In order to have a broader reach and be able to interact better with my readers, I have made the decision to move my blog to wordpress. You can find it here: http://thesammiejjproject.wordpress.com/
Happy reading!!
Question of the day: How good are you at knowing when it's time to make a move?
Monday, September 13, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Red Eye
I still remember my first plane ride. I was five. Destination? California. Companion? My grandmother, may she rest in peace. I don't exactly recall all of the priming for our journey, but I do remember the packing and plan for wearing my favorite little blue dress. I just knew I was going on a plane way high up in the sky. And that must be a special thing because my grandmother rolled my waist-long with paper bag strips. I've never had curls quite like that since.
All went well with the flight until the pressure got to my ears. I whimpered, cried, then screamed at the top of my lungs. Flight attendants tried to instruct me on how to ease the discomfort, my grandmother, quite embarrassed I'm sure, tried to rock and console me. I was beyond consoling. It was crisis in mid-air. The only good thing about my agony was landing about 10 minutes later.
Some 25 five years later, I attempted to get my only chance at a night's sleep unfazed by ear pressure, dreaming about whales and sunsets...
Question of the day: Do you remember your first place ride?
All went well with the flight until the pressure got to my ears. I whimpered, cried, then screamed at the top of my lungs. Flight attendants tried to instruct me on how to ease the discomfort, my grandmother, quite embarrassed I'm sure, tried to rock and console me. I was beyond consoling. It was crisis in mid-air. The only good thing about my agony was landing about 10 minutes later.
Some 25 five years later, I attempted to get my only chance at a night's sleep unfazed by ear pressure, dreaming about whales and sunsets...
Question of the day: Do you remember your first place ride?
Monday, September 6, 2010
Greek Whale Watching
Last night after the curtain closed on sunset, I grabbed some seafood for dinner, lobster risotto precisely, and retreated to Monterey in search of a hotel that didn't read "no" in front or in back of "vacancy." Too tired to continue my ritual Hotwire/Priceline analysis, on top of shoddy internet connection, a hacienda-like beauty caught my eye. Hotel Abrego it was. Although astronomical in price, the desk attendant got me with "fireplace" and the credit card was all of swiped once I took a tour of my would-be lux room. It did have a fireplace, a king sized bed, a huge walk-in shower, a general homey atmosphere. I could literally have lived there, had money been no object...
I didn't want to leave my beautiful room this morning. At 11:35am (checkout was at 12 noon) I was still vacillating over where or not to ask for late check out so I could sleep more, maybe actually turn on the massive swiveling flatscreen, and take like six more showers. But I decided that Monterey was waiting for me, this whole new stretch of territory I'd never been to before. No matter how beautiful four walls and a slate-tiled shower were, there was nothing about sleep, tv, and bathing that hadn't happened to me before. The sun was shining in rare Bay Area form and with each zip of luggage, I felt the promise of good things straight ahead.
As I drove randomly about, it wasn't long before I reached my first and what turned out to be final destination. Ooooo, a Greek Festival!! I've always wanted to go to a Greek Festival!! Greek people and their food are da bomb hizzle!!!! A short distance parking place greeted me and off I went to seek out all things Greek!! The jewelery tables caught me first and I made a modest purchase. A divalicious bracelet. Nothing real Greek looking but divatastic nonetheless. I had intentions of going back to buy a sterling silver ring or too. Wanted to get around to all the vendors, settle on some Grecian grub, then wiled more money on a full stomach. It never happened.
What good fortune awaited me, though!! I was making my way around the festival and lo, Fisherman's Wharf!!!! Talk about good tidings of great joy, a bag of chips AND a soda on the side! Woohoo!!! I was finally at the place Monterey postcards and travel specials were made of. It was no Pier 39, mind you, but there was clam chowder and more seafood than one craving could take!!! I kept on walking and lo, another sign!!! Whale Watching: Next departure 1:30. It was 12:45. Just doesn't get any better than that! Deciding to risk my rental car return deadline, I handed over $40 and ran to get a jacket and sunscreen. A swift peruse back through the Greek festival and a gyro later, I was all aboard!!
First up? Sea otters and sea lions. So cute. Wanted to take one home. Choppy, choppy waters made many sea sick. Thank God I was able to keep my $6 gyro down... Next! Dolphins jumping and flipping around...some....WHALES!!!! A HUGE (like, duh) humpback, then another!!! Such impressive and graceful animals, spouting out water and mucus ever so...so spoutingly!! Our "tour guide" was so knowledgeable, spouting herself about all kinds of whale facts, narrating over every stretch of sea. And then, the blue whales. A momma and baby followed by another one who gave us a rare show. Fluke!!! Twice!!!! Yeah, before today, I didn't really know what that was by name either. It's WHALE TAIL!!!!!! You know, like in the national geographic or discovery channel, how the tail flips up and then sinks down into the ocean. Our guide said that's something rare to catch once, let alone twice in the same setting!!! Said we could go 5-6 years before ever seeing that again... Lastly, more dolphins. I mean like hundreds. Oh, and I thought those bad boys were showin' out before! HA!!! I hadn't seen nothin! As the boat picked up momentum, here they come alongside, sending us back in full marine style. The flipping was higher, had to have been some triple luxe going on. The jumping was farther, the wonderment was sweeter. There had to have been 8 different languages represented amongst my fellow passengers and I heard "Oooo look!!" in every one...Here's to the things of life that bring people together, that remind us that the common thread between us is not singular at all.
Question(s) of the day: What kind of traveler are you? Have you ever had an "accidental" vacation? What are some things you've learned through your experiences away? Where would you like to go? What's stopping you? No, what's REALLY stopping you?
I didn't want to leave my beautiful room this morning. At 11:35am (checkout was at 12 noon) I was still vacillating over where or not to ask for late check out so I could sleep more, maybe actually turn on the massive swiveling flatscreen, and take like six more showers. But I decided that Monterey was waiting for me, this whole new stretch of territory I'd never been to before. No matter how beautiful four walls and a slate-tiled shower were, there was nothing about sleep, tv, and bathing that hadn't happened to me before. The sun was shining in rare Bay Area form and with each zip of luggage, I felt the promise of good things straight ahead.
As I drove randomly about, it wasn't long before I reached my first and what turned out to be final destination. Ooooo, a Greek Festival!! I've always wanted to go to a Greek Festival!! Greek people and their food are da bomb hizzle!!!! A short distance parking place greeted me and off I went to seek out all things Greek!! The jewelery tables caught me first and I made a modest purchase. A divalicious bracelet. Nothing real Greek looking but divatastic nonetheless. I had intentions of going back to buy a sterling silver ring or too. Wanted to get around to all the vendors, settle on some Grecian grub, then wiled more money on a full stomach. It never happened.
What good fortune awaited me, though!! I was making my way around the festival and lo, Fisherman's Wharf!!!! Talk about good tidings of great joy, a bag of chips AND a soda on the side! Woohoo!!! I was finally at the place Monterey postcards and travel specials were made of. It was no Pier 39, mind you, but there was clam chowder and more seafood than one craving could take!!! I kept on walking and lo, another sign!!! Whale Watching: Next departure 1:30. It was 12:45. Just doesn't get any better than that! Deciding to risk my rental car return deadline, I handed over $40 and ran to get a jacket and sunscreen. A swift peruse back through the Greek festival and a gyro later, I was all aboard!!
First up? Sea otters and sea lions. So cute. Wanted to take one home. Choppy, choppy waters made many sea sick. Thank God I was able to keep my $6 gyro down... Next! Dolphins jumping and flipping around...some....WHALES!!!! A HUGE (like, duh) humpback, then another!!! Such impressive and graceful animals, spouting out water and mucus ever so...so spoutingly!! Our "tour guide" was so knowledgeable, spouting herself about all kinds of whale facts, narrating over every stretch of sea. And then, the blue whales. A momma and baby followed by another one who gave us a rare show. Fluke!!! Twice!!!! Yeah, before today, I didn't really know what that was by name either. It's WHALE TAIL!!!!!! You know, like in the national geographic or discovery channel, how the tail flips up and then sinks down into the ocean. Our guide said that's something rare to catch once, let alone twice in the same setting!!! Said we could go 5-6 years before ever seeing that again... Lastly, more dolphins. I mean like hundreds. Oh, and I thought those bad boys were showin' out before! HA!!! I hadn't seen nothin! As the boat picked up momentum, here they come alongside, sending us back in full marine style. The flipping was higher, had to have been some triple luxe going on. The jumping was farther, the wonderment was sweeter. There had to have been 8 different languages represented amongst my fellow passengers and I heard "Oooo look!!" in every one...Here's to the things of life that bring people together, that remind us that the common thread between us is not singular at all.
Question(s) of the day: What kind of traveler are you? Have you ever had an "accidental" vacation? What are some things you've learned through your experiences away? Where would you like to go? What's stopping you? No, what's REALLY stopping you?
Sunday, September 5, 2010
The Lesson
I was glad that the alarm didn't have to wake me up. I'm in California. Of course it doesn't!! Every time I'm here, that's the first thought that comes to my mind. It's a sort of brush with unbelievable reality. Like waking up next to that special someone. The warmth and all the love you feel and share. And although for me there wasn't warm love of an actual body, but an atmosphere. New air and space. Waking up in California. It never disappoints...
I still felt tenuous about the lesson. Hadn't really practiced, didn't have all the right music, wasn't really looking forward to the "big" confrontation with my teacher over wanting to venture on to a young artist program. At the same time, I was willing to face all of it, knowing that all would be well and I'd have a clearer outlook afterwards. It was going to be okay. The morning was so easy. The Continental breakfast, complete with my favorite fancy flavored tea, spice chai pomegranate I think, was good. My hair fell into place. My favorite dress was barely wrinkled from the suitcase. My makeup was subtle, glowing, and even hid the previous days of worry and lack of sleep.
I arrived to my teacher's house in Fresno with time to spare. The drive had been thoughtful. Cruise controlled nearly the whole way. But as I walked up to the door and rang, an awkwardness began to set in. My mind wasn't clear. I felt tossed and disconnected. Numb. My outward composed self suddenly mismatched the inside.
We started with talking as we always do. She mentioned the y.a. program issue. I listened, then mildly expressed my view of things. She tried to refrain from making a forceful opinion, but her opinion was made no less. I combated with a diplomatic display of knowledge. She slightly conceded. I was glad she knew not to push any further. I changed, or rather progressed, to a different area of focus. My current dependence on a day job and how (although a huge blessing to my life) it's robbing me of precious singing and time. And here's where she completely surprised me. She suggested that I start my own business to take with me anywhere I needed/wanted to be. A non-profit she said. I told her I'd thought about it.
The truth is, I had thought about it. I'd even started (or attempted to) one some years back. I have ideas and much more experience to execute it now. Back then it was just a fun mission. Now, there's much more to gain, better motives behind it all. It could maybe work this time. After the talking came singing. Come scoglio from "Cosi fan tutte," Mozart. Next, Suicidio from "La Gioconda." Last, Ebben? Ne andro lontana from "La Wally," I felt like I sounded really good, like my voice wasn't so uncertain. I could craft it better. My breathing was better. I responded to her correction better. The first audition will test me.
I left the lesson feeling satisfied and the thought that I had 32 more hours to enjoy my California solidified it. Where would I go? Ah yes, Carmel. I accidentally arrived at sunset not fully aware of why so many people were simply standing around with cameras. I mean, the water was gorgeous, the sand a pale clean beige, but I just thought the holiday brought on the hearty audience. I'd never really been to a chilly beach before, but it was yet another new and nice thing. I didn't even grimace as the near icy high tides chased and caught my wanting feet, occasionally gushing up my legs in cool surprises. Toddlers ran after panting doggies, couples snuggled a little closer, families toasted togetherness. I was one of the few alone on the beach. I felt it, but once the last lip of orange dipped down into the horizon I was in the certain company of applause that broke out all around. New, nice. Bravo sun, bravo...
Question of the day: Is where you're living the right atmosphere for your best self?
I still felt tenuous about the lesson. Hadn't really practiced, didn't have all the right music, wasn't really looking forward to the "big" confrontation with my teacher over wanting to venture on to a young artist program. At the same time, I was willing to face all of it, knowing that all would be well and I'd have a clearer outlook afterwards. It was going to be okay. The morning was so easy. The Continental breakfast, complete with my favorite fancy flavored tea, spice chai pomegranate I think, was good. My hair fell into place. My favorite dress was barely wrinkled from the suitcase. My makeup was subtle, glowing, and even hid the previous days of worry and lack of sleep.
I arrived to my teacher's house in Fresno with time to spare. The drive had been thoughtful. Cruise controlled nearly the whole way. But as I walked up to the door and rang, an awkwardness began to set in. My mind wasn't clear. I felt tossed and disconnected. Numb. My outward composed self suddenly mismatched the inside.
We started with talking as we always do. She mentioned the y.a. program issue. I listened, then mildly expressed my view of things. She tried to refrain from making a forceful opinion, but her opinion was made no less. I combated with a diplomatic display of knowledge. She slightly conceded. I was glad she knew not to push any further. I changed, or rather progressed, to a different area of focus. My current dependence on a day job and how (although a huge blessing to my life) it's robbing me of precious singing and time. And here's where she completely surprised me. She suggested that I start my own business to take with me anywhere I needed/wanted to be. A non-profit she said. I told her I'd thought about it.
The truth is, I had thought about it. I'd even started (or attempted to) one some years back. I have ideas and much more experience to execute it now. Back then it was just a fun mission. Now, there's much more to gain, better motives behind it all. It could maybe work this time. After the talking came singing. Come scoglio from "Cosi fan tutte," Mozart. Next, Suicidio from "La Gioconda." Last, Ebben? Ne andro lontana from "La Wally," I felt like I sounded really good, like my voice wasn't so uncertain. I could craft it better. My breathing was better. I responded to her correction better. The first audition will test me.
I left the lesson feeling satisfied and the thought that I had 32 more hours to enjoy my California solidified it. Where would I go? Ah yes, Carmel. I accidentally arrived at sunset not fully aware of why so many people were simply standing around with cameras. I mean, the water was gorgeous, the sand a pale clean beige, but I just thought the holiday brought on the hearty audience. I'd never really been to a chilly beach before, but it was yet another new and nice thing. I didn't even grimace as the near icy high tides chased and caught my wanting feet, occasionally gushing up my legs in cool surprises. Toddlers ran after panting doggies, couples snuggled a little closer, families toasted togetherness. I was one of the few alone on the beach. I felt it, but once the last lip of orange dipped down into the horizon I was in the certain company of applause that broke out all around. New, nice. Bravo sun, bravo...
Question of the day: Is where you're living the right atmosphere for your best self?
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Under a Wandrin' Star
Contemplating nearly up to the last minute, I decided, after only 2.5 hours of sleep, to board my flight to San Francisco. I had little idea what this trip will hold, but I decided that I need it, that somehow it will be more good than bad for me.
First stop, after a long, and I mean hazardous to my health long, drawn out car rental process, (hence the reason to NOT travel during a holiday) I retreated to Oakland. I had little time to transition from travel maven to theatre goer which included full grooming, hair, makeup, and even ripping the tag off a new sweater. "Paint your Wagon" was the show, a chilly bay area ampitheatre was the venue, a beloved friend was a lead. I really didn't know what I was in for when going because to be very honest, I had never heard of Paint Your Wagon!! I figured it was going to be in plot and music much how it sounded in title. I was right.
Overall, the show was a fun, well-executed, crowd pleaser. The highlight, my friend's darling rendititon of "They Call the Wind Mariah." I had heard and even sunch this song myself some years back in a musical theatre review, but thought it was a Jerry Herman masterpiece, not Lerner and Lowe. But that's what great art is supposed to do. Teach and reteach. I dig it.
Another highlight and I believe theme to my life was the song and reprise, "I was Born Under a Wandrin' Star." There was one time in my life when I wanted the education, the job, the husband, the house, the kids, the retirement. But the older I get, I realize that most of that is not for me. No time soon, anyway. Education? Well, I managed to (finally) get most of that. Sure do wish, for no other reason than having one, that I had a graduate degree in me. HA!! Never in this life will you get me into another classroom. I am truly the world's WORST student. On most days I'm pretty smart and I do love learning, though...hmph... The job? I actually have managed to make that one happen, but I know this day job thing can't hold me for too long. No complaints, but paradoxically, I'm shooting for the gig to gig existence The husband? Been there, done that. And unless there is some paragon of male species that is being manufactured somewhere, don't think I'll be going there. I am a little bit in love, though... The house? Ha!! Talk about a ball and chain!!! I have a hard enough time keeping a 12 month lease before I'm itching to move somewhere else! Not interested! The kids? Too selfish. Maybe I'm being a bit hard on myself and am not bestowing credit for my (now heavily veiled) motherly instincts as evidenced by my several years of very skillful childcare. Maybe it's the fact that while married I wanted children so badly but he wasn't the one and I'm not trying to be disappointed about it anymore...let's just stick with selfish. It's easier... The retirement? If I'm working for passion, who needs to retire? The truth is, most musicians are too poor to do so anyway. Again, it's all about the passion!! You know, I'm growing much more content this way. Fewer expectations, more opportunities to enjoy life's surprises I guess...
My mother said that it was wonderful that I made it to California. I think so too. It's time to do some sighing and gazing at where my wandrin' star will take me next. And how bad can that be?
Question of the day: When weighing your options in a given situation, which most often tips the scale? The positive or the negative?
First stop, after a long, and I mean hazardous to my health long, drawn out car rental process, (hence the reason to NOT travel during a holiday) I retreated to Oakland. I had little time to transition from travel maven to theatre goer which included full grooming, hair, makeup, and even ripping the tag off a new sweater. "Paint your Wagon" was the show, a chilly bay area ampitheatre was the venue, a beloved friend was a lead. I really didn't know what I was in for when going because to be very honest, I had never heard of Paint Your Wagon!! I figured it was going to be in plot and music much how it sounded in title. I was right.
Overall, the show was a fun, well-executed, crowd pleaser. The highlight, my friend's darling rendititon of "They Call the Wind Mariah." I had heard and even sunch this song myself some years back in a musical theatre review, but thought it was a Jerry Herman masterpiece, not Lerner and Lowe. But that's what great art is supposed to do. Teach and reteach. I dig it.
Another highlight and I believe theme to my life was the song and reprise, "I was Born Under a Wandrin' Star." There was one time in my life when I wanted the education, the job, the husband, the house, the kids, the retirement. But the older I get, I realize that most of that is not for me. No time soon, anyway. Education? Well, I managed to (finally) get most of that. Sure do wish, for no other reason than having one, that I had a graduate degree in me. HA!! Never in this life will you get me into another classroom. I am truly the world's WORST student. On most days I'm pretty smart and I do love learning, though...hmph... The job? I actually have managed to make that one happen, but I know this day job thing can't hold me for too long. No complaints, but paradoxically, I'm shooting for the gig to gig existence The husband? Been there, done that. And unless there is some paragon of male species that is being manufactured somewhere, don't think I'll be going there. I am a little bit in love, though... The house? Ha!! Talk about a ball and chain!!! I have a hard enough time keeping a 12 month lease before I'm itching to move somewhere else! Not interested! The kids? Too selfish. Maybe I'm being a bit hard on myself and am not bestowing credit for my (now heavily veiled) motherly instincts as evidenced by my several years of very skillful childcare. Maybe it's the fact that while married I wanted children so badly but he wasn't the one and I'm not trying to be disappointed about it anymore...let's just stick with selfish. It's easier... The retirement? If I'm working for passion, who needs to retire? The truth is, most musicians are too poor to do so anyway. Again, it's all about the passion!! You know, I'm growing much more content this way. Fewer expectations, more opportunities to enjoy life's surprises I guess...
My mother said that it was wonderful that I made it to California. I think so too. It's time to do some sighing and gazing at where my wandrin' star will take me next. And how bad can that be?
Question of the day: When weighing your options in a given situation, which most often tips the scale? The positive or the negative?
Friday, September 3, 2010
Heads vs. Tails
I flipped. It was heads. This is supposed to mean that I pack up tonight and go back to Nashville, sleep for like 4 hours and then drive to the airport as opposed to driving to the airport straight from Huntsville. At the minute, the San Francisco trip is on although I am utterly unprepared. I'm not packed, haven't had a chance to practice, and don't really know what my itinerary holds to a moderate extent.
I have to admit that I'm somewhat torn to leave my mother. She's on the mend and got the good clearance from the doctor, but I left her tonight knowing that underneath her urges for me to go on, that she wasn't feeling all too well. They always say that people "know" when their time is coming and I can't help but wonder or worry, rather if she "knows" something. And what would I do is she does? If I get the dreaded phone call? If I don't make it back in time? I turned and took one last look of her pleasant, but sullen face, capturing a mental picture of it just in case. For some reason, she let out a voiced and weighty sigh...
I'm trying to read my gut on this one and I've got nothin...but I will say that I do feel that not going would simply be out of fear and not a true premonition. That's why I'm still going. It's a leap of faith of sorts that all will be well though I am far away. It's sad that I have to think of these things. But then again, I'm glad I can handle it! That I'm not all faint of mind and spirit. I think that's why I don't have a love in my life. I'm too much of one person in far too many ways. Maybe I should damsel myself in distress more often. Who knows, it just might do the trick! Yeah, I wasn't quite convinced of that one either...
Well, the drier has just stopped and this is supposed to be my cue to pack up and head to Nashville. Should get there by 2am. Four hours sleep. Airport. Take off. Land in SAN FRANCISCO!!
Questions of the day: How often is fear the real reason you're at odds and on the fence?
I have to admit that I'm somewhat torn to leave my mother. She's on the mend and got the good clearance from the doctor, but I left her tonight knowing that underneath her urges for me to go on, that she wasn't feeling all too well. They always say that people "know" when their time is coming and I can't help but wonder or worry, rather if she "knows" something. And what would I do is she does? If I get the dreaded phone call? If I don't make it back in time? I turned and took one last look of her pleasant, but sullen face, capturing a mental picture of it just in case. For some reason, she let out a voiced and weighty sigh...
I'm trying to read my gut on this one and I've got nothin...but I will say that I do feel that not going would simply be out of fear and not a true premonition. That's why I'm still going. It's a leap of faith of sorts that all will be well though I am far away. It's sad that I have to think of these things. But then again, I'm glad I can handle it! That I'm not all faint of mind and spirit. I think that's why I don't have a love in my life. I'm too much of one person in far too many ways. Maybe I should damsel myself in distress more often. Who knows, it just might do the trick! Yeah, I wasn't quite convinced of that one either...
Well, the drier has just stopped and this is supposed to be my cue to pack up and head to Nashville. Should get there by 2am. Four hours sleep. Airport. Take off. Land in SAN FRANCISCO!!
Questions of the day: How often is fear the real reason you're at odds and on the fence?
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Blank Intentions...Great Outcome
It seems that my dear JP had the best intentions of writing this day in 2002, but failed to get it on the page. The date on her blog calendar is highlighted as if she wrote, but the post is blank. Hmmm...wonder what happened? At this point in her blogging/cooking journey, she had already evaluated both her progress and sanity in taking on such a project. One would think that daily French cooking and eating would lead to the most blissful of existences, but according to JP, not so. Despite what we've been told, butter isn't good for the soul either.
As much as I could have used JP's blankness as an excuse to take an off day from my blog, I decided to press through and put some words on the page. Now, don't go thinking that this would have always been my choice. I have spent years and years procrastinating and intending to do things that I never carried through to completion. Just had a converstation with my BFF about this. I called myself trying to talk her out of "I'm a bad (fill in the blank)" self criticisms. I failed. I didn't fail for lack of love or sincerity, I think it was more so because I couldn't talk her out of the reality that comes with having a pulse.
After having thought about it for a few minuites, I would have tried again and said something along these lines. For every one thing that we beat ourselves for, there are numerous beside that we should praise. Okay, so you didn't finish that scrapbook. But you did fed, clothed, and comforted your child today. You did it yesterday. And you'll do it again tomorrow and even 10 years from now. You are responsible for the laughs, health, and growth you see in them each day. There are few things in life more significant than that.
I finally got around to asking my mother if there was anything in her life that she wanted to do or change. She gave the answer I expected. Just like the rest of us, she has had a life that happened. She wanted to be an opera singer, but her first baby happened. This first baby died much too soon at 39, but she adopted her great niece, aka ME!!! Even by the time she happened to me at 7 years old, the worst of my life had pretty much happened already. Yeah, that bad. The minute she stepped inside the door to take me way down the road from Columbus to Huntsville, the worst halted in it's tracks. The new birth certificate that soon followed turned out to be symbolic just as much as legal...
I'm not a bona fide (paid) opera singer yet, but a couple weeks ago I sang for about two hours in a Tribute Concert I put on for my mother. Everyone said it was so well organized and seemless...Well, let me tell you. Behind the scenes, I was a mess. People were running around like chickens, heads attached and all, making an event planned in just a little over three weeks appear seamless. Of course, if I could do it all over again, there is soooooo much I would do differently, bigger, better... COME ON, SAMANTHA!!! ARE YOU KIDDING???? Girl, you just pulled of one of the most treasured memories of your mother's life, honored her in a way she had never been before, gathered (literally) hundreds of people, and raised a sweet hunk o' money for the American Cancer Society!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, and not to mention, pulled off my first independent concert even surprising myself that I was capable of such a feat! Why has it taken so long to step out of the should have's and give myself this pat on the back?? But you know what? Set this large gesture aside. Actually, take it out of the equation completely.
All my life, I've smiled at people. I've looked them in the eyes and smiled. When I taught preschool, there was a little boy whose finger and toe nails I cleaned by putting a baby wipe over the rounded end of a paper clip just about every day. One year for Christmas I made memory boxes as gifts for friends and family. I love giving big hugs like I mean it!!
Look, we can focus on the 20 or the 80...it's a choice we make with each and every thought we have about self correction. Do you know how many times I thought about blogging before I first did it? How many times I had profound thoughts that I never wrote down even after I did start? But here's the right question. Why did I begin again? No, not because I watched a movie four times in one day and connected. That was only the impetice. I'd seen that movie at least ten other times.
I began again because I found the right reason to do so and that reason FINALLY incited a purpose. Cancer is awful. It's slowly taking my mother away from me. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't have a purpose. Having a day job (a wonderful one, I'll add) when you want to really be spending your entire day singing is mayo mayo crumage. Life happens. What good is it to miss the endless collisions with purpose because you dwell more in your minor defeat rather than mega triumphs? You are the best mom, daughter, singer, friend, etc. most will ever know. Sure, we don't get it right, but only 20% of the time...CELEBRATE THE 80!!
Julie's intentions to post 8 years ago today went blank, but what a great outcome she had. And how about her impact on my post that I'm pretty proud of right about now? YESSSSS!!!!!!!!!
Question of the day: Will you kindly turn and give the much deserved homage to the 80 of your precious existence? (I think that was more of a command than a question, but we'll just go with the rules of punctuation on this one :-)
As much as I could have used JP's blankness as an excuse to take an off day from my blog, I decided to press through and put some words on the page. Now, don't go thinking that this would have always been my choice. I have spent years and years procrastinating and intending to do things that I never carried through to completion. Just had a converstation with my BFF about this. I called myself trying to talk her out of "I'm a bad (fill in the blank)" self criticisms. I failed. I didn't fail for lack of love or sincerity, I think it was more so because I couldn't talk her out of the reality that comes with having a pulse.
After having thought about it for a few minuites, I would have tried again and said something along these lines. For every one thing that we beat ourselves for, there are numerous beside that we should praise. Okay, so you didn't finish that scrapbook. But you did fed, clothed, and comforted your child today. You did it yesterday. And you'll do it again tomorrow and even 10 years from now. You are responsible for the laughs, health, and growth you see in them each day. There are few things in life more significant than that.
I finally got around to asking my mother if there was anything in her life that she wanted to do or change. She gave the answer I expected. Just like the rest of us, she has had a life that happened. She wanted to be an opera singer, but her first baby happened. This first baby died much too soon at 39, but she adopted her great niece, aka ME!!! Even by the time she happened to me at 7 years old, the worst of my life had pretty much happened already. Yeah, that bad. The minute she stepped inside the door to take me way down the road from Columbus to Huntsville, the worst halted in it's tracks. The new birth certificate that soon followed turned out to be symbolic just as much as legal...
I'm not a bona fide (paid) opera singer yet, but a couple weeks ago I sang for about two hours in a Tribute Concert I put on for my mother. Everyone said it was so well organized and seemless...Well, let me tell you. Behind the scenes, I was a mess. People were running around like chickens, heads attached and all, making an event planned in just a little over three weeks appear seamless. Of course, if I could do it all over again, there is soooooo much I would do differently, bigger, better... COME ON, SAMANTHA!!! ARE YOU KIDDING???? Girl, you just pulled of one of the most treasured memories of your mother's life, honored her in a way she had never been before, gathered (literally) hundreds of people, and raised a sweet hunk o' money for the American Cancer Society!!!!!!!!!!! Oh, and not to mention, pulled off my first independent concert even surprising myself that I was capable of such a feat! Why has it taken so long to step out of the should have's and give myself this pat on the back?? But you know what? Set this large gesture aside. Actually, take it out of the equation completely.
All my life, I've smiled at people. I've looked them in the eyes and smiled. When I taught preschool, there was a little boy whose finger and toe nails I cleaned by putting a baby wipe over the rounded end of a paper clip just about every day. One year for Christmas I made memory boxes as gifts for friends and family. I love giving big hugs like I mean it!!
Look, we can focus on the 20 or the 80...it's a choice we make with each and every thought we have about self correction. Do you know how many times I thought about blogging before I first did it? How many times I had profound thoughts that I never wrote down even after I did start? But here's the right question. Why did I begin again? No, not because I watched a movie four times in one day and connected. That was only the impetice. I'd seen that movie at least ten other times.
I began again because I found the right reason to do so and that reason FINALLY incited a purpose. Cancer is awful. It's slowly taking my mother away from me. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't have a purpose. Having a day job (a wonderful one, I'll add) when you want to really be spending your entire day singing is mayo mayo crumage. Life happens. What good is it to miss the endless collisions with purpose because you dwell more in your minor defeat rather than mega triumphs? You are the best mom, daughter, singer, friend, etc. most will ever know. Sure, we don't get it right, but only 20% of the time...CELEBRATE THE 80!!
Julie's intentions to post 8 years ago today went blank, but what a great outcome she had. And how about her impact on my post that I'm pretty proud of right about now? YESSSSS!!!!!!!!!
Question of the day: Will you kindly turn and give the much deserved homage to the 80 of your precious existence? (I think that was more of a command than a question, but we'll just go with the rules of punctuation on this one :-)
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Making fun and sense of vision
Alas, my darling JP gave me a title once again!! Just a little curious as to whether it will enable or prohibit creatively bare my mind...Let's try it out...UPDATE: I ended up completely ignoring it in terms of content so ended up going with an original title. YAY me!!
Thanks to the vigil at my mother's bedside, I happened upon the documentary, "A Surprise in Texas" which is the equivalent to the Met Opera competition film of the same, on for pianists. The world-renown Cliburn competition. As much as I was goose-bumped with the shared victories of those who triumphed through each level and eventually took hope the medals, I was mostly relieved that I'm a singer instead. Nearly all of the top 6 played my favorite Rachmaninoff concertos and I reminisced about my days playing in symphony orchestras accompanying talented singers and instrumentalists. My mother asked me if I missed it. I said 'No.' And I don't miss it. Forgive this slight boast, but I am perfectly content to leave behind my own talent and skill for string instruments. I am grateful for the 20 years that my violin and viola wove together a series of music, travel, rehearsals, concerts, and formalities that formed so much of my growing up and early adult years.
What I don't miss? Sitting for three plus hours playing those dreaded pieces I could care less about. Playing with a suckful group of musicians that wouldn't be able to play Stravinsky even after three months of rehearsals let alone the three days we had. Playing only for a mere paycheck.
....wait...my mom gets a little of her medicine in her and starts these hilarious (not in her right mind, of course) rants based on things she hears and sees on TV. Having just watched David Letterman, she woke up after the lightest of sleep and started talking about how she is an instrumental part of the building of the Ground Zero mosque. Said she'd kept it to herself until now because she wanted to let Donald Trump have is time in the sun...I video'd it...will make for most comedic viewing...maybe I should make a web series out of it..."The Musings of a Sundowner" Okay, okay...maybe just a book. I could even find some other patients who have similar "episodes" and write 'em all down!! That's IT!! Millions, get ready to be made, babeh!! And nobody steal my idea, got it! HAHAHAHA!
So, where was I? Ah yes. What I don't miss about my former symphonic life. The biggest thing I don't miss is playing for singers while wishing it was me standing at the front of the orchestra whispering tempo requests to the conductor. How many times I've practiced my future right-kind-of-diva decorum. Most people would be embarrassed to be caught picking their nose, and so would I, but if someone ever walked in on me shaking invisible hands and singing towards the, likewise invisible, orchestra during a first rehearsal, Id be all too mortified!! If only my mother and my apartment complexes past and present never knew how many times I erected concert halls within their property walls, I think they'd try to commit me!
But you know, I think that's what defines many of the 'made it' stories we hear from those who have ascended to the ranks of fame and good works. They envisioned their greatness far before it ever happened. Hopefully, that's what I'm doing too...
Question of the day: Setting aside the "it hasn't happened yet" part, aren't visions of greatness fun??
Thanks to the vigil at my mother's bedside, I happened upon the documentary, "A Surprise in Texas" which is the equivalent to the Met Opera competition film of the same, on for pianists. The world-renown Cliburn competition. As much as I was goose-bumped with the shared victories of those who triumphed through each level and eventually took hope the medals, I was mostly relieved that I'm a singer instead. Nearly all of the top 6 played my favorite Rachmaninoff concertos and I reminisced about my days playing in symphony orchestras accompanying talented singers and instrumentalists. My mother asked me if I missed it. I said 'No.' And I don't miss it. Forgive this slight boast, but I am perfectly content to leave behind my own talent and skill for string instruments. I am grateful for the 20 years that my violin and viola wove together a series of music, travel, rehearsals, concerts, and formalities that formed so much of my growing up and early adult years.
What I don't miss? Sitting for three plus hours playing those dreaded pieces I could care less about. Playing with a suckful group of musicians that wouldn't be able to play Stravinsky even after three months of rehearsals let alone the three days we had. Playing only for a mere paycheck.
....wait...my mom gets a little of her medicine in her and starts these hilarious (not in her right mind, of course) rants based on things she hears and sees on TV. Having just watched David Letterman, she woke up after the lightest of sleep and started talking about how she is an instrumental part of the building of the Ground Zero mosque. Said she'd kept it to herself until now because she wanted to let Donald Trump have is time in the sun...I video'd it...will make for most comedic viewing...maybe I should make a web series out of it..."The Musings of a Sundowner" Okay, okay...maybe just a book. I could even find some other patients who have similar "episodes" and write 'em all down!! That's IT!! Millions, get ready to be made, babeh!! And nobody steal my idea, got it! HAHAHAHA!
So, where was I? Ah yes. What I don't miss about my former symphonic life. The biggest thing I don't miss is playing for singers while wishing it was me standing at the front of the orchestra whispering tempo requests to the conductor. How many times I've practiced my future right-kind-of-diva decorum. Most people would be embarrassed to be caught picking their nose, and so would I, but if someone ever walked in on me shaking invisible hands and singing towards the, likewise invisible, orchestra during a first rehearsal, Id be all too mortified!! If only my mother and my apartment complexes past and present never knew how many times I erected concert halls within their property walls, I think they'd try to commit me!
But you know, I think that's what defines many of the 'made it' stories we hear from those who have ascended to the ranks of fame and good works. They envisioned their greatness far before it ever happened. Hopefully, that's what I'm doing too...
Question of the day: Setting aside the "it hasn't happened yet" part, aren't visions of greatness fun??
Monday, August 30, 2010
When they ask you, say "Yes"
I have all of $3 to my name at the moment. And for good reason. I paid all my bills up so that I could go to San Francisco free and clear next weekend. Between my get-through-the-week stash tucked away in my Nashville apartment and a few dollars my mom was supposed to give me from some medicine I'd purchased for her a couple weeks ago, I was "scheduled" to be okay.Any time you go into a hospital there are tons of questions asked. Medical history, level of pain, dietary choice, DNR or not to DNR. But it's the questions asked to those who are dealing with the illness or difficult circumstance surrounding a loved one that give me the most trouble. It's the "Do you need anything?" type of questions. I don't know why communicating that I do actually need something when asked this is one of the most uncomfortable feelings on earth. For me, at least. Right now, me and my light purse need to say yes to that question as often as I can. "Yes, " I would like some lunch." "Yes, I do need a little cash to hold me over." Today I said it twice and you better believe that I feel so much better with a full belly and gas money! But why the awky process? Pride? No. Fear of being demoted from super heroine to non-self-reliant? Maybe.
My mother is in a lot of pain right now, but in her sub awareness she always says "No" when asked if she's in pain, amidst waves of whincing and grunting. Working with the moderate coherence she does have I've been trying to prompt her each time she moans. "When they ask you if you are having any pain, say 'Yes.' So what are you going to say now?" "Yes." ..."okay, good." That way you won't have to hurt anymore. Nurse: "Are you having any pain, Mrs. King?" Mom: (faintly): "No..." *whince*grunt*moan*
In other news, I made a step in the right direction and brought a couple of my opera books to the hospital with me. Did I open them? Ummm, that would be a No. I am once again hopeful for tomorrow...six days until lesson time and counting. As of right now, I'm still planning on making the trip. I need this. I need to feel like I am still moving in a vocal direction eventhough I'm mostly caught up in a holding pattern. I have to say "Yes" and feel the relief, the loosening of the burden, the lifting of the veil when someone asks if they can do anything. Now, let's just hope they ask...
My mother just said "Yes" too. At long last, morphine winds its slow way up the IV tube...
Question of the day: Are you taking on things all by yourself that would be made easier if you would just say "YES" to help?
Sunday, August 29, 2010
"Remember that you are human..."
Today's (tonight's) title...a quote from the darling and blunt JP.
I have exactly 24 minutes to write this entry if I'm going to make my midnight deadline for this post to authentically be written on 8/29. I desparately tried all day to first read my muse's post, but constantly kept being (kindly) interrupted. Such and so called. This person stopped by. It was time for the 13th medication. The 3rd breathing treatment.
My mother is misbehaving once again, AKA - is in the hospital. Pneumonia. With all the misbehaving she's been doing over just the past three months, I would say she's been shopping in the wrong catalogue. Not only did she have to get a cancer that happens to only 1-2 per million people. (We know you're one in a million mom, but this time you've just gone too far!!) But to add to this, she's had a pulmonary embolism, atrial fibrilation, seizures, and now pneumonia! That's just about everything in the book, don't cha think?
So what does all of this have to do with me, the singing, and the dreams? Nothing short of everything. You see how far back I'm pushed with trying to get this blog entry in under the deadline. Can you imagine if this were an application deadline when it really mattered??? But it isn't an application. Thank God it isn't. I talk about dreaming, but the biggest part of it is dealing with the everyday reality. The paradoxical reality that just because I'm human it doesn't mean that I'm always to blame when things go off schedule, off track. And it's not my mother's fault either.
I have eight minutes left. But if I were in Florida, I'd already be an hour late, while in California, I'd still have two hours to spare. So is it really that big of a deal? Of course not. Not this time. I guess what I'm trying to say is that this weekend was supposed to be about learning and practice. A couple of days devoted to broadening my repetiore and locking it into place for my lesson next week. A lesson that I may not get to because flying out to San Francisco might not be the best thing right now. I can't feel bad that my music books have been riding around in my car for the past two days, sliding about with every sharp turn and even gentle slowing to stoplights. I brought them because my mother has a piano in her house and I don't.
It's a Clavinova keyboard, one of those you can plug a book into and play along with this symphonic accompaniment. It was a new and novel thing, top of the line when we first got it. I remember all of the different experimentations with rhythms and modes. Stereo Piano 4 is my favorite. In all its timelessness, it has been a place where my awkward fingers failed at even basic piano until the age of 10. It's been the source of musical doting and duels where my mother's creative input bellowed from its keys to help me play my violin in tune. And now, it's a place where note by note, I pluck away at new arias and sing them as she once did on a piano long ago.
12:05am has just rolled around and I've missied my deadline. As hard as it will be for me to grasp the fact that I will physically write two entries on the same day, what's fortunate is that my blog graces me and charts the minute you start, not the mintue you finish. Hmmm, I think a quote or some profound sermon should be born out of that...
Question of the day - Are there aspects of your life that may not be going quite right where you need to "remember that you are human...?"
I have exactly 24 minutes to write this entry if I'm going to make my midnight deadline for this post to authentically be written on 8/29. I desparately tried all day to first read my muse's post, but constantly kept being (kindly) interrupted. Such and so called. This person stopped by. It was time for the 13th medication. The 3rd breathing treatment.
My mother is misbehaving once again, AKA - is in the hospital. Pneumonia. With all the misbehaving she's been doing over just the past three months, I would say she's been shopping in the wrong catalogue. Not only did she have to get a cancer that happens to only 1-2 per million people. (We know you're one in a million mom, but this time you've just gone too far!!) But to add to this, she's had a pulmonary embolism, atrial fibrilation, seizures, and now pneumonia! That's just about everything in the book, don't cha think?
So what does all of this have to do with me, the singing, and the dreams? Nothing short of everything. You see how far back I'm pushed with trying to get this blog entry in under the deadline. Can you imagine if this were an application deadline when it really mattered??? But it isn't an application. Thank God it isn't. I talk about dreaming, but the biggest part of it is dealing with the everyday reality. The paradoxical reality that just because I'm human it doesn't mean that I'm always to blame when things go off schedule, off track. And it's not my mother's fault either.
I have eight minutes left. But if I were in Florida, I'd already be an hour late, while in California, I'd still have two hours to spare. So is it really that big of a deal? Of course not. Not this time. I guess what I'm trying to say is that this weekend was supposed to be about learning and practice. A couple of days devoted to broadening my repetiore and locking it into place for my lesson next week. A lesson that I may not get to because flying out to San Francisco might not be the best thing right now. I can't feel bad that my music books have been riding around in my car for the past two days, sliding about with every sharp turn and even gentle slowing to stoplights. I brought them because my mother has a piano in her house and I don't.
It's a Clavinova keyboard, one of those you can plug a book into and play along with this symphonic accompaniment. It was a new and novel thing, top of the line when we first got it. I remember all of the different experimentations with rhythms and modes. Stereo Piano 4 is my favorite. In all its timelessness, it has been a place where my awkward fingers failed at even basic piano until the age of 10. It's been the source of musical doting and duels where my mother's creative input bellowed from its keys to help me play my violin in tune. And now, it's a place where note by note, I pluck away at new arias and sing them as she once did on a piano long ago.
12:05am has just rolled around and I've missied my deadline. As hard as it will be for me to grasp the fact that I will physically write two entries on the same day, what's fortunate is that my blog graces me and charts the minute you start, not the mintue you finish. Hmmm, I think a quote or some profound sermon should be born out of that...
Question of the day - Are there aspects of your life that may not be going quite right where you need to "remember that you are human...?"
Friday, August 27, 2010
Happy Birthday
Because of my integrity to read JP's blog only day by day, I found today that she actually didn't title her blog entries. Sigh...so, I'm back on my own when it comes to subject and direction for my own entries...sigh again...Wait, not sigh. I can do this!
No, it's not my birthday...the honor belongs to my now 27 year old cousin Mark Jones, a recent graduate from Le Cordon Bleu Culinary School, Los Angeles. Believe you me, I have had many a decadent meal complements of his talent and schooling. YUMMM!! This time last year, I was a month into my move to Fresno and since he was just a train ride away, I went down to celebrate and had a MOST memorable time...and I'll leave it right there. TeeHee... This was the first of many train rides and now plane rides I've made to LA to spend time with he and his awesome girlfriend, Z. Last I saw them, it was actually the weekend before my birthday, my 30th birthday. **cue horror music**
As bad as it hasn't been to be 30, it's been a real kick in the pants to my opera hopes and dreams. In the world of classical voice, a "Young Artist" is considered to be in the 18-35 age range. Well, over the past few years, go figure, this margin has decreased to around 30-32. As in, the Metropolitan Opera national competition used to have an age limit of 33, it's now 30 and a 1/2. This past January I was deciding whether or not to do the competition despite the fact that I vowed to myself three years ago that I would do it every year I was eligible. Considering the fact that I will still be nice and 30 for the coming year's competition, guess what? My birthday is outside of the 30 and a 1/2 cut off by like two months. Sooooo disappointing. The good news is that I went ahead and did the auditions and WON at the district level. As for Regional, I completely chocked. Couldn't get the voice out of my body. One judge said, "If you can't sing in Memphis, how are you going to sing in New York?" As offended as I initially was at this comment, this was probably the single most helpful feedback ever!
Why in the heck would I be scared to sing, AKA so nervous that the voice hides, like literally, under my spleen and behind my lanrynx? No reason whatsoever!! I will breathe and my voice will bellow out. No fear. No hiding. My slate of auditions/competitions for the season is decided. I'll include a list of them in my post on the 28th. JP gave me the day off tommorow. Hold me accountable, darling readers!! In most cases, these will be my last shot to win career-enabling money and exposure. No time for nerves. I have some big impressions to make...
My mom isn't doing well today... Pain. Swollen legs. Falls. Only wants to sleep. Time is of the essence for the both of us...Tic. Toc...
Question of the day: We all should have faith that everything happens for a reason it its own sweet and perfect time. But in reality, are there timers running down in your world that could stunt, if not cancel your dreams?
No, it's not my birthday...the honor belongs to my now 27 year old cousin Mark Jones, a recent graduate from Le Cordon Bleu Culinary School, Los Angeles. Believe you me, I have had many a decadent meal complements of his talent and schooling. YUMMM!! This time last year, I was a month into my move to Fresno and since he was just a train ride away, I went down to celebrate and had a MOST memorable time...and I'll leave it right there. TeeHee... This was the first of many train rides and now plane rides I've made to LA to spend time with he and his awesome girlfriend, Z. Last I saw them, it was actually the weekend before my birthday, my 30th birthday. **cue horror music**
As bad as it hasn't been to be 30, it's been a real kick in the pants to my opera hopes and dreams. In the world of classical voice, a "Young Artist" is considered to be in the 18-35 age range. Well, over the past few years, go figure, this margin has decreased to around 30-32. As in, the Metropolitan Opera national competition used to have an age limit of 33, it's now 30 and a 1/2. This past January I was deciding whether or not to do the competition despite the fact that I vowed to myself three years ago that I would do it every year I was eligible. Considering the fact that I will still be nice and 30 for the coming year's competition, guess what? My birthday is outside of the 30 and a 1/2 cut off by like two months. Sooooo disappointing. The good news is that I went ahead and did the auditions and WON at the district level. As for Regional, I completely chocked. Couldn't get the voice out of my body. One judge said, "If you can't sing in Memphis, how are you going to sing in New York?" As offended as I initially was at this comment, this was probably the single most helpful feedback ever!
Why in the heck would I be scared to sing, AKA so nervous that the voice hides, like literally, under my spleen and behind my lanrynx? No reason whatsoever!! I will breathe and my voice will bellow out. No fear. No hiding. My slate of auditions/competitions for the season is decided. I'll include a list of them in my post on the 28th. JP gave me the day off tommorow. Hold me accountable, darling readers!! In most cases, these will be my last shot to win career-enabling money and exposure. No time for nerves. I have some big impressions to make...
My mom isn't doing well today... Pain. Swollen legs. Falls. Only wants to sleep. Time is of the essence for the both of us...Tic. Toc...
Question of the day: We all should have faith that everything happens for a reason it its own sweet and perfect time. But in reality, are there timers running down in your world that could stunt, if not cancel your dreams?
Thursday, August 26, 2010
The How's and Wherefore's...
Rule #2 for this blog: Since taking on this new project, things to write about are rushing about me both day and night, I am going to title my entries according to my inspirator, Mrs. Julie Powell. It will give me a center and help me focus the day's writing. Hmmm...hope that doesn't obstruct some kind of copyright precept. Well, today's title has apostrophes. Hers does not...::shrug::
So, how will I blaze a trail in the opera world? In a matter of months??? That is definitely something I can't answer right now. I'm going to stop trying to answer for the months ahead. What's best is that I gather all the cliches and quotes like carpe diem, yadah, yadah, yadah...and finally believe in them enough to alter my m.o. Today, I can make a stride. What stride? Stop procrastinating about mapping out my audition plan and write the thing down!!! Why do we always do this? We want to do something good, noble, progressive, or just plain fun and we put it off today, off tomorrow, until it's "4-6 months."
I've never asked my mom if there were things in life she wanted to do, but never did...maybe I should. I mean, from my eyes, I can say that she's had a great life with the same share of heartache as anyone else. A plucky childhood with loving parents and close siblings. Marriage. Divorce. Birth of children. Teaching children. Adopting a child. The death of a child. Losing a husband, a sister, friends...I still remember the day I did the math and realized that she had been a teenage mother. It was a revelation about her life and why she finished college in her late 30's and a master's degree at 41. And then it made sense to me why she was so "cautionary" about me ruining my life by being a baby having a baby! One summer, at 14 years old, I came back from a music arts camp and was welcomed back by grilling about about alleged "trouble" I'd gotten into with boys. "I'll take you to the abortion clinic," she said. OMG to the absolute MAX!!!!!!!!!!!! I certainly believe in at least one immaculate conception, but an immaculate abortion??? I've still not let her live that down...in love, of course. I asked her a short while ago about what it was like telling her mother about much too soon bundle of joy. From her account, her mother seemed rather disappointed, but calm...she and the father married. She finished high school through a home program of some sort. Her life was altered, but far from ruined...
I talked to my mother yesterday she asked me a question of her own. She said, "And what about your voice?" For some reason, I got so sad and even bothered. Why? Because all I could tell her is that I'm going to San Francisco next week for yet another lesson with my far away voice teacher...but that's not sad. It's a good thing, kind of. No, it is sad because this very well could be my last lesson. I'm at an impasse where I want to do things that my teacher doesn't agree with, as in summer programs for young artists. And I think she disagrees to the point of not supporting me in writing recommendation letters and the like. She says I'm "above" these types of programs and instead I should do her summer institute program once again that for one, does not offer any pay and two, has not gained me ANY exposure. So, this will be a hard one.
But as I said up top, I cannot drag myself down with something happening even as little as a week from now. I will make my map of auditions and competitions I want to do, and the repertoire that goes with each! That is, wherefore, what I can do TODAY on my trailblazing quest!
Question of the day: What are you putting off for tomorrow what you could be doing today?
So, how will I blaze a trail in the opera world? In a matter of months??? That is definitely something I can't answer right now. I'm going to stop trying to answer for the months ahead. What's best is that I gather all the cliches and quotes like carpe diem, yadah, yadah, yadah...and finally believe in them enough to alter my m.o. Today, I can make a stride. What stride? Stop procrastinating about mapping out my audition plan and write the thing down!!! Why do we always do this? We want to do something good, noble, progressive, or just plain fun and we put it off today, off tomorrow, until it's "4-6 months."
I've never asked my mom if there were things in life she wanted to do, but never did...maybe I should. I mean, from my eyes, I can say that she's had a great life with the same share of heartache as anyone else. A plucky childhood with loving parents and close siblings. Marriage. Divorce. Birth of children. Teaching children. Adopting a child. The death of a child. Losing a husband, a sister, friends...I still remember the day I did the math and realized that she had been a teenage mother. It was a revelation about her life and why she finished college in her late 30's and a master's degree at 41. And then it made sense to me why she was so "cautionary" about me ruining my life by being a baby having a baby! One summer, at 14 years old, I came back from a music arts camp and was welcomed back by grilling about about alleged "trouble" I'd gotten into with boys. "I'll take you to the abortion clinic," she said. OMG to the absolute MAX!!!!!!!!!!!! I certainly believe in at least one immaculate conception, but an immaculate abortion??? I've still not let her live that down...in love, of course. I asked her a short while ago about what it was like telling her mother about much too soon bundle of joy. From her account, her mother seemed rather disappointed, but calm...she and the father married. She finished high school through a home program of some sort. Her life was altered, but far from ruined...
I talked to my mother yesterday she asked me a question of her own. She said, "And what about your voice?" For some reason, I got so sad and even bothered. Why? Because all I could tell her is that I'm going to San Francisco next week for yet another lesson with my far away voice teacher...but that's not sad. It's a good thing, kind of. No, it is sad because this very well could be my last lesson. I'm at an impasse where I want to do things that my teacher doesn't agree with, as in summer programs for young artists. And I think she disagrees to the point of not supporting me in writing recommendation letters and the like. She says I'm "above" these types of programs and instead I should do her summer institute program once again that for one, does not offer any pay and two, has not gained me ANY exposure. So, this will be a hard one.
But as I said up top, I cannot drag myself down with something happening even as little as a week from now. I will make my map of auditions and competitions I want to do, and the repertoire that goes with each! That is, wherefore, what I can do TODAY on my trailblazing quest!
Question of the day: What are you putting off for tomorrow what you could be doing today?
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
New Direction...The Sammie/Julie/Julia Project...
It's Blog Relaunch Day!!!!!
Okay, so I'm an abandoner...I began this blog a year ago upon anticipating my move to Fresno. What I wanted: A courageous tale about a young woman finally reaching her dreams!! What it turned into: Endless droning about the awfulness of central California and my depressing internal state!! BUT!! I now have a plan. On August 14th, I watched the movie Julie & Julia three, no four, times. Coincidentally, I found "The Juile/Julia Project" actually still in its raw form on salon.com. Read along with me here: http://blogs.salon.com/0001399/2002/08/25.html
I think Mrs. Powell and I have a lot in common. Well, that is, when she first started her life-altering project. Likewise coincidental, she began on August 25th, 2002. So, eight years later, I link up with JP in an attempt to change my own life with only one simple rule: For every day that she wrote about her journey through the Julia Child cookbook, so shall I write about my quest for full-time operahood. So no, I won't be cooking, with the intent to write about it, anyway. I'm a good cook and I love doing so, but here's my take. My mother is ill. Cancer. "There's nothing we can do." 4-6 months they say. HA! Only GOD has the final say!! Knowing her, she'll be smiling and kickin 4-6 years from now!!! Reality sets back in...
I'm an opera singer. She wanted to be an opera singer. She wants me to be all the opera singer both she and I were/are supposed to be. So, I have the rest of her life to sing my way into some opera grandeur - whether landing a contract, winning mega opera competition(s), encountering a magical moment when that particular career-enabling someone just happens to hear me. Oh say, during "borrowed" time in a Blair School of Music practice room at Vanderbilt or some other random juncture that would make for good storytelling!
Audition season is upon thousands of singers with the same objective (hopefully without the ailing parent part.) So, applications are going out, new arias and art songs being researched and memorized, cross country treks to lessons are being booked. I'm just going to sing. If they want me, great. If not, don't ask me what I'll do then, but this process is not about that. It's about the one and only opportunity I have to make my mother's final resting pillow plush with the news that her daughter has plenty of places to sing...
Aaaaannnnddd..ACTION!! Buona voce!!
(The one thing I am keeping from the old blog format...) Question of the day: Don't you think it's time to relaunch some things in your life?
Okay, so I'm an abandoner...I began this blog a year ago upon anticipating my move to Fresno. What I wanted: A courageous tale about a young woman finally reaching her dreams!! What it turned into: Endless droning about the awfulness of central California and my depressing internal state!! BUT!! I now have a plan. On August 14th, I watched the movie Julie & Julia three, no four, times. Coincidentally, I found "The Juile/Julia Project" actually still in its raw form on salon.com. Read along with me here: http://blogs.salon.com/0001399/2002/08/25.html
I think Mrs. Powell and I have a lot in common. Well, that is, when she first started her life-altering project. Likewise coincidental, she began on August 25th, 2002. So, eight years later, I link up with JP in an attempt to change my own life with only one simple rule: For every day that she wrote about her journey through the Julia Child cookbook, so shall I write about my quest for full-time operahood. So no, I won't be cooking, with the intent to write about it, anyway. I'm a good cook and I love doing so, but here's my take. My mother is ill. Cancer. "There's nothing we can do." 4-6 months they say. HA! Only GOD has the final say!! Knowing her, she'll be smiling and kickin 4-6 years from now!!! Reality sets back in...
I'm an opera singer. She wanted to be an opera singer. She wants me to be all the opera singer both she and I were/are supposed to be. So, I have the rest of her life to sing my way into some opera grandeur - whether landing a contract, winning mega opera competition(s), encountering a magical moment when that particular career-enabling someone just happens to hear me. Oh say, during "borrowed" time in a Blair School of Music practice room at Vanderbilt or some other random juncture that would make for good storytelling!
Audition season is upon thousands of singers with the same objective (hopefully without the ailing parent part.) So, applications are going out, new arias and art songs being researched and memorized, cross country treks to lessons are being booked. I'm just going to sing. If they want me, great. If not, don't ask me what I'll do then, but this process is not about that. It's about the one and only opportunity I have to make my mother's final resting pillow plush with the news that her daughter has plenty of places to sing...
Aaaaannnnddd..ACTION!! Buona voce!!
(The one thing I am keeping from the old blog format...) Question of the day: Don't you think it's time to relaunch some things in your life?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)