sandrangarner

A winter meditation / response on the carol inspired by a holiday walk around old haunts.

Brooklyn Bridge at Sunset performed as part of NUR: a choral sound bath, hosted by Bloom Sound Collective at Church of the Ascension in Brooklyn , September 2025. https://www.bloomsoundcollective.com/

Chipmunks burrowing and scurrying running circles in their racing stripes Dogs on, colorful leashes, ribbons with tongues winding themselves around my legs Sitting here in the Park Somehow I feel like a City Cinderella Squirrels cheeky and bold with their chattering running circles around every tree Sparrows flitting and floating, zooming in flocks a constant cloud of nervous motion Sitting here in the Park Somehow I feel like a City Cinderella

everywhere I go, I've been here before everything I see, isn't there anymore quantum past, present, and future existential whiplash, washing over me in nostalgic waves remember the time we were in that place remember the look on each person's face augmented reality loops existential whiplash, washing over me in nostalgic waves what was here once, has faded away what remains now, I know will never stay bones of a space echo through time existential whiplash, washing over me in nostalgic waves, waves, waves

the way light plays, bounces, cuts corners a soft glow curls around spirographic circles illuminates the loose laughter as it rises I catch my breath at this easy beauty breathe in this moment of flow Light parkour, late afternoon the sound of skateboards piercing the air the company of fountains bubbiling happily a casual cityscape, captured in time I catch my breath at this easy beauty breathe in this moment of flow Light parkour, late afternoon

Go ahead Go ahead and push the line Go ahead Go ahead now You’ll find I’m old enough, wise enough To be fine, with taking my time, just Go ahead Go ahead and push the line Go ahead Go ahead now I won’t tell you what you’re missing, who even knows if you’d be listening I’m fine, with taking my time, just Go ahead Go ahead and push the line Go ahead Go ahead now we always rush to push the line I’m trying hard to take my time, just Go ahead Go ahead and push the line Go ahead Go ahead now…

I see myself stop and , smiling sadly Wonder who’ll notice me smiling sadly my default gesture ,mortal mirror, view on the world Sensing a wall when I”m smiling sadly Look for connection, while smiling sadly my way of coping, gut reaction, view on the world I know it’s heart armor smiling sadly Feels like forever this smiling sadly, smiling sadly

A song about the many hours that I spent on the floor of the attic playing with whatever I found in the closets and watching my grandmother quilt above me. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Clarinet: Nadeen Fankhauser Harp: Liann Cline Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Looming structure, spindly wooden frame. Kaleidoscope of colored scraps. Thimbles, calloused thumbs, always working, Stitch-by-stitch by hand, with love. Piles of pillows, Aztec inspiration. A bed made of quilts. Tunneling layers of warmth, always waiting Stitched by stitch, by hand, with love.

A song about teaching myself to ride my 1980s Fonzie bike. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Cello: Sarah Overton Recorded by: Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Pink and white streamers, training wheels come off, bump-bump-bump across the grass, veering away from the road. wind at my back, sun on my face, watching where the concrete cracks. Granny peering from the window, the Fonz pacing my every move, A trip to the mailbox and back. Closing my eyes and I’m on the right track, riding my bike.

A fun and playful song about a favorite childhood pastime. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Clarinet: Nadeen Fankhauser Cello: Sarah Overton Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Pastel chalks in afternoon sun; dead-end scrap of cracked sidewalk. Hop-skip-jump, hop-skip-jump. Paint-by-numbers, a new puzzle each time, jumping rope to mix it up. Skip-hop-jump, skip-hop-jump. Fading colors, fading light, a slate capstone at the end of my rainbow. Jump-skip-hop, jump-skip-hop!

A song about Wednesday night dinners at my grandmother’s house and how a special, beloved ritual can end up being twisted in your memory. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Cello: Sarah Overton Harp: Liann Cline Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Fresh lemonade to start and chocolate cake to end. A whole stick of butter calls my name. Strawberry tablecloth and black and white striped tins, dying light spills across the field. Screen door slams and an echo of the 6 o’ clock news, grace and Granny keeping the peace. Wednesday night dinner has come. A special dark to start and empty shelves to end, imprint of another on my walls. Gold rings and necklaces and Grandpa’s old shotgun, a shadow slides across the woods. Screen door slams, frantic and pale - Dad flying back in, greedy thieves stealing our night. Wednesday night dinner has turned.

A song about the intimidating store of black walnuts my grandfather kept in the dark, cool corners of the upper level of their garage. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Clarinet: Nadeen Fankhauser Cello: Sarah Overton Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Earth. Pungent. Scattering the attic floor. Shafts of sunlight soak up layers of depth. Meaty. Toothsome. A bitter tonic. For those who dare to dig, in Grandpa’s treasure trove.

A song about a time I decided to build myself a rope swing out of thin hay bailing twine and it broke with me in midflight. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Cello: Sarah Overton Harp: Liann Cline Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Rope swings forth and back, carving an arc through air. A thin line of hay twine, looped around me, around a tree. Faster, higher, farther I fly… Snap! A swimming sea of black, a crush of rock, a half-rope, swinging in the breeze.

A song about the lovely old hay barn on my grandmother's land. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Cello: Sarah Overton Harp: Liann Cline Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: A red clay floor and worn, wooden steps, hay stacked like a puzzle, climbing through the hole in the roof. Cows grazing next to the creek, the push of their noses against the pens. Grandpa riding his tractor, to and fro, fro and to. Calico barn cat, the sweet smell of her fur, now a pied-à-terre for the daring deer. Purple clover dots the field, as I run in the tall grass. Bales rolling down the hill like a Van Gogh. A red clay floor and worn, wooden steps, hay stacked like a puzzle, climbing through the hole in the roof.

A song about a persimmon tree on my grandmother's land and the unique, tart fruit. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Clarinet: Nadeen Fankhauser Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Tall, solitary tree - a position of power, regal at the top of the hill. A taste of Indian summer; searching the high grass for an unexpected treat. Wrinkly saffron spheres litter the landscape, where the spring has sprung, Winding through the fields, showering us with a juicy punch - pucker up!

A song about my grandmother's abundant vegetable garden. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Clarinet: Nadeen Fankhauser Harp: Liann Cline Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Jumping the creek, shimmying under barbed wire a small break in the fence, opening to a world of wonder. Rows of goodness, lying in wait. Soft dirt between my toes, Puff (the magic cat) winding through the rows Sun-gold smells of growth, shade creeping across in the afternoon. Rows of goodness, lying in wait. Sunhat and seersucker shirt; sun-spotted hands working the soil Deer stalking at the edge of the woods, waiting to sneak a snack. Rows of goodness, lying in wait. Shelves of plenty, filling the basement, blue glass Ball jars, jewels of a bygone era. Sunlight streams through to break up the shadows. Rows of goodness, lying in wait.

A song about an imaginary dragon friend that I created for myself who lived in the drainage grate at the edge of my grandmother’s land. Voice: Sandra Garner Piano: Baron Fenwick Cello: Sarah Overton Recorded by Thomas Kobrick (@thomaskobrick) Lyrics: Pinned between the white fence and white highway line, Tall pines reach high to wispy blue skies. Gravel grinding under my feet, summer sunburn fading away, hovering at the edge of the land I know. Woodsmoke on the breeze, a sharp, sinister breath. A faint trickle in the drain echoes the river, an elixir. A Greek Chorus of dogs, barking diagonally down the road, hovering at the edge of the land I know. A mysterious grate leads to an underground lair. Trucks passing up the road, a cavernous, rumbling belly. Fresh cut blades of grass, a tangy bouquet for lunch. Every day, handfuls of grass and hay, to keep the beast at bay, hovering at the edge of the land I know. Burning, bright eyes peer from a world beneath and beyond. To catch a glimpse of my friend, I hold my breath.

Stay (America) - 2016 / 2024 I want to hit the road, nomadic not tribal to get to know you; to start to heal to tear down the walls - the ones that divide us to tackle the truth, reveal the real America I want to choose my words carefully, wicked and wise to know what I mean, and mean what I say to unlock hearts and open up minds to destroy the dark with the light of day: love Stay woke, stay active, stay vocal, stay strong I’m in it now and in it for the long game I want to hear the fear and anger in this vote to know the why behind the party line to understand all the values and hopes that drove the fervent need for change this time around I want to shine like the sun, melting a glacier to thaw the deep chill of our unknown fears to soften the sharp edges of anger to move the needle hard across the years, and… Stay woke, stay active, stay vocal, stay strong I’m in it now and in it for the long game I want to see past the idea of us and them to look for and find the me inside of you to seek empathy and intuition to come together and rebuild anew, America. Stay woke, stay active, stay vocal, stay strong I’m in it now and in it for the long game.

A duet for violin and piano inspired by the Linville Gorge Falls in North Carolina where I grew up.