Years ago, while living alone in a cabin, on a island, I somehow stumbled upon the music of Griffin House. It was the most stilling music my ears had ever heard.
Then recently, by some small miracle, we stepped off of a sailboat and into an historic schoolhouse…
We were blown away to discover, at the door, that this event would be an intimate gathering.
(Mindful moment: I was not dressed for an intimate gathering, but loudly, for a stadium filled with thousands. Also, my sensitive skin was beginning to flare, looking red and flaky. So, naturally, upon seeing the small room with no dark corner or crowd to hide in, I wanted to flee. A certain someone reminded me to breathe.)
We sat several rows back. Because, at the time, sitting in the front row seemed unbelievable.
And it seems vital to inform the world of the following:
Griffin’s songwriting and music sound even more exquisite in person (if you can believe that). The way his fluid voice and intimate lyrics touched us…it was simply gorgeous.
Plus, he was an incredibly nice guy.
My personal favorites were:
Afterward, everyone took time to appreciate one another.
It was so meaningful to be part of such a thoughtful event.
We were so grateful to experience Griffin’s art in this way and we thought his family deserved big thanks for sharing their birthday weekend with us.