Mary Lou Prince
 
 

Some journeys begin at the beginning.  We pack our bags and say goodbye to friends and hop into trains, or buses or boats or airplanes or jump up into the middle of a cloud. Our travels into memories are not linear.  They can plunge us deep into the past and then halfway back.  We can float on them like clouds, our backs cool against them as one image transforms into another: an angel becomes a dragon and then all of a sudden, we are left with only wispy trails pulling us into the blue horizon.   Music can be a gateway to a world beyond what our eyes can see.

"Elegant simplicity, wonderfully plaintive music". The Scotsman, Edinburgh, Scotland.

“Her music is hauntingly beautiful...”  Chunichi Newspaper, Japan (describing “Ryutandan,” a composition commissioned by the city of Kanazawa to work with geisha musicians.)

In Japan, I learned to love the traditional instruments that in many ways mimicked what was found in nature--the cracking of the new bamboo in springtime.  The call of the bush warbler.  In a very real way, our two decades in Japan tuned my ears to the sounds of this Earth.  When we found our old house in the mountains, I ran behind the house and listened to the sounds of the wind blowing up from the valley and through the forest that surrounded us.  Our move to Arizona inspired me to write songs, something that I had not done since my university days. Perhaps it was the sunlight or the return to a place where English was all around us.  During five years in Arizona, I wrote over 50 new songs for solo voice and for choir.  Now, newly moved to the Salt Lake Valley, I am entranced by the mountains and new songs are brewing.