Copyright © 2009 All still images and music are the property of Kathleen Barich Videos are from YouTube
Love Bird Creations
I was born in Ruanda-Urundi, Africa, and spent much of my childhood there. Now Rwanda and Burundi, located in the heart of Africa, are written on the pages of my heart and expressed through my art.
The journey of my life as an artist has been shaped and informed by many beloved friends, mentors and teachers. I cannot tell my story without paying tribute to the ones who have
helped me get to this point in my life.
I must begin with my mother and father, both artists who deserve more than a brief tribute here. There will be much more to come in my writing projects, but for now, I thank them from the bottom of my heart for giving me a childhood in Burundi, exposure to so much of the world and providing me with more tools than I yet know how to use: piano lessons, guitar lessons, art lessons, violin lessons, voice lessons and inspiration as they came forth in their own lives as artists. They continue to inspire me and their spirits infuse every piece of my work as an artist.
Tom Barich has been my loving husband. He has been my dearest friend and companion. I cannot begin to describe what he has given to me through the years. He has been there through thick and thin, believing in me and cheering me on. He has supported me in every artistic endeavor whether it be acting, writing, music or dance, a faithful guide and encourager.
I am forever grateful, my love.
Eric Morris came into my life on one of the most pivotal days of my life 32 years ago and began the journey with me as a faithful mentor, friend and acting teacher extraordinaire. I would not be where I am as an artist without his loving guidance through the years. His wife, Susanna, became a part of the journey as well, giving me her deep love and intuitive wisdom.
Words cannot adequately express my love for them.
Herb Gravitz has been my counselor, friend and greatest champion of my work. Encouraging me with undying faith in my talents as an artist, he has never given up on me. He has held a vision that has often gone beyond what I was able to see for myself as I proceeded in faith through my days, putting one foot in front of the other. Many days I have been inspired by the sound of his voice, echoing words of encouragement and healing.
Lorenzo Pryor helped me gather my songs and put them into a cohesive package, reflecting my heart through music. He had a vision for my music and helped me come forward more clearly as a singer/songwriter/musician. He and his beloved Star came around me as friends, encouraging me and loving me in ways I could not have imagined before I met them.
Allegra Huston, James Nave, Gladys Swan and Leslie Ullman continue to be an ongoing inspiration to me as a writer. They helped me to see myself as a writer and to embrace my talents
in the Writer's Salon. Meeting them in Taos and Ireland has been one of my greatest joys. What I discover with them in the Writer's Salon carries me throughout the year as I work on my daily writing projects.
I was first inspired to dance as I sat at the feet of the Watusi dancers , dancing for the king. I've been hooked ever since. My journey as a dancer took me to U.C.L.A. as a dance major, then on to study belly dancing and now, dancing to House Music. Through dance I connect with "my tribe" and meet in pure "joie de vivre" on the dance floors of L.A..
Frequently, I have been encouraged to focus on one
particular art form, but I have not been able to choose one.
So here I am a "hyphenate" as Eric once called me, a singer/songwriter/musician/painter/writer/dancer/actress.....etc....
I must give tribute to the people of Rwanda and Burundi who brought me up in the art that infuses their daily life as closely as breath itself.
Many nights I was lulled to sleep by the sound of the fishermen on Lake Kivu in Rwanda as they drummed on the side of their boats, bringing the talapia fish to the surface.
Many afternoons I would sit on the bluff overlooking the road to market, watching the men and women walk or lope down the road, balancing baskets, beehives or banana stalks on their heads while singing,laughing and dancing like no other.
The drums echoed across the valley on Sunday afternoons as the rain storms approached. This sound lives in me forever.
Then there were the women who taught me to weave baskets from the grasses of Burundi. They held me close and showed me nothing but love.