Between Others and Near

I played piano Saturday evening, Memorial Day weekend, in The Seasons at Sandpoint for a private party among good people. I love this kind of setting. My job is to provide atmosphere by maintaining soft melodic background music in support of the numerous conversations that happen when people get together. Having the gentle melodies of a single-voiced piano floating through the room and out onto the deck helps people relax and open up.

Hosts, Chris and Kathy Chambers, who have the heart to understand why people socialize, know exceedingly well how to provide the amenities of a great gathering. Wonderful gourmet food was prepared professionally by the team of Joy Tharp and Michelle Pecukonis, dba Skeyes The Limit Catering. The Seasons' full-time Concierge, Tom Parks, served an incredible line-up of fine wines with knowledge to support the tastes and preferences of everyone present. The stage was set overlooking Pend d'Oreille Bay and the Cabinet Mountain Range in the distance where the sun rises and full moons lift off mountain peaks on summer nights to dance romantically across the water of this pure natural lake.

To play piano in this precious setting is to fill my soul with song. I found it very easy to report my deepest feelings musically. Consequently, this was one of the more enjoyable piano gigs I've had in awhile. I played for 4 hours using my Kawaii's single-track recording capability to take short breaks when needed. Following a good set, I'd press the play-back and take time off the bench to talk briefly with The Seasons' guests. The electric piano filled the air for me.

I gained both strength and energy as I allowed the music to flow through my fingers. The last hour was the best. By then I had reached the zone, that place of fluidity, where one's musical knowledge and experience combine into a flawless combination of rhythm and melodies that come off without any thought about it, no effort at all. The music just is and perfectly so.

Performing musicians know this place, particularly jazz players. In the zone, I feel I'm actually talking through the keyboard. A note is not just a note in the zone; it's part of a dazzling chain of individual sounds strung dreamily together to carry the air. In the zone, I'm singing through the key board, supporting the friendships and intellects of fifty people, in this case, who are out there getting to know each other. The zone is somewhere between others and near, just beyond self.

That's the way it should be. I'm there to provide atmosphere. I know I'm successful when people linger and laugh and enjoy each other as they did last night.

### Dwayne K. Parsons