Welcome to LaurenceSugarman.com. This site represents two passions: traditional music and mind-body medicine. I am both a long-time old-time banjoist and a general pediatrician. I push the frontiers of both of these occupations.

As a musician schooled in traditional American banjo styles, I enjoy rendering traditional music with new twists and composing new music with traditional ties. I enjoy performing and teaching workshops about traditional banjo styles. Please check out Old Magic and Space, eclectic albums of banjo music and songs. My quartet, Abe’s Lily, has a new CD, new traditional music.

As a doctor who spends my days with children, adolescents and their families, I integrate psychotherapy and mind-body therapies into all my work. I run a very integrative general practice in which hypnosis, biofeedback, and psychotherapy balance out prescriptions and procedures. Children learn how to invest in the therapeutic power of their imaginations.

So, if you are intrigued by music, poetry, healing, hypnosis, imagination, or are simply enjoying the moment, travel around in this site to hear some of my music, learn about professional education in hypnosis, buy a CD, order a video documentary, participate in a workshop or arrange a concert. Thank you for coming.

The Banjo
Robert Winner

There is some demon turning me into an old man,
Living like a tapeworm in my gut
Turning me into a snowman,
Of cleaned-up Fingernails and shaving cream,
While somewhere in the life I forgot to live
An old rapscallion banjo sleeps with dust.

I’d like to take that banjo to my job
And sit-cross legged, strum and strum
And wake those rigid people into dancing.
Those white men so white their smiles are like water.
Those camouflaged men who cruise
Around each other like soft battle ships.

I’d like them to remember their bare feet,
The bite of dust and sun down country roads,
The face they forgot to desire,
Now carved and wrinkled as a peach pit.

There is some other game for me.
Another reality could walk in anytime, and become boss,
Shouting: Dance! Dance! Dance!
Dance through the partitions!
Dance through the stairwells, envelopes, telephones!

It’s hard to know which life is sleep
Or where the door is with my name on it.