In the Audience

I spent Saturday evening watching my friends The Obscure Dignitaries. I always have so much fun at their shows, and 90% of the time I have no idea what language I'm listening to.  If I were a braver woman, I would get up to dance, chant lyrics, or clap the beat enthusiastically. But I'm a chicken, so I just sit in the back and enjoy everyone else doing all those things. 

Later that night I decided to bake some cookies since some people were going to be coming over the next day. I came home from the concert and made a list of supplies to make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and scones. I dashed out to Tom Thumb, bought supplies, and dashed back home. Roy came out to the front yard to 'help' me bring the supplies. After attempting to corral the crazy cat back inside (he preferred to stay out and pick a fight with the neighbor's cat), Roy and I came back in. I threw on In Ear Park to pep me up for an hour of baking. (One of my all-time favorite albums. Hear it here: GROOVESHARK) 

The night began great. Shoved all my drinks in the fridge, unpacked my plastic baggies holding the baking supplies, and danced my booty around the house [thank goodness the new roommate hasn't moved in yet].

I turned the oven on and then walked over to the pile of baking supplies. Then it hits me: I forgot, like, four essential ingredients. 

BUMMER. I was looking so forward to being that great hostess that had homemade goodies ready for the gang. I majorly failed Saturday night. [sorry gang]

So, instead, I wrote down some thoughts about being in an audience since I was in one Saturday night.

1. We musicians have something to say through our music, and it means a lot when you show up to listen. 

That really weighed on me. It's kind of like that CS Lewis quote about not fully experiencing love until you're able to verbally express it to the one you love. I've played with groups that jammed at home for fun. It seemed to unfulfilling to me. What's the point of being musical if you're not being musical to anyone? I did my last show with The Bandettes (now called Velocette) back in July 2011. After setting up and sound checking, I remember thinking, "Yes. This is right." People were going to come here us play the things we had been playing for ourselves for a few weeks. That was good, and that was the way it should be. People needed to come hear the musical things we had to say.

Photo cred: Rich Hughes

2. These performances take so much more time to prepare for them than it does for you to sit and listen to them. 

That's something I really understand as a musician. I wonder if non-performers get that. Those of us in the arts spend so many hours on our craft. One of my favorite bands Eisley is getting ready to go on tour again. They posted online that they started rehearsing two weeks out before their tour begins. I was a little surprised to read that because somehow I thought they were robots and remembered all their songs. Why would they need to practice? Well, why the heck do I need to rehearse with any of the ensembles I ever play in? Sure, it's always with different people and different tunes, but if you want your concert to go well, you kind of need to practice and make sure you know what you're doing.

From Eisley's instagram

3. It's healthy to be an audience member. 

It's good for a little while to not be doing something for yourself or involves stuff in your life. For a little while, you can receive something that someone else has prepared for you. For an hour or two your attention can be on something other than your phone, facebook, or any other social media thing you may belong to. This is good. There's a lot out there telling us how important it is to put our needs first ("If you don't take care of you first, then how can you take care of others??"). I kind of find thinking and taking care of myself kind of exhausting, to be frank. For a little while on Saturday night I didn't have to think about me. I believe that's healthy.

We're all so terribly busy, especially those of us with spouses and children (or pets or plants or sofas or Netflixes). But for a couple hours tonight, I wasn't at home doing my own stuff. I was out hearing what my friends had to give me. It really didn't require me to do much other than show up. Well, I might've had to do more if Rachel's mic cord would've allowed her to make it all the way to the back row where I was sitting. You need to be ready to participate with these dudes...

4. Most of us aren't necessarily just doing this because it's fun or it's our job (though that's usually what we say). We do this because something in our souls calls us to stand in front of you and play. 

Seriously. Well, alright, it may just be me on this one. But go with me here... Why did any of the great composers write? Why do any of our beloved conductors conduct? Why has Paul McCartney been on a stage for over 50 years? I think all of them and others like them felt 'the call,' and weren't able to do anything else with their lives. Sure, you get those who really are just in it for the money, but I don't believe they last all that long. Great music comes from people who are inwardly stirred to be musical. Those are the people you should be listening to - and hear live even! How much richer will your life be if you do?

5. Being in the audience can be great inspiration for things you want to do performance-wise.

All these ideas flooded into my mind for places my quintet could play and stuff I could do on my own for open mic nights. My goodness, it was so effortless! Kind of like you get struck by a genius idea in the shower - you're not even looking for it. Perhaps the environment cleared my mind. Perhaps I was inspired by the people playing in front of me. Whatever it was, I was able to walk away with good ideas for my work (including this post right here). 

So that's it. I encourage you to attend more musical performances. It's good for you.

Sigh. Rest in Peace, would-be baking stuffs.
You will be eaten another day.

And now I bring you a tale from my youngest brother William, who is currently runs a blog on soccer called Everybody Soccer. I first heard this story through a phone call at 3am. It's a fantastic story, even though I wasn't in a state of mind to fully appreciate it the moment I heard it. I give a couple props to Will who thought it was so necessary to tell me about it that he needed to call me in the middle of the night.

"In the summer of 2012 I took a tour up the east coast for two weeks to follow the US men’s soccer team. Their third game of four was in Toronto, on June 3rd. I arrived in Toronto on the first of June, a couple days before the game so I could relax after the long train ride from DC. But when I got off the train I had the “I’ve been sitting for too long I need to do something” sort of feeling. It was around seven or eight so I knew the nightlife on a Friday night in a big city surely had something to offer.

After I got settled in my hotel (which was just a converted college dorm) I got online to see if any bands were playing nearby. The only band I knew that I could find was Empire! Empire! (I Was A Lonely Estate), an American emo revival band, as described by Wikipedia. I wasn’t huge on the band but figured the show would be entertaining so I got my iPhone out and tracked down where they were, only a mile and a half away. Not too shabby and I was looking to walk anyway. I ended up in the area but couldn’t find the concert. The address I entered, which I triple checked, led me to an intersection but I could only hear a jazz band within earshot, which definitely was not the scream-based music I was expecting. After searching around for a bit, I settled on the jazz band, which had about six people watching when I walked in around 10 pm. 

IT WAS THE BEST BAND IN THE WORLD. 

I should state that I’m no musician or a music expert. I was going to see a screamo band after all. But trust me, this was the best band ever. It was a four-piece band with no name. The drummer and bassist had never played with the lead singer and guitarist. They had no song organization. The lead singer would simply call out some simple instructions when starting a song. Typically he would give a foundation to the drummer and yell what key it was to the guitarists. This man was insane. He walked around like Hank Hill’s father, without bending his knees. He would yell some incoherent words into the microphone and “dance” which was more like waddling. He buzzed around on the harmonica. He simultaneously scared me and amazed me. 

The drummer was a late twenties man whose appearance could best be described as “grungy” but he was a wizard with his relatively small kit. Snare, kick, tom, crash and hi-hat. Your standard garage band set up. I vividly remember him inverting his stick and with the head of the stick pressing hard on the cymbal, he spun the cymbal, giving off a loud noise like metal grinding on metal. I tried to recreate this with the next kit I saw and it sounded terrifying. Yet this drummer threw it in each song perfectly. He had a dozen different sounds for each piece. Probably more. It was like he continually got bored of drumming as was looking to play no two notes the same. 

The bass player would be what I would expect the coolest octopus playing a bass guitar would sound like. He was all over the place. The lead singer would occasionally yell “BASS SOLO!!!” which the bassist would obviously not agree with. With a grimace and sigh he would compose an unreal bass solo every time. He was dressed very neat. 

The guitarist had to be at least fifty if not pushing sixty. A dude with a ponytail that looked like he had just gotten off work and his buttoned up shirt was still tucked into his jeans. He stayed more to the back and just played the most fascinating combination of notes on a guitar ever written. He didn’t move a whole lot and you’d forget that he was there for a moment until you thought “Why did I just hear eight men playing one guitar?” 

This went on for two hours, took a small break, and then another two hour set. (A trumpet player showed up for the last two hours and just played whatever he wanted.) All original music with no boundaries. I was so amped I ordered a cup of coffee and I don’t even like coffee. The crowd hit a maximum of twelve people and I was the only one who realized it was the best band ever to play on Earth. 

Afterwards I hung around to talk to the bassist. I asked him about the band and that’s when I found out that he and the drummer had been called less than an hour beforehand to play. For as impressed as I was, the bassist was even more shocked about my story: a Texan in Toronto to see a soccer game who showed up at the wrong show. He was telling everyone. I ended up staying until around four in the morning, where we talked on the patio about jazz (I had nothing to contribute to the discussion) and where a man that was on some serious drugs came up and talked word salad to us for an hour. And then I never talked to any of them ever again."

Willingness

12:07am. I'm home from the Classical Open Mic Night at Buzz Brews. Roy just can't seem to get settled. The Cat is licking himself nearby.

I'm trying to stay on top of things this month. February always seems so brutal. This is my third one since I've come back to Texas, and each has been extremely busy. Last February I worked so much that I got real sick. My poor ears ended up with a "eustachian tube dysfunction." Look it up if you like, but it really just means I had a bunch of fluid in my ear. One evening I was watching Netflix just before bed, and I realized that every pitch I heard [EVERY PITCH, all sounds!] was doubled. Two pitches for the price of one. (Or is it one pitch with the price of two?) Boy, did that freak me out. I figured that was the point I needed to get myself to the doctor. I did, and she told me I had "eustachian tube dysfunction." She also told me my records said I had asthma. (I do not.)

sniff!

Anyway, I've been teaching horn semi-full time for two and a half school years now. What a blessed experience. I love kids and I love horn, and my good friends will tell you I love to talk a lot. Teaching horn lessons is kind of a combination of all three. One of the things I've come to appreciate since taking on horn lessons is the wisdom I walk away with. I learn a lot about people and life from these horn lessons. 

So here are a couple of things I've learned about in terms of becoming a great musician. These things take a certain kind of willingness. 

1. A Willingness to be Wrong

This seems to be a crucial thing in my lessons. It's not that I need or desire to be right. However, I know how to play horn more rightly than my 14 year old students do. The ones who listen to what I say will eventually play rightly too. A lot of my kids are afraid to get stuff wrong though. That's really frustrating for me, for when they fear getting stuff wrong they don't try as hard. I say a lot, "I'm not going to kick you out if you mess up!" I really encourage my kids to totally botch something. When you get it really wrong, you begin to know how to get it right. But when they're not afraid to get it wrong, they sometimes get it really right just by going for it! Magic, huh?

There's also a grown up version of this (though I see it occasionally in the kids I teach). It has to do with being a 'know-it-all.' When one is in the position of 'student,' it is so important to be open to the possibility of being wrong. That's hard, especially in people who have a lot of confidence in what they're doing. I remember going to a brass camp one summer when I was in high school, and Bill Vermeulen was the guest clinician. He was saying something during a master class one day about how difficult Strauss 1 is. Wouldn't you know it, some bonehead horn player decides to get up and play Strauss 1 for him. It was a "I'll show you how awesome I play" kind of move. Didn't throw Bill though. He pointed out every thing that was wrong in the kid's performance, and the kid wasn't happy. 

He didn't want to be wrong. He wanted to show Vermeulen how right he was. Whenever you want to learn from a teacher about anything, be very willing and open to being wrong. After you're corrected, you'll be so very right. 

2. A Willingness to travel down the Boring Road

I had two instances of this one this month.

The first was with one of my junior highers. I asked her how her solo was going. She told me she didn't like it because it was boring. It's actually not boring. It's a great and exciting tune, and it'll get even more exciting for her once she does it with her accompanist. However, at this point, it probably feels a little boring to her. I get that. She has to play the same notes in it over and over again by herself. Boring. 

The second experience happened this week with an older student. I can't specifically remember her horn past (hopefully she'll forgive me for that), but she's essentially playing catch up. I can tell she truly desires to become a better and competent player. I told her that if she wanted to get real good real fast, she needed to become boring and do the same thing every day. Play scales, arpeggios, lip slurs, etc. But she needs to do it every day, and she needs to do it the same way every day. 

I say this to most of my students, and it's something I've just realized for myself this year. A good chunk of a musician's musical experience is kind of boring. Same scales and exercises every day. You reach that boring state when nothing takes you by surprise anymore, and that's when you can become the artist. You can only be an artist when you know where everything is, and the only way to accomplish that is to travel the same boring road every day. (Oh yeah, that's where my C is. Oh right, I always blow my air like that.) The grown up word is consistency. The junior high word is boring. 

If you can be patient and be ok with living in a boring state for awhile, it will pay off greatly. Funny, after playing horn for about 16 years and doing music for over 20 years, I'm only now getting this stuff.

I Love Music

I Love Music. 

I've always loved music. I doubt there's been anything I've loved any more than music. I love listening to it, I love playing it, I love thinking about it, I love talking about it. It's probably the only thing I talk about. I love teaching horn lessons because I get to talk about music. 

One thing I especially I love to do with music is figure out how people have made such GOOD music. This video is currently playing as I type this: 

Now, I'm done trying to convert people to liking my music. I understand everyone has their own taste. You may play this video and not really feel anything special towards it. 

But I really do. 

First of all, I love Bill Callahan. In this video he plays all my favorite songs of his. I get to hear such lovely songs done live by his own hand (and others). However, I also get to see HOW he does it. 

It's remarkable how much time I spend doing this. I just sit and watch. 

I want to KNOW how these people I love do their craft well. One day I may figure it out. 

That's about it for now. Very inconsequential post, but I was so greatly overcome watching this youtube clip. Who are you watching? Who's craft are you trying to figure out?

Oh, and I just want to note, I want to meet Bill Callahan and play on one of his albums one day.

The Desert Song - Week One

Last week was week one of work on The Desert Song - a little operetta Lyric Stage is putting on. I'm so pleased to be performing with this group again! I had a blast doing the musical Nine last November. (I was actually on stage for that one; even did a TINY bit of acting.) Lyric Stage is such an excellent production company. They're one of the best in DFW, in my opinion. 

I'll make this shorter because I'll be off to rehearsal tonight, but I just wanted to post something. I snapped a few photos from last week. 

Jay Dias: one of the best conductors I've ever worked with. He exudes joy and genuine love of music!

From my backyard. We had good weather last week. :)

I'm playing second horn to my good friend Chris who's a real quality player. He always can get me to play louder and better than I normally do. He usually keeps me laughing throughout rehearsal. It's refreshing to play with someone that's so much fun (and good), but I am kind of worried all my giggling is going to get me fired. 

Rehearsals have been a blast, and I'm looking forward to more this week. Performances begin on Thursday night at 8pm. See you there!

2014 - Resolutions

I think making Resolutions at the New Year is a helpful and healthy thing to do. I get the impression doing so is unpopular these days. Here's why I think it's a good idea:

1. Schedules and Time (helps that it's beyond you and me)

I realize that if you think about it REALLY HARD January 1, 2014 is pretty arbitrary. It's just another day in the winter season. I had conversations with two separate people in the last couple of weeks revolving around that very point. 

I believe that it's good to recognize time, dates, and cycles of the year. What happens when such things aren't recognized? The simple answer is you miss birthdays, anniversaries, and other important events. And then you have a bunch of aggravated friends and family members. 

The more complex answer: life is over sooner than you expect it. If the turning over of a New Year is just 'another day,' then we lose the specialness we once revered in the passage of time. We have days and other days and then even more days. Then we wake up and a lot of time has passed us by. I'm 28 and I'm starting to feel that effect. My goodness, I was a senior in high school ten years ago. When did ten years happen? Taking the time to mark those yearly, special occasions slows life down - if only a little bit. 

2. Personal Assessment 

Oh gosh, I truly believe assessment of one's life is so important. Unfortunately, this is an age of 'do what you feel is right' and 'anything goes.' If anything goes, then there really isn't a need to check progress or status in life. Let me say, as a musician anything does NOT go. I can't show up to an audition or a job and just play whatever I want in whatever matter I want. People expect things. Audition panels want to hear a certain sound and ZERO mistakes. Conductors want certain musicians who'll play in particular styles to fit the job. If I need to produce a certain outcome to achieve success in my musical career, then I need periodic checkups to make sure I'm heading towards that outcome. 

Alright, assessment - great. What helps to make that happen is a set point in time. A fixed moment that forces one to sit down and say, "What am I now, and how can I be better?" Someone said to me recently that they could work to improve themselves year-round and don't need a New Year date for an assessment. To me, doing it as the year progresses seems somewhat shortsighted - as if you're looking only to next week. I believe a fresh look at life at the start of a new calendar year can lead to some new directions and experiences in the big picture. Resolve to do big things on purpose, and you have a greater chance of them happening than if you left life up to chance. 

3. Historical Records

New Year's resolutions are a great way to remember the history of our lives. Things that don't go well are great lessons. We're all taught by own lives - even our children learn from how we've lived! By taking a moment on or near New Year's Day to set goals or resolve to do new things, we remind ourselves of the last year we've lived. Even better if there's written documentation: years down the road, you can look back on a piece of yourself. Old resolutions contain our young hopes and dreams, but they also contain evidence of what went wrong in a past life. I find that kind of thing interesting to look back on.

Ok, enough verbiage. Here are my resolutions: 

1. Take more auditions. In 2013, I did one (my first one ever). In 2014, I want to take at least 5. 

2. Increase my performance income by 50%. It's tacky to say how much I earned last year, but I will tell you that I haven't met my financial goal yet. 

3. Get lesson invoices out to my parents within the first week of the new month. I'll admit that am not a huge fan of the 'administrative' part of my self-employment. I let this stop me from being responsible toward my clients - and I know they don't appreciate it. I resolve to be better about this. 

4. Blog once a week. For years I followed Boyd Dupree's blog on Eisley (his kids' band). I follow other bloggers, too. Shoot, we all do. We get nice insights into the stuff we love through things like a blog. I would like to be an open window into the music world. Therefore, I'll try and blog once a week.

The Big Leagues

I'm in the minor leagues. The small times. B-list. Still an understudy. 

That's alright, at least for now. I'll keep working and moving forward in my life. However, it still stings a little when I get that email that says I didn't advance to the next round of auditions. 

You know what's funny? Seven or eight years ago I ran from this whole process... subjecting myself to the mercy of audition panels. Who was I to be judged? I knew I wasn't good enough. I was not going to waste people's time by making them listen to me... a second-rate horn player and musician. 

For the last three years or so, though, I have begun to believe that perhaps I could do it. Perhaps I could make it to the Big Leagues. 

Maybe I can, but today I received an email that reminded me I'm not there yet. Tomorrow, I start over (sort of) and keep working towards the goal of being a successful horn player that earns a good income.

In my case I have found that this is what you get if you let years go by without honing the thing you should be doing. Maybe I could've used more people telling me that I could have been a good horn player. Maybe I could have used more encouragement. The fact is that I denied it and ran from this life. My good friends from Undergrad could tell you that. 

Don't waste time. Whatever you do, don't waste time. Even if you're afraid and feel absolutely alone and not quite sure of the place you've ended up in... don't waste time. 

The Big Leagues come after lots and lots and lots of strike outs.

Thoughts

4am this morning I get woken up by firefighters who say they were called by my alarm system about a fire. (I don't have an alarm system.) It's 4:45am now, and I figure I'll be up for a while. Therefore, I'll finish a post I started a little while ago.


Dad sent me this article a while back: http://jamesclear.com/good-habits. It's about started and keeping good habits.

Point number one from the article: "start with a habit so easy you can't say no"

"The most important part of building new habits is staying consistent. It doesn’t matter how well you perform on any individual day. Sustained effort is what makes the real difference.

For that reason, when you start a new habit it should be so easy that you can’t say no to it. In fact, when you’re starting a new behavior is should be so easy that it’s almost laughable." 

This reminded me of a lesson earlier that day on the Junior High All Region music. I asked my 8th grade boy how he did on a recent test of it. He said, "Not well." I asked him about the feedback he got. He said he was told he needed more work with the metronome. For the rest of our lesson, we went measure by measure syncing up his notes and performance with the objective, unchanging metronome beat. 

I encouraged him to practice this way. If he approaches the problem measure by measure, he'll have the whole thing mastered in pieces. After that, it's just a matter of putting the pieces together. When the pieces are together, the entire etude will be mastered.

I consider how this is slow work, and I compared it to the 'slowness' of raising children. I thought about how I tell my students to be patient in the slow nature of mastering their All Region etudes. I thought about how I should tell myself to be patient in the slow nature of becoming healthy and shedding 50 pounds.

I also thought about how people today do not want to be slow. Here are examples of our desires to get through things quickly: 

1. Wanting to drive everywhere, instead of walking, biking, or taking the train (not including those with long commutes)
2. Desiring faster phones and internet connections
3. The present relief of watching tv series online versus the ancient agony of waiting for a new episode every week (these next generations will be so spoiled...)
4. Retrieving knowledge from Wikipedia. Who needs to study or learn anymore? Or read a book?
5. Drive-thru's and dining out instead of the tediousness of grocery shopping, meal planning, and home cooking
6. Microwaves versus Ovens and Stoves

I think what really matters in life are the things that take a lot of time. I'm afraid people are forgetting that, though. We're a very fast society, and one that's used to 'instant' mode. How can everything we want happen now? What would we do with the next 60 years of life? Will we desire even more to fill our days and years? What is life like for gluttons of experience and pleasures? 

I suppose that's what I'll be working on for the next year: slowing down. I'm going to try and relearn what minutes and seconds really feel like; live life in real time. (And maybe thrown away facebook and my iPhone, but that'll be another post someday.)

Ah, and before I forget: Today I went out to Tyler, Texas with two brass buds and recorded some stuff for the new Say Anything album. Super fun! That's one of my favorite environments to work in. I'll keep everyone posted about it when the album comes out.

Goodbyes

Alright, you will have to forgive me. It's been a very long week, and I am (as my British friends would say) KNACKERED. I'm going to write this as quickly as I can while I'm still feeling the spirit of the evening.

Tonight I finished up a short run of the musical Nine with Lyric Stage. We had loads of fun being on stage with the actors and pouring ourselves out through the lush orchestrations.

I started thinking this afternoon about other last performances in my life. I flashed back to middle school years. I used to get real sad about performing pieces for the last time, especially at Region or band camp concerts.

I don't really mourn last performances anymore. I suppose I've been playing long enough now that 'lasts' don't feel new or out of the ordinary anymore. It's just part of the whole process of being a musician:

1. Learning
2. Editing
3. Mastering
4. Performing (Showcasing, Displaying, however you want to look at it)
5. Finishing (Ending, Leaving, Departing, etc...)

Endings are just part of the cycle of my musical life now. I find it to be no sad thing. For when this thing ends, another begins - and usually it's right around the corner! There is no time to mourn an end!

In 39 minutes I will say goodbye to the last day of my 27th year of life. I'm not sad about that either. Another year means another part of my life. The cycle continues on.

Good night. Love you all. Thank you for reading.

All Region Tunes! All District Tunes!

They're here!!

These will also be found permanently on the "CLIPS" page - which you can find up top. These are downloadable! Just click download. :)

Here is Selection One:

Slow version...





Fast version...




Selection Two is coming tomorrow!

ALL REGION!! ALL DISTRICT!!

HEY!

If you're here for Richardson's Jr High All Region stuff or Garland's Middle School All District stuff...


STAY TUNED

The tunes will be posted later tonight.

That is all.

:)

Activities of Legacy - What we've been up to this Summer

The longer I play with these boys, the more I find myself enjoying our tasks. We have a lot of fun, and I can tell everyone in the quintet loves what they do. Everyone also is pretty darn good (and that's good). 

I am continually comforted by the realization that I'm doing professionally now as an adult what I dreamed and longed for as a kid. I'm not at the end yet, and I certainly haven't achieved all my goals yet. But I will. 

Oh, I will.

The following are some snaps I took at a couple of our summer activities - a Catholic wedding out in Wichita Falls and a brass clinic we just completed this week in Bridgeport, TX. I was so moved at how well we were received in Bridgeport - and, come to think of it, at the wedding in Wichita Falls. People seem to be truly blessed hearing us play. I love that. I think that's a good sign that we're doing good things. 

Wedding...

Bridgeport...

I hope one day I can do a lot of touring. I enjoyed meeting and talking to some of our audience members after our Bridgeport concert. They asked me questions about what I'm doing and my professional work, but we also talked some about life (in Bridgeport and other places). I love people and I love music. Hope to get more of both as time marches on.

Brass Playing is a Struggle

Ran into an old friend of mine recently. He's a horn player as well, and he made the comment "Brass playing is a struggle." Boy I really agreed with him. That's all I've been feeling this year - a struggle!

And sometimes I feel like this:

Anyways. This is nice:

Goodnight!

Seeing Beyond

I finished reading The Giver last week.

I read the book because I kept referencing it to my kids in lessons. I realized that since the last time I read the book was 2008 or so I should read it again. (I wanted to make sure I knew what it was I was referencing.)

The story is about a futuristic society that has worked out all the 'kinks' in life. Everybody is extremely pleasant and cordial to each other as they follow detailed and legalistic codes for daily life. There is no pain, no warfare, no starvation. All aspects of life for every individual are carefully constructed and designed by a group of elders. I think I remember reading only 50 new children (max) are born each year - I suppose to control population growth. All is 'Sameness'. There is no weather, no true emotion, no deep thought, and nobody can see in color (or hear music, we find out later).

But one boy, illustrated in the picture above, begins to see in color. He can See Beyond.

Seeing Beyond is what I'm referencing to my kids these days. It's the phenomenon in music, or any practice, when perception of a thing begins to change because one has been looking at it hard enough for a long enough time. Specifically, this concept is coming in handy for my high schoolers that are working on transposition. At some point, I tell them, you will look at a C, but you will see a B-Flat. You will See Beyond.

Another reference I've used this semester is the scene from the Matrix where Neo comes back to life. After his resurrection he can See Beyond. He can see the true reality. If you need a refresher, here is a clip:

I'm still growing on my horn (I hope I never stop!), and there are many things I'm learning and relearning. I had my own Seeing Beyond experience this year. I was working in a musical that had a two week run. In the second week, in maybe my 30th hour of playing through the musical, things looked and felt differently. I felt as if I was peering down the lead pipe of my horn and could actually see the music I was making. Before, I could hear what I was playing; and I even felt it. But then, after, it was as if I could see the musical sounds I made. 

I'm certain that on the surface this all sounds pretty ridiculous. However, to truly know something, I believe one must know it in every aspect. We have five senses, don't we? Hearing, Taste, Smell, Touch, and Sight. What if you knew your craft deeply with every sense you possess? (True, this Seeing Beyond may be less with the eyeball and more with the mind's eye. That makes me wonder if we have a mind's ear/mouth/nose...) 

This is obtained after a long period of looking at the subject at hand. Neo had to crawl before he walked. He had to throw himself off a building and fight lots of bad guys. He even had to die before he could open his eyes and see things the way they really were. But then, after two hours of filmtime, Neo arose as the man he was made to be. He saw floating numbers, defeated Mr. Smith, and saved humanity.

This kind of seeing, thinking, and processing through whatever you are doing will make you a deeper musician and person. So go deeper! Look at something long enough so that you can See Beyond!

Spinet

I like the piano. 

I can't decide if I feel more natural on a piano or on the horn. My parents started me out on the instrument when I was 5 or so. I began lessons on our Lester Betsy Ross Spinet - a piano real similar to the video posted above. I might be inheriting our family's old piano, so I've been looking it up online lately. Just now I was sitting here trying to decide if I like that, as my friend Vicky put it, "honky talk" sound. 

It's funny, I can't say whether or not I like it, but for some reason it sounds like home. This piano sound is what I grew up with - what I grew up touching with my fingers. I watched this video in particular and thought, "Yep. That's what I played all my Mozart and boogie-woogies on."

All my life I've dreamt of having a home with a real-life piano in it. Whether I get the old Reno piano or find another to write my own history on, it'll be real interesting dissecting the sounds as an adult ...figuring out how it works in the space of my home-to-be ...figuring out how it sounds through a mic. 

And so on.

Why I Probably Couldn't be a Classroom Teacher

Yep. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this. I've spent a lot of time telling people about this. I'm really not interested in teaching a classroom full of kids right now (that could change though). I love the one-on-one time with my horn students. I love how in depth we get with our lessons. I love how I can have a brief period of time to get to know each and every one of them!

I believe by knowing what type of kid I'm teaching horn to, I can better explain things in the language they'll understand. I can discuss rhythm differently and on higher levels with my math wiz kids. I can talk about music as a structure or language to some of my more 'humanities' inclined students.

I think I finally figured out what one of my Jr High kids is - or at least might be... a programmer. Periodically we talk about his favorite class where he builds robots that do stuff.  Today I asked how he made robots do things. "I just program things into the computer that tell it what to do."

Brilliant! I've got a little programmer on my hands! Then I realized later... how the heck do I converse with a programmer? That is a whole world I've never really understood.

So I'm sending this question to anyone reading this: how do programmers think? How do they see the world? Are any of you out there a programmer or close friends to one? Married to one? What have you experienced?

Anyways, I'll wrap this up by posting a link to a board on my pinterest. (You can follow all my boards here.) I figure my 'classroom' is just practice room after practice room until I graduate to having my own studio one day. Here's a look at my dream music/practice rooms:

One of my favorites is this one:

September 1969. “Practice Room:
the bright way to a sound-absorbing studio.
There’s rush matting on the walls
and an underfoot of sunny, shaggy carpeting.” Perfect!

I'm such a retro girl at heart.

What Do You Want?

Happy Beautiful Thursday everyone!

I am currently sitting outside in the back yard. This is an uncommon joy for me since I usually teach during the daytime. Lucky for me my junior high-ers are busy testing today, so I have a few hours to myself. Double points for today because it is a gorgeous 61 degrees out. 

This bit of time is a nice relief. This semester has been a busy one for me. I've acquired new students (RHS! Woo!), had a couple of musical gigs (South Pacific at Lake Highlands and a two-week Les Miserables run), accompanied several students for Solo and Ensemble, and recorded as much as I could for music festival auditions. Oh! Can't forget joining Legacy Brass! During the last month I was leaving to teach from 8-2ish (sometimes to 4pm) and then heading out for Les Mis or other rehearsals. I didn't walk through my door again until 10pm on some nights. 

I won't lie: this life style is wearing. I love teaching, and I love playing. But 14 hours days can be a lot, especially when you have many in a row. That's why these past 10 days or so have been a nice breather for me. There's one topic of discussion in my lessons right now, since All Region/Solo and Ensemble are done: I ask my kids, "What do you want for next year?"

This started as a practical question on my part. I needed to know what the kids expected, desired, and aspired for their next year in band. I see it as part of my job to help them get to where they want to go - wherever that may be. I needed to know so that I would have a good idea of how to proceed forward in my teaching (I'm still a newbie at this). 

After two days of asking kids this question, I noticed I mostly got two types of answers.

The first answer was purposeful, unquestionably confident, and full of delight. I think some of my kids were actually delighted to be asked what they wanted, as if they already had ambitions and goals to meet for their next year in band. They were ready to share what had been decided within. With excitement, the student and I would plan out objectives for the 2013-2014 school year. (I'm excited because this feeds my band-nerd-iness.)

The second kind of answer was a shrug. 

What! A shrug? I can't plan my curriculum and methods on a shrug. I pressed on further.

"What do you want? We can do anything. Do you want to go up a band? Make All Region? Get a 1 at Solo and Ensemble?"

More shrugs. Maybe an "I dunno. I guess. Yeah."

Nothing! There was nothing in these answers. No spark, and certainly no ambition. No personality. And maybe the saddest one of all: no desire. Nothing. My questions dropped with a thud. Like a miss-sacked hackey sack.  

I found myself trying to assure them that they could have whatever they wanted. Obviously it means they'd have to work for it. My point, though, was that they had someone on their side that was committed to helping them get where they wanted to go - a pretty valuable someone at that. (I posses the secrets to horn playing... muahahahaaaaaa.)

This is a little discouraging, but not totally - if a kid doesn't want to do anything we'll just play scales and rhythms all day long. However it did get me thinking about myself and my life.

But there must be a reason why the kids shrugged when I asked them what they want. It can be a tough question to answer! Here's why:

1. They don't know what they want. 
2. They are afraid to admit what they want. 
3. They don't believe they can have what they want.
4. There is no point. To any of this. (i.e. - they do not care)

There's probably more, but I'll leave it with these four.

I wondered if I've asked myself the same question recently. "What do I want?" I realized last week that this is a question not just for horn students grades 7-12. Everybody on the planet needs to ask or be asked this question. The question needs to be asked because there not many other ways to get what you want unless you know what it is you want. I thought on this some more. If I need to ask the same question I'm asking my kids, then which of the two responses will I have? It is a choice, and I can choose how to respond to such a question. (for the record, I choose the first kind of answer)

It comes down to this: we all have desires. It doesn't matter the size or ambition of the desire, but we all want stuff. I believe the best thing is to express -  to oneself and to others - what one wants. Stuff doesn't get done when it sits quietly and untouched inside of people. It has to get out, so get it out! Tell people. Tell yourself! Write it down and stick it on your wall. Then you get to be told of your desires every time you look at it!

1. Don't know what you want? Then spend some time thinking about it. Spend some time with your family and friends. You'll see them doing what they want, and it may inspire you to find what you want. 
2. Are you afraid to admit what you want? Grab a confidant. Grab your closest friend or a bosom body. You may need someone you can open up to in order to get those juices flowing. You may need another person to walk you through what you want. 
3. You need to believe you can have what you want. Despair and self-pity is a mucky bog. I've spent a lot of time trying to convince some friends of mine that they could have spectacular lives, but I don't think they ever listened. Some people find it easier to sink low than to soar high. I don't think very much happiness is found in those low places. 
4. There's no point? Wrong! There is a point! As long as you are alive, there will always be a point. Try really hard to not end up as a 77 year old person that looks back and sees a life with no point. 

I wrote this earlier, but this is true for all: I said to the unsure kids "What do you want? We can do anything." Whether or not you're able to see it, there are folks all around you very willing to help you get where you want to go. That is a great resource for your life. 

Accept help when it comes your way, and look for help when it seems you have none. 

You can always have help. You can have what you want.

If you do all this, then stuff will start to happen in your life. Then stuff will get done. 

To put my money where my mouth is, I'll leave you with a few of pictures of what I want. :)

Currently trying to figure out if I 'want' short hair.

Big want: a husband and kids.
If we end up on a farm and the dude
is like a young Paul McCartney...
well then ok. :)

Legacy Brass

Good evening friends! I have some exciting news...

I have been invited to join the ranks of Dallas/Ft Worth's Legacy Brass Quintet! I sat in on a rehearsal recently and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. I was delighted to hear this weekend that they enjoyed having me with them! 

I am very honored to be a part of this quintet as they are all excellent players with amazing experience behind each of them. I LOVE brass ensembles and I'm really quite stoked to get to work with one professionally. These guys in particular have a great business plan and vision for what they want to accomplish as a group. That is the sort of thing I definitely love to be a part of.

You can check out their website here: http://legacybrassquintet.com/

Hopefully this new step in my musical profession will encourage me to get back on the saddle and start keeping this site better. I have a lot of ideas in my head, and I need to get them fleshed out for you all - especially my students. Too bad life is wonderfully busy and keeps me occupied (more than I want to be sometimes).

So Long 2012!

Merry (post) Christmas everyone!

The New Year is just days away. I've been having a very lovely break with my family. Hope it's been lovely for all of you!

New year turnovers are always the time for resolutions and new inspirations and motivations. Look what I've been eyeing this afternoon!

Mmm, yes. Beautiful new mouthpieces. These are Paxman mouthpieces. I used to play on a 2B that I bought off a fellow horn player (for £20, woop!) when I lived in Liverpool. Unfortunately it was lost almost year ago; I have a feeling I absentmindedly left it in one of the schools I taught in. 

That 2B was a great little mouthpiece, and there was something comforting about having an all-Paxman getup. Therefore today I took the plunge and found online a 2B mouthpiece and no. 2, 3, 4 rims to experiment on. 

Currently I use a Moosewood B mouthpiece (C backbore) with an M5 rim. A bit straight down the road in terms of size. It's not that this one isn't working out for me, but I'd like to spend a little time on a Paxman mouthpiece again. You'll run into horn players that are always looking for "The One" - the holy grail of metal that we stick on our faces. I don't know if such a thing exists. I'm more interested in finding my "Old Reliable." I played on a Lawson mouthpiece for 10 years. I'd like to find one I will be happy to use for the next 10 years. 

I'll keep you all posted. Mouthpiece work is fascinating, and it certainly makes a difference in the sound you get out of your horn - and all brass instruments for that matter!

One final thing.....

New Year's Resolution(s)? I know one right off the top of my head: I need to start getting some videos up here. That'll be something I experiment with in 2013....