My brother and I have always had a profound camaraderie; a closeness that is rather inexplicable considering we’re twelve years apart in age and my memories of him during my youth are spotty at best. We both have trouble accepting the “norm” (although he tells me I cope much better than he does), we’ve both got deep wells of emotional life that we don’t mind sharing with others and we’re both incredibly desirous of true connections with people.

I have always loved my brother undeniably; even when I’ve been desperately irritated with him or terribly hurt by him, my love for him is unwavering.

My big brother has always been a musician. His music tastes have evolved and changed over the years, but his love for music has always been deep. When I was about three years old (or four?) my brother was heavy into Punk Rock. He was in a band that practiced downstairs in our “outside room”, which was really an enclosed porch. This photo is a little early on and I’m not sure if it’s the same band, but there he is in yellow, my brother, the lead singer/guitarist practicing in the “outside room”. This space was always fascinating to me because it was filled with his stuff: microphone stands spray painted with red letters, speakers and other “80’s punk teenage boy stuff”. (Then later, when my brother was in art school, this room held awesomely cool colored pens, which I would sneak in a use from time to time: ooh I would’ve been in so much trouble if he had caught me). My brother and I recorded our first, and only, track together around this time. No joke. Here’s how to hear it now:

Go to iTunes: Enter “Intensified Chaos” in the search box: Take a listen to the only sample song that comes up

My voice, in all it’s tiny-girl innocence, is the first thing you hear and then I go on to repeat the line “punk’s not dead, no it’s not” several times before my brother’s voice comes screaming over the heavy electric guitar.

I believe that this recording marks the beginning of our crazy-rad friendship.

And so, thank you to my other awesome older brother (I’m lucky, I have two) for pointing this out and reminding me of this hilarious and sweet memory.

My brother, also know as dj Sunshine Jones, continues to write beautiful house music and is a celebrated recording artist. I’ve been dying to share some of his newest tracks and right now seems like the right time. He publishes his current work at Treehouse Muzique where you can listen for free and download the songs for peanuts. I especially love his remixes of “Only You” and “You Sexy Thing”, but I adore his original house tracks such as “This Love”. Go there and listen. You can purchase any of the tracks, upload into iTunes and listen on your iPod. That’s what I do…and here’s how you can too:

First, click right here for Treehouse Muzique. Then press the little play buttons and the whole song will play for you.

So, my brother has gone from punk’s not dead to wake up and make love to me, but his passion, creativity, beauty and love remain the same…

I remember waking up in the night and being terrified that a dragon of sorts was going to come through the downstairs door and get me. This dream was recurring…

My bedroom was on the downstairs floor of our home and I was the only person who slept down there ever since my brother moved out from the room next to mine. The first time I had this dream I woke up crying and paralyzed with fear in my belief that the green dragon was going to crash through the walls at any moment. I don’t know if I screamed. I don’t remember if my parents came to me that night. I was quite small, perhaps 6 or 7.

Eventually, these images became a daydream as well. I used to take the bus to school and would get dropped off at the bottom of the hill. I would then walk up the steep hill to our driveway, which for a young girl was a long hike upward. Shortly after the green dragon appeared in my dreams this hike became rather traumatic for me. I remember sitting at the bottom of the hill one afternoon and bawling my eyes out because I thought that if I walked up the long hill that the green dragon would eat me along the way. So I sat. I sat at the bottom of the hill crying and hoping that Mom or Dad might arrive to give me a ride up the hill. Instead a lady in a station wagon stopped and asked, “Are you Katie?”. Through my tears, I shook my head no. She simply said, “Oh. Ok.” and drove away, leaving me there to work it out on my own.

I finally gathered some courage and literally ran up the hill ~ and this was a long way, even for an adult. I remember it feeling like I was running past a never-ending, skinny, scaley, green, reptilian-like neck. I got hot and a little sweaty from the weight of my backpack pounding on my shoulders. Then, when I reached the place where I imagined the dragon’s head might be, I let out a continual, ear-piercing scream until I reached our mailbox and past the big, imagined nostrils.

I remember that this dragon had enough heads to fill every driveway in Orinda. I remember standing in front of the refrigerator and thinking that I saw news helicopters reporting about the situation and police helicopters fighting the battle unsuccessfully from above.

And the next thing I remember is that my bedroom was moved upstairs next to my parents’ room until I was 14.

This has stayed with me for all of these years and I have always, always wondered what that was all about. What was frightening me so much that I turned it into a big, green dragon nightmare. Or in my case a day/nightmare…