Posts for 2008

Welcome to the World…

Helloooooo out there! I am overjoyed to spread the word that Dashiell is born. On November 17, 2008 at 4:45 pm, held above all reason and effort, the truest thing I ever saw, the vision, which felt like unchained ecstasy, the son like the sun shown, and pressed against every heart in the room. Sophie B.
here for more.

Hi Kids!

Hi kids! My due date was November 10th, but we’re still having fun in the tum! Here’s some pics of me ‘sizing with the mystery boy yesterday. We’re putting up something special very soon, so check back….your pregnant songwriter

One Month

I am one month and some days away from delivering, bearing, this child who I don’t know, into the world. Into this world. People say I will know him immediately, I felt that before, when I was aware of his soul, but since he’s been growing in my womb, which doesn’t feel like mine, it feels like his apartment beneath my lungs, the mystery has obscured any recognition.

I feel it, physically, the kicks, the tightness, the churning of his body moving into and around his diving position. He is no burden, I work and work out and walk and play just like ever, I sleep, dream and don’t even realize what’s coming. Maybe that’s a blessing, ‘cause even as I prepare in all the ways one must in this day and age for a human to burst onto the scene of life, as I execute my due diligence in the world of rules and regulations, I am as if getting ready to join the Navy. That may sound harsh, but it’s how my mind is, reworking songs, making better demos, compiling a strategy when I walk away from the creativity, making sure the musical is in position so I can be fully onto my album, going to as many art classes as I can so when the inevitable happens, I’ll have all this in my arsenal.

I think because freedom, I know I’m told the opposite, is at the end of the shore and the beginning of the sea. I remember him as the sun setting on the ocean, his golden yellow light spreading over the waves, that is where I first heard him, that is where I made the commitment to be his mother. Two weeks later he took me up on it.


My worry, the only one I feel allot, is that Finn will feel threatened, that Sailor won’t like him, that Huckleberry will retreat. I won’t let it be that way, and I also strategize for all of them to be integrated from the very beginning, but I know I can’t control the feelings of my fur children. The animals articulate my fear of the big change where I can’t otherwise admit it. We have right now the perfect balance, and we work at it, we rejoice in it, we guard it. Yet, it’s a hard won victory, this moment of play and creating and being around without having to go off and be the performer, it’s a sandbar we’re on, and it won’t be this way for long, or ever again. We know it. And my son, with his strong little heels in my ribs probably knows it, too. Even though he’s inside my skin, he’s here and very much a part of this early fall.

I feel everything is moving into position at the same time, my son, my album, the musical and a foundation for future explorations as a painter. I just realized this. The nature of it. I catch a glimpse of something and act, the process seems to do with me, the dedication to manifest what I sensed so clearly in an offhand millisecond demands all of me, to focus and, as I said, guard it as it grows into being. And yet, it’s to do with him, the song, the art, I’m the earth that must be tilled, the mind that must be trained, the body that must be opened to let them all come through in their time. What proves this is the fact that we do it, we go through any amount of pain and self sacrifice for the child, and the art. For the mission of whatever is one’s calling. Calling to service, not calling to self fulfillment, although, when the spiritual connection is the line through which the call comes, they are one and the same.

Well, my friends, there is talk of a tour in Spring to support the album, and so I will continue to hunker down and have much to share. We will all have much to share in the Spring, I believe. May health and perspective be yours, and mine.

Your faithful songwriter, Sophie.

On The Road

Hello, its me. I’m driving from Nevada through to Utah, the clouds peace making, they are like rock faces in the sky, the more I look the easier it is to invert them with the mountains. Will people live in this desert someday, my god there are craters, or will there always be this wonderful hollow voice of spirit telling the stories of all and no time, unbroken by our chatter.

I am every hour becoming a mother, and it takes all that, the transformation is omnipresent, least of all physically. For me it has been like out here in the desert setting sun, a growing voice of pure existence, a trust in listening, clearing, letting things fall away, finding truer strength and knowing a call, a calling, beyond what my will can manifest. When I received the award from the Marine Academy for my devotion to the turtles I said I didn’t show up for a grammy nomination but I jumped on a plane lickety split for this. I said my son will be so proud of this award, and I thought how clear the bond of nature is between us, already.

I had such a great time exploring Buzzards Bay in bare feet before driving to Rockland, Maine for two days. I never knew how Maine really is, water everywhere and almost pristine, I think because the harsh winters quell the growth, so come Spring there is an exuberance unmatched in the woods and fields. And even by summer’s end, there is no sense of lilting or dragging beneath the weight of the sun, rebirth is flowing in the river under Camden town and underfoot. It is always sad going West from the East for me, but there is still a great sense of purpose in it, in the work I’m doing and even in the separation from one beloved and opening up to another, more difficult one.

Now I know more than ever there is a time for everything, and everything has it’s time. Something’s have all time. Ok for now, I put a segment of a new demo on the short, rough film “we will not be silenced”. You tube it. Bye, from the pungent Zion national park.


goodnight, Virginia

Hello out there from in here, I have sad news. My Labrador, Virginia Lee Woolfe, died today in my arms.”V” deserves description, and because I love her so much, I will attach myself in every way to her magnificent simplicity, her uncalculated elegance, her effervescent youth.


I met V in a cage in Oxnard Ca. in 1996; I had never had a dog and had looked in every shelter my dear friend Bonnie (whom I’m sure V is happy to see again) would drive with me to. I didn’t know where I was, because, as a New Yorker, Oxnard is beyond reference, but I saw her compassionate eyes as she sat resigned and uncomplaining in that depressingly cramped space, and I said “I want you.” I named her the moment she curled at my knees in the passenger side of my newly leased Jaguar, she was about 18 months old and too frightened to pick her head up. Over the next few months as V trained me to be her mother and best friend she got to like the Jaguar very much, the passenger seat became her’s and her’s alone, I chauffeured her to the great hikes and beaches of Ca., and she enjoyed the many luxuries of air conditioned studios and catering on sets.

V and I not only went from lonely puppies to young adults and finally seasoned women together, we seemed to settle into ourselves at the same pace. We found Venice where we could walk and walk and walk on the poetic streets, Oakwood park where she had her kid admirers who adored throwing her tennis ball until I carried her home sometimes, and the beach during the wonderful winter rain storms. My life with V has been peaceful, strong and private. No matter what has gone on over these past years, I could depend on V, my Woolrich flannel jacket and my LL Bean boots, and of course, my blue jeans. Being alone with V was like being in a Robert Frost poem, complete yet open ended. Nature bound, yet spiritually unlimited. I wanted to live with V everywhere, especially New York, and I always promised her Central Park, but I never stopped touring and working long enough to plan a week ahead, and the basic truth is, V was everywhere to me. She stopped me yearning to be back in my city or forward in Australia, she centered me with her practical, contented love of being. I used to say that before I ever got involved with a religion or a spiritual practice or God forbid a guru, I’d follow V around for a week and learn what living is really about.

Some of you have met Huckleberry on the road, well, V was her teacher. When V met Huckleberry she was a black ball of wild furr who couldn’t walk five steps without stumbling. V taught her how to stay on the sidewalk, avoid the Pit bulls, stop at the curb, walk without needing a leash and get everything she wants out of her people. V also taught Huck how to behave in the studio so she isn’t thrown out during recording, even Jennifer Love Hewitt did amazing vocals while Huck sat quietly in her fur house on the piano in the same room, unbeknownced to the perceptive star. How many musos have said, “your dog is so cool, I did’t realize she’s been here the whole time.” That is a key point of creating, to be a guiding force and yet unseen, to close the gap without sucking an ounce of energy from the progress.


We had a great last day on earth together, V and I, she sat on the stoop with me and ate buttered toast, I took her in her cart to the beach, and she had steak for lunch.


Her whole family gathered round her in the last hours and the wind blew through the Eucalyptus leaves, Hummingbirds hovered, neighbors came to kiss her goodbye and I got to lay with her in my arms and feel our eternal relationship.

The Four Of Us

I didn’t say goodbye, I said “see you soon”, because when I do see her again, when she greets me at the gates with that fantastic wagging tail, it won’t feel like even a moment has passed. We’ll pick right up where we left off in the stream of life. Although, when I die, I must remember to have a tennis ball in my hand.

Goodnight, V.

Free Vi


Hello people of the light, I want to thank every one at the Denver show for egging me on in that Heat! It was super fun, and if I weren’t delerious I would have played more new songs.

Listen, I’m writing so passionately for the musical, and also I’m putting out a feeler for the right team players for the new album. When I find them I’ll post live footage. Please be patient ’cause there is so much good stuff coming out and coming in, I’m on the creative plane I want to be on, but it takes physical time to package it all up and get it out.

Be in touch! Sophie B.


How Could This Happen in 2008

Race Is Over’: Polling Firm to Quit Asking Clinton Questions National polling firm Rasmussen Reports announced on Friday that it will stop polling people about the presidential campaign of Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton because her opponent, Sen. Barack Obama, will win the Democratic nomination.” No matter who your candidate- there is no question that the media has treated Hillary Clinton with disdain and disrespect.

She is “Tanya Harding him, she is like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction (this from NPR), she cackles, she is castrating, she needs to be taken behind the barn, she is in the drivers seat-and drives like a typical woman” and so it went. The DNC jumped if they thought there was any hint of race baiting but sexism-Hey- Iron my shirt bitch—no problem. This can never happen to a women in public life again. The media has determined how frightened we should be after 9/11 (yes, the NY Times included) and who we should nominate- No doubt they love John McCain as well -we’ll see who “they” choose for our President- Still not sure how women and the men who love them could let this happen? Is it just so endemic that we don’t even notice? We better start paying attention.

Quitters Never Win By Ellen R. Malcolm Saturday, May 10, 2008;

When I was growing up in the 1960s, I wanted to play basketball. In those days, the rules said girls could dribble only three steps and then had to pass the ball. To make sure we didn’t overexert ourselves, we weren’t allowed to cross the half-court line. It’s a wonder our fans (our mothers) could stay awake when a typical game’s final score was 14-10. It’s remarkable that my generation of women entered the workforce and began to compete in business, politics and the hurly-burly of life outside the home. How did we ever learn to locate, much less channel, our competitive instincts in a world that made us play half-court and assumed that we would be content staying home to iron the shirts? It’s a tremendous tribute to women of my generation that we sucked it up and learned to compete in the toughest environments.

Which brings us to Hillary Clinton running for president. This brilliant woman believes that she can compete for the most powerful office in the world. She believes that she can do a better job than any of the men running to lead our country through these challenging times. And millions of Americans, women and men, believe that she is correct.Yet over and over again the media and her opponents have claimed that she is defeated — it’s over, she can’t win, she’s a loser. And over and over again — in New Hampshire, on Super Tuesday, in Texas and Ohio, in Pennsylvania last month, and in Indiana this week — female voters poured out of their homes to cast their ballots for her. They know that women can compete, and they want to make sure that women, especially this woman, can win.

It’s not surprising that low-income working women are the cornerstone of Hillary’s success. Many of these women live on the edge of disaster. A pink slip, a family member’s illness, a parent who can no longer live alone, a car that won’t start or a mortgage rate that goes up — all are threats that could devastate the family. And yet these women do what women have done for ages. They put on a confident face, feed their children breakfast and get them off to school. They don’t quit. They suck it up and fight back against whatever life throws their way. They see in Hillary Clinton a candidate who understands the pressures they face. As they watch her tough it out against all odds, refusing to quit and continuing to compete against whatever the media and her opponents throw her way, they see a woman as tough and resilient as they are. They clearly want her to win. Her victory, I believe, is their victory.So here we are in the fourth quarter of the nominating process and the game is too close to call.

Once again, the opponents and the media are calling for Hillary to quit. The first woman ever to win a presidential primary is supposed to stop competing, to curtsy and exit stage right.Why on earth should one candidate quit before the contest is finished? Democrats need not be so fainthearted. Both of the party’s remaining candidates have raised tens of millions of dollars. Both have the respect of Democrats nationwide. Each has a progressive agenda that stands in stark contrast to Sen. John McCain and his adherence to Bush administration policies.So why are some Democrats so afraid? We simply need to count every vote, let the remaining states have their say and see the process through to its conclusion.Hillary Clinton certainly has the right to compete till the end. But I believe Hillary also has a responsibility to play the game to its conclusion. For the women of my generation who learned to find and channel their competitiveness, for the working women who never falter in the face of pressure, for the younger women who still believe women can do anything, Hillary is a champion. She’s shown us over and over that winners never quit and that quitters never win. We’ll cheer her on until the game is over. And we hope that when the final whistle blows, we will have elected the first female president and the best president our country has ever had.

The writer is founder and president of Emily’s List.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Hello people of the light! I have had a most inspirational experience in Portland and Eugene with Hillary supporters this weekend. In fact, as I recall a preacher talking about the feast of the Pentecost on my radio wake up call this morning, and it was a fine message, it didn’t hold a candle to Dr. Alice Palmer delivering her message about the greatness of Hillary’s struggle and achievements, hand in hand with her own, and all of ours’, at a school in Eugene.

Campaigning in Oregon

Mother’s day has special significance for me this year, because of my committment to the most courageous mother in America, Hillary Clinton, and because I finally get that when mother’s can take care of their children and themselves, when they have the opportunities to be and become themselves and balance what they need to do in the world with what they need to do at home, they are the foundations of great communities and a strong, independent country.

Campaigning in Oregon

Watch Chelsea’s mother day card about her mother, it made me cry. To think that Hillary Rodham was able to raise a child so deftly, so brilliantly, and the proof is in the pudding, while working tirelessly on behalf of families and getting lasting results, and arriving perhaps as the president of the United States, means that everything is possible. Only a woman could do this.

If you believe as I do that Hillary should be President not Vice president, that winners never quit and she should be encouraged to run to the convention and have every vote count, Florida included, she needs to hear from you. Howard Dean needs to hear from you. The people’s voice, not the pundits’, needs to be represented. Speaking yesterday were Ann Lewis, senior advisor to Hillary Clinton, Dr. Alice Palmer, former state Senator (IL) and teacher, Ellen Malcolm, president and founder of Emily’s list, The Honorable Betty Roberts, first woman Supreme Court Justice on the Oregon Supreme Court and Erica Alexander, Actress. I wish you could have heard them all, but check them out on your own and be lifted!

Sophie With Ann Lewis

Sophie With Anne Lewis

Happy Mother’s Day!!!!!!!!!!! Sophie B.

Huck Canvassing
Huck Canvassing

Sophie With Former President Bill Clinton Looking On

Sophie and Bill Clinton

Sophie At Dallas Fundraiser

Sophie At A Dallas Fundraiser

Sophie Performing At A Dallas Fundraiser for Hillary
Photo by Lara Bierner