Maggie Ryan is a Gemini, born on June 19^th - the two aspects of that zodiac sign representing the influence of both music and art on her life.  She was educated as an art teacher, graduating from Hofstra University and practicing her profession in public elementary school - later, between pregnancies and other interruptions, in parochial school, nursery school, and senior centers in the Town of Oyster Bay.  She combined her interests in painting and writing poetry in a salon presentation – poetry reading and art exhibit (preceded by a radio interview) - hosted by Dr. Stella Russell, professor emeritus at Nassau Community College.

She always had a love for music, and was around for the birth of rock and roll.  Her three children all took music lessons – all love to sing and all studied piano as well as other instruments of individual choice.  Her son Tommy is the stellar achiever here – he is her band mate in “Copper Rose” and his inspiring story is on the band’s site as well (www.copperrosehome.com). 

Maggie struggled through piano and guitar lessons, starting and stopping often.  Although she wished mightily that some magic would appear to make the journey less arduous, nothing seemed to click until she met Johnny Phillips, her other band mate.  Johnny is a metal sculptor and artist as well and he is the subject of the poem published in this issue. He pointed out that her visual/artistic ability could serve as a learning tool.  Instead of relying on sheet music and exercises, he showed her that visual patterns on the fretboard of her bass guitar could facilitate studying in her own learning style.  This worked wonderfully well and Maggie was encouraged to try marimbas and lapsteel guitar as well.  Vocals came along more easily, needing only exercises and strengthening.

Returning to graduate studies later in life, Maggie pursued her multi-faceted interests in research, writing, visual literacy, art history, literature, and Art Nouveau – graduating from Empire College with a M.A. in Liberal Studies and a thesis entitled “Imaging Victorian Women in Art, Literature and the Popular Press: A Case for Visual Literacy.”  This led to a lecture presentation on Public Access TV presented by Peacesmiths, Inc. and produced by Johnny Phillips’ “Portugie Productions.”  Maggie’s current project involves study and preparation for a possible adjunct professor position teaching Women’s Studies.

Currently, Maggie is performing with “Copper Rose” and “Range of Motion” keeping up with her work as a portrait artist, specializing in portraits of musicians, and writing poetry and lyrics as well.  Her grandchildren keep her busy too – her granddaughter Elise is a gifted artist, vocalist and thespian and her grandson James has perfect pitch and is on his way to becoming an outstanding musician.

Maggie is in favor of always moving ahead, open to new experiences.  “Life is good.”

My friend John is a sculptor
He pulls form and substance from metal with fire and tongs
Cutting and incising and soldering and gracefully twisting and molding
Refining the surfaces with caustics and piercings and embossings
Coloring and coating and leaving raw for nature’s tarnish and rust
Sheltering the pieces in comfortable homes or exposing them to the elements
All evolve in their own way and tell their stories to those who will listen
The sculptor’s own stories
Never static, always in flux
While journeying in these precincts of hardware and poetry
The pail of discards, a wild jumble of metal scraps vibrating with a secret melody
Drew the sculptor in with it’s siren song
Plunging in.... the fragments eagerly displayed themselves and clung to his sleeves
As if to prove themselves worthy, they pulled at the sculptor’s hands
Seeking to arrange themselves in their orchestra’s proper and rightful places
Waiting for the conductor to raise his baton
Piece after piece joyfully sought it’s companions and sang songs of all places and times
This time the sculptor followed and let the fragments lead
What was discarded would not be silenced...

all copyrights belong to P. Maggie Ryan