Music Biz Mondays: Meet Kendra Lowe

Right now, I imagine that Kendra Lowe is scurrying around her basement apartment with a pic forked through her bangs (for volume of course).  Clothes are strewn across the room, a suitcase open on her bed, fancy shoes tossed inside, and her pink rhinestone studded iphone is ringing off the hook.  Tomorrow she will catch a plane to kick off the David Archuleta tour as keys player and the musical director of his band.  Way to go Kendra.  That's not too shabby of a gig.

Kendra seems to magically attract celebrity personalities into her life.  She has toured with Donny Osmond and last year alone, she worked side by side with Grammy winning producer, Rudy Perez (Beyonce, Christina Aguilera, Il 

Divo) and Grammy winning writers, The Underdogs (soundtrack to Dreamgirls).  How does she do it?  PRACTICE.  Did you hear that, kids?  Kendra established a deep and abiding discipline for practicing her crafts at a very early age.  When she was three she began violin lessons.  By the time she was six, she was playing with the Utah Symphony and added piano to her studies that same year.  Somewhere along the line (probably when her family had a performing show in Branson) she picked up the banjo as well.  Sickening?  I know.  She sings too, people - REALLY well.  You should hear her sing jazz.  Oh yeah, and I forgot to mention that she's an award winning dancer.

Kendra and Mindy messing around downtown SLC

There's no possible way I could list all of the accomplishments on Kendra's resume.  I've concluded that she could kick the Energizer Bunny's can to kingdom come any day with all that she has done in her young lifetime.  But this isn't what she would want me to talk about.  She's not one to toot her own horn or drop names - so I pretty much just did it for her.

Kendra has been on stage nearly all her life.  Sometimes her confidence can intimidate those who don't know her.  But if you know the Kendra that I know, you would agree that she is an incredibly giving individual.  Indeed, if you know Kendra she has probably baked you pumpkin bread, peppermint bark, or homemade truffles.  It's likely she has raised money for your charity, taught your kids piano lessons or called you up out of the blue just to say, "Hey, I've been thinking about you."  She credits God for any talent she has and she strives to use those talents to bless His children.  

Stay tuned every Monday to learn more about unique and interesting music personalities.

Meet Jackson Gledhill, Part Two

Look Jackson!  You're on the internet!

I love how much you make me laugh!  Last week when we were at Target, remember how I ordered a cup of chili?  Remember how you said in a really loud voice, "Mom, chili gives you diarrhea!"  Then when you could see I was embarrassed, you pulled your pants up to your chest and started circling the table saying, "Chili gives you diarrhea! (snort, snort)  Chili gives you diarrhea!"  I started laughing so hard - the kind where my body was shaking but no sound was coming out.

Let's get one thing straight.  Your bed head rocks the casbah.

This year you have done so many new things!  You played soccer, you learned to snowboard and skateboard and you won those trophies in the karate tournament!  (Don't worry, it's not like Thatcher was mad about that.)

You lost your two front teeth and even pulled them out by yourself!

I'm sorry I forgot about the talent show this week.  Sometimes I make mistakes.  I love you so much.  Can we still be friends?

Fam Friday: Meet Jackson Gledhill - Part One

Birth control and myself have never gotten along.  I was only nineteen when the Glediator and I got "engagged," as my mother would say.  The pill made me so sick to my stomach.  "You'll get used to it," Dr. Savage reassured.  While the nausea faded somewhat, I began to discover a few months into my marriage that taking the pill would guarantee on onslaught of tears and thoughts of doom and gloom about twenty minutes after consumption.  I was relieved to find that all the depression was from the pill and not from being married to Mr. Hot Stuff.  I tossed them into the garbage nervously, but concluded that nothing could be as bad as taking the pill - not even pregnancy.  Sometimes I am really smart.  Sometimes I am really not.

Soon after (like 48 hours), a little Gledhill was conceived.  More nausea.  More tears.  More doom and gloom.  What was I thinking?  I wasn't.  I was only a teenager!  

When Jackson was born, everything I did from then on out was guess work.  My mom lived in a foreign country and I was the eighth of nine kids, so I didn't have any knowledge of what to do with a baby.  I was frightened and awkward at first with a case of the Postpartum Blues I wouldn't wish on anyone.  We didn't own a rocking chair, so I just sat on the edge of the bed and nursed.  Ouch.  My back was never so sore in my life.  We didn't have a crib or a bassinet.  Jackson slept in his car seat next to our bed.  Of course my love for the little guy welled up in my heart like a flood - never wanting anyone to touch him, checking on him every five minutes as he slept to make sure he was breathing.  He needed me and I needed him to teach me how to be a mother.

Jackson is witty and very intelligent.  When he was three, I remember this one day from toddler hell when he was pulling things off of shelves, breaking the family heirlooms and destroying anything that dared cross his path.  He even chucked  a billiard ball at my face after I dozed off on the living room floor.  After nearly a full day of such behavior he dumped a bag of sugar and a bag of flour on the kitchen counter and floor, topping it off with a few cups of water.  Where was I?  Probably passed out on the living room floor.  When I came downstairs to see what was going on I had HAD IT!  "Jackson!"  I cried.  "Why do you keep doing these things?!"  I got down to his eye level and firmly gripped his shoulders.  "WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY?!!!!!!"  I started into a fit of rage when Jackson peered up at me under his shaggy bangs and pled:

 "Mom!  I choose LIFE!"  

I paused.

Then I began to laugh.  Hard.

Then he began to laugh.  Harder.

I picked up my little man, drew him close in my arms and told him I was sorry I got so mad.  

When I think about how growing into motherhood was a difficult process for me, I now see from a different perspective that maybe the nurturing and matriarchal aspects of it that I have lacked have allowed me to be more of a close friend to Jackson.  I try to see him as a fellow passenger on this journey through life.  I'm definitely not the perfect candidate, but I'm here to help him through it the best I can.  I want him to know that I choose life too.  Life with him, messes and all.

Tree Street Tuesdays: Meet Fauneil Purcell and Family

Fauneil (left) with family.  Brandon (top), husband Luhi, Lily and baby McCaan (hope I spelled it right!)

There's something enchanting about growing up in a small town.  Perhaps it's the sweet smelling air, the tighter sense of community or even just a greater chance at getting that part in the school play.  My next door neighbor Fauneil (Gleason) Purcell grew up in the home her grandparents built and on land they staked claim to with their own hands in rural Fairfield, Montana.  With a population of 659 people and nothing but barley fields for miles you might think that the song on a young girl's lips wouldn't reach past the tractor in the next field over.  She could never have guessed as a fifth grader when she started taking voice lessons that one day her voice would be heard from stages in places as exotic as Italy, Israel and Africa.

Fauneil is a soprano.  Not the usual soprano you stand next to in your church choir.  She has a spectacular range, effortlessly reaching notes that I didn't even know existed.  She received a bachelor's degree from BYU in Music Education and went on to get her Master's in Voice Performance and Literature at the famous Eastman School of Music in Rochester, NY.  She has performed as "The Fire" in Ravel's L'enfant et les Sortileges among other operas and sang with the BYU Singers for four years.

On her first date with now husband, Luhi Purcell, she mesmerized him from stage in a golden sequined gown as she sang a solo in a performance of Bach's Magnificat.  Fauneil and Luhi settled into the house next door on Cherry Lane five years ago.  We were ecstatic to have a young couple next door with small children like we had.  Luhi is a warm Polynesian man who wrestles the neighbor kids on his front lawn and break-dances at our church parties like there's no tomorrow.  Would you believe that he hosts a ladies night out EVERY year in honor of Fauneil?  He advertises it all year long by leaving themed invitations, gifts and even a custom t-shirt on all the door steps of Fauneil's neigboring girlfriends.  This year's theme?  Pretty in Pink 2009.  I wear my pink t-shirt that sports the phrase "In case you're wondering, I'm superwoman" with pride.  Last year he made soup and chocolate fondue and arranged for us to all have pedicures in his living room!  The Glediator tells Luhi to stop shaming all of the men on Cherry Lane.

The Purcells host block parties all summer long in their front yard.  We all lounge around, delighting in homemade salsa and summer salads while the grill smokes in the background.  The Glediator lazily jokes with Luhi about one day being neighbors on acres of land in mansions made of stones salvaged from old buildings in Europe.  But the truth is, they never want to move from their sweet little spot on Cherry Lane.  I myself would sorely miss hearing the faint sound of a soprano doing scales through my kitchen window.  

Music Biz Mondays: Snoop Minnie Min

Have you ever wondered what the insides of my nostrils look like?  I thought you might.  Wonder no further my friends.  The Glediator calls this "The Flare."  What?  Have I scared you away?  Has your perception of Mindy Gledhill the Lovely Singer crumbled in three seconds flat?  I'm sorry for any disappointment, but not all my photos are airbrushed and edited.  Yes, this is the same person:

Perception is a huge part of the music business.  It's a lot of fun creating illusions and selling them to people!  You should try it sometime!  Seriously, it is awesome and I LOVE this business.  But sometimes it can get tricky when you've been creating a perception so long that you start to fall for it yourself.  Then you feel let down when you don't measure up to the illusion.  I intend to always keep it real, you know?  Though not a Jessica Simpson fanatic, I think it's pretty cool how she has told the press to buggar off about her weight gain declaring, "I'm still beautiful!"  Way to go Jess.  

But this post is not really about Jessica Simpson.  It's about the music business and all of the sickly talented people that get to create these so-called perceptions.  Starting next Monday I will begin a series called Music Biz Mondays.  Anyone who wants to learn more about the music biz should stay tuned - fo shizzle. 

Happy Valentine's Day, Glediator!

The Glediator, Sick Rock Climbing Skills in Rock Canyon

The Glediator is hot stuff.  Nevermind this picture was taken ten years ago when we were dating.  He's still as handsome as ever - and a true gentleman to boot.  

I don't think I've been an easy person to be married to.  I've followed a career path that attracts a lot of attention and involves being on stage and creating a fan base.  The ironic thing about that is that the Glediator has more talent in his left pinky than I do in my whole body.  He's just a lot more quiet about his abilities, never wanting to attract attention or be in the spotlight.

When we were first married he up and decided to start a furniture manufacture, designing, chopping down the timbers and building all the pieces himself.  It grew and it grew.  He eventually even invented and built machines that made the manufacturing more efficient.  I watched, envious, one night as he upholstered and sewed a leather/log sofa.  I'm sorry, but a man with muscle definition and sewing skills?  That's a fantasy come true.

How does he do these things?  He somehow just inherently knows.  He sold the furniture manufacture last year and started on his newest business venture - Element SEO (Search Engine Optimization).  Sound nerdy?  It is.  A man with muscles, sewing skills, and computer genius?  Double fantasy come true.  (Triple fantasy when he wears his glasses and reads Homer's Iliad).

I don't mean for this post to become a bragathon.  I don't mean to make it seem like we have the perfect marriage.  We don't.  We put up with a lot of junk from each other over the years.  Love doesn't usually come without fighting for it.  So today I celebrate the love that we have forged.  Happy Valentine's Day, Glediator!

Fam Friday: Meet Esmeralda Valentine

There are nine children in my family.  My two brothers were born first and then seven girls like pretty maids all in a row.  The Glediator always tells me, "That's a lot of estrogen in one household!"  Dad saw to it that his girls were the basketball team he always wanted as a father.  Most of us were pretty athletic and played sports growing up.  But Amy was born with a poem in her heart and a dance in her step.  

When I was five or six she started a dance studio in her room for the three youngest little girls.  With a pseudo name like Donna Deluxe and a platinum blonde wig on her head, we were in make-believe heaven with our older sister, dancing around the room to Wham and Cyndi Lauper.  Amy's bedroom was fascinating to me as a child.  Poems were penciled on the wall, her switch plate covered in a collage of ABC gum wads, acid wash jeans lay on the floor and then then there was the sprawl of Wet 'N Wild cosmetics on the bathroom vanity.

During her college years, Amy studied art.  Found objects, salvaged junk, broken body parts from dolls, and mannequins, mannequins, mannequins were EVERYWHERE in her apartment!  

The beautiful thing about Amy is that she embraces who she is, never concerned with meeting anyone's expectations but the ones she has for her own hopes and dreams.  We're talking about a woman who once changed her name to Esmeralda Valentine, who has an open obsession with fecal matter, who once lifted road barricades (orange vest, helmet and all), a blacksmith by trade, married to a Brazilian body builder ten years younger than her, who at 35, just had her first baby boy (Enzo) earlier this week.  

"Poo is Art" - Amy at the Museum of Fine Art in Boston

I can't wait to welcome baby Enzo into this family of bubbling aunties.  

I want to tell him all about how his mother gives the shirt off her back to perfect strangers. 

How her work ethic rivals that of Paul Bunyan.

How she always tells the best jokes.

How our family would never be the same without her.