Exactly one year ago to the date, I stood on stage at one of Portland’s finest venues and bid farewell to my friends, fans and family. Yes, under the lights at the Aladdin Theater, I performed my final few songs in my hometown in the northwest before moving to Nashville, TN — the night was electric.

To celebrate one year in the musical trenches, I’ve posted a few of my favorite clips from that evening below and am planning an anniversary show and album release in Portland on October 2nd, 2010 at the Secret Society Ballroom.

Tyler Stenson Album Release & One Year Anniversary
Saturday October 2nd @ The Secret Society Ballroom
Portland, OR — 8pm

Please spread the word and join me for the special evening.

WELCOME THE CHANGE

CELLOPHANE

WYOMING

GREAT MAN’S FUNERAL

BETTER BE US ALL

Nashville had enjoyed a month of 80 degree blue skies until that Thursday when I received the phone call saying my nephew was not expected to make it through the night. I’m not making this up in the least — at that very moment it began to rain.

The rest of the weekend was clouded with epic thunderstorms that seemed all too fitting for the stormy events happening a few states away. It was an eerie weekend; my first Southern thunderstorm bloomed in time with my first intimate bout with death.

On the day I heard those words, I penned a few lines about the weather coinciding with the news on the telephone. I wrote a bit about it being a chalkboard gray kind of day that he was too good for anyway. On Saturday, when it was final, I laid in bed for a good part of the day and noted that the thunder sounded like what must have been my sister’s heart. There was a sadness in the roll. It was all very fitting and surreal and too perfect of a storm.

When I returned from the funeral in Utah, I was greeted in Tennessee by the continuing rain and watched Nashville flood in front of my eyes. It was the talk of the town and noted nationally but I couldn’t bring myself to care — not about this flood.

There is room for little space in our hearts and in our heads and even though my city was sinking, selfishly, I had a different storm to suffer.

I’ve been asked if I have plans to write a “flood song” for the devastation that struck that week and my answer is, in a way, I already have. My variation of history. This is my song about the flooding in the days surrounding The Day.

PS. The attached recording is a quick live track … I swear I’ll do it some justice someday.

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LITTLE LIGHT
The rain spotted the pavement
On the day you went away
And fell in time with the words on the telephone.
It reminded me of my childhood
On an April shower day
And smelled like the kind you’ll never know.

So long Little Light,
It’s raining outside–
It’s a chalkboard gray kind of day.
So long Little Light,
But, since you’re use to shining bright,
It’s the kind of day you would want to miss anyway.

The thunder bloomed all afternoon
In the air around my bed
And I could hear a deep sadness in the roll.
It sounded like the tolling bells
Of a breaking Mother’s heart
Holding on to a Little Life letting go.

So long Little Light,
It’s raining outside–
It’s a chalkboard gray kind of day.
So long Little Light,
But, since you’re use to shining bright,
It’s the kind of day you would want to miss anyway.

I’ve heard the lives that leave the earth
Become Heaven’s gain
And wait to be joined on another day…

So long Little Light,
It’s raining outside–
It’s a chalkboard gray kind of day.
So long Little Light,
But, since you’re use to shining bright,
It’s the kind of day you would want to miss anyway.

Little Light I will see you another day.

When I look back at my childhood and consider all of my encounters with my mother, my memories place a light around her and I can’t help but grin. She is a woman made of all heart and selflessness and I could never in all my years articulate the layered depths of my love for her. I exist because she exists. I am her creation. She is art.

As one of ten children in my family, I am often asked if I’ve ever felt neglected or overlooked in the sea of faces — I can only laugh at the person who must not know Kerry K Stenson. With all certainty my reply is, Never for an instant.

My mother would argue that she could have done better but I see no room for improvement. I marvel at her ability to care for each of her children as if they are her one and only and I’m continually amazed at her stamina as each grandchild receives the same undivided affection. She is my joy.

While many would think that my mother must simply be a baby factory and nothing more, I challenge anyone to find a more complete individual. Aside from raising 10 well-rounded children, my mother is inspiring in her gritty courage throughout this life, the range of her talents, her quiet wisdoms and the love she bleeds.

Music is her heart. She sings better than angels and my earliest memories are full of lovely songs. Early on weekend mornings while us kids were fast asleep, she would steal the few moments she had alone and play her piano with might — filling the home with tolling hymns and a crystal voice. She is the reason I have The Music in my bones. She lit the spark in my youth and fans at the blaze I boast today. She gifted me my passion.

Beyond the music, she is art. Each season our home would experience a facelift that was subtle but absolute; decorations upon decorations were stored year-round just to be brought out for a matter of weeks to celebrate all major and minor occasions. St Patrick’s Day turned the walls green while Thanksgiving and Christmas faded from oranges to red — each holiday marked by its individual parade of handmade decor.

When my father, the architect, designed their new home, he constructed an entire “wing” of their home solely for my mother’s storage needs. Whether it’s her craft room or storage room, I can find anything under the sun that might suggest the makings of a theme.

I could point out her creations for decades but it all amounts to so much more than the fact that she creates the most beautiful of all Christmas trees — the kind I stare at by the firelight until I can’t take it anymore. It all adds up to so much more than her vacuuming at 2am because there is still work to be done. She is more than her OCD might tell. It’s the care in which she creates and the tenacity she demonstrates in all things — crafts, life and motherhood.

When you give life to ten others, it becomes clearer each day that you cease to live your own. My mother graciously puts her own life aside to bolster the existence of her children and has earned her place in the stars as a result.

She is art. She gave me life and The Music that has become my existence; therefore, no single person in this world has more of my doting respect and twinkling admiration than my humble and gracious and beautiful mother — I love you. Happy Mother’s Day.

“Rejecting things because they are old-fashioned would rule out the sun and the moon and a mother’s love.”

Beck J Rippy: 2007 to 2010
With heavy heart I post this obituary; Beck J Rippy was my nephew and only 2 years old when he passed this weekend. Everyone says their children or their nieces and nephews are the cutest, and that may be so, but Beck was a different kind of soul that was beyond cute — he was beautiful. I’ll never be able to explain his countenance and what he did for our family but without question, it was something awesome.

LITTLE LIGHT
by tyler stenson © 2010

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So long Little Light,
It’s raining outside–
It’s a chalkboard gray kind of day.
So long Little Light,
Since you’re use to shining bright,
It’s the kind of day you would want to miss anyway.

——

Beck J. Rippy
2007 to 2010

Beck Rippy was born on November 12, 2007 to Tyler and Chelsea Rippy of American Fork, Utah. He rejoined his Heavenly Father on April 23, 2010, due to complications with pneumonia.

Beck was, in every sense of the word, a blessing. The perpetual light he carried with him could find its way into even the hardest of hearts. Despite a few developmental challenges, this small boy was able to communicate the love and courage his soul contained.

Beck’s happiness, his playful spirit, his angelic countenance, and his teasing smile were contagious to every person who came in contact with him. To see his face would be to look into something greater than all of us– a peek into heaven.

Beck is survived by his proud parents, his adoring brother Evan (9) and his doting sister Kate (7). He is also survived by his grandparents Jim and Sue Rippy and Randy and Kerry Stenson. His great-grandparents, his many aunts, uncles, and cousins will greatly miss him, and will forever be affected by the short but powerful role Beck played in their lives. We love our Beckster.

Funeral services for Beck will be held Tuesday, April 27, 2010 at 11:00 am at the Hillcrest 2nd LDS Ward Chapel located at 1120 North 150 West, American Fork, Utah. Family and friends may call Monday evening from 6-8 pm at the Hillcrest 2nd Ward Chapel and also on Tuesday morning from 10:00 to 10:45 am prior to services. Funeral Directors – Warenski Funeral Home.

In lieu of flowers, the Rippys would appreciate a donation to Kids on the Move in Beck’s name.

Kids on the Move
475 West 260 North
Orem, UT 84057

——

VIEWING SERVICE
Monday, April 26 from 6-8pm
Hillcrest 2nd LDS Ward Chapel
1120 North 150 West
American Fork, UT

FUNERAL SERVICE
Tuesday, April 27 @ 11:00 am
Hillcrest 2nd LDS Ward Chapel
1120 North 150 West,
American Fork, Utah

THIS OBITUARY CAN ALSO BE READ ON THE DAILY HERALD WEBSITE.