Tag: Music

• “Breathe and Hope and Chase and Love…” Some Thoughts on the 50th Anniversary of “Tales from Topographic Oceans”

  Things are all in colours
  And the size of others shall send you forward
  Arranged to sail you toward
  A peace of mind
  — “The Remembering (High the Memory)” (second movement of Tales from Topographic Oceans)

  December 7 is, of course, Pearl Harbor Day. It is my brother’s birthday. And on this day in 1973, the ultimate prog band, Yes, released their controversial magnum opus, Tales from Topographic Oceans.

  It has widely been panned not only as Yes’s worst album, but also as the epitome of everything that is wrong with prog rock. It has been described as self-indulgent, meandering, pompous, tedious. Jon Anderson’s lyrics, never known for their emotional clarity, seem particularly nonsensical. The album (and the tour that followed it) baffled Yes’s superstar keyboard player, Rick Wakeman, so much that he ended up taking a three year sabbatical from the band (there’s a story, legendary in Yes folklore, that one night he was so supremely bored while on stage, that he ordered Chinese carryout and sat there happily munching on his noodles between the bits where he was expected to perform). Village Voice critic Robert Christgau was particularly nasty in his savage take-down of the album, dismissing is as “flatulent quasisymphonies” — and in case you’re not sure what he meant by that, he summarizes it about as plainly as anyone can, declaring not only the album but the band itself as “full of shit.”

  

  But who cares what critics think?

  I sure didn’t; I loved Yes as a kid. Not many Yes songs made it onto AM radio, but the ones that did — “Roundabout” and “Your Move” — were, for my money, the best music on the air. I had just turned 13 when the album was released and didn’t really get into music until a few years later, but when I did, Yes was the band I fell completely in love with, the way other adolescents of my generation fell in love with Fleetwood Mac, Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd (to be fair, I loved those bands too).  My first concert was Yes in 1976, and I saw them two more times before I graduated High School — and would go on to see them a total of ten times between 1976 and 2004. I know that doesn’t exactly qualify me for superfan status, but high school friends still comment on Facebook that when they think of me, they think of Yes (and vice versa). This past summer I saw one such friend whom I hadn’t seen in over 30 years; when he showed off his man-cave to me, he put Yes’s Fragile on.

  What the critics derided as pretentious to me sounded interesting and creative. Yes’s music is complex, with multiple key and tempo changes, intricate melodies, and long compositions that were more like tone poems or short symphonies than rock and roll love songs. It seemed that bands like Led Zeppelin or Emerson, Lake and Palmer featured one “star” musician in the line-up (Jimmy Page and Keith Emerson, respectively) known for their musical mastery; but in Yes, all four instrumentalists were true virtuosos (even though Wakeman got all the attention). Meanwhile, Jon Anderson’s crystalline voice was so high that he got accused of singing falsetto, but he was simply an alto tenor who in a different life might have been a star soloist in a boy choir. His lyrics, as I have mentioned, were more impressionistic than narrative in form; the critics blasted his writing for being “mystical” and they did not mean it as a compliment! But even though I fell in love with Yes a year before my own life-altering spiritual awakening, the visionary/otherworldly quality of Anderson’s lyrics rang a bell of recognition in my heart (an early indication of where the arc of my vocation would lead).

  I don’t remember exactly when I bought Tales from Topographic Oceans, but I do remember the first time I saw the album, at a record shop in New Orleans when I was barely 15. Like many Yes albums, it features a colorful fantasy-landscape cover art by the visionary artist Roger Dean. A double album, there are only four “tracks” on the discs — it seems silly to call them songs, since the shortest one is over eighteen minutes long. They are movements like movements in a symphony; this is the ultimate concept album. Over the course of eighty minutes, the musical soundscape created by Yes includes classical guitar, trancey drumming, ethereal chanting, and even a finger-cymbal solo. When I did finally get my own copy, I was impressed by the beautiful packaging, evocative liner notes, and trippy-post-psychedelic music.

  But the lyrics, dense and enigmatic as they are, really captured my imagination — as did these explanatory paragraphs in the album’s liner notes:

  We were in Tokyo on tour and I had a few minutes to myself in the hotel room before the evening’s concert. Leafing through Paramahansa Yogananda’s ‘Autobiography of a Yogi’ I got caught up in the lengthy footnote on page 83. It described the four part shastric scriptures which cover all aspects of religion and social life as well as fields like medicine and music, art and architecture. For some time I had been searching for a theme for a large scale composition. So positive in character were the shastras that I could visualise there and then four interlocking pieces of music being structured around them. That was in February. Eight months later the concept was realised in this recording.

  While still on tour, first in Australia and then the U.S., I had spelled out the idea to Steve. He liked it and the two of us at once began holding sessions by candlelight in our hotel rooms. By the time we reached Savannah, Georgia, things had come together very clearly. There, during one six-hour session, which carried on until 7 a.m., we worked out the vocal, lyrical and instrumental foundation for the four movements. It was a magical experience which left both of us exhilarated for days. Chris, Rick and Alan made very important contributions of their own as the work evolved during the five months it took to arrange, rehearse and record.

  

  Thanks to Setlist.FM, we can see that Yes played in Tokyo March 8-10, 1973, and was in Savannah on April 20, 1973, so the basic vision for this musical project came together in less than two months (with another five months or so to complete the writing and get the recording done). But as a teenager, I was even more interested in tracing back the source of Anderson’s initial idea — which meant checking out Yogananda’s book for myself. Eventually I went to my local Waldenbooks (remember those?) and got a copy of Autobiography of a Yogi. Here’s the footnote Anderson referred to:

  Pertaining to the shastras, literally, “sacred books,” comprising four classes of scripture: the shruti, smriti, purana, and tantra. These comprehensive treatises cover every aspect of religious and social life, and the fields of law, medicine, architecture, art, etc. The shrutis are the “directly heard” or “revealed” scriptures, the Vedas. The smritis or “remembered” lore were finally written down in a remote past as the world’s longest epic poems, the Mahabharata and the Ramayana. Puranas, eighteen in number, are literally “ancient” allegories; tantras literally means “rites” or “rituals”: these treatises convey profound truths under a veil of detailed symbolism.

  The titles of the four tracks on Topographic Oceans reflects this:

  • First Movement: Shrutis — “The Revealing Science of God: Dance of the Dawn”
  • Second Movement: Suritis — “The Remembering: High the Memory”
  • Third Movement: Puranas — “The Ancient: Giants Under the Sun”
  • Fourth Movement: Tantas — “Ritual: Nous Sommes Du Soleil“

  In the liner notes, Anderson also defines the titular concept of topographic oceans as “the ebb and flow and depth of our mind’s eye.” As a youth reading these words, they opened up an entire universe for me: the universe within. Growing up as a middle class, suburban white kid whose parents were faithful but nevertheless cultural Christians, my religious upbringing was much more moralistic than mystical. No one ever talked to me about the religious imagination, the interior life, the importance of contemplation, or the movements of the Spirit within. So it took a prog rock album to open the door for me to the wonders found in the depths of the human heart-mind matrix.

  Eventually, when I read Autobiography of a Yogi, it was my first intimate glimpse into the writings of a mystic from outside of Christianity. I didn’t read it until I was in college, and I’m glad I waited; I read it after reading Evelyn Underhill’s Mysticism. Underhill’s book was my initiation into Christian mysticism, but Yogananda opened the door for me into the mysticisms of the world. Of course, he was a Hindu yogi, writing specifically out of his tradition — although, like Ram Dass whom I would read later on, Yogananda also often quoted or mentioned Christian mystics like Teresa of Ávila or John of the Cross. Eventually my interest in eastern spirituality veered more toward Zen than Advaita, but Yogananda’s accessible and deeply devotional writing helped me to see that intimacy with God knows no religious boundaries; and when he poetically described his first experience of samadhi (deep meditative consciousness), it reminded me very much of my own luminous encounter with the Ultimate Mystery. I intuitively grasped what I now know to be the “perennial philosophy” — that at the ground of our souls, our encounter with the Divine is One, and all the theological posturing and angry-God-blather of all the world’s fundamentalists and religious gatekeepers cannot erase that foundational unity.

  Would I have discovered meditation, and mysticism, and interspirituality and the perennial philosophy without Tales from Topographic Oceans? Probably. But this divisive prog-rock album opened doors for a shy and socially awkward teenager and in doing so, propelled me on the great journey of the my life. For that I owe the album a debt of gratitude. Its role in my spiritual life reminds me, naturally, of Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”:

  Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

  I took the one less traveled by,

  And that has made all the difference.

  The mystical and interspiritual life is certainly “less traveled” in terms of our mainstream consumer culture, and yet for those of us who wander down those less-peopled woods, we find meaning, and insight, and most of all, joy.

  Decades have passed since I first heard (and enjoyed) Tales from Topographic Oceans — my taste and knowledge of music has grown so that now I understand why this album is disliked in some circles. I myself would only recommend it to people who truly love Yes or who are genuinely interested in the intersection between pop culture and mysticism. But for what it’s worth, I still enjoy listening to TFTO, warts and all. For those of us who do unapologetically take delight in 70s prog rock, it may be flawed but it’s a flawed masterpiece and an unfairly maligned one at that. There’s plenty that’s wrong with it, but there are enough musical and lyrical gems hidden within it to reward multiple listens. And as a spiritual compass, it is truly one of the treasures of my life. Rick Wakeman can have his carryout, and Robert Christgau can sneer at it all he wants. As for me, I’ll sail the topographic oceans, knowing in my heart that those contemplative currents will point me toward knowledge of the Divine, ancient wisdom, luminous light, and peace of mind.

  

   

   

  December 7, 2023

  Music

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• Videos of Rhiannon and Fran

  If you’ve read chapter one of Unteachable Lessons you know all about my wife Fran and my late daughter Rhiannon (who passed away in 2014). Thankfully, we have a number of videos of Fran and Rhiannon singing together, as they often performed especially for events related to the Atlanta L’Arche Community. Here is a collection of some of the videos we have posted to Youtube over the years while Rhiannon was alive. My apologies for how amateurish they are… clearly, filmmaking is not my calling. But I still hope you enjoy them, warts and all!

  After enjoying these videos, check out this photo gallery celebrating Rhiannon’s brief but beautiful life.

  October 19, 2022

  Fran, Music, Rhiannon, videos

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• Biased Against Creative Work? It’s Easy to Do

  Recently I went for a walk with a good friend of mine. We were chatting as we walked, and one topic that came up was the forthcoming movie adaptation of Little Women starring Emma Watson, Saoirse Ronan, and Florence Pugh. Which led to a conversation about Little Women in general, as we both tried to remember each character and what they represented.

  Meg was the ideal 19th century woman, whereas the other three sisters each devoted their lives to a form of creativity. The ill-fated Beth was the musician, while Amy was the artist; and Jo, of course, was the writer.

  I mentioned that in the new movie, Meryl Streep will be playing grumpy old Aunt March. “Wasn’t she the one who left her home to Jo and her husband?” my friend asked. “Yes, exactly,” I replied, “and they used it to set up a school for boys.”

  “So they were able to do something good,” my friend said.

  I looked at her, stunned. “Are you suggesting that being a writer isn’t good?”

  She said, “No, of course, that’s not what I meant at all! Just that, with being able to open a school, Jo and her husband could actually help other people.”

  “Oh,” I replied coolly, “so writing doesn’t help people?”

  “Again, that’s not what I meant,” she said helplessly.

  I know this person well, and I know that she is deeply committed to the arts and would never consciously want to suggest that writing (or any other creative act) is not “good” or “helpful.” But like an embarrassing Freudian slip, she couldn’t help but reveal a subtle bias against writers and writing, even while conversing (with a writer, no less!).

  I’m telling this story not to impugn my friend, but rather to reflect on just how biased I think our society is, at large, against creative work (and workers). I went on to tell my friend about an Episcopal priest I once knew, years ago. At the time he had a son, an only child, who was in high school. We were having dinner one evening, and I asked about the son, and what his plans were regarding college.

  “He’s only interested in art,” said the priest, with no hint of pride. “My wife and I are actively trying to discourage him.”

  Stunned, I didn’t know what to say. But I remembered this conversation when I ran into the priest about 20 years later, and once again, asked about his family. “My son is doing great,” he replied. “He’s an accountant.”

  Now, I have nothing against accountants, and am enough of a math-nerd myself to recognize that for some people, a career in bookkeeping would be their true vocation. But it occurs to me that a seventeen-year-old boy who wanted to go to art school may not really be finding his joy in number-crunching (let’s hope, at the very least, that he is continuing to make art avocationally).

  Let’s turn the tables. Can you imagine a middle-class American dad saying, “My son is only interested in business school. We’re actively trying to discourage him”? No, I can’t imagine that happening either.

  It’s tough, I know. As a creative professional, I know that most of us have modest incomes; indeed, I probably couldn’t do the work I do if I had a large family or other pressing financial obligations. I get it that a career in the arts is very uncertain, and many artists do end up becoming teachers or waiters or taking on some other kind of day-job, just to make ends meet. I get that.

  But I fail to see how this is a reason to discourage a young person from following his or her dream — or, worse yet, to dismiss creative work as not “good” or “helpful” or “important.”

  I may not be putting a lot of money into the bank, but I’m happy. And since when is trading away our happiness a good career move?

  

  I hope that we can all take time to really reflect on the importance of creative work — obviously I have a special love for all forms of fine art, from poetry to literature to music to painting, sculpture, dance, and so forth. But there are other types of creativity that matter as well, from graphic design to architecture to non-fiction writing (yay!) to technical writing… and then there is teaching the arts, or working in an arts-related field, from museum curating to gallery management to publishing.

  The arts matter. We all need more beauty in our lives. We need to celebrate the arts, especially with young people, for two reasons. First, it’s good to be creative. Even if someone has a vocation to go into business, or the ministry, or healthcare, their lives — and the lives of their loved ones — will be immeasurably enriched if they are themselves amateur artists or musicians or writers.

  But we also need to encourage our youth to love the arts, because every generation needs to find its own voice. Who will be the Emily Dickinson of the 21st century? The Mozart of the new millennium? The Leonardo of our age? Yes, some people are geniuses, and you can’t teach someone to be talented. But even talented people need to learn their craft, to develop and hone their skills, and to foster qualities like discipline and perseverance and the ability to pay attention in order to be truly creative in an original way.

  What a tragedy it would be if a child with the raw talent of a Michelangelo had parents who discouraged that child from pursuing an arts education. Or, for that matter, if that child had no access to arts training, because the local schools kept cutting arts funding. And make no mistake: the reason why public schools keep cutting arts funding is because we, as a society, do not value the arts.

  I’m giving my friend a pass for her unintentionally dismissive comments about writers. But I’m not letting society at large off the hook. We all need to examine our own hearts, and let go of any bias we have against the arts. The future of beauty depends on it.

  September 6, 2019

  Art, creativity, Music

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• The Heart Symphony: Another Perspective on a Contemplative Prayer Word

  In response to my post Can Christians Use a (Non-Christian) Mantra?, a reader posted this comment on social media:

  As opposed to being an instrument of thought, when I use a mantra, which now being a Centering Prayer practitioner is rare, what it creates for me is a vibrational, harmonic integration with all that is. It is a heart symphony.

  There’s a lot here to reflect on.

  The practice of Centering Prayer invites us to use a “prayer word” to help us center into the silence at the heart of prayer. It is a gesture of willingness, of openness, and of presence. Part of what is lovely about Centering Prayer is that we are invited to let the prayer word simply fall away into the silence — if we then get snarled in the web of our distracted thinking, we can always resume prayer the prayer word.

  But for someone with a measure of experience, Centering Prayer can easily take us to a place where we rest our attention on something as simple as the body, the breath, or even the silence itself.

  Yet that is not the only treasure here. My reader invites us to think of mantras or prayer words as something other than “an instrument of thought.” That’s very instructive.

  The challenge of resting our awareness on a prayer word — even a short, one-syllable word like “God” or “Love” — is that it’s still all too easy to get caught up in the word’s meaning, or what we associate it with, making it a short leap to all sorts of interior chatter that leads us away from the open silence that we are seeking to remain attentive to.

  So just as the heart of any contemplative prayer practice is learning to set aside whatever thoughts may arise, we also are invited to set aside the “meaning” of the prayer word itself. It’s a beautiful thing to pray “Love” — but if we are meditating on what love is, what it means, how we encounter love through God, and so forth, we are engaging in a lovely spiritual exercise (what was classically known as “mental prayer”) but we remain distracted from the silence where we are invited to simply be love.

  When we simply set aside the “content” of our prayer word, we are left with the simple vibration of the the sounds themselves — like “l”, “u” and “v.” Remembering that everything is, in essence, vibration, we can allow the prayer word to simply be a vibrational presence in our hearts, directing us not toward more mental chatter but rather toward the resonance of our mortal hearts with the One Heart.

  Vibration is sound, and sound is music. So each recitation of the prayer word is a note in the melody of the symphony of our lives — what my friend calls “the heart symphony.”

  Even silence is a note in this symphony. And of course, silence is the stage on which the orchestra performs; the hall in which the concert occurs, the air which carries the music to all who hear.

  Featured photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash.

  October 20, 2018

  heart, mantra, Music, Prayer, vibration

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• Return of An Angel: An Interview with Annie Haslam

  How Annie Haslam — the golden voice of the 70’s classical rock group Renaissance — became the spokeswoman for the Angel of Bliss
  Interview by Carl McColman

  

  “I’ve had a website for several years now; it’s been extremely helpful in promoting my work – and has been a great way for people to find out I’m still alive and kicking!” So speaks Annie Haslam about her elegantly designed website, www.anniehaslam.com — and about her position as a seventies rock star who, far from being a mere icon of the past, is creating new music as beautiful and moving as anything she has ever done. Formerly the lead vocalist of Renaissance, Haslam has been described as “the nightingale of progressive rock.”

  Nowadays, Haslam is still singing and recording, with two albums released in 2000, both of which feature a combination of gorgeous arrangements with angelically inspired lyrics. And to top it all off, a Renaissance reunion is in the works as well. During their heyday in the mid- to late-seventies, Renaissance toured the world, playing venues like Carnegie Hall and the Royal Albert Hall, performing with orchestras like the Royal Philharmonic and the New York Philharmonic. Songs like “Carpet of the Sun,” “Ashes are Burning,” and “Northern Lights” can still be heard on classic rock radio stations. Renaissance’s sound was grand, expansive, and transcendent, and Annie’s five-octave soprano bestowed the music with beauty and grace.

  In 1987 Renaissance disbanded and Haslam began her solo career, releasing several solo albums that showcased her voice in a lighter musical setting. In the early nineties, however, the singer faced a crisis when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Among other things, she credits her successful recovery to angels — especially Ananda, the angel of bliss. In her own words, “I know I had divine help through this period of my life.”

  

  In response to this divine help, Haslam threw herself into her solo career with a renewed vigor. In 1997 she toured Brazil, releasing a live album documenting the trip. Live Under Brazilian Skies was the first release on her own White Dove Records, and features both classics from the Renaissance repertoire as well as some of her better solo songs. It’s an excellent one-disc intro to Haslam’s work; most significantly, it shows how her solo material is as strong as her work with Renaissance.

  One of the loveliest songs on the live album, “Summon the Angels,” appears again on The Dawn of Ananda, released in 2000. This CD features ten songs of lovely benediction and heavenly blessing, each one celebrating some form of angel or other guiding spirit. Following in the tradition of artists like Enya and Loreena McKennitt, Annie Haslam has created a vocal album which, both musically and lyrically, fits squarely within the new age genre.

  Each song on The Dawn of Ananda explores angelic spirituality from a different angle. “Ananda” and “Michael, Prince of Angels” tell of Haslam’s personal experience with guardian angels, while “This is Destiny” and “Running River Runs” celebrate spiritual guidance in a more universal, inclusive way. Two of the most poignant songs on the album, “Precious One” and “A Thousand Angels,” both explore the tragedy of a child’s death — and the solace the grieving parents find in their experience of their lost children as angels. “Precious One” was co-written by fellow Renaissance alum Michael Dunford, and sounds especially reminiscent of the band’s sound.
  The music on this CD is orchestral and romantic, the lyrics unabashed in their celebration of faith and divine guidance. While Haslam’s earnest vision might not suit the fans of Slipknot or Godsmack, it should appeal to anyone who enjoys the ethereality of Enya, the romanticism of Sarah McLachlan, and the writings of Neale Donald Walsch. Several of the songs deal honestly with grief and loss, keeping the album from veering too much into sentimentality. Nevertheless, this is music filled with hope, optimism, and trust in heavenly guidance.

  

  Given the celestial tone of Ananda, it seems fitting that Haslam would follow it up with her first CD of Christmas songs, It Snows in Heaven Too. For the past five years Haslam and her band have put on holiday shows at churches and other venues near her home in Pennsylvania, where she has lived for the past decade. Looking to the future, in spring 2001 Haslam will join in a Renaissance reunion tour, coinciding with the release of Tuscany, the first Renaissance album in fifteen years. Recorded in 1998, Tuscany is currently only available in Japan (or as a pricey import through Amazon). But until Renaissance secures a deal for US distribution of their new disc, Haslam has plenty to keep her busy, including managing her artist-owned label, website, and — her latest venture — a line of “Ananda” angel jewelry. Featuring a whimsical angel designed by Haslam, these charming pendants, earrings, and pins speak to the angel-trusting child within us all. As an added bonus, she is donating a portion of the proceeds to several charitable organizations, making those who buy and wear her jewelry “angels” as well.

  I met Annie Haslam in 1998 when she performed in Atlanta; two years later, I had the good fortune to host her appearance at the International New Age Trade Show in Denver. She is a charming and delightful person, a great conversationalist, and entirely down-to-earth. The following Q & A is developed from email conversations we had over the fall of 2000, in preparation for articles published in New Age Voice magazine and the New Leaves catalog.

  Annie, how has managing your websites (www.anniehaslam.com and www.anandaangels.com) impacted your career?
  I’ve had a website for several years now; it’s been extremely helpful in promoting my work – and has been a great way for people to find out I’m still alive and kicking! The guest book is wonderful, the messages sometimes make me cry, it is so nice to know that one has had a positive influence in someone’s life. I continually update my news section so that everyone can keep up with my activities. My e-Commerce site (www.anandaangels.com) of course is one of the best decisions I have ever made. It was a lot of work but a great way to get the music out there if one cannot acquire a major deal, which nowadays is more difficult than in the old days of Renaissance. The music business is way different and it is more difficult for new talent to get the exposure they deserve. One of the problems of course being the lack of radio stations to play new artists!

  Tell me about your Christmas CD…
  I have wanted to do a Christmas CD for a long time, but the time was never right. I loved to hear the Christmas Carolers that used to come and sing in our street in Lancashire when I was little girl (at that point I had no idea that I was going to be a singer)! This will be the fifth year that I have done Christmas shows with my band and everyone kept requesting a Christmas CD…..Rave Tesar who is the music director and the keyboard player in my band was the perfect person to get it all together. He arranged and produced the CD of well known favourite Christmas songs and also he wrote the title track It Snows in Heaven Too which will surely become a Christmas classic.

  … and about the new Renaissance CD and tour?

  The Tuscany CD is out in Japan right now and we are touring there in support of it in March with three of us from the original band (Michael Dunford, Terry Sullivan and myself) and three other musicians. It will be the first time we have played together in almost years! Help! I hope we can get rid of all the cobwebs.

  Talk to me about being a businesswoman and a musician. Has that been difficult for you?

  It is very hard to be a business woman and a musician . . . it has been a hard struggle to be quite honest. I would rather have spent more time singing and writing than all the computer and office ‘stuff’. At least I know what is going on which is quite different from the good old days . . . I am in control and I guess it makes me feel good to know that I am the one who has made all these things happen. I have a business manager now who has taken a lot off my shoulders, but of course I will always have to be the decision maker.

  Who is Ananda?

  Ananda is a name given to me a few years ago by my brother Keith who is a Krishna devotee. I never used the name until recently, when I realized I hadn’t named my Angel logo which I had designed back in 1992 for my fan club. Ananda means “Bliss” in Hindu and seemed very appropriate for my little triumphant Angel. I wasn’t aware at the time of inception that she would watch over me during my bout with breast cancer. I came through triumphant and I know I had divine help through this period of my life. This is why she is so meaningful to me and I hope will be to others.

  Tell me a little bit about your relationship with angels.

  I believe I have always be interested in angels but not to the extent that I am now. I talk to them when I need guidance and feel their presence at that moment. When I become warm and overwhelmed with emotion, that is when I know they are with me. Of course they are with us all the time, but this material world we live in sometimes clouds our view. I have a wonderful photograph that was taken in the 1970s when I was performing in California, taken with infrared film by a very innovative photographer called Spider. This hangs on my wall at home in all its vibrant orange and gold lighting. My friend Patrick Moraz (former keyboard player with Yes and the Moody Blues) saw the photo and said, “Annie, this angel standing behind you is so beautiful.” I was stunned to see standing behind on stage is a huge angel with it’s wings outspread. It is always a glorious sight for me to see as I walk into the room where it hangs. Boy! Do I believe in angels!

  The CD’s first song, “Precious One,” involves a child who dies but then reaches out to his grieving mother from the other side. Have you ever had any experience with after-death communication?
I was close to both my mother and father, but have had some experiences over the last few years that I felt definitely were messages from him. These past few years have been difficult in many ways and through my own belief system have managed to get through all that has been handed to me. What started to happen to me was that when I got into my car the rear view mirror would be tilted either up at the roof of the car or facing the floor. Immediately my father would come into my mind at that moment I knew he was watching over me and telling everything would work out. He was right each time and it would always make me smile when that happened, to know that we are never alone and that there is always guidance and help there for us to tap in to. All we have to do is listen. This still happens periodically. His picture ‘bounced’ along the top of the television as if dancing one day. That was witnessed by a friend of mine. I just say, “Hi Dad,” to acknowledge I know he is with me.

  Tell me about the Ananda jewelry. How did you get into the jewelry business?

  In 1998 I was performing in upstate New York when a fan (who also happened to be a jewelry designer) gave me a wonderful gift! It was my little stick Angel logo (Ananda) made into an 18 karat pendant. It was magnificent! At that moment I decided that I would like to make it available to people in the fan club. Things evolved from there after I sat down and really thought more about what I could achieve other than just selling the pieces. This year the jewelry, known as the Ananda Angel Collection, was completed. Each piece is made from .925 sterling silver, and part of the proceeds from the sale of the jewelry will go to three different charities that I am involved with. I hope that people will be uplifted when they see her.

  Tell me about the charities that the jewelry supports.

  “Let the Children Live” is run by a friend of mine, Fr. Peter Walters. I met him in England in the 80’s and was so overwhelmed by his spirit and his determination to help the street children of Colombia, South America that I vowed that one day I would help in some way — so here we go!

  “The Cancer Care and Haematology Fund” in the UK is a facility attached to Stoke Mandeville hospital that I visited last year, when I was on a promotional interview tour. It is run by a nurse called June Wilson who she has spent many years raising money to build a new center for cancer patients. I saw plans of the intended new building and was impressed at the ambience created by June and her staff. I visited the old building and even that was very welcoming for patients that have to undergo chemotherapy and all it entails. I am so glad that I went there, and hope that I will be able to help them with Ananda. “Casa Guatemala” is a home for malnourished and orphaned children in the jungles of Guatemala. They were hit very severely last year with floods which almost destroyed the entire orphanage and several new buildings that had not long been erected. I hope that one day soon I will be able to go and see the children for myself. Probably it will be a very upsetting trip to make, but I think it is necessary to see first hand what is happening. I feel I want to go and hug them all.

  What do you think is the most important spiritual lesson you have learned from the angels?

  I have learned from my angels that every single element on this beautiful Earth is connected to each other. We are all integral to each others lives. We are accountable for every move we make, every word we speak. I have learned that we all have the ability to connect to a higher level of consciousness, for some it easier than others because we all have our own belief systems and levels of spiritual growth. Wherever I am in all of this, I feel safe in the knowledge that there is a higher power, with many names as we know, but there is no doubt in my mind of its existence. We are all blessed and I for one am very thankful for my eclectic life full of wonderful friends and fans who have supported me, no matter what. We are all surrounded by angels heaven and earthbound.

  Portions of this article originally appeared, in slightly different forms, in the December 2000 issue of New Leaves and the February 2001 issue of New Age Voice.

  October 16, 2006

  angels, Annie Haslam, Music, Renaissance

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