Most of what you told me here, is what I was
hearing when I listen to your gift.
but….
I kept looking for the joy.
I would listen, and think:
“Wow, really moving, so beautiful…
but where is the joy?”

I would pop the CD in, listen to a few cuts…
they are all so rich, thought-inducing,
“take a look in the mirror” works of art.
But even the lighter pieces would have a bit
of twilight to them…
That’s why I wondered if the gift was a useful
tool for you, enabling you to pour out what you
carry within? Did it hold joy for you,
or had it become yet another thing to “carry”?

Please understand, it is NOT my intention to
be critical of your music. I have told you,
I think it is beautiful.

It’s like a prayer.

For anything we do, which makes us look in
God’s direction, is a prayer.
Prayers don’t have to be all rainbows and butterflies…
they just have to be REAL.
Your music is that, Mr. Stone.
It’s genuine, authentic, the real deal.
I certainly don’t want you to change it.
I was just curious, is all.
Sorry if that felt critical,
or felt too prying.
Thats just me, being real. : )

Your music touches others, yes.
It causes them to look inward, and triggers
healing on the path to wholeness.
But…it is not why the Krones’s love you.
We love you because you are so easy to be
around. You are interesting, funny,
honest,comfortable.
(and you laugh at our jokes.)

I’m sorry others made you feel used, like your gift
was what they were after… even if they were well intentioned, that comes off as selfishness.
Nature of the beast, I suppose.

All healing energy comes from overflow.
So, keep “filling up”,
then let it spill onto the keyboard.
We’ll keep lapping it up.
But if you ever start to feel invisible,
remember…

I see you.

purest and highest love,
Kat.

When I began playing piano, I was obsessed with it. I practiced for hours every day. At my peak, I practiced 6-8 hours a day. I can’t say that I did it for the joy it brought me, or that I enjoyed it. It was much more like an obsessive compulsion. I think one of the things that motivated me was that I was obviously good at it, and at that point it was about the only thing I could look at in my life and say that about. Another thing that motivated me was that I was being told and messaged by many important adults in my life that playing piano was something that girls did. They were against me, and I rebelled by learning to play. I think they thought I was homosexual or something. Anyway, up until about 1984, I played because I couldn’t not play.

About that time many things in my life changed, and my music changed drastically. My attitude about my gift changed as well, and really for the first time, I played because I enjoyed it. Much of the “style” you hear today was developed in those years, and to be honest, I wasn’t all that good. I was still very much on the learning curve, learning to improvise and play by ear. And I still didn’t see it as a self-expression.

As I got better, people began to take notice and want me to play for their wedding or occasion or whatever. I began playing in church. People began enjoying it enough to praise me and compliment me. But at the same time, I began to come to believe that people liked me because I was useful to them. They wanted me to be their friend, or come to their church, or whatever, simply because I could do something that they needed. At first, I mildly resented that, and pushed back with jokes or lighthearted comments. But as time went on, I felt more and more exploited and less and less loved simply for who I am.

About 2000 I melted down on the whole music thing. I stopped playing, and shut down every other self-expression I had been employing. Photography became my new obsession, and it was to me just like piano had been all those years ago. These years, which I am still recovering from, turned out to be very unhealthy years for me. I became very angry, angry at myself, everyone else, and God. Most of all I was angry at God for making me this gifted freak. I wanted to be loved just because I was me, not because of what I could do. I didn’t want anyone to have selfish motives in loving me.

Eventually I learned that in shutting down my own self expressions, I had critically wounded Tim Stone. I nearly lost my marriage. I nearly lost all my friends. I came frightfully close to losing myself. But God had other plans, and showed me how much he loves me through a few faithful friends who simply wouldn’t let Tim Stone die. They practically forced me to express myself, first in writing. My volcano erupted in words, and the healing began. Music followed. I began to not just play, but to speak my words through my hands on the keyboard. I began to learn about myself, learn things I’d never known. I learned that it was ok to cry, ok to hurt, ok to laugh. It was ok to be in awe of what I could do.

For the first time, ever, I began to love Tim Stone. It didn’t so much matter to me why anyone else loved me. Perhaps they DO love me just for what I can do for them. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anymore. The self-hatred is gone, poured out in a torrent of words on forgotten pieces of paper and sounds that were never recorded. And for the first time, I played because I wanted to.

So to answer your questions. Is it a tool to me? Yes. If I don’t play, don’t write, don’t photograph, don’t express, I become unhealthy. I can feel it creeping back upon me, the self-hatred and cynical view of the people around me. But I can now recognize the symptoms and I know how to treat them. And treat them with vigor, I do. But that’s not the only reason I play.

When I’m playing, I’m also a listener. I’m the performer and also in the audience. I can’t believe how beautiful what I hear is. I love it. I want more. I can’t wait to hear what that guy is going to come up with next. I want to push him to greater heights. I want to pull the music out of him. He is an awesome musician, and I would go to one of his concerts any time. I wish I could describe the joy of that experience. Well, I guess I can describe it, but not with words in a comment on a web page. Click the play buttons, and you’ll hear my descriptions.

Now that was a long answer to a couple of short questions, wasn’t it? I’m still on the journey. I suffer setbacks at times. But I’m healthy, and I know that I am loved. And that, my friend, is good.

I understand that the point is not to specifically bless yourself.
When we love others, we are loving God.
But when we love ourselves, we are loving Him,
for we are Divive within.
It is so pleasing to Him when we are able to attain
self-love, since He has created us to be so,
and loves what He has made.

He is in our hearts,
and we are in His.
All is well.

I guess I was just wondering what the gift gave you…
as it’s so plain to see what it gives to others.
Of course I knew the obvious answer to that…
as all art and self expression serves as a vent,
for all emotions, which then allows those
interpreting it to vent those emotions as well,
leading to healing and wholeness.
But I wondered…
do you enjoy playing?
Is is more of a tool to pour out all that lies within…
or does it bring you joy…?

Perhaps I was looking to see how Tim Stone sees
Tim Stone…?

peace,
Kat.

Kathleen, that’s a really great question. I play a LOT, and most of that playing is exactly that, ministering to others in one way or another. Simply accompanying the congregation at church, for example, requires an outlay of my soul, but the point is not specifically to minister to myself. It’s to bless others, and be blessed in the process. But when I’m recording, that is me making song in ministry to the person named Tim Stone. I learn about myself by opening myself wide open and letting me flow out through my hands onto, into, through the piano. What you hear in these recordings, good or bad, beautiful or ugly, is me being real with myself. I’m not particularly mindful of the recording while I’m playing. I’m lost, really, in the vast openness that heals me or consoles me or invigorates me or vents my anger or my grief or my happiness or my gratefulness.

So what’s the point of sharing these recordings? I can’t get any more naked than this. This is the real me, and the real me wants desperately to be understood by others. If this is how I come to understand myself, then perhaps this is how others can as well. Is that selfish? Perhaps. But it’s me being as real as I can be.

Thank you, Kathleen. You’re a good friend.