As with anything in life, there are hard places. Rocks remind me of that. They remind me of life’s attempt at permanence.

I’ve been looking at photos of rocks for some healing and solace.

Rocks have been known throughout history for their healing properties, their ability to enhance desirable traits and more. For me, rocks are comforting, and as I have discovered, there are other folks that feel this way as well.

Davis Mountains, a pile of rocks.

The rock photo above was taken at the top of the Davis mountains. As you can see, this pile of rocks is a calling card for the hikers that made it to the summit of this peak. I imagined, while gazing at the panoramic view around them, what each person was thinking, “How this planet leaves one breathless with its beauty? How many people, how many rocks are there in this pile? Will I ever make it back down this hill without passing out? The questions are limitless.

Rocks of Peace.

This photo was also taken on a hike while discovering another rock pile of significance. Also, collected at the top of a mountain peak, it is clear what the author was intending. How many people contributed to this one is unknown, but what is comforting about these rock piles is that they tend to last to many many years, and grow.

But even so, rocks do change, just slowly. And that can be the difficulty in life as well.

I must remember  that what is and what will be.

Today is what is; the ability to sing and dance, the freedom to walk in the sunshine today, the freedom to make choices. In other places in the world, this does not exist. Rocks help me remember.

Beyond that, I need to look to myself to do more.

The thrust of these blogs are about music, but every once in a while, there are hard places. You can get held up by what is versus how you want things to be. This is where rocks come in, and where you can see there is always an overlap between music and just about anything.

And to end this, post, since I am a musician, here is more about Rock n Roll, from Elvis.

When I was 9 or 10, I remember going to a neighborhood garage sale to look for a gift for Mother’s Day. I had carefully saved up close to seven dollars, and I was sure that I could find something extra special if I didn’t go to a regular store, but shopped like my mom; bargain shopper extraordinaire.

A garage sale was something my mom could really appreciate!

After looking intently for a very, very long time for the perfect gift to give my mom, I found it! There it was, a gold lamé shirt on black, snazzy, metallic and grand. Très élégant!

I carefully doled out my coins and purchased something that I knew would be treasured for years to come. I took it home, carefully wrapped it and said a prayer that my mom would really like it.

Today I spoke to her over the phone about her recollection of it. Unbelievable, she can’t remember it! Hah!

But for the life of me, just giving the shirt was a Mother’s Day gift for both of us. It taught me the joy of giving.

Do you have a favorite Mother’s Day gift to your Mom? I’d like to hear about it!

When my Mom turned 80, we put in just a few candles, because she is eternally young at heart.

Me and mom.

She always took care of all the kids in our family.

My mom with her grandson, David Evan.

I’ll be playing on Mother’s Day, and thinking of you Mom. Te quiero mucho.

She is still a party girl. (Mom with my sister, Carla.)

My mother is a deep part of my heart. Because of her, Mother’s Day is special to me. I’m playing a special Mother’s Day event at Esquina Tango, next week on Mother’s Day. Please check it out. http://www.esquinatangoaustin.com/index.php/social-events/leticia-rogriguez

I will be singing boleros to and with all the moms, for many of them know these boleros by heart! Song sheets will also be provided. Family and friends; It’s a mother’s dream concert!

Written in 1939, by Alberto Dominguez, every time this Latin classic is sung, everyone joins in! Crazy, informal and fun…

Leticia Rodriguez. Perfidia. ATX

Love is many things. But more than anything it is a disturbance of the digestive system—Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Love in Alaska, batting the flies.

Love changes over time, and after being married for 28 plus years, it continues to evolve.

My Valentine to you readers, is to share these observations:

The first blush of love is romantic. It is about discovery, lust and uncertainty. Everything is high and low; everything is possible. It defines, creates and destroys. There is no middle ground. It is riding a roller coaster, it is diving off the cliffs of La Quebrada; it is divine.

With time, love becomes an instrument to accomplish goals. There are promises that a couple has made together or separately, that through love become successful, diminished or slowly worn away. Raising a family, establishing a livelihood, running a household, and building a life together, all constitute this path. Romance may dull, but other surprises occur such as children, that give unimaginable joy and unbelievable sorrows to either support your love or tear it apart, bit-by-bit.

If children are a part of this love, upon their departure, comes the search for love to be rediscovered and renewed. There are different needs and new challenges to be defined and shared. What was it that you once saw in each other, what goals do you now have in common, how have each of you changed, grown apart, grown closer? Sometimes love leaves with the children, and each must go their own way.

Should we choose to rediscover love, it takes great work. We become, doubtful, irritable and non-compromising in our dissatisfaction, before we even recognize that love has fled. There are no guarantees that one can regain it.  Then again, sometimes with great effort, love can surprisingly reappear; that is when you know miracles happen.

This love is sweeter than the first. Because of time, you know what your lover is going to say by a look on their face. You can predict how some discussions and arguments will begin and end. You learn even more about caring and compassion. You chose to stay or leave and find that as each day has a sunrise and sunset, love is also cyclical.

Boleros, trovas de amor, are not about happiness. Boleros reflect love’s perplexities. Within the tune, the lyrics tell of sorrow, loss and betrayal, as well as compassion, joy and love’s endurance. And now, here is a love song for you.

Historia de Un Amor

Family matters. It gives us nourishment, a sounding board, guidance and support. The list goes on.

But it also gives us tzouris (Yiddish for troubles), anger and grief. Complicated.

The above title refers to genetic connection, but today’s world paints a broader picture. For this I am thankful. Although I’m blessed to have almost daily connection with my brothers, sisters, nieces, mother, children and more, I do not consider them all of my family.

My family is cultural, political, philosophical and spiritual. That basically crosses almost all of humankind. Perhaps that sentiment is a byproduct of our ever-widening connections into the world. I prefer to think about the possibilities for peaceful conflict resolution if I can always see my family as simply, the human race.

Being in animal-loving Austin now for so long, even my dogs are part of my family. My friends have dogs or cats that are family members. They are sentient beings, so why not? They provide love, comfort, solace and support to many people who do not have traditional family connections.

When I crossed into England, The Nederlands, France and Spain, I found my family there too. My family are people who seek out adventure, travel, love, trust and passionate about what they are do with their lives. My family are musicians, my family are those who carry compassion, and love humor. In my family there are no colors, but rainbow, no ages, but youthful spirits, no politics, but that of working cooperatively.