Nathan Frazer

There’s a sufi saying I came across from Pir Elias Amidon and it simply says, “Do the beautiful.” 

I have been trying to carry this with me everyday. 

What should I do?
Do the beautiful.

What is beautiful? 

Whatever is good, joyful, and surprising in the moment.   

Sometimes just being silent is beautiful. Actually, a lot of times it is the right thing to do. 

Beauty is more than an aesthetic. 

“Beauty is the welcoming openness of the truth towards us.” Ibin Arabi. 

It is welcoming and surprising. This morning I saw a dove flying eastward over my garage and the way the sun hit it made me pause and smile. 

I think silence and quietness is necessary to appreciate beauty. 

Beauty is for all. Democratic. Free. Available to all. It fits the moment. 

When I need to ask what matters here— 

I follow that up with “Do the beautiful.” 

Beauty is mortal. 

Poignant. 

I was just on a walk. It’s a windy day and I saw these Monarch Butterflies with wings outstretched just soaring along over the dirt road. Making little corrections by dipping their wings. It’s amazing that life on this planet developed flight. It was a beautiful response to a necessity. Some kind of desire went one way and slowly nature responded. 

Do the beautiful. 

Man I don’t want this to turn into one of those sites a person goes to and it’s like an old tomb. Sorry I haven’t been keeping this updated! 

I’ve had this compulsion to write since — I don’t know when. The mid 90’s for sure. I’ve kept journals and notebooks. I’ve got files of poems, essays, thoughts, stories going back that far. I even tried to write two novels. 

I love to read so  I suppose it's only natural that I would want to write. Mostly my writing has been for my own benefit—journaling. Not anything for public consumption. I rarely work on poetry. I write it but I rarely move that initial first draft on to something more concise — or edited into something—coherent I guess? 

So of course you probably know that I am a bit of a songwriter. I’ve written a lot of songs. A lot of them are pretty cringe — some are decent if I may say so. All of them are mine. They are my own vehicles of self expression or responses to some emotion or something happening. Sometimes they are experimental. Sometimes they are bland. Distilled. Sometimes verbose. Sometimes bluesy, folky, sad, humorous, ironic. 

I write a lot. I might write too much. I have years of notebooks laying around full of ideas. Starts. Scraps. Fragments. Suggestions. Yet it seems like I never want to go back and mine these things. I want something to spring forth here and now. New and Fresh. 

I’m not really a good writer either. I write how I think. Which is disjointed, haphazard, with a tendency to sidebar, and go off on tangents that dead end or roundabout endlessly until the theme or idea runs out of gas. Well I’m a great writer in that I’m writing all the time. I’m contradictory. I can write. I just don’t take the time to edit well. Unless it's a song. Then I distill until there might be nothing left. 

I’m productively unproductive but then somehow I get something done. Unproductive in that I sometimes can sow and plant—but sometimes I let the harvest pass me by. 

This might be normal in the way of creativity. But sometimes when I look back over my work it seems like it's a wide sea, but shallow. Who knows though, since I rarely venture out there to test the depths? In those times I have, I have seen the nuggets of possibility. Forgotten ideas that could have gone somewhere if life didn’t pull me in a different way. 

One can not look back and wish it was any different than the way it was. Sometimes it's funny to see how it all worked out in the end, even when at the time I didn’t think it would. Heartache. Longing. Oh yeah, missed opportunities—I’ve had a few!  

ps 

You can tell I don’t use the ai gizmos to write eh? 
 

My people. 

I have been working and busy. 

I am finishing the album. It is very close. 

I am playing gigs. 

I am writing some new songs, and I am also digging back in the archives and finding old songs that need to be finished. The bridges!

It’s funny that 95% of a song can come together quickly but there’s 5% that remains difficult to smooth out. For me it’s usually a bridge or a bit of the chorus. I don’t have issues with music really. That comes easy. (Though I could work on getting better at melodies…)The lyrics though… Oi. Finding something to say is hard enough. Trying to say it in a song? That’s work. I just can’t be happy with filler. I know I’ve let many a-song go with “filler” or a bad/poor/vague/placeholder/ lyric. They still bug me.  

But then I am blessed with one or two that come along easily. 

“To articulate sweet sounds together is to work…” WB Yeats. 

I’ve been poking away at prepwork for the In The Pines Project. That’s really exciting. I have some training to do before I start. I would like to start doing the interviews ASAP, but everyday people, everyday there is something I need to do. I am busy! 

I did have a weekend off. It was July 11th and 12th when it was hot and sunny. I hardly did any music at all. I just worked outside. Enjoying the sun and beauty of the blue sky. I cleaned our porch and did recycling. I wrote a ton in my journal. Pen and paper. That’s the way to go. 

Wyatt and I took a trip down the Kettle River last week on July 9th, and visited Rock Dam. One of my favorite places. That was a fun and beautiful day. No bugs. Not too hot. It was sunny though and I got a sun burn on my legs! That’s ok, I was a bit self conscious about my Yeti legs being bare in the summer light blinding the world. 

Over the 4th I had some great gigs. Well, stepping back to the week before the 4th, I got to play with the BroadFork Stringband at Brickfield Brewing. That was the best gig of the year! We did really good together. They did a great job on my originals. 

So, I did some folksinger songwriter gigs over the 4th holiday weekend. On the 2nd for Mora Music in the Park — there was a great turn out. On the 3rd at the Banger in the Hanger in Holyoak I did a set and got to play with Boss Mama, Lee Martin, and Jacob Mohn. On the 4th I played up at Arrowhead Lodge and had a great crowd there! 

I’ve been reading (rereading) The Song of Ice and Fire (listening to the audio books.) Reading Shataram, a rambling book of ceaseless adventure in 1980’s Bombay India. It's good writing though exhausting at times. I’ve been listening to The Mountain Goats. That guy can really write some narrative songs! He reminds me of Lowden Wainwright III—not so much in his literary style but in his conversational delivery. 

Ok until later. 

I have been busy this month! 

So did I tell you in May I went up to Sparta Sound and recorded the next album? 

That went good! 

So I've had a lot of gigs since then, and I worked on getting the overdubs done. 

That on top of working everyday. 

It's been crazy. I played 2 concerts. Played 13 gigs. Leading music at 5 church services . 10 jams. Attended 5 shows. Rehearsed 2 times with different groups for future shows. Had 4 recording sessions. Started writing at least 5 new songs. Learned 2 new fiddle tunes. Learning 1 Paul Simon song (Finally!) Drove my kid to dance and work. Worked full time. Read 2 books. Wrote some poems. Recorded one video. MC'd one concert. 

I probably did more—this is all off the top of my head. 

I wake up every day feeling very blessed that I have this family. I have this beautiful space to live in. I get to play music. I am full of gratitude. There is so much I want to do! 

Anyway next month I am going to start working on Songs and Stories From the Pines. That’s a whole different ball game. I am excited to start that project and start sharing content. There’s a bit of a learning curve. July is going to be lighter in terms of playing so I will have time to focus on learning more about video editing.

Patience. That’s what I need more of. 

I hope everything is going good for you. Thanks for reading this far. 

here’s photographic evidence of the continuing jamming of the Kettle River Trio
 

I’m briefly featured in this video! 😎

Swing out to Sapsucker farm sometime. I play there the 3rd Friday of every month April-October.

Do I wander the streets with a mad gleam in my eye
Do I have a tension in my jaw and a clenched fist 
As if something were on my mind
Do I gaze afar as if in a black revery of grand imagining 
As if there was something – or somethings – I need to do and wherever I am at – in a bar, at a cafe, at a gig, at a show – I can't help but feel the weight of those duties upon my mind?
 
Well below is a break down of all the projects I have currently stewing in my mind. So now you know. 

I would really like to see some of these out there. This is the culmination of years of staking up song and they are still being shuffled around. After GMMN is done in the can, I will pick one and start working on it. Let me know if you want to help! Playing. Editing. Sampling. Producing. Shaking down. Building Up. Arranging. I want to collaborate! 

My Projects as of May 2026

Book Of Joy EP Recorded and ready to be released! 
Dancing in Babylon
Time Of Depression 
You Took Me to Your Temple
Till the Sun is High
Book of Joy
4 mary

Dharma Shoes
Dharma Shoes
Stardust
There's A Harmony
Heavenly
Forgivness
Waiting On You
The River
Listen to My Heart
Heart Be Your Guide

Nov2020 EP
Only you 
Walk Through Fire
I Will Be
For the Last Time
Like a Storm
Big Bably Child

True Songs
Lonely American 
Set Fire To Your Love
Wasting Time
Oh Lady of Mine
Looking For My Poor Heart
Make a Better World
Turn Your Head
Little Talk with Alcohol
Leaf in the Breeze
St.Martins Street 
Dance With Your Sweet Heart
My My My Hey Hey Hey 
Grains of Sand
I Need You Now

Gospel Originals Working on 
Jesus Turned the Water Into Wine
Mothers Arms 
Oh Fathers Come 
Transfiguration Mountian

Small Town Small Time
Small Town Small Time
Goodbye GoodBye
Don't Be Lonesome Tonight
There'll Be a Time (Let it Pass By)
Some Day Never Came
Harvest Prayer
Northwoods Nobody
Farms Are Gone
Fly Over Country 
Quarry City Blues
No Refrain
First Train Ride

New Ballads / Strange Folk
Barn Fell Down
Riding the Rails 
Up and Down
Roll On
February
Superior Song
Long Road
I'm a Long Way From You Ma
Dance With Your Sweet Heart
Dry Bones
Essay on our dark soul

Strange Folk / New Ballads
So it Goes
How Can A Man 
Magdalene / Malchus
Cliff Dweller on Lake Superior
Bad Sunrise Blues
From a long Black train
Piano
You can hold on to me
Changes
Long Black Train

First One * This would've been by first album if I would've put it out.  
You Move in Me
Warm Summer Love
Lamentations
Sweet Thing
So Kind To Me
True Pain

Folksongs
Diamond Joe
Buffalo Skinners
Maid on the Shore
The Fox
Sitting on Top of the World
Two Sisters
Shenandoah 
Mother Earth 
Ain't Got No Home

Good Morning Midnight On Deck! 
Warm Summer Love
Good Morning Midnight
Dance Every Day
Steal My Darkness
Drifting Away
Free as the Wind
Getting By
Old n Gray
Here Comes the Storm 
 

Practicing all day for the new album and then hitting the town for a gig. Playing my songs and whatever occurs to me in the course of two hours— also taking requests…a Neil Young  song? A John Prine song? “That Minneapolis steam tractor song?” “Dance Everyday” “Steal My Darkness” “Warm Summer Love”
Can do!  

 

Got the pleasure of watching/recording and hanging out the Corey Medina on 4/19.

The Blue is a Balm for the soul. 

We’ve had a tough week in our community with the loss of a great wonderful person. A person who brought dancing, joy, and light to all who knew her. Her life was a gift—and her dying was too because she confronted it with amazing grace and dignity—wonderful humor love and memories— Ona Hansen you will be missed so much!

 So we got to listen to the Blues yesterday, and the pain in our hearts is a little bit lighter today. 

Thanks Corey for bringing it to us. 

Last night, I got up at midnight and checked out the window to see if Wyatt had come home. I saw that his car was parked in the driveway, but the dome light was on. I went to his room and knocked to see if he was in there, and to let him know. He was, and I could tell he was tired and sleepy. I told him that he dome light was on. The what? He asked. The dome light in your car, I'll go shut it off…

So down I went, slipped into some shoes. I was dressed in PJ's and a T-shirt. The night was warm. I looked up like I always do whenever I go outside. I always do. I am not sure why. I learned it early--looking up and acknowledging that I am on a tiny planet in space. I accept what I see, be it blue sky, cloud or darkness and stars. 

Because my eyes were well adjusted the stars were bright and I could see more than I've seen in a long time. I always look for movement up there. Something obviously traveling against the apparent stillness though I know it's all moving up there in their own courses through the cosmos and the Earth I am standing on is moving too. When I was a kid I used to lay out in the yard and look up at the night sky and I would lay there so long I would notice the movement of the stars against the tops of trees. Back then I thought the sky was turning above us.  

Last night there were frogs singing! Not many. A couple hundred. Not filling the air yet with that Wall of Nocturnal Sound. It was more like a warm up. A few restless frogs had to see how it felt to start chirping and creeking away. It was a rehearsal. I stood there listening to the frogs and looking up in dumb wonder at the starlight (and marked Jupiter to the east.) 

What a gift to be here and noticing this, I thought. I shut off the dome light and walked slowly back to the house and back to bed, but I couldn't get to sleep. 

The spring night air stirred something in me and it was several hours before I was able to fall to sleep. The frogs were up! They had slept a long time—all winter. Frogs are amazing. I thought about them hunkered down in a hole in the earth below the frost line all winter. I thought of how they change—go from an egg to a tadpole—what do they eat down there in the mucky shallows of the swamp? The metamorphosis. From that aquatic swimming comma to the fascinating squat thing we hear preaching on a cool spring night. I thought of the stories about princes becoming frogs—maybe that was a character improvement for those arrogant privileged rich boys to live as a frog? I thought, every man is a toad or a frog at some point. Most stay there until they find that lady to kiss them and turn them into prince—but that sometimes takes awhile. I thought about all those individual frog voices out there in the night trilling and vibrating and how I didn’t know what kind of frogs they were: tree frogs, green frogs, spring peepers?—should I get a book of frogs and go out at night and meet my neighbors? 

In the house I couldn’t hear them anymore. I thought about opening up a window to let the night air and all of its stars and sounds into my room and into my head and maybe help me sleep. 

Easter Sunday 2026 — played 3 hymns for the sunrise service at a small country church.

Jesus Christ is Risen Today

I Love to Tell the Story

Thine is the Glory