“…the other end of the process of living through uncertainty…” (liner notes)
sometimes when we drive along third avenue, right around the corner from our house, the fog totally obscures lake michigan. you would never know it was even there. you can’t see where the shoreline is, you can’t see the expanse of lake. further down the road, you can’t see the beach, the waves, the jetty. it is as if, for this time, the lake and the sky are one; neither exist and both exist.
this duality, this co-existence…is what this piece is about. the presence of clarity and the presence of haze. when i read my liner notes this morning, i sighed. i wrote them in 1997 – (a shocking) twenty-two years ago. i was 38. i must have thought there was an “end” to uncertainty then. and, at the time, i must have interpreted the fog, the mist, in a somewhat negative way, as something to get “through”, relief at the other end.
and then the fog lifts over the lake and there is differentiation of planes. the sky becomes sky; the lake becomes lake. until the next fog rolls in.
this month i will turn 60. it takes me a few seconds for that to sink in each time i think about it. were i to re-record this piece now, i would slow it down. i would linger in the fog a little longer, not so afraid of it, of its mystery. i’m still learning to embrace the fog, still learning to watch for the sky when it lifts, still learning that both can co-exist: clarity and uncertainty. nothing is really clear in life. nothing is absolute. we keep stepping. it is truly all a little foggy. i now think it’s supposed to be that way.
WHEN THE FOG LIFTS from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood