I didn't wear black

and bought copic markers

not a "real" artist.

HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY

This was my HAPPY highlight of the week. My little friend Emily invited me to read to her First Grade class. My daughter is now 13 so I don't get to do the read aloud thing anymore and I miss it. I love children's books and I love sharing books by reading aloud. I loved the energy and exhuberance of the first graders, the giggles, the questions, the wiggles, and I love how the little dude in the Phillies shirt wandered into our picture!! Mostly I loved the GIGANTIC hug I received from Emily when I entered the classroom. I wish it all could have lasted longer - it was one great big HAPPY!

HAPPY!!

I'm late to the party - I know. I've been involved in a project that was MUCH more all consuming than I had anticipated. I've been doing what I LOVE which is what it's all about but this was almost an overdose. I'm looking forward to visiting blogs and seeing all the happiness and joy and fun! This week for me -it was snow. I once lived in Minnesota where snow was an everyday experience. Now I live in Jew Jersey where snow is an event. I like that. It stopped everything here for about a day which was good for me. It gave me time to stop and just enjoy the simple things like laughing and playing in the snow with my 13 year old.

Auditions

Part of what I'm exploring here on my little ol' blog is my creative process. My absence from blogging is worth exploring because it is indicative of an aspect of my creative way of being but I will write about that later. This time I just want to remind myself of my typical reaction to auditions. I'm not sure that at the age of 48 I can retrain myself but I certainly can and do recognize the pattern.

I rarely feel "nervous" about auditions. Instead what I feel is a sort of free floating dread and anxiety. No matter how good I feel prior, at about 30-24 hours before the audition I begin to feel hopeless. It's not just that I think I can't do the audition, I start to think that EVERYTHING I've ever done or will do is pointless and/or a failure. I feel what is akin to the deepest chemical depressions through which I've journeyed. I also begin to feel sick. I develop flu-like symptoms and frequently run a fever. Many times I'm unable to sleep at night, again, not because I feel nervous but because I feel sick or in pain. At the time I am going through all of this it seems enough to justify my never performing again. I could say, "If it's this much agony, then maybe it's your body telling you that you shouldn't be doing this." But, I also know that if I tough it out and just go to the audition, I will be fine. I ALWAYS find that burst of joy and adrenaline during the audition and even if I still feel unwell after the audition, I know that will dissipate within about 24 hours.

I've tried to re-train my mind, and actually, I DO think of auditions as opportunities and once I'm there, I enjoy them. But, my body has it's own way of responding. It's almost as if my body knows I must wrestle the demons out before I can effectively approach the creative fires of the audition process. I've learned to just acknowledge what is happening, to pamper myself a little but to just keep moving forward despite what I feel.

"I detest audiences, not in their individual components, but, en masse I detest audiences. I think they are a force of evil. The spectator in the arena who regards the musical performance as some sort of athletic event is happily removed from the risk, but he takes some kind of glee in what goes on there. To me, this is heartless, ruthless and senseless. This is, of course, entirely separate from what is really going on, an effort by the performer to form a powerful identification with the music. A performance is not a contest but a love affair."
-Glenn Gould

Play

Photo by RL Valde (my Dad)

This week's chapter of The Joy Diet, "Play" has helped me bring some things into focus. I have been blessed in that I have known what my "real career" is for nearly all of my life. What I do is where I feel at home, where I feel connected and where I feel joy. It has been where I play and it has also been where I work. That has been part of the challenge for me throughout my life, to allow it all to remain play even though it is my job. That hasn't always been easy.


Another great blessing I have enjoyed is the surprise of being a mother. It has been play and it has been an immense joy. For something I had never planned on doing, being a mom has felt so natural. It has the same feeling about it that singing has always had - it is instinctive, I feel called to it, and (most days) it's fun.


All of this is in flux at the moment. My daughter entered middle school this year and as several of you already know- it's a huge change. The rules are all different now and for the first time, I feel unsure of my mothering skills. Some days I'm just one step a head other days I'm two steps behind.


I'm feeling the same way about my performing as well. I won't bore you with the details here. I will just say that until recently, I felt on track. I had switched trains but I was still on track. Now, I'm not sure where I'm going.


I think this what some would call a "midlife crisis." That phraseology seems a little dramatic for my situation. However, everything is changing, my body, my role as a mother, my "career." I have been gathering in, quietly feeling around the edges of all this newness and moving toward what is next without really knowing what that might be. From the outside, I'm sure it looks like I am standing still. I thought I would be settled and rock solid by the time I was this age. I wasn't at all prepared to be in this place so it is a little disconcerting. There is a part of me that wants to get some mind numbing job just to fill the time. But, thanks to a phone call with a great friend (thanks Patricia) and a question Martha Beck poses in this chapter, I know I can't do that.


Martha asks, "what did you do after 9/11?" I, of course, connected with family and friends. But, I remember the two things that seemed crucial to me at the time. 1). loving my daughter and helping her obtain the skills she needs to blossom into the incredible woman I know she will be. 2. bringing comfort to others in the way I had to offer - through my voice. So often I have been told "you have a gift" and I say to myself "yeah, a 'gift' that cost as much as medical school." But, at that time it truly did feel like a gift. I actually had something of value that I could contribute and it felt like a gift.


So, although I'm not sure where I'm going, I know it still somehow involves these two things. This Chapter has been a great reminder to me to stay true to myself and to maintain my sense of play as I go through this transition.