Two of my Original Songs on KPOO Radio! Thursday March 24, 2016 from 1:00-2:00pm 89.5-FM

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DATE: Thursday 03/24/16   TIME: 1:00pm-2:00pm   WHERE: 89.5 KPOO-FM
You can also Tune in ANYWHERE on phone/desktop w/ the KPOO app at this LINK. 

I am excited to support the making of Adriana Marchione’s latest documentary film entitled The Creative Higha film about artists of all kinds submerged in and emerging from the addiction process. She will be interviewed on KPOO about what’s happening in her current process of creating this documentary, and she’s generously included playing two of my songs as part of the show: Half of You Good and Joytown, both off my upcoming CD Liars, Cutthroats and Dames! My fab partner Joseph Feusi is the film’s Producer. Thanks Adriana! You can read more details about her awesome and important project and follow the links to it by looking at the article directly below.

Meanwhile, please check out this Free Download of my song Hung Him On A Tree. It’s not yet mastered, but it’s one helluva cool sneak preview to my upcoming NEW CD “Liars, Cutthroats and Dames” which will be out SOON! To get a taste of my new album and this song, click this link: http://kathleendunbarmusic.com/downloadofhunghimonatreefree

KPOO

Here is film-maker Adriana Marchione’s statement about her upcoming documentary The Creative High: “Through art-making, I want to show the emotional depth and search for meaning that accompanies the struggle to recover from addiction. We need artistic role models who have made the passage to the other side of addiction to give hope to those who are still in the throes of addiction. This film will delve into the addict’s challenge to maintain equilibrium before and after recovery, and showcase the ways that art can be a guidepost. I have witnessed the creative process expand in recovery as well as diminish; experienced the dependence on the addiction as a muse that fuels a continued well-spring of altered art-making; and been awed by the abundant inspiration that art produces – allowing a ‘high’ to reveal itself through the sheer presence and attention to the present moment.” Here’s the link to the film project: The Creative High

The Creative HIgh

Coolio Links for Kathleen, Adriana and Joseph

Find Singer-Songwriter Kathleen Dunbar’s music at:  kathleendunbar.com

Find Filmmaker Adriana Marchione and the process of her new documentary-film-in-the-making at: thecreativehigh.com

Find Producer & Professional Mentor Joseph Feusi’s info at his website: motivational mentor.com

Kathleen ON THE RADIO Monday May 25 Labor Day 3:30-ish on SF Community Radio

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Screen Shot 2015-05-20 at 8.39.09 PMRADIO INTERVIEW: Kathleen will be interviewed on Blue Lew’s SFCR Radio show this Monday, May 25!
WHEN: Monday, May 25, Labor Day
TIME: Somewhere between 3:30 and 5:30!
SHOW: The Blue Lew Show
INTERNET RADIO: To listen to the interview and music from my current and my upcoming CDs here’s how ya do it:
1) Go to this link: http://savekusf.org/shows
2) On the right side under the banner entitled Listen to SFCR click on the link that says, Launch Live365 Player. You can see what it looks like in the picture at the top here.
3) A screen will appear and you’ll immediately be tuned in! You can see what it looks like on the picture below.

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We Wowed ‘Em at Bill Cook’s Barn!

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Thanks to everyone who helped make the gig at Bill Cook’s Barn an amazing show! Bill says, “Kathleen’s music and her band are top class. Wow! Her songs are diverse, sensitive, powerful and spellbinding.”

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Thanks to my smokin’ hot band: The Better Devils, an amazing trio of topnotch touring and studio musicians:
Gawain Mathews, most recently he’s been the touring guitarist for Grateful Dead’s Mickey Hart.
Kevin Hayes, drummer for Robert Cray, including on Cray’s Emmy-award winning album Take Your Shoes Off.
Paul Olguin, bass player for the likes of Bob Weir, Elvin Bishop, Maria Muldaur, Huey Lewis, and more.KathBillsBarn-10

  • Host Bill Cook served up his legendary hospitality—his preshow dinner and the truly amazing venue—a “barn” that Bill has converted into a large premier performance and dance space. His high end sound system and the barn’s acoustics are a band’s and an KathBillsBarn-13audience’s dream!
  • Thank you Megan for your very careful attention and the super-kind gift of your presence and experience, and for altering your flight to go on a redeye in order to videotape me!
  • Thank you Gabriella for your enthusiasm, it really touched my heart—keep your creativity coming!
  • Behind-the-scenes Key Man Joseph Feusi did his usual magic that we know about because everything ran smoothly! and thanks for the delightful Bill’s Barnyard photo of the Band!
  • Michael Garrigues was a wonderful surprise guest—thanks for your awesome performance photos!
  • And as always—to my wonderful fans—much, much love! What an amazing feeling to look out in the audience and see you all grooving to the experience!

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Awesome performance photos by Michael Garrigues, Foglifter Media
Bill’s barnyard photo by Joseph Feusi, Mentor Extraordinaire!
Listen to and purchase my original songs at katheendunbarmusic.com 

Upcoming Gig May 16 at Bill’s Barn!

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Bill Cook is hosting me, Kathleen Dunbar,
and my band The Better Devils in his “Barn”

I’m putting on a really cool show down just South of Pescadero in
Bill Cook’s Barn. Bill has turned his barn into a premier venue showcase. It has a state of the art sound system. Plenty of room for dancing. A fire pit outside to talk to friends and cook marshmallows. Lots of parking. Beautiful countryside. And this show comes with a free turkey dinner prepared by Bill with all the fixin’s!!!
4pm dinner; 6pm showtime!

Go this link for all the info: Info For Kathleen’s Saturday May 16th Show

Or, let me tell ya about it right now: 

DATE: SATURDAY MAY 16th
TIME: 4pm/dinner 6pm/show
WHERE: 10350 Cabrillo Hwy, Pescadero ½ mile south of Bean Hollow Beach, East Side, American Flag marks the driveway
DINNER: Is DONATED by Bill!— TURKEY DINNER with FRESH LOCAL VEGETABLES And you are invited to bring a small potluck fav to share
COST: $20 donation to the band suggested, but if it’s not in your budget… Please come! Your attendance is the best contribution!!!
VENUE: Plenty of comfortable seating, room to dance, great sound! Outdoor fire pit to toast marshmallows in! The sunset over the Pacific Ocean! Beautiful countryside!

ABOUT BILL’S “BARN”: Bill has transformed his “Barn” into · A beautiful large premier performance & dance space with a great sound system · Bill’s Barn sits on a beautiful piece of property where you can dance & listen inside · Hang outside in the glorious countryside & watch the sun go down along Highway 1 · Sit around the fire pit in the evening · Partake of his famous Turkey dinner with all the trimmings · Plenty of free parking · Feel free to bring family, friends and a bit of food or drink to share! · KIDS WELCOME! No RSVP necessary

ABOUT ME: San Francisco Singer-Songwriter Kathleen Dunbar Webpage: http://www.kathleendunbarmusic.com
Hear me on Pandora! My band and I have delighted audiences at Peri’s, The Uptown, Rudramandir, Underground SF, Mutiny Radio and numerous local house concerts. I’ll be performing original songs in the Americana tradition from my first two CDs as well as my upcoming CD Liars, Cutthroats and Dames, all produced by multi-instrumentalist and recently touring guitarist for Mickey Hart, Gawain Mathews.

ABOUT MY BAND: I’ll be accompanied by my smokin’ hot band The Better Devils: An amazing trio of topnotch touring and studio musicians:
GAWAIN MATHEWS Most recently he’s been the touring guitarist for Grateful Dead’s Mickey Hart
KEVIN HAYES Drummer for Robert Cray, including on Cray’s Emmy-award winning album Take Your Shoes Off
PAUL OLGUIN Bass player for the likes of Bob Weir, Elvin Bishop, Maria Muldaur, Huey Lewis, & more

DIRECTIONS FROM SF–THREE DIFFERENT WAYS:
To Take Hwy 1: Take a relaxing scenic drive along the coast of California on Hwy 1 down from SF
To Take 280 + Hwy 1: Zip down 280 to the cutover on 92 then down Hwy 1
To Take Skyline: Take Skyline/35 down to Alice’s restaurant and cut over on 84 past La Honda to Hwy 1
DIRECTIONS FROM SANTA CRUZ:
From Santa Cruz Come on up Hwy 1

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What Did You Dream Last Night?

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What Did You Dream Last Night?

The rain was coming. I was soon to marry a man. However, an attractive woman appeared in the crowd at the coffee shop, and I thought, hm, I’ll marry her! Both the man and the woman were shining creatures, like small bright airplanes ready to take off, or scarves flying loose and high in the wind.

The window of the coffee shop took up an entire wall. Outside was a narrow street and buildings of old gray stone. There was a view to a woodland. The first drops of rain fell upon the street and in the woods. In my own body I felt the delicious holding-in before the release. I could feel the trees out on the wood’s verge also holding very still in the last moment of anticipation before opening to drink the rain.

The door of the coffee shop rang its bell and I turned to see a bewildered individual enter and make his way inside. He wore a coat softened with wear and the beginnings of the rain. His thin straight hair hadn’t been combed. It took me a moment to realize that he was presenting himself to me: his soft coat and his eyes, and something else: He held out his hands to me, both of them, palms downward. At first I didn’t understand.

The shop was crowded with people talking and waiting for their coffee drinks, faces and bodies expectantly turned towards the espresso machine. He’d threaded his way through the people and stood looking sideways between two energetic types. He looked up at me, beiA-What Did You Dream Last Night 11-29-14ng slightly shorter than my own six feet.

Something about this fellow, and all my thoughts of marriage—which seemed like a fun dash through life—fell out of my head. I knew without asking that he’d found me through a kind of physical intuition, like following the furtherest tendril of a plant back along to its root, and here, he had come to that vigorous source—me—as though we were kin.

He smiled, and waited for me to look at his hands.

The thing that shifted me, that took me from the world of the air to the ground around me, were his eyes. They showed me his inward world, and what I saw gave me a frisson of fear—here was a weary angel sad for the need for a coat in a town of stone and damp, and also a human creature given eyes to see who had used those eyes for all they were worth and found them wanting. He was on the knife edge of something momentous, and he had come to show me. He had an air of shock about him, but also relief. And he seemed to offer kindness, if I wanted to take it.

I looked closely at his hands, out-held, palm down, and by that reflex we have to mirror another’s gestures, I held out my own hands and looked at them. I gasped! Out of the ends of my left middle and index fingers something protruded. Tough little stems growing right out of my finger ends. Without a word he gave a little gesture, a “me too” of emphasis with his hands, and I saw that the both of us were sending out green shoots.

I was horrified. What was happening to me? With an instinct for the worst, before I knew it I’d taken off my shoes. My feet, normally pale with their unsunned days, had gone red—the veins, bright and swirling, showed clearly through the skin. My feet looked like pot-bound plants, when the gardenerA-What Did You Dream Last Night 11-29-14 has at last struck off the pots to find them a larger home to root.

I know I panicked at first. I don’t even remember leaving the coffee shop, or the hours afterwards. While I could still walk and get about, before I was completely transformed into a tree—for surely that was what was happening—I had to find the place I wanted to root, to remain. Losing the ability to move my body, I still wanted to move my eyes—I actually believed it mattered what I would look out and see. In short, I wanted to have a view. I didn’t remember seeing in the face of my kindly friend that he knew, and was trying to show me, that soon the eyes wouldn’t matter either.

I stood still on the street at the edge of town. The rain had paused, but the cool wet of it went deeply and refreshingly into me as I breathed. I thought of a beautiful country I’d seen in dreams: large old spreading trees tucked in a narrow valley, where a river poured itself over huge stones. Then immediately I was drawn to the mountains of another dream-place, where the pines stood and sighed out of the old sand of risen seabeds. I was searching my mind madly for the right place, when the still small voice said, no, none of those—you must go to—Colorado! I was an aspen, don’t you know. Colorado has miles of them.

My rational mind didn’t want to go to somewhere as “commonplace” as Colorado if I could go anywhere of my own imagining. But the wise voice knew better. I saw a little ridge that fell down at its end into a canyon. Across the wA-What Did You Dream Last Night 11-29-14ay the wall of the mountain rose to a great height. The air was full of unrained rain, the clouds as yet not letting down their water, but as full as they could be before letting all of it go.

I am sorry to say that I was unkind to my tree-kin man. Caring only about my own fear, I ran off and left him. It makes sense to me now that he didn’t speak—perhaps he’d already lost the ability to do so, or if he hadn’t, what words could possibly express this change! I had been terrified when faced with no choice in the matter. But as the dream ended the scrambling terrified energy of my mind began to lift up and off me as I settled down onto the mountain ridge, and the rain began to fall gently upon me. I woke and began to retell the tale to myself, as one does with dreams, bringing it from the depths of the magic land, like a rough gem unearthed which points to the mystery of the whole treasure. And I began to wonder: the tree man had been excited to see me, and kind, and I’d missed that in my panic. I realized he knew enough to surrender, and to invite me into the mystery, a real zen koan of a place. An enigma . . .

. . . out of sorts, but curious, I got out of bed, opened my computer, and looked up a place I’d once travelled to, in Colorado, a place called Crested Butte. I’d hiked near there—all this in the waking world mind you—on the top of the world one late spring. I’d walked through meadows of blue lupine, and stopped to drink water near a patch of white albino lupine that tumbled over both sides of the path. Tired out after miles of walking, and needing to get to my next destination to sleep, that long evening I’d driven through an aspen grove that lasted miles upon miles, and remembered what I’d read in the guide-book: That such large stands of western aspens are a single individual grown from one seedling. One such forest in neighboring Utah is estimated to be 80,000 years old and among the oldest known living organisms on earth, and is the heaviest living organism at 13 million pounds. The roots send up shoots that live up to a hundred and thirty years, when they die and are absorbed in the forest soil to nourish the roots, and other shoots are sent A-What Did You Dream Last Night? up. Fires may destroy the surface trees, but the roots send up new growth and the forest lives both under the ground and in the living air once again.

We are individual raindrops in a storm of melted air that is eventually taken to the sea, where we are both the drops and the whole. We are, too, the trees upon the mountain in a fling of color and trembling and white bodies full of birds, and we are the one root that holds them all, and we are the mystery out of which all this beauty comes. So, it is good to drink coffee, to marry and to fall apart if that’s what helps us learn, to desire and wonder, and walk where our feet take us and talk madly and quietly and angrily and kindly and sometimes not at all and to use our limbs and hands to live this incredible thing that is life. And in the end to fall back into the earth after the wild beautiful riot of the body is finished.

We are the rain and the rained on. The body and the source. And so, I think, I was visited with an angel in my dream, with wild shoots growing out of his finger ends, kindly pointing the way.

Photos by Kathleen Dunbar

For a song about becoming a tree, try this one from my CD Finally Home. It’s called “Sweet Rain” and you can find it on Bandcamp or kathleendunbarmusic.com

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Live Video of Kathleen Dunbar and The Better Devils

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I had a great time performing at Peri’s in Fairfax on 11/24/13 with my awesome band, The Better Devils: Thanks and Big Hugs to Gawain Mathews on Guitar, Paul Olguin on Bass, Jon Arkin on Drums, Joseph Feusi as Sound Tech and Videographer, Tamarind Free Jones for her love and Album Photography, and Jennifer Cortright for her love and a fab Green Room! Rock on! Here’s my original song, Lilah!

Please have a listen to me on this video!

A Horse Is A Horse, Of Course, Of Course . . .

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This is an actual dream I had many years ago just before I got licensed as a therapist. I found it in my journal while looking for old bits for the Western I am writing:

I’m in a store that’s kind of half sunk into the ground, with lots of tables and shelves full of knick knacks, clothes, housewares. It’s all in one big room. All of a sudden down the entry steps into the store comes a horse! He makes his way, very businesslike, from the front door to the side door. Everybody is scared to see a big horse in the store. They’re afraid he might go wild. Pretty soon he gets to the side door, near me. I move behind a table, in case he starts bucking. But I helpfully pull the table to one side, so it’s easier for him to get to the door and go out.

Now, the door is open, but the horse stops in front of it. I can tell he wants to go out, but he can’t go through the door. He just stands there. I say, “You can just go on out.”

The horse says—it’s a talking horse, of course, “No I can’t, there’s a wood gate there. I can’t go through.”

I look at the open door and reply, “There’s no gate, it’s open.”

“Well,” says the horse,” I see a gate and I can’t go through a gate when I see one that’s shut.”

So I go stand in the doorway and say to the horse, “Now if there was a gate could I stand right here?”

“Hmm,” says the horse.

So I propose an experiment. I say to the horse, “Why don’t we try something? How about I stand here, and you could just come and stand next to me for a minute and see what it’s like.”

So the horse comes and stands next to me and says, “Now I see that there is no gate! You know,” the horse tells me confidentially, “I came here to get therapy from you. I could always get into places but I could never get out, and it was a problem. I always saw closed gates.”

“How did you know I was here?” I was surprised.

“Oh, there was a sign on the front of the store,” says the horse. Then I remember seeing a flyer posted outside the store, offering therapy, one with those little tear-off tabs on the bottom. It was stuck up with a thumb tack at about reading level for a horse. The horse had seen the word therapy and being down on his luck with the gate problem trusted that this was where he would get some help. He came on in and went right to the door, expecting this time to find someone to help him find the answer, and I just happened to be there. “Well,” says the horse, “Thanks.” And he’s out the door and walking off up the street.

And so, I wake with a horse’s epiphany before breakfast!

I consider the possibility of hanging a horse shoe in the good luck position above my office door—a unique sort of therapy shingle to advertise my services.

I look out the window where morning is painting itself in bright colors on the fence, and flowers are blooming everywhere. As it is my dream, I am, of course, the horse, the shop, the therapist, and the door. Which sounds like the opening line of a good and silly joke, or a wonderfully lively dream, or the life of a woman who is finding herself. Fortunately she has got some horse sense.

Photos by Kathleen Dunbar. Horse painting by Leland Holiday.

For a dreamlike song, try this one from my CD The Storm in Our Head. It’s called “Cello Song” and you can find it on Bandcamp or on kathleendunbarmusic.com

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