Yes, today is finally the day to release my newest album, A YEAR OF SUNDAYS, into the world. Why that title, you may ask? Here's the true story...

Thomas Barquee is my amazing producer and his recording studio is in Los Angeles. I am not. Since traffic is lighter for the 100-mile drive on a Sunday, I knew I'd rather spend my time in the studio instead of in traffic. With no deadline to pressure us, Thomas and I enjoyed our most unique schedule only on Sundays. I started calling the project "A Year of Sundays" without a clue about how many years or how many Sundays it would take.

The first song for the album was written on March 23, 2023. I wrote all of the other 13 songs in a matter of a few months. Eighteen trips up the freeway to the studio (with 18 stops at the same Starbucks along the way, enjoying the scenery over and over again.

Thomas finished the last of the mastering of the last of the songs on March 23, 2024. There was absolutely no way to know that in advance, but it feels so right knowing there is truth in the title...and the songs.
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For your listening pleasure, I wove all the titles into a little story. You can click on each song title to hear it on SoundCloud.
Exactly a year ago, I sat by my beloved mother’s bedside in her last hours. She had always asked me to sing to her when she was nearing her transition but I had left in such a rush that morning, I didn’t think to bring my guitar. Plus, I was stuck in rush-hour traffic, and though I was alone in the car, I said out loud, “Wow. The last mile is the longest.”
 
As if by magic, someone knocked on the door of the room in the hospice house and brought me a guitar. I played for a while and could tell that Mom’s breathing was changing, so I got up to put the guitar away. Suddenly, something propelled me to sit back down and an entire song came through me in those last moments before she died. THE LAST MILE is indeed the longest…
 
In the months that followed, I learned a lot about the nature of grief - the way it ebbs and flows, grabs and releases, settles in to stay a while and then suddenly disappears. I spent my days in silence, knowing without a doubt that grief is a great transformer and a powerful teacher. It’s a journey I knew all too well having lost my husband three years prior. From my spiritual foundation, I believe that death is not the end, but instead a beginning of something else as the body gets left behind and the spirit soars as it changes form. And of all of the emotions we have, love is THE SWEETEST FORM of all. Even with that belief, I admitted that GRIEF IS HAVING HER WAY WITH ME.
 
SO I SING. And slowly, but surely, the sun began to shine again IN BETWEEN THE CRACKS. These days, I find that I have 10,000 DREAMS, each one reminding me that THE JOURNEY IS THE DESTINATION. Every NEW MOON leads to a full moon, and the seasons keep on changing year after year. There are CYCLES WITHIN CYCLES, and we’re a part of every single ride. And even though I’m an ANALOG GIRL in a digital world, I feel hope for our shared humanity and stewardship of our beautiful planet.
 
And yes, it’s true that our world finds itself in a somewhat challenging cycle these days. Personally, to me it feels like THE STORM BEFORE THE CALM as we come face to face with long-hidden fears of our differences. But deep down, I truly believe that good is THE CURE for bad, just as birth is the “cure” for death. The birth of a new life is a reminder of the great miracle of life itself. In that light, may SIENNA'S SONG always remind her of who she is, and all of the love that surrounds her. And may we all be reminded of who we are and all of the love that surrounds us. After all, there is NOTHING BETTER than that.
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There's also a brand new website devoted to the new album complete with song lyrics and lots of other good stuff. You can find the new website here

And...I did a live version of "New Moon," one of the songs on the new album on YouTube for this special Launch Day. You can watch it here

It's the first of all the songs I'll be recording and posting over the next few weeks. If you Subscribe to my YouTube channel, you'll know when there's a new video for your viewing pleasure.  You'll also find music videos produced by my very creative and talented friend, Robbie Adkins. The first one is for the song "Cycles Within Cycles" and you can see it right here.

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"A Year of Sundays" and all of my other albums are available for download and streaming wherever you listen to music - Amazon, Apple, Spotify, SoundCloud, YouTube (for all the music and YouTube videos here) and all streaming platforms. And for those of you who still have a CD player in your car or in the house, yes, there are actual CDs of all of my albums available for $20 each, including shipping and handling. Paypal ([email protected]), Venmo (@Sandi-Kimmel-1) and checks accepted.

Special thanks to Lee S. Brooks for the amazing AI artwork he created for the cover and to Robbie Adkins for the wonderful design of the back of the cover and my new logo. SO grateful!

May your day be filled with the energy "A Year of Sundays" always.

Love,
Sandi

March 17, 2022

Hello Dear Friends,

You’re right. It HAS been a long time since I last wrote, so forgive this long and overdue update. But I’ve been very busy…healing, transforming and beginning to create again. It’s definitely Spring in my own little backyard…

It’s been quite a year…for ALL of us! Personally, though, I have been surprisingly grateful for the forced isolation. It has given me much needed time and quiet to grow. Just like the bulbs that lay dormant until their time to push up through the soil, I've been changing under the surface too. My new favorite equation is: Isolation + Hibernation = Liberation

Grief is the hardest road to travel and we all are forced to walk it in our lifetime, almost always against our will. I’m learning that if I try to avoid the painful moments, they only come back more fiercely later. There is no getting around it, only through it. And it’s true…time is a great healer. This lovely little illustration gave me hope and perspective. It’s not that the grief gets smaller…it’s that the life lived afterwards gets bigger.

And when I’m paying attention, Patrick “visits” in the most amazing ways... Just yesterday, while on my morning walk, I spotted a butterfly on the other side of the street. Spontaneously, I started singing from my song, “Can You Hear Me, Butterfly? I’m singing to you with my heart…” And to my amazement and delight, that butterfly did a complete U-turn and flew straight toward me. AT me! I got swooped before it flew off. Seriously! (Click the link for the whole song...)

Not yet convinced? Last week, I was changing the bedding, remembering how Patrick liked to help (sometimes). I was missing him a LOT in that moment. Suddenly, my clock radio turned itself on for no APPARENT reason. It was tuned to a lovely classical station that was playing very soothing music. I smiled, and walked over to the radio to turn it off. I pressed the OFF button, but nothing happened. The music continued. I pressed it a few more times. Nothing. Then I pressed every button on the clock radio, to no avail! I finally just turned the volume all the way down…and ordered a new clock radio! 


Seriously, How did that happen?? Ah, yes, Patrick was quite a trickster. In fact, I used to call him my own personal leprechaun. (That's why I'm sending this newsletter on St. Patrick's Day...☘️) 

It is said that authentically-felt grief is a complete rebuilding of the old self. I can sense I am in that transition and wonder who I will be when I come through the other side. (Of course, we don't actually EVER finish with it, be we do grow around it and through it.) As an example of this transformational process, here is a Before and After photo of Patrick's office. The first was taken the day after he died. Slowly, week by week, I made it into my yoga loft where I practice Kauit Yoga* every afternoon as part of my self-care routine.

My daily walks, meditation practice and this yoga method have kept me sane and grounded through it all. Oh, and lest I forget, there’s The Dodo! These short videos of animal rescues, heroes, fosters and unusual pairings (think: lonely abandoned hippo and baby goat) make my day…EVERY day! They keep my heart open and continually show me all the wonderful people all over the world rescuing our four-legged, two-legged and winged friends. You can see hundreds of videos here on The Dodo Channel on YouTube. And of course, my own sweet kitty, Toesy, is a great source of comfort and joy, even in the darkest times...

I'm happy to report that my creative impulses are beginning to peek out again too. The musical partnership with my talented producer and collaborator, Thomas Barquee, is leading us to release a new album of “the sound of us.”  I even made my way back into his studio recently to record some harmonies on a number of our songs. I’ve also been nudged from within to release some new music videos as my response to the current world situation. My dear friend and creative videographer, Robbie Adkins, does such great job translating my words into images. You can watch the newest video, “Love Is Light” here. There are now 8 music videos and you can see ALL of them here. By all means, share them with friends and family. And please subscribe to my YouTube channel to be notified when a new video is available. 

Speaking of talent and creativity, one of my all-time musical heroes passed away in December. Stephen Sondheim’s kindness was legendary, and he was very influential to me as a lyricist. His passing prompted me to recall a very special experience… Click here to read My Sondeim Story

Now...step away from the computer, your tablet or your phone and go outside to enjoy some Spring! It’s time for YOU to be peeking out too…

With eternal love, Sandi

*Here is what other people say about the Kaiut Yoga Method to understand why I love it so much!

The King is dead. There is no reprise for Stephen Sondheim. The theater community is singing in a minor key, and all of the Broadway curtains are at half mast. And though I knew this day was coming, I dreaded it. It seems the perfect time to share my own story to keep the memory alive long after he’s gone.

First, a bit of historical context. I’ve been a songwriter since my teen years. I wrote pop songs, and when it became popular, I tried my hand at some disco songs too. But I can’t say I felt fulfilled writing lyrics like “ohh ohh, Baby, spin me round the floor…”

In 1978, my friend Linda and I met at the TKTS booth in Times Square, eager for a matinee at half price. It was always kind of exciting to stand in that line, because you never really knew what you would end up seeing that day. When we got to the front of the line, Linda suggested we see Sweeney Todd which was in previews. I’m embarrassed to say I had not yet heard of it, nor did I really know anything about Stephen Sondheim beyond West Side Story. But I trusted Linda’s judgment, and we bought our tickets and settled into our seats. I had no idea what to expect. Little did I know I was in for the ride of my life that would change me forever!

I sat transfixed. I didn’t know it was possible to write intelligent lyrics that illuminated the story in such a profound way. The song before the curtain came down on the first act was A Little Priest. My jaw dropped. I clearly remember stepping into the lobby during intermission, a little dazed and more than a little overwhelmed. I had never seen or heard anything like it.

In that moment, my songwriting life changed forever. It recharged my love for musical theater, which I had long-ago abandoned even though it had been my first love in my childhood. In fact, by the time I was 6 years old, I could sing the entire scores of Oklahoma, Carousel, The Sound of Music, Guys & Dolls, The Pajama Game, and The King & I, and even had a chance to play the lead in many of them at summer camp as I was growing up. But like stuffed animals, finger-painting and snowball fights, I put away Broadway as I started to listen to The Beatles, Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Cat Stevens and other singer-songwriters who began to shape my writing. Until the fateful day that Sweeney Todd, as gruesome as it was, returned me to my first love.

From there, it was like feeding a hungry Sondheim fire. I spent hours and hours at the Lincoln Center Performing Arts Library, watching grainy videos and pouring over the lyrics of the musicals I’d missed - Gypsy, Company, Follies, Pacific Overtures and Anyone Can Whistle. I basically went to school on his lyric writing, stoking a new fire within me.

I turned my back on my pop music career that never happened, and went full force into musical theater. I wrote a few songs in a writing workshop based on an old film, Ruggles of Redgap, and used them to audition for the new semester at the prestigious BMI Musical Theater workshop run by renowned Broadway legend, Lehman Engel. I was more excited at being accepted into the workshop than I was when I was accepted to college. I sharpened my pencils and headed into this new exciting world.

And of course, when Merrily We Roll Along prepared for its Broadway opening, I made sure to go to a preview so that I would not be influenced by what the typically harsh critics might have to say. And the truth is, the musical absolutely did not work the way it was written. But the score was brilliant.

As expected, when the show opened, the critics skewered it and Sondheim. But to me, the score sparkled like a gem, and I studied the lyrics marveling at his deftness. I was so moved by his genius that I composed a letter of appreciation. I knew his address because I had found the elegant little brass nameplate outside his townhouse on 49th Street on the East side. I used to walk down his block on my way to my job as a singing waitress on 2nd Avenue and 52nd Street, sometimes pausing to reverently touch his name by the bell, hoping somehow that I would be graced with his talent.

In the letter, I basically told him that I was a budding musical theater writer, going to school on his lyrics and that he has taught me so much about the craft of lyric writing. I gushed with appreciation, and mentioned how much I loved Merrily. (Secretly, I was trying to soothe the sting of the critics opinions.) On my way to the mailbox, letter in hand, I bumped into a neighbor. He asked what I was doing.

“I just wrote a letter to Stephen Sondheim and I’m heading to the mailbox,” I replied, waving the letter as proof.

“Cool! Did you ask him if you can be his apprentice? Sharpen his pencils?”

“No… None of that. I just told him how much I appreciate his writing. I just want to make his day.” And with that, I gave the mailbox flap an extra wiggle to make sure the letter dropped in.

A few days later, I received a response. It’s simply said, “Dear Sandi Kimmel, Thank you for your lovely letter. It made my day. Sincerely, Stephen Sondheim” I was over the moon! And I especially loved the fact that the letter had done exactly what I had intended. I went away for the weekend with a happy glow.

When I got back to my apartment building late on Sunday evening, the Super had left a note on my door to inform me that he had a package for me. I knocked, and he handed me the most beautiful floral arrangement I had ever seen. It was simple and elegant, with exotic blooms in a white ceramic globe vase. I searched the box for a card, but all I found was the address and phone number of the florist shop on East End Avenue and 51st Street.

I called the shop the next morning explaining that I had received this beautiful floral arrangement but that the card must have inadvertently gotten lost before the delivery. The florist was very nice and started rifling through his orders to find mine.

“Oh, yes. Here it is… Oh, I’m terribly sorry, but the invoice is marked Do Not Reveal Sender.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Can you at least tell me the initials? I can’t think of anyone in my life who would want to send me flowers anonymously. Everyone I know would definitely want the credit…”

“I’m sorry, but doctors offices and florists uphold the same strict confidentiality. I wish I could help you, but I can’t tell you anything.”

I asked everyone I knew who might send me flowers - my brother, my father, friends who might want to surprise me - but no one claimed credit for them. In due time, the flowers died but I kept the little white vase which I still have to this day. Of course.

After I told my next-door neighbor and theater buddy, Allan, about the letter and the mystery, I let it go without knowing the identity of my mystery sender.

Allan was very involved with the theater community and invited me to a party of theater folks. He had a good friend named Steve who was a rehearsal pianist for Sondheim. When we got to the party, his friend was at the piano. 

“Tell him the story of your mystery flowers,” Allan prompted. “I know he’d find it very interesting.” 

I did. His response floored me…

“Oh, I can guarantee that was Sondheim. It sounds EXACTLY like something he would do. You know, he’s a great puzzler, and wanted it to be a game for you. Really, all he wanted to do was to make your day…the way you made his.”

And so he did.

He still does.

PATRICK JOSEPH MURPHY, born December 1,1942, in San Bernardino, CA, made his sudden, dramatic, yet peaceful transition from a fatal fall on December 16, 2020 in Temecula, CA, with his wife Sandi Kimmel, and his children Mark Murphy and Melissa Beamish, by his side. He is finally free of his Parkinson's Disease and pain.

Brilliantly creative, ever-twinkling, lover of people, nature and beauty, Patrick devoted these past many years to his unique dimensional art and the way he looked at the world…up close and multi-layered. 

Patrick made friends wherever he went. Children followed him like he was the Pied Piper, dogs lay in wait for his footsteps, and our cat, Toesy, knew he could always get a few extra treats if he purred for Patrick.

Patrick was a magnet for kids. Because of his ever-present, cheery smile and short white beard, he resembled Santa on vacation, and he collected smiles and waves from children of all ages wherever he went. He was also more in touch with his own "inner child" than most adults, and could be seen straightening up stuffed animals in stores, talking to them as he rearranged their accommodations. Of course, he had a few of his own… In fact, Kermit the Frog was his best friend, often saying things Patrick could not.

A creative force of nature, his luminous career as the head of Patrick Murphy Advertising, a successful agency in San Diego, garnered him many industry awards. He wrote, produced and directed hundreds of commercials for financial institutions, high tech companies and medical products. He was responsible for introducing ATMs, WiFi, tympanic thermometers and dozens of other products and services, and gained a reputation for being a new product launch expert.

In addition to his advertising agency, Patrick built a house for his family in Valley Center and began a parallel career as a "gentleman rancher" with 5 acres of more than 500 avocado trees and other fruit trees. His first wife, Elizabeth, and their children, Mark and Melissa, enjoyed their country life.

In Melissa's words: "Nothing I can say can do him justice, but I am going to give you a small snippet of the type of person he was/IS: Sweet, kind, hard-working, ambitious, courageous, so creative that there weren't enough hours in the day to support his creativity, a "bottom line" type of guy, practical, a wonderful father, an adoring grandpa, a loyal friend, a teacher, a coach, a loving husband, a caring son, a problem solver, sensitive, sentimental, street smart, clever, a business man, a chameleon, spiritual, my Santa who made Christmas magical for me every year, a leader, a man who believed in "Refuse Defeat!," a fighter, proponent of justice, patriotic, tough, an artist, entrepreneur, inventor, an idea man, caregiver, a man who believed that nothing was impossible...and for him, nothing was. He loved nature, he was dynamic, stubborn, a dreamer, unbelievably inspirational, believed in rules, but that they didn't apply to him, passionate about whatever he was doing and unstoppable."

Melissa, and her husband Colin, promise to teach their toddler son, Carter, all about his grandpa, using Kermit in creative ways…just like Patrick would have done.

His son, Mark, and his family, wife Reina, and grandchildren, Samantha and Jack, were a source of pride for Patrick. He admired the family for their values, work ethic and hearts.

As Mark recalls, "My father was the greatest man I have ever known. Period. He gave me unconditional love, advice, parenting me to be the best I can become. Anyone who knew my father would agree - he has touched so many lives and has done so much to make this world a better place. "

Patrick grew up in 1940s Las Vegas, just as the town transformed into "Sin City." His memoir explores the experiences of being caught between the powers of "good and evil." He suffered under the Dominican nuns for the same reasons he was accepted by the mafia bosses - namely, his insatiable curiosity and refusal to follow rules. Patrick was completing writing his memoir, "Altar Boy" when he died.

A graduate of Chouinard Art Institute (now Cal Arts), his education included classical training in every discipline from design and color theory, to metal sculpture, life drawing, painting and photography, his greatest love. With a busy freelance career while still in school, Patrick completed his BFA on a scholarship from Disney.

While he used all of his training in his advertising agency, Patrick's art truly blossomed after his 2014 Parkinson's Disease diagnosis. It prompted him to finally embrace his passion for art. He knew if he wanted to be a fine artist, he needed to race the clock. With the support of his gifted cranio-sacral therapist, Lupita Hernandez, and his wonderful neurologists, Dr. Janice Fuentes and Dr. Ricardo Olivo, Patrick's art won awards, graced magazine covers and provided an opportunity to tell his story, "Wake Up Call: How My Parkinson's Disease Diagnosis Turned into Fine Art" to the TEDx Temecula audience. His inspiring talk is available online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFqr879TYws (Or simply go to YouTube and type Patrick Murphy Parkinsons to access the video.)

In 2003, Patrick married Sandi Kimmel, a songwriter, recording artist and writer, and their loving partnership was the foundation for, and reflected in, their many creative collaborations including the "HEART WIDE OPEN - Self-Care for Caregivers" handbook, which sold more 80,000 copies, to hospitals, hospices, caregiver support groups and individuals. The book combines their practical and experiential advice coupled with Patrick's beautiful art.

He always loved watching Sandi perform her music to audiences around the country. In fact, after each concert, someone would always say, "I want someone to look at me the way Patrick looks at Sandi…" They loved sharing and supporting each other's creativity, and their 20 years of love spread even more love into the world.

Donations in Patrick's memory are gratefully accepted by the Parkinson's Resource Organization: https://parkinsonsresource.org/ The organization's caregiver support group provided much needed support during a difficult time.

In addition, some of Patrick's unique art is available for sale in the "front room gallery" by appointment only, and online at: https://www.PatrickMurphyFineart.com. A portion of the proceeds of all art sales will be donated to the Parkinson's Resource Organization.

Patrick's special light continues to shine. His life was dedicated to showing us where to look for it…

"Some people say that the stars above are nothing but some light - but I know if I look up I'll see a new star out tonight…" ~ S. Kimmel

It was the slowest of times; it was the fastest of times. (Apologies to Dickens...) The year 2020 will go down in history as the longest year ever! Yet here we are already zooming toward Thanksgiving. I don’t know about you, but it’s a trying year to stay grateful. That’s exactly why mindfulness matters…

When I’m caught up in the dizzying news cycle, I find myself gasping for air. I tell myself that all will be well…but I don’t believe me. That is, I don’t believe me until I step off the merry-go-round into my backyard where all is indeed well. The fig tree is dropping leaves right on schedule. The fall migrant birds hop along the lawn avoiding contact with our very lazy cat. The wind chimes sound in the breeze just enough to announce their presence. The clouds float by. I can feel my breathing, right here, right now.

Mindfulness isn’t complicated. It simply means stopping for a moment and actually noticing the moment. Without judgement. Without rushing into the next moment - it’ll be here soon enough. Without the jumble of thoughts that are vying for your attention. Just here. Now.

Some years ago, before everything became digital, I would use the analogy of lifting the needle off the record for three full breaths. Even when you put the needle back down, it can’t possibly be in the same place. And neither can you. That’s really all it takes is three breaths to reset your nervous system, soothe your mind and free your heart.

Your body is the perfect reminder to come back to the moment. It's always in the present, patiently waiting for you. James Joyce wrote in Ulysses, "Mr. Duffy lived a short distance from his body." And don't we all? Or, as Jon Kabat-Zinn once described it, we go on vacation and send postcards that should say, "Having a wonderful time. Wish I was here..."

Mindfulness matters because YOU matter. Because life is actually happening NOW, in each moment. And if we’re always busy in our thoughts, we’ll miss it as it speeds by. 

Consider this an invitation to s-l-o-w d-o-w-n, even if it’s only for a moment… I invite you to sit back, close your eyes, feel your breathing and come back to your body by giving your mind a rest.

Click the link below to listen to Breathe Deep a song about mindfulness from my Soul Feathers album, produced by Thomas Barquee

https://tinyurl.com/yy5reywo

In my mind’s eye, I’m floating down a river in a canoe, watching the world go by in a blur of summer colors. Lucky for me, my brain doesn’t know if that’s a memory or a fantasy or my present moment experience. In fact, just thinking about that is like a mini-summer vacation.

In these long days of staying-mostly-at-home-doing-mostly-nothing, it’s the perfect time to begin the process of letting go of our attachments and expectations about how it used to be. This is how it is now, and we must have signed up to be here now because...well, here we are. And humanity as a whole is being asked to grow, to stretch, to evolve our consciousness and expand our hearts. Every single one of us.

How’s it going for you? If you're anything like me, you have a running commentary humming along constantly, from first thing in the morning to the last thing before sleep. This is the perfect time to turn down the volume and tune within. Are you ready to knock softly on your inner door to see if there’s a quiet moment waiting inside? There are hundreds of ways to knock, and answering is richly rewarding.

The loudest knock is meditation, and it’s also the quietest practice. It’s the relief from the relentless noise, online and offline, inside and outside, within and without. The inhalation and the exhalation. It’s as simple as that. Breathe… (Ha! I never realized the words meditate and medicate have only one different letter!)

Fortunately and coincidentally, the technology exists to support people learning how to meditate. There are now excellent apps offering hundreds of guided meditations with world-renowned teachers and lots of types of music. Including mine.

I am super-excited to announce that 11 of my songs are now available on the awesome meditation app called Insight Timer, the #1 app for sleep, anxiety and stress. You can find my music here on the app.

There are 45,000 guided meditation and music tracks available for free! The number of offerings is truly staggering! From Learning How to Meditate to help on establishing a routine, the app also keeps track of your progress as a meditator each day. And, of course, there's a way to Rate and Comment on everything and everyone.

For example, someone from  said this after listening to Just For Today: "This was a cool, refreshing mojito for my overheated mind today. Thank you." And my favorite comment on May I? "Such a lovely song. I will sing this with my granddaughter during our meditation time together ❤. Thank you for sharing. Peace and blessings to you." There's plenty of room for many more comments...

I hope you’ll check out the app, listen to some of my music, find a nice, short meditation and I’ll meet you at the top of the river so we can float down together…-

* Image of Lazy Summer Stream by Dimensional Fine Artist, Patrick J. Murphy