattern, while the second voice dances around it, allowing its own melody to move up and down freely. Contrary Motion refers to two melodic voices that move in opposite directions. One may move up in pitch while the other moves down. In Similar Motion, both melodic voices move up or down at the same time and in the same direction, however they do so by different increments. One voice might leap up an octave, while the second voice might take steps up that octave note. Finally, in Parallel Motion, the two voices are moving in exactly the same ways, but a fixed distance apart. For example, one might be at the root of a key, while the other may begin the same melodic line at the fifth degree.

Here’s how it works:

Begin by creating a series of dancing pairs around the space. Next, play some loud dance music and try out each of the types of motion. What would Oblique Motion look like if it were a dance? One player would be standing pretty still, while the other danced around them. Two dancers showcasing Contrary Motion might both be doing separate dances simultaneously. Dancers performing Similar Motion would be imitating each other, but with slight differences between each dancer. Finally, dancers trying out Parallel Motion would be mirroring each other almost exactly. This can be very silly and fun. That’s ok! We don’t get many chances to just dance. But, remember that the point here is to witness embodied examples of the four types of musical motion. Once participants have gotten the concept of the four types of motion in their bodies, try to put it into music. Each dancing pair will now try to recreate their dance as a piece of music. For example, the Oblique pair may have one player play a drone, while the other solos around it. Each pair may want to do this standing up, just as they did when dancing. They may even want to try to dance while playing!

Over the years, I have used this exercise as a way to open up young musicians to creating harmonies and melodies with their singing voices. Even though this is a form that can be played using melody instruments, it really works best when performed with voices. Therefore, since singing is something that can create a good deal of anxiety in young performers, be sure to create a safe, welcoming space, and make sure that the players feel comfortable with exploring new approaches and techniques with each other. I use this exercise when I am working with a group that has a friendly dynamic, or that I know very well, and with whom I can ensure a safe, non-judgmental, welcoming environment. If you can ensure that, this exercise can be very powerful. At times, it has been almost transcendent.

Here’s how it works:

Invite participants to stand in a circle. Ask them to stand as close as they can to each other comfortably. I like to turn down the lights for this exercise, as this can sometimes make it easier for young singers to explore their singing voices. Once you have come to silence, ask the group to close their eyes and identify in their minds the emotion they are feeling at that moment. Perhaps they are tired, or “weirded out,” or maybe they are hungry or stressed about a test. Whatever it is, ask them to name it quietly to themselves. Then, take three deep breaths. On each exhale, ask the group to put the emotion they have identified into their breathing. From here, complete the “One Authentic Sound” exercise from Unit One.

Once we have completed this portion of the exercise, ask them to do it one more time, but this time, I invite them to hold the pitch they land on as long as they can. When they run out of breath, they are to breath in, and do it again, thus collectively creating a drone with their voices. It is important to note that the group will most likely begin to sing in unison once they create a drone. That is ok. Sometimes, it can be very powerful to hear all the different pitches that the group creates, but it is also just as beautiful to hear the group tacitly agree on a pitch that works for everyone. Allow the drone to become whatever it will be.

Once you have created the drone, invite singers, one at a time, to step to the center of the circle, and allow the sound of everyone’s voices singing surround them. I usually step into the circle first, so that I can explain from a point where everyone can see and hear me, and also so that I can provide a model for what comes next: the siren. This is what I tell them:

When standing in the circle, close your eyes, and then sigh into a pitch. You are going to imitate the sound of a siren. Begin with the lowest pitch you can comfortably sing, and then, very slowly, slide that pitch up, making the sound of a slow siren. Go up as high as you can in pitch, and when you reach the top of your range, breathe and slowly come back down. As you slide up or down, allow each individual pitch you make to resonate with the singing voices around you. What you are doing, essentially, is singing a chromatic scale, but rather than attempting to sing each individual pitch as separate from the rest, you are sliding into each one, and as a result, you are singing every pitch available to you. If you feel inspired, this is also a nice way to bring in the concept of whale song and to connect the improvised form back to Serafine’s story.

What is most important about this exercise is not whether or not the individual singers sing pitches that are “good”, but rather that they experience the resonant vibrations of the voices surrounding them intermingling with the various pitches of their own voice. Each pitch of their sliding siren song will resonate differently; will create its own harmony.

 “The Siren” is a powerful introduction to harmony. Once we have done the exercise a few times over the course of a few meetings, I invite singers to use the technique of sliding between sounds as a way to find harmonies and melodies. This can be done on any instrument, not only the voice. When playing or improvising with an ensemble, begin by just making one sound – any sound. Then, slide up or down until you land on a pitch that feels right to you. Ultimately, it’s about finding the pitches that feel best, that resonate best for you, and that create the harmonies that work for the music in the moment.