About fourteen years ago my husband and I were at a Farmer's Market in Southern California shopping, snacking and enjoying the festivities. We strolled up and down the lanes of arts and crafts taking our time weaving in and out of the crowds when we came upon a flutist. I stopped dead in my tracks and was drawn in....mesmerized. I closed my eyes and just let the tones pierce through my soul. I stood in that same spot for almost an hour. I went home with the CD. (Fast forward)
On a road trip my husband and I came upon an Indian Reservation in the state of Oklahoma. They sold flutes. And yes, I bought one with intentions of playing it. (Fast forward again) It has been about six years now that I bought that flute which I never learned to play. Still having the desire but not moving forward on my yearning. Well, last night I went to a class taught by the Native American Flutist, Peter Ali. Peter, whose heritage is of the Yaqui tribe of Sonora Mexico and is a self-taught flutist whose music comes straight from his heart. I learned so much and enjoyed the class tremendously.
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