The Ren's Nest

new blog

2007-11-29T08:28:00.000-07:00

Hi Reader(s)!

New computer=new blog. I'm going to take this one down when I figure out the best way to archive it on my computer (any suggestions are welcome from you more experienced bloggers). My new blog is called "Brass Tax" and you can find it at www.taxedbrass.blogspot.com

I would imagine most of the subject matter will stay the same. I just felt it was time for a change....

Hope you're well!

Love,

The Ren

Things that have happened since I last upgraded my OS

2007-11-21T07:59:00.000-07:00

Sorry the blog has been so quite as of late, Reader(s). I guess I just haven't had that much to write about. I've had a few ideas driving home late at night on I-95, but by the time I get back, I'm not in the mood to wax poetic (or un-poetic as the case may be) about freelancing, or music, or anything. I'm preparing for another audition in a little over a week, so I'm really only interested in talking or thinking about music. I'm not spending much time with other people, which means that the only person I can bore with my thoughts on Ein Heldenleben is myself. I think it might be better that way.

My Dell is finally starting to kick it, and given that I've had it since 2002, I don't blame it for wanting to go where computers go to die. I've moved eleven times since I got this computer, if you include month-long interim living arrangements with friends and family. Four of those moves were over 1000 miles, and one of those was "international." Since I bought this computer I have finished my undergraduate degree, master's degree, and (dumb) diploma, won three jobs, lost one, lost the ability to play, and got it back again. I don't even want to think about how many people I've dated. And another thing... when I got this computer, 30 MB was HUGE.

2002 was a long time ago.

SO!!! I'm finally buying a new computer on Friday morning-- yes, this Friday. Black Friday. I am going to go to Best Buy at 5 a.m. for the "Doorbusters" sale because J. found a leaked ad that has the greatest deal on a new computer EVER. I really wanted a Mac this time, but its just not in the cards. Especially with a price like this. My plan, though, is to go in, buy the computer, stand in line, and leave. I will not get caught up in the deals. I will not think about doing any shopping for anything else. Under no circumstances will I enter another store. I will simply go into Best Buy, get the thing, and come home and go back to bed (or possibly make myself some coffee and play with my new toy).

But before then, I'm going to brave the traffic getting out of Philly on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and go home to hang with the family. Just a short trip this time, I'll be back in the Illadelph tomorrow evening to fit in some more practicing and anticipation of my new toy. I hope you are all well and that your holiday seasons are off to a Schlock-tacular start. My Christmas Craptacular season starts next week with the Kennett Symphony's Holiday show and doesn't end until New Years.

And if you're lucky, Reader(s), I'll tell you about my hilarious foray into contracting a Christmas Eve gig. This one might take the biscuit....

2007-11-07T19:24:00.000-07:00

I was walking back to my apartment today after meeting a friend for lunch. I heard sirens, not an uncommon occurrence in any city, but especially not in Philadelphia as of late. As I was about to cross Arch Street, I noticed a procession of police cars, and as I looked around some more, noticed that traffic had been stopped and pedestrians were being stopped from crossing the street. It dawned on me then that today was the day of the funeral for a Philadelphia police officer shot in the line of duty one week ago.

I watched at least 200 cop cars pass, and that was probably not even half of them. It was poignant-- the cars were from all over the southeastern Pennsylvania area as well as New Jersey, New York, and Maryland. And it was sad. And it was poignant to watch his colleagues and comrades turn out from miles away to honor his service and his life.

The man who killed this officer was caught in Miami yesterday and will be extradited to Philadelphia on Friday. He confessed to the murder and he's probably facing a life in prison.

But as I watched more and more cars speed past, I began to get angry. Now, to be clear, I agree that it is a tragedy when a police officer (or any law enforcement civil servant) is killed. But I would also like to point out that when you decide to become a cop, getting killed is always a possibility. It is a dangerous job, especially in a city as plagued by violence and gun crime. It is absolutely awful that this officer was killed. But it is no exaggeration when I say that innocent people are dying EVERY SINGLE DAY in this city because of guns. And they aren't cops. They didn't choose lives or careers that involved carrying a gun or confronting violence head on.

I agree that cops and firefighters are heroes, and that this was an appropriate send-off.

I can't help but think that if the City of Philadelphia spent even half as much effort trying to curb city-wide violence as they did prosecuting the individual who killed one of their own, that maybe, just maybe, this city would be a better place to live.

Yes, but does it make you sweat?

2007-10-20T10:28:00.000-06:00

I spent my junior year of high school as an exchange student in Finland. Why do I bring it up? Because the Finns invented the sauna and they won't have you forget it. The sauna is a cultural phenomenon in Finland. Every household has at least one, some have two or three! The Finns believe that the sauna will heal what ails you, and by the end of my time in Finland, I believed it too. There's something about sweating out your demons, throwing water on hot rocks, and trying to get an 8'x10' room to 150 degrees (F) that will heal you. I don't pretend to understand it, but I think it works.

So I decided to try Bikram yoga, where they heat the room to 105 degrees (F) and keep the relative humidity around 40-60%. I've had trouble finding an Ashtanga studio in Philly that lives up to my unreasonably high standards, and had heard a lot about Bikram. A colleague of mine recommended a Bikram studio in Center City with a huge number of classes and a schedule that allowed me enough flexibility to pick when I wanted to go every day. The whole thing sounded crazy to me, but I decided to give it a whirl.

Now, at the risk of giving you too much information, I'm not really a person who sweats a lot. I always say something cheeky like, "I'm a chic. I don't sweat. I glow." But trust me, in Bikram, you SWEAT. I've been to three classes so far, but at each class I thought, "I have never sweat this much in my life." I really didn't think I would like it. And I still don't love it like I love Ashtanga. I had it in my head that it would be extremely difficult. But its no more difficult than Ashtanga, except that you are sweating like there is no tomorrow.

I'm still keeping my eyes and ears out for an Ashtanga studio, but what one particularly wonderful teacher said in last night's class was this: "It doesn't matter how far into the pose you can get. What matters is that you come back tomorrow."

So I'm going to keep going back, at least for as long as I can. One of the best things I get out of yoga right now is patience-- patience to get into each pose and hold it, and patience to let my body heal and restore itself.

Namaste, y'all.

Real music

2007-10-10T08:47:00.000-06:00

This afternoon I'm subbing in on a show that I've been intermittently playing for the last few weeks and then I'm off to West Chester to play with a local orchestra. Not a FANTASTIC group, but they don't suck either. And they're really really nice, which actually counts for a lot in my book. We're playing Rhapsody in Blue (snore) and Copland's Symphony No. 3. Now, I don't care if I never play Rhapsody again, but can I just try to explain to you how excited I am to play real music? Not some crappy Broadway compilation, and not some silly Motown show, but REAL music? There is at least one person I know in the section and I'm looking forward to being down bell from him. Not only a great player, but a funny guy. I'm playing THIRD, which will be new and different. I haven't played third horn in a REALLY long time. For those of you horn players out there thinking "But that's a high part! I thought she was having trouble with her high range?" Well, that's the part that was assigned to me, and frankly, I'm looking forward to it. I know I can handle it, as my chops have been improving steadily. My high C seems to have come back after an extended vacation (I think he said he's been in "Maui," but he might have said "Malawi.") There's a glitch every once in awhile, but I feel exponentially stronger every day.

Anyway, I was trying to explain what its like to play real, symphonic, orchestral music after a summer and early fall of almost exclusively pops shows.

Have you ever gone a really long time without eating at your favorite restaurant? Then one day, you're walking down the street and its lunchtime and you realize you have just enough time to avail yourself of that burrito you've been craving? And then you get excited and start thinking about what you're going to have on that burrito? Its kinda like that.

Or have you ever decided that you are going to stop drinking coffee? And then after about two weeks of headaches you realize that it was a stupid idea anyway? Then you stop by your favorite coffee shop and have a cup of dark roast and the first taste of it is PERFECTION? Its kinda like that.

Have you ever gone a month without seeing your love and then you meet him at the airport and fall into his arms and everything is perfect again? Okay, I don't think Copland 3 is going to be quite THAT good. But it'll be close.

THAT is how I feel today. I really do love playing the horn, especially now that I can do it again. FINALLY.

Aren't you tired of this yet?

2007-10-07T17:16:00.000-06:00

Seriously, isn't everyone sick of Phantom of the Opera yet? For real, people. I do realize that for every one time the audience hears me participate in this particular tome of musical theatre, I have probably played it at least three times, usually more like six. So that's a 1:6 ratio of them hearing it to me playing it. So I can see why I might dislike it MORE than your average pops audience member. But still, why is it that you can't play a Broadway themed pops show without Phantom. Would they riot if it wasn't on the program? Do they know something I don't know?

I've been playing some concerts with this guy. If you bother to read his bio you'll see that he was in Phantom. Of course, Phantom has been running so long its hard to imagine that anyone HASN'T been in it. But I digress. After his rendition of Music of the Night today, the audience went APESHIT. I happened to notice a woman and her husband in the front row of the mezzanine who popped up before the orchestra had even finished the last chord, hooting and hollering. The woman obviously had tears in her eyes and I saw her mouth the words, "Amazing. Just amazing."

Really? For real? Was it THAT good? I mean, okay, he hit all the pitches. He didn't forget the words. He didn't come in a measure early like he did in the Cats medley in the first half. We'll give him a point or two for that. But "amazing?" I don't know. Maybe I'm a jaded, cynical, snob. Or maybe I just have really high standards. Or maybe I'm just out of touch. But I'm really okay with all that, at least this time. I don't like to get all snotty "oh I could do that" or whatever. Sure, there's a part of me that's a Broadway star. But that part of me only comes out when no one is around, or in the car driving down the turnpike late at night. I don't think I could do what they do. But that's partly because having to sing "Phantom" every week would possibly drive me batty.

I only have one run out show left for this particular series, and while it wasn't that bad, I'm happy to not have to hear Peter Nero's jokes for a few days. I'm also happy I don't have to play the never-ending Richard Rogers Medley. While it is certainly one of the better ones I've ever played (I love the transition into "Climb Every Mountain"... genius, I tell you) I found myself humming it last night and couldn't get it out of my head. That gets old QUICKLY.

Its unseasonably warm in Philly, and I'm looking forward to some fall weather. I went apple picking last week and came home with a bushel of apples, which is enough to make about 10 gallons of applesauce. So if any of you are hungry, please, come join me for a bowl!

There's nothing Philly loves more....

2007-09-30T19:59:00.000-06:00

Those who know me know that I really could not care less about sports. I tried to like hockey for cultural reasons when I lived in Finland. It was alright, but it never stuck. I'm sure that AB has recollections of trying to help me understand football during our high school marching band days. I'm sure he'll be the first to agree that I just never really cared enough to learn what "First Down" meant. I've tried to watch the Superbowl a few times, but have found that sports announcers voices tend to lull me into a pleasant sleep. So, as you can imagine, baseball does not interest me at all.

I ran into one of my neighbors while waiting for the subway last night. He introduced me to his girlfriend and said they were going to the game.

"What game?" I said. He looked at me with a slightly horrified expression.

"What game? The Phillies!"

"Oh."

So you see, Reader(s), I just don't care about baseball. There was another game today, in Philadelphia. This time I didn't need to be told. I noticed the people on the train, dressed up in their Phillies best. Turns out today's game was the clincher... The Phils are division champs.

I played a concert today in Verizon Hall in the Kimmel Center. Start time was 3:00. Based on what I have observed about Philadelphia, I would not have been surprised if no one showed up. 3:00 was the start time for the Phillies Game. Based on the fact that the Phillies are the losing-est team in the history of sports (with over 10,000 losses!), I never would have guessed they'd get this far. I'm betting I'm not the only one who thought that.

So, we've established that I don't know or care about baseball. But I do care about Philadelphia. And if there is one thing that Philly loves, its when Philly does good. When the score was announced at intermission, the crowd went WILD. I felt like I was actually IN the stadium, not at a pops concert, of all things. After the show, Peter Nero came out and announced that the Phillies had won-- even I was happy. Upon exiting the hall, it was easy to see that the entire city had gone ape-shit.

Philadelphia has problems. Lots of problems. It is has the highest violent crime rate of any city in America. Its so dirty it makes New York City look pristine. The Mayor is useless and the rest of the politicians are pretty corrupt. But what I love about Philadelphia is that it an honest place, with people who love it for its humble "We're not New York!" attitude.

There is an honesty about this city that I love. And there's nothing I like more than seeing everyone in Philly think that this city is as great as I do.

I've always wanted to do this.

2007-09-28T08:40:00.000-06:00

Its not called freelancing because I work for free.

2007-09-26T09:12:00.000-06:00

Its a fun week to be a freelancer here at the Ren's Nest. After logging about 13,000 frequent flier miles in the past six weeks, its nice to be home for awhile. It seems that my freelance career wasn't hurt by being away for a year, which was something that I had feared. In fact, my work has become more centralized in Philadelphia thanks to somehow finding myself in the good graces of a very prominent contractor in the City of Brotherly Love. While the gigs aren't "high art" by any means, they fit in the "entertainment" category, playing with some good musicians that make for a good time. And, I never have to get in my car! Its all subway commuting for me! (Except for a runout to Trenton on Saturday, but I can handle that!) So while the subway is smellier and dirtier than my car (hard to believe, but true), it means never having to find a parking spot in Old City and rare trips to the pumps.

The first of the gigs this week is as a sub for the Sondheim musical "Assassins." Now, I happen to like musical theatre, but even if I didn't, this is a great show. Its incredibly intelligent and the actors in this company are top notch. I'm also incredibly impressed with the conducting skills of the music director. To play the keyboard parts and still manage to keep track of the actors and the seven members of the pit and remain clear as daylight is, lets say, comfortable, for all involved. Now, perhaps my impression is just colored by the fact that I've been playing OCP all summer with the most incompetent, unclear, and awful "conductor" to ever walk the planet. Nah. That couldn't be it.

The second of gigs this week is the Philly Pops. I've never played with this organization before, but I've heard its a fun one. You might ask if I'm tired of all the @#$%$@#%^ pops music I've been playing in the past months. And the answer would be yes. I am. But mostly what I'm tired of is playing shit. Actually, I am finding lately that I don't really care what it is I'm playing if the quality is good and the players act remotely professional. Would I rather be playing Mahler? Duh. I don't mind being the "entertainment" sometimes. I think the only thing I really truly object to is the patriotic 9/11 memorial shows. They kinda make me wanna barf.

It is hard to get used to being a freelancer again after being "gainfully employed" for a year. Those steady paychecks sure were nice. And so was the health care. But there are a lot of things that I like about freelancing, too. I like being able to turn down work (not that I do a lot of that, but theoretically I could if I wanted to). I like the variety, and I like meeting lots of new people. I like running into people on gigs who I haven't seen in awhile, and I like not really having many morning rehearsals. So this is okay for now. It'll be more okay when I get my next paycheck and I'm not DIRT POOR. But I don't really mind the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Oh, and since a number of you have asked recently, my chops are getting better at a rapid rate. My high range is more and more reliable every day. I don't think I'll be taking any principal horn auditions for awhile yet, but I think I might again at some point.

Fall is my favorite season, especially in Philly. How about you guys?

Where can I get one of these?

2007-09-25T10:35:00.000-06:00

So, I was looking for a rumored video clip of Rossen Milanov's Bulgarian cooking show on YouTube. Alas, no dice yet, but I did find this. I want one!

Thoughts on playing the horn... at all.

2007-09-13T21:32:00.000-06:00

My trip to Madison last weekend was everything I thought it would be, with the added bonus of seeing SM and laughing so hard my sides hurt. I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard and that long. Making new friends is a great feeling, but seeing old ones is just so satisfying. Its great to reunite with people after a few years and pick up where you left off with so little effort.

It was also great to see DH. For all the issues that we may have had at one point, I think they're pretty much resolved now. DH is one of the kindest, most compassionate people in the world, and he just happens to be able to diagnose a problem. For as analytical and heady as he can be (to a fault as many of us know), he has given so much thought to teaching and creating a safe environment for his students over the years that I can't think of a better person to help fix problems.

And they aren't gone. He's a great teacher, but he certainly isn't a miracle drug. But he provided the most succinct and thoughtful advice that anyone has given in awhile. He got into my head, but it was alright. I wanted him there. I needed DH to figure out how I'd gotten to where I am, and to let me know that he had the utmost faith that I'd get through it in tact, and a better horn player BECAUSE of it, not in spite of it. It was also incredibly helpful to talk to someone who knows my playing. Although I've gotten some pretty good (and, arguably, pretty bad) advice from other individuals, playing for DH was different. History is what was keeping me from seeking his help and advice in the first place, but ended up being the thing that helped me the most.

I have a local audition this Saturday and the Portland audition on Tuesday. While I feel pretty prepared for the local one, I feel a little out of my league for Portland, admittedly. I knew when I booked the flight, however, that there was a chance I'd just be showing up to get my deposit check back. I don't feel as prepared as I would like. And I hope to do everything I can in the next few days to remedy that as much as possible, but Rome wasn't built in a day. I have modest hopes for my first foray back onto the audition circuit.

So if you'll excuse me, I have to go think about fourth horn excerpts some more.

Isn't it time to let it go?

2007-09-11T22:35:00.000-06:00

Okay, here's my disclaimer, Reader(s). I think the tragedies that occured on September 11, 2001 were absolutely awful. I have personally never witnessed anything like it in my lifetime, and hope nothing like it ever happens again. I have heard my grandparents talk about the bombing of Pearl Harbor and my parents talking about JFK's assassination. I wasn't born when Three Mile Island almost melted us all, and I wasn't quite old enough to remember the Challenger explosion. So 9/11 is the first moment in the living history of the United States of America that I remember. It's my first "Where were you when...." story.

Today marks the sixth anniversary of the collapse of the World Trade Center and the other tragedies surrounding it. And I just came home from what is becoming an annual event for the Pops Orchestra: The 9/11 Tribute Concert. I'm sure you can imagine what this entails:

The SSB sung by a cappella by a fairly inept and somewhat tone deaf local high school student. Actually, in hindsight it's probably better that she sang it a cappella. That way she could modulate as much as she wanted ( i.e. drift horribly flat) and it didn't matter as much to the untrained ear. I do think she picked a starting pitch that was a little on the high side, as evidenced by the last note in particular. The SSB is not easy to sing, and I'm certainly not the first person to point this out. America should take a lesson from Canada on this one. Canada has a really nice, very singable national anthem. Actually, most countries do.

God Bless the USA This is the 80s song with the lyrics "I'm proud to be an American, Where at least I know I'm free, blah blah" This song makes me want to hurl.

America the Beautiful Nice tune. Nice words. Bad modulations in this particular arrangement, but I'm actually willing to overlook that since I generally think this is a pretty song that's entirely appropriate. Easy to sing WELL too.

What a Wonderful World Now, this one confuses me. Singing that tune on 9/11? Next thing you know, in the words of my friend Luigi, we'll be walking around saying "Happy 9/11!" to each other. I know that the occasion doesn't necessarily call for completely somber music. I think Barber's Adagio got a little too much play in the weeks following the WTC's demise. But really, "What a Wonderful World?" I think that's pushing the envelope a little too far in the wrong direction. The irony in this one was just too much for my little brain. Oh, and it was sung by the tone deaf soprano, the one who sang the SSB. She did attempt to modulate down by about a 1/2 step, but the orchestra wasn't going with her, so she decided it best to go back up again.

You'll Never Walk Alone from the musical "Carousel" sung by the aforementioned tone deaf singer. Not a bad tune. Even if you don't think you know this one, I'm fairly sure you do. Thankfully, she didn't have opportunity to attempt modulation in this one.

Some newish piece written by a local composer who shall remain unnamed. This is not a person that you've ever heard of, but I would hate to trash him and have it come up in a Google Search. Suffice it to say that it was worse than any composition I have ever played at those God-awful composer reading sessions that we used to do in school. I'm not exaggerating. He wrote it as a memorial piece, post 9/11. It really never should have left the house.

Stephen Foster and George Cohan medleys What's a national tragedy without some good, happy medleys that include songs like "Sewanee River" and "Give My Regards to Broadway"?

Marches. Three of 'em.

The Armed Forces Salute I have to say, I don't mind this part. I think its nice to honor the men and women who have served in the military. It also gives the audience a chance to clap, which the Pops audiences seem to thoroughly enjoy. No one seems to know the Coast Guard anthem, though. However, that doesn't seem to stop them from clapping along.

God Bless America I don't know how this got to be the unofficial national anthem post 9/11, but I hate it. Actually, come to think of it, it probably has something to do with the fact that the SSB is unsingable, as I mentioned. But I digress. This song offends me. One of the main points of America, I think, is that you don't HAVE to want God to bless it. You don't have to stand beside her or guide her or whatever. "Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses longing to be free" is pretty self explanatory. It doesn't say "Give us your conservative, Christian, Heterosexual masses who aren't going to question the authority of the government." I'm on my soapbox, I'm now going to step off of it.

So, here's my point: Isn't it time we put this stuff down? Isn't all the hullabaloo getting a bit exhausting? I know that this is still very fresh and very raw for families who suffered losses, and my heart goes out to them. But isn't it time for them to mourn in private? Isn't it time that we put the flags at half mast, observed a national moment of silence, and then left the rest up to each individual? The constant bombardment by the media has certainly lessened as each year goes by, but hasn't everything been said? Perhaps I'm wrong and insensitive, but this seems over the top to me.

So what am I supposed to put on my resume?

2007-09-05T21:32:00.000-06:00

One of the nicer things to happen to me since my return to Philadelphia was the return of one of my freelancing gigs, The Haddonfield Symphony. I ran into this guy at the Kimmel Center and he very graciously offered my job back, which was surprising to me, since I subbed out of this organization more than I actually played. But it worked for the best, since I do a lot of daytime gigs for this group, like brass and woodwind quintet outreach concerts. I'm not complaining, I was just a little surprised.

Yesterday, five of the brass players were asked to play a fanfare for the "Name Change Press Conference." The Haddonfield Symphony has been performing in Camden for the last year, and does outreach all across the state of New Jersey, so Haddonfield was a bit of a misnomer. I figured that the new name would be something along the lines of "Symphony Camden" or "Camden Philharmonic." As non-plussed as I might have been to have America's Most Dangerous City on my resume, it would have been a more accurate representation of the group.

When I picked up DM, our trombone player, he asked if I'd heard what the new name was. "No," I replied, "What?"

"Symphony in C."

Long pause.

"You're kidding, right?" I said.

"Nope."

***

Now, one of the best parts of the ceremony was when the music director, Rossen Milanov, stood up and was talking about what the "C" meant. And he said things like, "C is for Camden. C is for Commitment. C is for Community." And all I could think of was a big blue monster singing, "C is for Cookie, that's good enough for me!" It took every ounce of self control to keep that to myself until we were in the car on the way home. I was not the only one thinking it.

One of the things that this article says is that the name is more modern, and a better reflection of the organization, thinking outside the box and stuff like that. But in 20 years, isn't it going to sound horribly dated? And for that matter, doesn't it sound completely stupid NOW? DM and I both agreed that we're leaving "Haddonfield Symphony" on our resumes. "Symphony in C" is just lame.

Heading back to the Homeland

2007-09-03T08:54:00.000-06:00

When I was home a few days ago, I found myself in a discussion with my mom about teaching-- what makes a good teacher, what made some of my teachers great, etc. And of course, DH came up. And I said something to the effect of "Well he's a little bit of a quack sometimes, but he can fix anybody. I saw him turn some people who hardly knew which end of the horn was which into some pretty decent players. If you need fixing, he's the guy."

It took me a few days for what I had said to really dawn on me. Here I spent three years studying with "the dude" who fixes people's problems. Probably the one guy in the USA with the knowledge, compassion, and guts to really dig into whatever my playing problems are and set me right. He's a phone call away, and why have I been resisting? Probably because of my own pride. My time in Madison ended strangely, and DH and I had somewhat of a falling out. But lets be realistic, that was over two years ago. And if there is one person who I know will be compassionate and devoted to helping me fix my playing problems, its DH.

So I emailed him. I ended the email with, "And I'm thinking of coming to see you." And he wrote back and said, "Come see me. I'm concerned. I make no guarantees, but I will help you." So I booked a flight to Madison this coming weekend (with the EXTREMELY gracious financial assistance of my parents) and I'm going to shell out some major dough to have two lessons.

There's a lot of pride-swallowing in my apartment today. I'm pretty sure that D will say some things that will drive me up the wall. And I know that he'll probably get a little too philosophical for my tastes. And he might talk about birding.

But I also think this will happen:

I will walk into his office and he'll sit down in his rolling chair, adjust his glasses, look at his blue folder of notes from when I studied with him and say, "Well?" I will have done everything in my power to come across as a poised, confident individual, but this is likely the moment when he will look at me and all that poise will go straight out the long skinny window. I'll start crying and tell him the whole damn story. He'll scoot over, grab the box of tissues (because this has likely happened before) and then we'll get down to the nitty gritty of fixing my face.

I also have a feeling that it will be well worth every damn cent.

Savasana

2007-09-01T15:59:00.000-06:00

Savasana is the "corpse pose" and it is almost always (regardless of what type of yoga you practice) at the end of the practice. It is a time to reflect and relax. I've heard it said that some people find this to be the most difficult part of the practice. The point is to just surrender your body and your mind. You don't have to focus on twisting or stretching your muscles, or on focusing your gaze, you just have to BE. I can see why people find this difficult, come to think of it.

I went to a led class today (rather than the self-instructed Mysore style Ashtanga that I have been doing a lot of lately). It was a good class, and just what I needed since I've decided that my practice has been getting a little sloppy and lazy as of late.

I have always found the closing sequence in Ashtanga yoga to be particularly difficult, mostly because by then, I'm really tired. Not only that, but these poses involve a lot of core strength and are usually held for between 10-20 breaths, rather than 5 like the previous asanas (poses). After what I thought was a particularly productive and strenuous closing sequence today, I was grateful to lie down in savasana.

And as soon as I started focusing on "letting go," I realized just how hard I've been working to not "let go" for the last week or so since I got back from Calgary. I started to cry, and admittedly, I wanted to sob. While sobbing might have been just the release I need right now, something told me that I would be supremely embarrassed if I actually did let go that much. So I held it together and cut my savasana short.

But it made me realize just how much I'm holding in lately, and the fact that my high range seems to have disappeared entirely in the last week seems pretty indicative of the fact that I can't separate my horn playing from my emotions. Thoughts?

Buzz Buzz

2007-08-31T15:48:00.000-06:00

My embouchure. It won't buzz. At the top, like about a high G#, it just stops.

Suggestions?

Letters

2007-08-30T21:12:00.000-06:00

Before I die, I have to make sure to burn all of my diaries and letters.

That sounds morbid and a little odd, so let me explain.

Both of my mother's parents have passed away in the past year, and the duty of cleaning and sorting through the various items in the huge 1750's farmhouse that they lived in has fallen to my mom and her siblings, naturally. Now, to be fair, my grandparents had done a pretty good job of cleaning things out as they sensed that their time on this earth was drawing nigh. So while the work was daunting, it was not nearly as bad as it could have been, as I understand it. The attic and basement (usually the worst part of the job) were essentially empty.

But there are still all of the other things that people keep. Like kitchen things. I now know that my tendency to hoard food in the cupboards "just in case" is actually genetic. Like so many women of the Depression era, my grandma could sniff out a deal from a mile away, and even if she didn't really need another jar of salsa, she'd buy it on sale and store it in the pantry. Ever get stuck in line at the grocery store behind an older woman with a million double coupons, haggling over something that really only amounted to two cents? That was my grandma. So you can see why, over the past few years, she had accumulated quite a few jars of salsa and ziploc bags. I think everyone in the family took home at least two jars of salsa and some detergent.

Now, I mentioned that my grandma was a woman of the Great Depression. This means that my grandfather, like most young men in their late teens during the early 1940's, fought in World War II. He fought on the European front, although I don't know many details other than that. However, most of the pictures and memorobilia from the war are among the things that my mom has been sorting through over the last few months.

There's a stunning picture of my grandfather holding a Nazi flag. I don't know why, but that picture really hammered home that my grandpa was actually THERE. There are some great pictures of him with his buddies, all around the same age, and all cocky and handsome in their uniforms. They don't even look real in some ways, but there is no mistaking my grandfather's nose, so I'm sure its really him.

My grandma and grandpa were childhood sweethearts, and grew up down the street from one another. They were married for nearly sixty years. Think about that. It boggles my mind.

There are a number of letters that my great grandparents sent that are positively endearing. They talk about some of the most mundane things-- who stopped by, what the outcome of the National Singles Tennis Tournament was, and whether the Dodgers won or lost. I have only perused a few of them but my favorite part is this closing, written by my great grandfather:

"We pounce on [your letters] when they come or when we arrive home. Also read them half a dozen times to be sure we missed nothing. Your dad, Ernest."

And the letters from my grandmother to my grandfather are some of the sweetest, most beautiful things I've ever read. Not because they are particularly eloquent or flowery, but because they are so honest. She talks about how excited she is to start their lives together, and reminisces about things they did or things that she wants to do. There are a few letters from after they had been married about a year as well as holiday cards and wedding photos. And I feel so lucky to have read these bits of history. It gives me a new appreciation for my grandparents. We should all hope to find love like they found.

But when I think about someday dying and having my family reading my diaries from when I was eleven, or various other types of correspondence, I start to turn red in the face. On that "list of things to do before I die" I must remember to include "burn diaries."

And then....

2007-08-25T21:25:00.000-06:00

Keith created a leadpipe.

And it was good.

Very good.

WTF?

2007-08-23T22:44:00.000-06:00

If I was religious, which I’m not, really, I think that someone might suggest that I’m having a minor crisis of faith. But if you’re not really into God and you start having a crisis about your belief system, is it still a crisis of “faith?” Is it even a crisis if you aren’t in “crisis more?” What is there to have faith in if you’re not really sure that God exists to begin with?

Maybe it’s a crisis of self. That sounds a bit more accurate. Actually, “time of reflection” might be better, since I’m not really even viewing this as a crisis. Enough crap from me, Reader(s), here’s the situation:

I’m not really sure I want to do this anymore. I’m not sure I want to pick up the horn every day and keep struggling to make pretty sounds come out. Frankly, as of late, the sounds haven’t been very encouraging. I’ve got auditions lined up, but that isn’t doing that much to motivate me.

I can’t really come up with something I want to do more, but on the other hand, I can come up with things that would be easier and more lucrative. Maybe that’s some sort of indicator right there? I’ve never really been one for the easy road, though. Here’s a suggestion: if you want easy, don’t play the horn. Play the clarinet.

But I remember how exciting it used to be, playing the horn and making sounds and winning stuff. All that validation…. And lately, there hasn’t been much of that because of the aforementioned lack of pretty sounds. And that’s a little damaging to what might have been left of my ego. I remember my best moments of music making, and it all involves feeling like I had something to share with the world. I don’t feel like I have the technical facility to show anyone anything anymore. And that isn’t a good way to feel when you’re about to start testing the waters of the audition pool again.

I have a new leadpipe that I’ll pick up at the post office tomorrow. Maybe that will give me hope or inspiration or something. Maybe it’ll solve all my problems and I’ll be able to rewind to last October when I could still make pretty sounds… I’d settle for some pretty sounds, though.

I don’t know if this is a crisis. I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore, or why. $500 CAD will buy you a leadpipe, but will it buy you a new outlook?

Guess we’ll find out tomorrow morning.

Time flies

2007-08-14T08:43:00.000-06:00

Eek! Its "mid August" already!

I wish I had some great excuse for the quietness of my blog as of late. But I don't. Mostly, there's not that much to report. I could write about my various successes playing the horn, which seem a little trite compared to what I used to do. .. Nothing like a serious playing injury to knock you off your egotrip, though, and make you realize that the only thing that matters is right now. You can hang your hat on your successes, but that's really about it. Sometimes you have to start back at square one (maybe two) and just deal. That which does not kill you will only piss you off more, right?

Work is what it is. My days with this orchestra might be numbered, and I'm really okay with that. I realized recently that playing for money is great, but its not everything. Knowing that I could do something else during the summer and that would be alright is really a pretty empowering position to be in.

I'm looking for some new direction in this blog for the coming months. Suggestions are welcome, if any of you are even reading anymore!

I'm off to Canada tomorrow to visit J. I can hardly wipe the stupid grin off my face today because I'm so excited. I feel a little weird about returning to Calgary so soon after leaving, but I won't know how I really feel about that until I get there. Like I said before, the only thing that matters is right now. No use predicting the future, you're probably wrong.

How y'all doing, anyway?

Pressing questions

2007-08-05T09:51:00.000-06:00

If you start humming the death march every time you head off to work, is that a bad sign?

More on my trials and tribulations later, Reader(s). I'm off to entertain the masses. Sorry the blog has been so quiet. I have lots to write but rarely seem to have the inclination to sit down and do it.

-Ren

P.S. Do any of you watch Lost? I've just started the first season... SO GOOD! (Though not as good as Battlestar Gallactica. I mean, nothing is.)

Food, glorious food.

2007-07-24T09:53:00.000-06:00

I have the week off, not by choice, but because this is the life of a freelance musician. I am blessed to have pretty steady summer work, but with all per-service jobs, sometimes they just don't need a horn, or the person who plays it. So I've decided to spend my stretch off doing things that need to be done. There are still a few boxes that have become permanent fixtures that should really be unpacked. With numerous regional and national auditions coming up, there are excerpts to be (re)learned. There was a Harry Potter book to be finished, but that was finished Sunday night. You get the idea. Its not all unpleasant, but some of it is more fun than other stuff.

So I decided to start it off on the right foot yesterday. The right foot, for me, usually involves food. So I took the wad of cash from my gig the other day and went to my favorite grocery store, Trader Joes.

Reader(s), I am living, breathing proof as to why you should not go grocery shopping when you are hungry. I think I fell into some sort of haze when I got there, remembering how fun it is to grocery shop when J. is in town. It was like he was just one aisle over, maybe, and we could definitely finish an entire bag of grapefruit, a whole bag of pears, and an enormous number of plums before they all went bad. This haze may also account for the somewhat ridiculous amount of other stuff I bought, too. As most of us know, the grocery store isn't really made for single people. Its much easier (and way more fun) to shop for two people.

When I got home, I looked at the vast abundance of food and realized what I had done. I was missing J. so much that I had almost exclusively bought food that he would like. The flaw here is that J. is 2400 miles away, and will not be eating this food with me. But as I peeled a grapefruit (not a fruit I've ever really loved, but one of J's favorites), I started thinking about how powerful food has become to me.

A seemingly unrelated story: A few nights ago, I was in DE and met up with some old friends who I haven't seen in the five years since their wedding just after college. I was happy that the stars had sort of aligned so that I'd be able to meet up with them. So when they suggested we meet at Bennigans, which was a convenient halfway point, I was a little disappointed. There were a number of haunts from my undergraduate days with excellent food and a great beer selection that I was hoping to reacquaint myself with, but for various reasons, I seemed to be outnumbered on this one. So I thought "Well, its not about the food. Its about seeing old friends, right?"

Wrong.

I'm not taking away from how nice it was to see these two, but I have to admit that the experience was diminished for me because the food was awful and the service was just annoying. There were a limited number of things I could order, since I don't eat meat, and none of them looked that good. I don't make a lot of money as a musician, and I do tend to eat out a lot because I'm away from home more than your average person. But when I spend money on food, I like to spend it on something that is delicious. Even if its that $6 burrito from Qdoba or that pizza on the boardwalk, I usually try to make concerted decisions about the food I’m going to spend my money on. After all, “Ya gotta eat!” Lets just say that chain restaurants don't usually get my vote or my money.

Last week I was in NYC meeting another set of old friends from the college years, as mentioned in the previous post. There was a big group of us and it was a great gathering. And it wasn’t ALL about the food, but the delicious Burmese cuisine definitely enhanced the experience. For me, Bennigans detracted from it.

So after my grocery store run the other day, I'm probably overly conscious of how important food has become, whether it is in my house or out of it. Why spend money on what you could have anywhere (TGI-Chili-Apple-Benni-Outback-Fridays) when you could go to an independently owned place with delicious food and real character?

Call me a snob, its just how I feel. Now if you'll excuse me, Reader(s), I have to go eat another grapefruit.

I'm a nerd.

2007-07-20T18:31:00.000-06:00

But you already knew that, particularly if you are a regular reader.

Life is so fun right now. Went to NYC to have a lesson with this lady, which was amazing, and I can pretty safely say that my embouchure actually is going to be fine. It was awesome. Met DS for lunch, then had an EXCELLENT reunion with friends from college. We ate at a fabulous restaurant and went to some bar afterwards. And it was FANTASTIC to see everyone. I had fun for absolutely every moment I was there. And I really don't like the city of New York all that much, so that's saying a lot.

And I've been working a ton, which is great. Now if only those f***ers would pay me... But I don't want to turn into one of those complainers. The check's in the mail. Sure.

AND TONIGHT! TONIGHT IS THE LAST HARRY POTTER BOOK!

I was a little embarrassed to pre-order it a few weeks ago. When they told me that I could pick it up at midnight, I definitely thought "No Way." And now that the opportunity is presenting itself, well... I have to say, I'll be standing in line with everyone else. Then I'm going to come home and start reading, and I'm not going to stop until the book is read. So don't expect to hear from me for awhile. I suppose I'll have to stop reading to go to work tomorrow and Sunday. But in the meanwhile, don't talk to me. And if you know the ending because you read the spoilers or you read faster than I do, don't talk to me.

Anybody wanna hear MY predictions?

Harry's gotta die to save the wizarding race. I think he'll die saving his friends, in some act of love. And if he doesn't, its a cop out. Period. If Harry lives, I'm gonna be pissed.

:-D

Later, Reader(s).

What a long, strange trip it's been...

2007-07-10T23:35:00.000-06:00

Its my birthday tomorrow.

Well, technically, its my birthday today, since its 1:30 in the morning. But I'm going to end this day soon and wake up and then it will really feel like my birthday. Lets not get too hung up on technicalities, though.

So, last year, I can tell you EXACTLY where I was on this night. I was sitting on my balcony with M., discussing my incredible luck at receiving a phone call from a certain Canadian orchestra, offering me a one year position as their associate principal horn. What an incredible birthday present. I was dumbfounded and thrilled and scared and excited. "This is it!" I thought. "This is my big break! Now I will be happy because I have a job."

I can tell you that I am in a much different place now than I was then, even though I'm sitting in the same seat on my balcony in the sweltering July heat. How different? This could get long and philosophical, but I think I have to write it for myself. Consider yourself warned.

Last year I didn't think I deserved a job. "What makes me more qualified than any of these other schmucks on the audition circuit? How can I ever live up to the unreasonably high expectations that I have set for myself?" Now, though, I actually believe that I'm a good horn player, not because that's what other people have told me, but because I know that its true.

I never wanted to admit weakness. "Never let 'em see you sweat," I thought. But I learned how to ask for help and how to admit when I don't have the answers. I know that I'm a good judge of character and I can find the people who can help. Oh, and never take advice just to impress someone. If you don't agree, smile politely and ask around for some other opinions. There's more than one way to skin a cat, apparently, but there's also more than one way to gain increased stability in the high range.

If you think you're getting played, you probably are. If you aren't being valued in a relationship the way you know you deserve to be valued, just get out. I'm a pretty cool person, I think, but I kept dating these guys who didn't want to act like they gave a shit about me. There's no amount of "convincing" I could do to make them see otherwise, and I don't really know why I was trying so hard. But putting my foot down and not accepting mediocrity actually worked out! I have someone better than I ever dreamed possible. I'm in a functional relationship that, despite the distance, is incredibly fulfilling. When I'm with him, I feel like the person I want to be. When we're together (or even just talking on the phone) I feel smart and funny and pretty. For real.

I know that having a full time orchestra job might buy you respect from some people, and there might be a decent benefits package, but it doesn't buy you happiness, and it doesn't buy you the freedom and variety that a life of freelancing gets you.

Warm boots and a good toque will get you through the winter. Keeping your feet warm is imperative to your everyday happiness. Trust me on this one.

I learned how to really take care of myself, physically and mentally, this year. Yoga, acupuncture, physiotherapy, and some counsel from people far smarter than I am went a long way to making me realize that I couldn't keep coming down that hard on myself. I remember when I was so tense I could hardly breathe in January. I don't ever hope to go back to that, but I think I have the tools now to keep it from happening again.

I am so much healthier than I was then. I wouldn't wish the experience I had on anyone, yet, at the same time, I hope that everyone gets the opportunity to learn so many things about themself. I hope the lessons aren't as harsh, but sometimes maybe that's what it takes. After thinking long and hard about it, I would absolutely repeat this year. After all, that which does not kill you....

I feel strong. Really strong.

Finally.

um...

2007-07-09T21:40:00.000-06:00

So, I've had any number of great ideas for blog posts in the last week or two. Unfortunately, by the time I get home and could actually write them, the inclination is generally gone.

So suffice it to say that life is fine, and if the mood to blog actually strikes me while I'm in front of a computer anytime soon, I'll be sure to write more.

Hmmm

2007-07-07T08:28:00.001-06:00

I don't even quite know what to say about this one.

Ommmmmmmm

2007-06-29T14:44:00.001-06:00

I like yoga.

I've blogged about Ashtanga yoga and how it has changed my life. I am mentally and physically stronger because of my yoga practice, and sometimes I think I'm beginning to sound like a born again Christian when I talk about how yoga has changed my life. But it has.

The last two weeks have been hectic and I haven't done ANY yoga during that time. I was starting to feel it-- its like my body craves it when I don't do it for a few days. And my mind starts to feel messy as well. So although it wasn't my traditional Ashtanga class, and no studio will ever be as great as the Yoga Shala in Calgary, it is time for me to get off my arse and find a new studio.

Today was the first time I've gone to a non-Ashtanga class. I went to an advanced Vinyasa class at a studio in Erdenheim, PA. Its a little out of the way for me, but I went with a friend and it is a nice drive into the fancy-pants 'burbs of Philly. And it was good. I realized that I might be turning into a yoga snob. I love the primary series, and I really believe in the efficiency and beauty of a faster-paced yoga system. But I'm not sayin' this wasn't REALLY hard. There were some poses that I thought were just STUPID hard. But I like the knowledge, with Ashtanga, that each pose will only last for five breaths. It somehow seems less arbitrary that way, like the teacher has a little less power.... ;-)

Vinyasa really was a lot like an advanced primary series. (I know you don't care, Reader(s), but its my blog and I'll gab about yoga all I want, mkay?) Lots of similar postures, etc. Anyway, it started with a whole slew of sun salutations, and as I went into the first downward facing dog, I started to tear up! It was this amazing familiar feeling in my muscles, but it is a familiar feeling from CALGARY and it was like my body got confused about where it was for a second. As I settled into the practice, though, I calmed down. And again, in Chivasana (the part where you lie on the floor at the end) I started to cry again because I felt like all the emotions I had stuffed from J's departure yesterday suddenly boiled to the surface. I felt a profound sense of loss at leaving Calgary, but a sense of strength at the same time-- I knew that if I had made it through what was (arguably) the worst year of my life and still come out on the other end alright, I'd be okay for a long time.

And if any of you have ever had a realization like that all at once after an hour and a half of doing yoga the day after your boyfriend/best friend got on a plane to go home 2400 miles away, trust me, you'd start to cry too.

Namaste, Reader(s). Go do yoga.

wow.

2007-05-27T14:28:00.000-06:00

So, I haven't seen this commercial here in Canada just yet, but someone on Facebook gave me a heads up...

Randomness

2007-05-27T12:56:00.000-06:00

The clock is ticking, Reader(s). My time in Calgary is drawing to a quick close, and I don't know how I feel about it. Some day, I can't WAIT to get back to Philadelphia. I think about my apartment and the things there, the streets and Kelly Drive and that coffee shop I like in East Falls... But other days, I look around at what I've got here and its really not bad. Some parts of it are absolutely wonderful. So I just do what I can, one day at a time. There's really not much else to do when you think about it....

Yoga is still an amazing force in my life. But what I'm trying to reconcile right now is the fact that I can make all sorts of time to do the 72 asanas of the Full Primary Series but I can't seem to sit down to practice for more than 10 minutes at a time. I'll sit down with my horn and then get so easily distracted, the next thing I know I'm typing an email or watching TV. And sometimes I don't even realize that I'm not practicing the horn anymore! I'll suddenly come to my senses and realize that I do not have a Rauch in my hands anymore, and I am, in fact, watching Ellen.

So do any of you have any suggestions on how to fix this? How can I get my music concentration back?

Today's Postsecret was really really good. This was my favorite one. I just stared at it for a few minutes because all I could think was, "I know how that feels."

I sure do love the muppets.

2007-05-20T17:56:00.000-06:00

Tally

2007-05-16T19:08:00.000-06:00

So on my most recent trip to Invermere, BC, I saw:

1 Bald Eagle
1 Golden Eagle
7 Mule Deer
1 Bobcat
~ 20 Bighorn Sheep
7 Loons
2 Canada Geese (coming in for a spectacular landing on the lake, I might add)
2 Trout
Lots of freshwater clams
7 now dead mosquitoes
1 hornet (which I ran away from)

and... the piece de resistance....

1 Aquatic Car from the 50s

Yes, it was awesome. Pictures soon, I hope.

Ha.

2007-05-16T19:02:00.000-06:00

I guess y'all heard that Jerry Falwell died. I watched that news piece with a bit of a raised eyebrow and wondered if he actually gets to go to the heaven about which he preached. I didn't think about it too hard, though, because I realized that if he's the type of person you meet in heaven, I want nothing to do with the place.

But Slate.com posted this article today and I just got such a kick out of it, I had to share.

You might...

2007-05-14T22:19:00.000-06:00

I'm always saying that you should live your life to the fullest because you might die tomorrow.

The horn player who had been offered a one year contract to replace me in the CPO next year died in a plane crash a few days ago. My heart goes out to his family and friends, and it serves as a harsh reminder to me that I'm right.... you could die tomorrow. So if you love someone, you'd best tell them. Figure out what's important to you, and always keep that in the front of your mind.

Here's the article.

Thoughts ?

2007-05-13T20:35:00.000-06:00

My time in Calgary is drawing to a quick close, and I'm sure you all (yeah, all three of you) have noticed the lack of blogging as of late. That is due mostly to the fact that I'm spending nearly every waking moment with JW. I have many MANY thoughts about this relationship, but most of them are not really the type of thing to post on the internet. I'm in love-- lets just leave it at that, okay?

My mom came to visit last weekend. We had a nice visit-- she came to the concert, met some of my friends, and we went to Banff, of course. She asked me, as we were driving out the Transcanada Highway, if the splendor of the mountains ever wore off. I thought about it, and I have to say that although the Canadian Rockies don't surprise me like they used to, they are still amazing. For those of us who grew up near the ocean, do you remember going to the beach every summer? Remember what it was like when you first saw the ocean after a long time away from it? It never seemed to get any smaller to me during the winter months, that's certain. I'm starting to love the mountains the way I love the ocean. It'll never replace the sea air, but there is magic here, I'm sure of that.

And now I'm back in Invermere, BC with JW and two of our friends. (A reduced orchestration Baroque concert gave all of us the week off! Hooray!) This is the site of my "embouchure rehabilitation" a few short months ago. And while my chops still aren't back to exactly where they were, I am so much stronger than I was then. I played a concert last night and didn't feel terribly bad about it. I might even start auditioning again soon, which is a really hopeful and wonderful feeling.

Amazing that, after all of my bitching about how badly and desperately I wanted to leave Calgary.... I am feeling very conflicted about actually leaving. I can see where I went wrong in a lot of ways (most of which I'm not willing to announce on my blog) but I can also see what I've learned. Mostly, though, I think I've learned that no place is perfect. I certainly wasn't happy in Philly when I got there. I was not particularly happy in Calgary for a very long time, and I let that get into my playing. I also, legitimately, injured myself. But my hatred of the city didn't aid in my recovery, of that I'm sure. I'm also sure that I would have left long ago if it wasn't for J, who seemed to walk in when everyone else seemed to walk out. But I digress.

I could be happy here. I know that. I can see that. I would need to spend a lot of time doing yoga, and finding some students, and creating my own playing outlets... but I would do that now, if I had the opportunity. Unfortunately, I don't have that opportunity. But I have been happy before, and I'm happy now. I anticipate some unhappiness when I get back, but time heals all wounds, I hope. You never know where you'll end up, and you really can't predict the future.

I have to go, but I'll try to be a little more frequent in my blogging habits. I make no guarantees, as the weather is finally perfect, and I'm in love......

This Just In:

2007-05-04T17:27:00.001-06:00

Read This.

Re: May Day! May Day!: An Inquiry

2007-05-02T15:11:00.000-06:00

My friend Clara posted this today.

I was moved for a variety of reasons. First, I can sympathize with that feeling of listening to a recording and feeling yourself crash. Feeling that this whole idea of being a professional musician is completely absurd is one that I'm quite familiar with lately. I would say that it haunts me almost hourly. But I also really appreciated her descriptions of classical music-- why its relevant, why its different than pop and jazz music. And that brings me around to this week at work....

Beethoven 9 and John Adams' new work, "On the Transmigration of Souls" are two very compelling and very relevant pieces of music. I really can't think of a better pairing for Beethoven 9. Granted, I like new music, and I like John Adams. Perhaps someone else would think differently, but then, that's what makes horse racing interesting too. But I digress....

I'm playing assistant on the Beethoven and as all of us horn players know, playing assistant is a challenge and often a complete bitch for a variety of reasons. All guts, no glory. Can't hear a thing where I'm sitting, then I sit for long periods of time and when I bring my horn back up, my intonation is crap. But I reconcile that feeling by reminding myself that it is a privilege and an honor to play Beethoven.

I only wish my colleagues felt the same.

I know, rehearsing is tedious. No one likes being scolded for sounding late. And no one likes it when Roberto hollers about intonation. But no one likes it because it hurts the fragile musician ego. I don't think anyone actually relishes the often boring time spent in rehearsals. Perhaps I'm just too idealistic and optimistic when I say the following though: it really could be a lot worse.

There is a lot of anger in this organization that I fail to see justified most of the time. I know, I know. Its complicated. Lockout, management, salaries, paycuts, music directors, contracts, money, money, money... Things sure could be better. But how is it possible to get anything done when this negative cloud hangs over every rehearsal, every meeting, and every performance?

And the worst part is that it perpetuates itself. Once one person starts it is SO EASY to get sucked in and start agreeing with them-- you start to feel righteous and indignant and pretty soon, you are just as toxic as they are. I recently decided to take a stand against a particularly obnoxious violinist who never has a good word to say about ANYTHING. (I'm not taking any liberties when I say that I've never heard a nice word out of her mouth.) A few nights ago when she complained to me that the opera was so long and couldn't it start a little earlier (it was Wednesday night at 7:30) I said, "Well, it could be worse!" and she said (bitchily), "I guess that depends when you get up in the morning." And I responded with a cheerful smile and "Well, we could all be working at McDonalds!" Then I walked away.

Seriously, we're musicians. Did we all not realize that we'd be in for some late evenings and long concerts when we signed up? Did we not know that operas are long? (A shout-out to Spot right now. Playing "Der Ring" must be arduous. Props, my friend. Props.) BUT I HAVE A STRONG SUSPICION THAT WHEN SPOT SIGNED UP FOR 40 WEEKS OF AN OPERA ORCHESTRA, HE KNEW THERE WOULD BE SOME LONG SHOWS! (Probably many of those shows are on weeknights, right? And Friday and Saturday nights, too?)

I'm not saying that it isn't hard. I'm not saying that we don't have a right to complain sometimes. But this toxicity does nothing for morale, it does nothing to strengthen the position of the orchestra 'versus' management, and it doesn't nothing for our mindsets as musicians. (At least it does nothing for mine. I suppose I can't really speak for anyone else.) Wouldn't our position be strengthened by approaching the problems in a more constructive way, rather than just raising our voices against these perceived injustices?

I know I'm going on a bit here, but what's the fun of having a blog if you can't rant sometimes?

PM of the OSM (who recovered from an overuse injury about 7 years ago) told me to stay positive and focus strongly on the good things. This was something I was good at once, and its working for me now. I'm trying to keep my thoughts positive and my feelings towards my friend, family, and colleagues as positive as I can. But it is a real struggle in this atmosphere. I'm off to another rehearsal soon, hopefully this one will be better for me.

Any suggestions for dealing with this? I don't think I can continue telling the obnoxious ones to go work at McDonalds.

Tonight didn't suck.

2007-04-28T22:31:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago I had the worst playing experience of my life. I don't really want to talk about it; suffice it to say that whenever anyone says "Imagine the worst moment of your life" that performance will be a strong contender.

But tonight didn't suck. My playing didn't suck, and I even had fun. The rep was pretty sucky, especially for a "Light Classics" concert, but right now, I'll take what I can get. I love what I do, though I don't always like my job. I'm starting to feel lucky again-- lucky that I get to do this for a living, albeit a meager one.

We're playing Carmen (tomorrow is the last performance of four, thank God) and although it is long and gets really tedious right around page 53 (out of 64) I'm having fun. Its nice to play 2nd horn-- wonderful to just sit down and do my job without all the stress of being principal. And it has given me a bit of confidence back, too.

The cheesy solo tonight had exactly two notes that I would like back. Horn players, it was one of those "hit the hard note before it and then chip the note afterwards." You know the ones I mean. Anyway, I'd take them back if I could, but I can't. So I'm just going to be happy about the good stuff.

I guess, in short, I'm happy about the progress I'm making with my playing. It feels good. I feel good.

Who's Canadian? Who cares?

2007-04-24T22:31:00.000-06:00

I am thoroughly sick and tired of being reminded of every single famous Canadian (William Shatner, Mike Myers, Alanis Morisette, and the entire cast of Battlestar Gallactica, to name a few), or every single famous thing that Canada has ever accomplished as a nation (building the arm of the space shuttle, inventing basketball, blah blah). I'm tired of being told about all the great horn players that come from Canada (Jamie Sommerville, Jeff Nelson, Fergus McWilliams, Marty Hackleman, etc) and I'm tired of feeling like I don't belong here because I happen to carry an American passport.

I used to feel this way when I was in Finland, too. The Finns are overtly nationalistsic; they are proud to be Finnish, not afraid to wear it on their sleeves, and happy to tell you about every member of the NHL who is Finnish (Teemu Selanne and a bunch of others whom I have forgotten by now). They are happy to tell you about all the famous violinists, pianists, and conductors who have graduated from the Sibelius Academy, and they are proud of their history of fighting off Russians in big wars. They are proud of their small nation's accomplishments, and rightfully so. For a nation of less than 6 million people, they have done a lot. But coming from a big nation, it was hard to feel like I could be proud of my country, too. We get sort of a bad rap, and sometimes, it is well deserved.

I'm horrified by my government on a daily basis. I'm ashamed of all of the sick and stupid things that George W. Bush says. He is the laughingstock of the world and it makes me nauseous to admit that my countrymen (and women) elected him (barely). But that does not make me sorry that I'm American. Don't get me wrong: Canada has a lot going for it. The healthcare is great, and I'm sure it is nice to be from a country that doesn't embarrass itself on a regular basis in terms of international relations.

But shit, I'm so god damned tired of hearing about all the famous Canadians. If I started rattling off all of the famous Americans every time someone mentioned one of them, I'd be labeled as a patriotic, obnoxious American, and no one would want to talk to me. If I was to point out all of the accomplishments of the United States of America (WWII, anyone?), all anyone would do is point out all of the lesser moments in our history (um, Vietnam comes to mind). If I talked about our great leaders (John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, Jimmy Carter, JFK, etc.) I think all anyone here would do is point out their shortcomings. If I talked about NASA and the space program, all anyone here would do is talk about the arm on the space shuttle (built by Canadians). If I even mentioned any sort of dependence on foreign oil, all I'd hear about is all the oil and resources that the rich Canadians have.

I'm so fucking sick and tired of underhandedly being dissed and made fun of for being American. Yes, I talk funny. Yes, my government makes A LOT of mistakes. Yes, our system is flawed. I daresay it is a lot harder to govern a country of 300 million than 30 million, though. Yes there are a lot of funny comics from Canada. But you know what? Every time someone talks about the Daily Show, I don't sit there and tell them that Jon Stewart is from New York City. And every time I go to Safeway or Blockbuster, I don't feel the need to remind everyone that it is an American-owned company.

I'm tired of feeling like I have to apologize. I'm not sorry. I'm proud of who I am, and to have a blue passport that says "United States of America," and proud that I was born in the richest and most prosperous country in the world. No apologies. Not this time.

Okay, now I'm just getting angry.

2007-04-18T12:03:00.000-06:00

I finally received my copy of "Broken Embouchures" by Lucinda Lewis. She and I have had quite a bit of correspondence via email and I had essentially read the entire book in various parts. However, I now own the printed and bound version of it, including a copy of "Embouchure Rehabilitation." I'm really glad I bought it. But what's pissing me off is that of all of the tomes of horn playing that I own, NONE of them mention this text. And it is good. Really good. I finally feel like I know how to form an embouchure-- I know what is really going on when I play. And I understand how I might have overworked myself into this. I understand the breakdown of mechanics and how important it is to understand how your embouchure feels when its HEALTHY in order to properly evaluate what could be wrong when it DOESN'T feel right.

And as I am reading it, all I can think is, "Thank God. I thought I was the only one." I find myself being so angry and bewildered that no one ever described this, that there was never any sort of warning about embouchure health, and that all we ever talk about is a "pucker-smile" or crap like that. I've studied with some great teachers, one in particular who has an incredible reputation as a pedagogue. I'm not implying that that reputation is not well deserved-- DH is an incredible teacher and a wonderful person. But this is SO common; sure, it manifests itself in different ways for everyone, but it seems that the breakdown of mechanics resulting in panic and confusion is pretty common, not to mention the lack of ability to correct it on one's own. Hell, most people don't seem to know where to turn.

All of the personal stories in Broken Embouchures reflect a feeling of bewilderment, frustration, and relief that someone FINALLY might know how to fix their embouchure issues. I identify with every single one of them.

WHY HADN'T I HEARD ABOUT THIS BOOK? It should really live on every single brass player's bookshelf, right next to Farkas, Reynolds, and Kopprasch. Don't wait for this to happen before you learn about it. Discussing or understanding injuries does not mean that you will invite one into your life.

This made my day.

2007-04-16T12:00:00.001-06:00

So....

2007-04-13T16:09:00.000-06:00

Well, how's it going, Reader(s)?

Things here are okay. A few loose end sort of thoughts to share. Yoga will make you really strong, but it won't do so much for your cardio. So I went for a run today. While I was on that run, I realized a few things:

a. I hate running. But I feel good when I give it a shot. Going for a little bit is better than not going at all, methinks.

b. The sun is a glorious thing, and I'm not the only person in Calgary who feels that way. Everyone was out in the park today! It was nice. Lots of families and people with dogs.

c. You don't learn things about yourself when you're happy. You learn about yourself from thoughtful evaluation of the bad times. Now, if I could only REMEMBER the things I learn from the bad times DURING the good times, perhaps there would be fewer bad times.... ?

d. I do a lot of analyzing, and might consider it one of my worst qualities. And I tend to think that I know what other people think of me. And I'm not talking about empathizing with how others feel, or coming to some kind of conclusion about how an event might make another person feel. I'm talking about thinking that I know what someone else must think about ME. (This is usually very negative thoughts.) And I realized (and this might be big) that this is just another way of negatively judging myself. And I have to stop that. I'm getting better, I really am. But this is just another sneaky way that my inner critics are getting to me, and I have to stop that. Like, for real.

e. You can try all you want but you can't run away from your feelings about another person.

f. I love playing second horn. We're doing Carmen this week and I'm playing 2nd because BH is out of town. And I love it. I love every moment of it. I love sitting down and playing the horn and not worrying, but feeling confident that I can play, and that it will sound good. I love not worrying about upcoming solos and the challenges of matching and blending and being inside the music and inside the section and JUST FUCKING PLAYING BECAUSE I LOVE IT. Now if only I could cultivate my low register a little more.... thoughts on that, horn players? All suggestions will be entertained within the parameters of embouchure recovery. Speaking of...

g. Embouchure recovery is a really long process. Its like the freakin' bunny hop... two steps forward, one step back. But it will be better. I actually will be fine. Hoppity Hop.

h. Looking forward to Philly. Missing the city horribly lately, though sometimes I don't want to admit it. I miss the Kimmel Center, and the orchestra, and my friends there. I almost miss the humidity, and I miss the Reading Terminal Market and driving two hours and being home in the country. I miss the smell of Philly, and the Art Museum Circle, and Kelly Drive. I miss the balcony of my apartment and the view of the Divine Lorraine. *sigh* I am absolutely certain there will be things I miss about Calgary, but I think that's a post for another time.

hahahahahahaha

2007-04-09T17:45:00.000-06:00

On my personalized Google homepage I have "YouTube's Most Watched Videos." After all, I like to keep up with the pop culture references. Besides, it provides me with the perfect mindless time waster between practice sessions.

There's nothing I like better than watching two idiots duke it out on Fox News.

Shh! Someone might hear you!

2007-04-05T15:16:00.000-06:00

Since my playing injury (which happened in early December and worsened through January when I finally decided to acknowledge it) I have learned a whole bunch of interesting stuff. I mean, sure, its been a personal journey and all that. Hell, scroll down and read about it if you want. But besides all the stuff I've learned about myself, I've learned a hell of a lot about playing injuries.

I have, in the past few months, talked to anyone and everyone about embouchures. I've talked to trumpet and horn players particularly, but also a few low brass players. I've discussed arm injuries with string players, things like carpal tunnel and tendinitis. I have found myself in deep discussions about things like acupuncture, active release therapy, physiotherapy, massage, and surgery. I have been at a bar discussing the emotionally and mentally debilitating process of rehab after a playing injury, and about what really happens when you "get to the end of your rope." I have gone back to all of the standards texts on horn: Farkas, Hill, Reynolds, Wekre and more from my personal library. I've reread my sports and music psychology books like the Inner Game and Soprano on Her Head. I've emailed all of my past teachers looking for guidance. I've played for more people than I care to mention, and taken advice and heard stories from players in all stages of their careers about these things. I've been on Wikipedia and the horn lists reading about mouths, and a physiotherapist showed me fascinating photos of the musculature in the face. But the worst part: I've thought about going to law school, or pursuing arts administration, maybe becoming a full time yoga teacher and giving up music entirely. It pains me to admit this, but I have thought about what it would be like to sell my horn.

Rips, tears, strains in your face; waking up and feeling like your lips are cardboard. Warming up for an hour and never really feeling warm. Feeling like you can't play anything less than ff, losing a perfect fifth or more off of the top of your range. Complete meltdown of sound, total spread of tone quality, and the fear of what's going to come out even if you do "breathe and blow" properly...

No one told me that this might happen. No one told me that this COULD happen. No one ever told me that many things (like high, loud F horn exercises) are good in moderation. I guess I knew it. I guess I had that figured out. I guess I knew that if something was hurting that I needed to back off. It is fairly intuitive, right? No one ever really told me that the things holding my embouchure together were my corners, and my chin. I only ever was told to breathe. And when my embouchure was working on its own, that was fine. Boy, can I ever breathe. And when my embouchure was holding up fine on its own, wow, could I ever play loud. My air was really efficient, and I could pull off the Short Call almost any time I wanted, provided I was warmed up. Loud, soft, high, low... whatever. When my face was working fine on its own, no problem. "Sure! I'll play it!" I nearly always said cheerfully.

But, Reader(s), I just got off the phone with a horn player who I respect IMMENSELY. He has had a very full and very successful career in both NYC and Philadelphia, and is one of my favorite orchestral horn players. And guess what? No one ever told him, either. He related his own story of playing injury to me, not dissimilar from my own. One of the trumpet players here in the CPO (whom I have never heard play, but by reputation is/was a monster trumpet player) was also incredibly helpful to me. And his is a story that is a bit more extreme than mine, but has some uncanny similarities.

Thank God for this woman. If Spot hadn't told me to contact her, I might not have found her book, Broken Embouchures. And to all the brass players out there: I know that title terrifies you. I know that even if you've never gone through what I have experienced in the past four months that just the thought of it elicits a really uncomfortable feeling. I think that's why it took me so long to contact her. I knew of her, but I didn't want to admit that I might need help, that this might be really serious, and that I might, even with three pieces of paper that certify me as a musician, not know what to do. I might have broken my embouchure.

In all those texts that I mentioned, I found a whole hell of a lot of information on the harmonic series. As far as embouchure goes, I saw some good pictures in the Farkas book and a funny explanation that involved "pucker smile" (huh??) I have more breathing exercises than you can shake a stick at, and I have umpteen lists of repertoire and etude books. But how many of these books talk about overuse and injury possibilities? Do any even discuss it, let alone offer resources or solutions for rehabilitation? You guessed it. No.

So why don't we talk about it? This is something that has always gone on, probably since the first time some caveman overblew a conch shell and felt some tingling in his upper lip. Why didn't any teacher talk about this possibility with me? If this is happening to so many players, why are we all so damn scared of it? Are we afraid that just by acknowledging that "My lips feel like cardboard and I don't know why" that it might actually get WORSE? Are we afraid that our students are all "embouchure hypochondriacs" and will suddenly come to us next week complaining of an inability to play soft or high? Or is it more that we are afraid that we're the only one? Are we afraid people will think that we're slackers-- wimps who just can't hack it? Or are we afraid that we'll never be hired again? Do we think that by hiding it, it will go away? Do we think that no one will notice?

Yeah, I got caught in a lot of those traps. But perhaps if we were all a little more open to it BEFORE it happens, it would happen less. Perhaps we need to tell ourselves (and our students) to trust themselves, to really LISTEN to what their bodies are telling them, to be thoughtful with practice time; all things in moderation, right?

Now, for the record, I'm not suggesting that we shy away from playing that might be uncomfortable. The only way to get better at something is to practice it. Practice might not make perfect, per say, but it does usually make better. Intelligent practice, that is.

So lets talk. And lets teach our students to trust themselves. Lets teach them that sometimes, sure, you do have to "play through it," but that they need to know when to stop, when to rest, and when something really is wrong. They need to know that moderation is the key to becoming a horn player.

They need to know that no job, no concert, no audition, is worth this price. I should know. I've been there.

Wow.

2007-04-03T09:27:00.000-06:00

But," he said, "by harboring bitterness, you will sell part of your soul to the devil."

Inner Peace and Outer Hotness

2007-04-03T08:41:00.000-06:00

I have, in the past, blogged about the gym. I had a trainer for awhile (who has ended up living downstairs) and that was really good. I learned a lot, it was great for my esteem and body-image, and I'm really happy I did it. I would highly recommend the experience to anyone who is just starting to get in shape. But since I stopped training, the gym lost a lot of its luster. I got tired of the treadmills and stationary bikes all facing the TV screens. I got tired of the buff trainers strutting around in their blue vests, and while the people watching is pretty spectacular, it wasn't what I needed. I grew weary of waiting a few minutes between each set of twelve, and I got tired of cleaning off the machines when I finished using them.

When my life fell apart, I tried to keep going to the gym, but the motivation was not there. Where I used to feel that I'd come out of the gym refreshed and self-assured, I noticed that I started feeling less and less like I was benefiting mentally from going. My horn teacher's wife, Amy, had been touting the spiritual and physical benefits that she had been feeling from a regular yoga practice, so I decided to give it a whirl. Although the gym offers yoga classes, I had been to a few and found the teacher to be incredibly grating. There was an aggression to the yoga she was teaching that really did not resonate well in my body and mind. So I decided to check out a real yoga studio.

Anyone who thinks that yoga is just a bunch of pansy-ass stretching should really try an Ashtanga Vinyasa Yoga class sometime. I blogged a few days ago about the ritual of it that I enjoy more and more each day. It is very physically demanding, but its the mental stuff that I'm really enjoying. I'm still working on that whole "inner peace" thing, but in the meantime, I'm enjoying the "outer hotness" of it, too. Is that so wrong?

Rituals.

2007-03-26T23:21:00.000-06:00

All through graduate school, I had a warmup that I did every day. It was a ritual, a part of my day, and my day didn't seem complete until it was done. It only took 30-40 minutes, but it was important. At the time, I thought that it had to do with warming up my chops and playing high and low and soft and loud. After a time, it didn't seem relevant anymore, and I stopped doing it. I toyed with other warmups, but none ever stuck for a long period of time like that one did. I just warmed up until I was, well, warm, then started playing.

But as I struggle with the daily frustrations of fixing my face, I feel like there is something missing. And its not just the physical aspect of the warmup ritual.

I've been getting more and more into the practice of Ashtanga Vinyasa yoga, which emphasizes the coordination of breathing with a series of poses called the Primary Series. The Primary Series is a succession of 72 poses always done in the same order. For the record, I have never completed a "full primary" of all 72 poses but I have done a Half and 3/4 primary series. Personally, I think the first 20 minutes is the most difficult, mostly because you spend a good deal of time with your head below your heart. Some parts are certainly more difficult than others; if you have flexible hips, this isn't that bad. But I personally think that Satan himself might have come up with this one. I digress.

I usually spend the first ten minutes being mildly annoyed that I showed up for this stinking yoga class. How many sun salutations can you really do before you get a little annoyed with this position? But after about the third one, I start to settle in. My breathing starts to coordinate and I don't really think about what annoys me because I'm so busy thinking about my strength and flexibility and the open feeling I get in my chest.

At the end of an hour and a half, I feel strong, flexible, and cleansed. It is a ritual, and it is becoming a very important one in my life. I wish I could say that I "do my best thinking" or that I "solve the world's problems" during my practice, but I don't. I don't really know what I think about, but it mostly seems positive, like love and calm and forgiveness and things like that. My mind wanders here and there (although I'm fairly sure I'm supposed to be focusing only on my breathing) but when I come out of yoga, I feel like myself. I haven't known what it feels like to say that in a long time, but now, I feel like its coming back.

The word "vinyasa" means, literally, "flow." Ashtanga vinyasa yoga is a fairly dynamic form or yoga, in that the positions are not held particularly long, and you literally flow from one positions to another. But "vinyasa" also means "the logical putting together of things."

I am starting to logically put together my life. And it is cool. There is something to be said for doing the same thing over and over. Yes, my arms are showing a newfound definition and I can do a full back bend. Those of you who do yoga know what I mean about the rapid changes that your body can go through from a workout like this. But that's not it; that's not why I keep going back.

Some say that doing the same thing over and over is boring, but I'm truly beginning to believe otherwise. Right now, doing the same thing over and over might just be saving me. If I believe in one thing right now, it is that ritual is important, powerful, and beautiful.

Sundays

2007-03-25T11:39:00.000-06:00

I like Sundays. I generally have no commitments on Sundays, and when I wake up and check my email, I have the amazing realization that there are new secrets posted on Postsecret.

The secrets that people send anonymously range from funny and hilarious to poignant to really really sad. But there's always something about it that makes me feel not quite so alone.

I'm goin' to the zoo, zoo, zoo...

2007-03-24T21:51:00.000-06:00

I went to the zoo today. I'm not a huge fan of zoos; I usually leave feeling sorry for the animals and sad about the state of the world. The Calgary Zoo has been recommended to me a whole bunch of times, by a whole bunch of different people, so I figured I'd give it a shot.

It was so fun.

An ex of mine once coined the phrase "edu-tainment." In that case, he was talking about an educational kids musical that he was playing 9 times a week. But the phrase is a good one-- educating while entertaining. "Learning is FUN" and all that garbage.

But as J. and I gleefully took in the sights (I loved the baby giraffe and he seems to have a soft spot for quadrupeds that are slightly tubby; hippos, pigs, yaks, etc) I thought about educating and entertaining. I learned a lot today-- did you know snowy owls mate for life? And we were about six feet away from a condor with a wingspan of about six feet! I was so mesmerized by the animals, my imagination was out of control. If I was riding a water buffalo and J. was riding a yak and we decided to joust, who would win? The line between entertainment and education was a very blurry one at best.

I was shocked by evolution constantly. The ways in which each animal was designed for what it needed to do to survive was a constant source of amazement to me. This is something I think about often, but being confronted by it for one exhibit after another was really thought-provoking. Between the mountain goats that are better at climbing vertically than they are horizontally and the river otters with their dense fur and adorable faces, evolution and natural selection were all around me.

I guess there's only a 2% difference between the genetic material of gorillas and the genetic material of humans... But that 2% is probably the part I find most disturbing, when it all boils down to it. Watching the male gorilla chew on some leaves, then walk over and rock the hammock where his buddy was lazing around... well, it made me think of my morning. Except that we're not monkeys. And we had eggs, not leaves. But you get the point. I'm anthropomorphizing here, Reader(s), cut me some slack!

The world is a really amazing place full of some pretty incredible species. Getting that close to some of the wonder that the world has to offer... well, it'll really make you feel small if you start thinking about it too much.

Update: my job

2007-03-23T11:22:00.000-06:00

Nevermind.

Just found out I don't have to play the Classics concert because they're bringing in someone for a trial. So I can sit around and play long tones without worrying about the wrath of the Maestro.

There's a part of me that is really disappointed because this is never what I wanted to happen to my life. But there's no changing it, so I might as well see the good part: I still get paid to fix my embouchure and watch the first two seasons of Grey's Anatomy.

*sigh*

Quick fixes do not exist.

2007-03-23T11:02:00.000-06:00

I finally contacted Cindy Lewis in NJ, an expert on embouchure injuries. I shouldn't have waited so long, but sometimes you have to get to the end of your rope before you learn to just tie a knot and swing. Just reading her words in an email made me feel less alone and more in control than I have in months. If any of you ever go through this yourselves (which I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy), contact me, please, I'll give you her info.

There's something that'll really wreck your esteem if you start thinking about the fact that you are celebrating a high A. Especially if you always thought you had a pretty good high range and A was easy. But if last week, it was the F that you were celebrating, I guess that the A is alright.

The hardest thing, and I know I've mentioned this, is having to try to do my job in the midst of fixing this. If I could only have another week of not playing, I feel like I could go further and make better strides. But instead, we have a rather taxing outreach concert on Tuesday, then the Maestro is in town again over the weekend for the Gershwin Concerto in F and some new music that looks rather "jazzy" and therefore, high. (When will composers learn that a horn is not like a lead trumpet in a jazz band? What's with that?) But, life goes on. I keep telling myself that the best I can do is try to protect my ego and my esteem, and that when I move back to Philly, it'll be like this never happened.

Speaking of Philly, I was putting together some stuff for my taxes (ugh) and looking through my planner from last year at this time. And I felt a real pang of homesickness for that life. I never thought that I would say that I miss freelancing, but I do. One week was Mahler 2, the next was Rigoletto. Sure there were some really shit gigs in there, but at least it was always something new. Not that I don't like things about the full-time orchestral gig, too, but I miss that variety of my lifestyle, the "new and different" every day. And sometimes I even miss the driving. I got a lot of good thinking done in my car, not to mention the "after the gig" phone calls where you put on your hands-free set and use your night minutes like they are going out of style. The hours of conversations with LB and SM while driving on the Northeast Extension or 95... I feel disconnected from my people here, and that's partly my own fault.

There are some really beautiful things about western Canada, and there's definitely someone who I'm really enjoying sharing that beauty with right now. But no matter how hard I try (and believe me, I'm trying) this is not my home. That makes me sad, because some days I REALLY wish that it was. If all this garbage hadn't happened, I might feel differently, but somehow I doubt it.

I think it runs in the family.

2007-03-17T14:42:00.000-06:00

Now that its been a few weeks since my grandmother's memorial service, I feel like I have enough distance to mock my family. My disclaimer: I love my family. I really do. I think they are just as nuts as any family, and sometimes, I think they are EXTRA crazy.

There were about 25 people at my gramma's memorial service. I have a relatively small family, and my grandparents had a pretty small social circle.

About a week before the service, my mom and aunt started obsessing about the food. Not that I blame them, since it gave them something to think about other than their grief. But I'm not sure how many times I heard them say, "Are you sure there's going to be enough food?"

This always happens. There is a perfectly modest amount of food planned for a basic hors d' orves event. Just enough that there would probably be a few carrots and some ranch dip left over, along with a few deviled eggs and enough cookies for a small snack later that night. But does that actually happen? Not in this family, buddy.

Suffice it to say, I've never said, "Its too bad we ran out of ________" at any family gathering in all my 26 years on this earth.

So they go to the supermarket. And somewhere in the middle of aisle five, they decide that an entire starving nation will be showing up. Massive, I mean MASSIVE, quantities of food are purchased. One could subsist on vegetables and fruit alone for at least a week after one of my family's gatherings.

This is not a bad thing. But I've always thought it was pretty funny.

***

So I decided to host a St. Patty's party tonight. My party has nothing to do with the Irish except that the bars are going to be overcrowded, and that seemed like a good reason to get everyone to come to my house to drink so I don't have to worry about driving home. :-)

And I made a list of food: chips, salsa, onion dip, cookies. This seemed pretty modest considering the number of people and the late hour of the party.

I was standing in aisle five of Safeway (the grocery store). And all of a sudden, I felt like an entire starving nation would be coming. I need to get pizzas! And maybe I should bake a cake! Oh, and what about those apple turnovers I've been meaning to make? Better pick up some puff pastry! And fruit! What about a fruit salad? Is there going to be enough beer? What about hard liquor? Never mind that I told everyone to bring their own booze, I'm absolutely certain that we're going to run out. I must go buy some. No, not some! Lots! Lots of booze!

And suddenly, I realized that I was turning into my mother, acting as though everyone needed a full four course meal before they left my somewhat informal gathering tonight. I had to take some nice deep breaths and tell myself that it was going to be okay. If, for some reason, everyone gets hungry, we can order pizza. And four bags of chips is undoubtedly enough. There's a 7-11 on the corner if I forgot anything. Its going to be fine.

Really.

I'm so tired, I just can't sleep.

2007-03-14T23:07:00.000-06:00

I know this happens to everyone... you're so tired, but its only 10:00, so you decide to go to bed. Then you read for a little while, turn off the light, and BOOM. You're WIDE awake.

You think about everything that is plaguing you. Everything that ISN'T plaguing you. You wish you'd taken that friend up on going out. (You turned him/her down because you were "too tired.") Now, not only are you not tired, but your thoughts are in a continuous downward spiral. Soon you'll get bored of that and you'll decide to blog to try to take your mind off of it.

So what am I so busy thinking about? What is keeping me from my precious sleep? Well, in no particular order, here it goes:

1) Why do my chops feel swollen all the time? Why don't they feel normal? When I play, why are the corners failing to hold, and the portion of lip between the mouthpiece and the corner is pushing out from its normally perfect and strong setting? Why can't I play soft? Why do I constantly feel like I'm forcing air, when it used to feel like playing the horn was the easiest and most natural thing I've ever done? And, for that matter, it felt like the ONLY thing I'd done.

2) It seems, from rereading (1) that I know what the problem is. And I remember what it felt like to not have these chop issues. So why is is so hard to fix it? Is it some underlying relief that maybe I can't fix it? Maybe this was the apex of my career and now I have to pack it in and be an administrator. Is it something broken, or something to do with scar tissue? Should I keep working at it or do I need more time off? And if I need more time, when does that come? I've already taken all the time off that I can. I have a summer gig waiting for me when I get back. Whether I like it or not, this is sort of my livelihood right now, and I'm not quitting.

3) Money. God damn money. Its such a great fall back when you can't sleep. No matter what the issue, so often it comes back to money. Should I buy a new computer now when I have a salary and put off some of those loans just a little longer? Probably not, since the front bumper of my car still needs to be fixed and I don't have an estimate on that just yet. If its not one thing, its another.

4) Why am I so intimidated by pretty people? Had a drink earlier tonight with friends of a friend who were, simply put, two of the prettiest people I've ever met. And to top it off, she is from Quebec and has the whole French accent thing going. And perfect skin. And beautiful hair. And a wardrobe to match the ensemble. Now, I don't think I'm a terrible slouch, but what is it about girls like this (oh and she came with a matching boyfriend, too) that I find so completely intimidating? Is it that "I'm beautiful and aloof" vibe? I mean, I don't care that she's prettier than me or that every guy in the room wants to fuck her. Really, I wouldn't want that kind of attention. And she seemed like a perfectly nice girl! But I left feeling really... uncool. Actually, its how I felt through most of high school. *sigh*

5) If I quit, what would I do? And if I don't quit, what business do I have being a horn player? If this is what I got myself into the first year of real employment, what else could I possibly do? Of course, that brings me around to thinking about the future. If you know that something has the potential to backfire and hurt you (emotionally or physically) should you avoid doing that thing? There's a quote from some famous person that goes something like "Never let the odds keep you from doing what you really want to do." Of course, the journey of a thousand miles could also end very, very badly...

Goodnight, Reader(s).

Poking Holes in My Face

2007-03-13T13:00:00.000-06:00

So...

I had more acupuncture today. My physiotherapist (who does the acupuncture) said I looked like a kitty cat with all the needles she put in my face. For those of you brass players out there: she didn't actually put any in my lips. Mostly she just put some on the outside perimeters of my face and then in my chin. She put some on the spots between my eyes, too.

Now, you're probably wondering if this actually helped my horn playing. The answer: I don't know, but it sure felt good. Acupuncture is probably the weirdest sensation I've ever felt, along with being one of the most indescribable. I'm sort of starting to scrape the surface of beginning to understand how it works, but there seem to be a lot of people who think its a load of hooey. One need only read the opening paragraphs of its Wikipedia entry to see that... But really, when it all boils down, I don't much care how it works. I don't really think there's a point to arguing with 10,000 years of Chinese medicine. Its just not worth my time.

So I'm off to practice and see if some of the tension is gone from my corners. If it is, great! If not, well, I'm no worse off than I was before, right? I'm trying to take a "Can't hurt, might help!" attitude towards my life these days. What's the worst that can happen? Hmm.. well, they won't renew my contract, everyone will think I'm a crappy horn player, my playing could completely tank, and I could spiral down into a depression lasting a month or more, not wanting to get out of bed and forgetting how to laugh. And my car could start overheating in a -20 snowstorm. And my gramma could die of cancer.

Oh wait, that all already happened. How liberating!

P.S.

2007-03-12T18:37:00.000-06:00

P.S. I have a crush on someone.

Sheesh.

2007-03-12T15:44:00.000-06:00

Sorry, Reader(s), I've been pretty absent lately. I've had a lot on my mind, but most of it isn't blogworthy. Or at least it isn't blogworthy yet.

But anyway... I spent most of last week trying to make it through each rehearsal, with varying degrees of success. My range pretty much ends at a G at the top of the staff. And by "ends" I don't mean that I can squeak out anything higher. I mean that it ends. Stops. Completely. No sound.

This is causing me no end of frustration. Quite frankly, I just spent about 10 minutes in tears about it before I decided to put the horn down and do something else. Witness Exhibit A: This Blogpost. I'm getting to the end of my rope. My face is in a constant state of flux and I can't remember the last time it felt "normal." And horn players, I know you know what I mean. When you wake up in the morning, you haven't played yet and it feels a certain way. After you warmup for a time, it feels a certain way, and after you've practiced or rehearsed for awhile, it feels a certain other way. Yeah, I haven't had those feelings for months. It is a constant struggle and I'm getting really really sick of it. I never know what is going to happen, and it messes with my brain, my ego, and my self-worth.

In other news, though, I think I'm just about over my ex! In a wonderful moment of clarity, K. asked me why I cared that his new girlfriend is visiting from New York and I didn't have an answer that made any logical sense WHATSOEVER. Hooray for logic! Thanks, K.

Isn't it funny how, with a little perspective, you can see just how fucked up something was? And how you can suddenly see the things that weren't normal that, frankly, you knew weren't normal the whole time but were perfectly willing to try to make excuses for? I mean, yeah, hindsight is 20/20 and all, but if only I'd listened to that little voice saying "this is fucked up" rather than stifling it, I might not have felt so damaged when it was all over. Hooray for hindsight!

And speaking of stifling that little voice... as much as I'm trying to shove off the feeling that I'm not that happy here in Calgary, even with the vast improvement in weather, I know that deep down, its an act. I hate it here. I love the friends I've made, but even when the sun is shining, I'm just not happy. I want to be, but I don't see how I can ever feel good about Calgary after all the shit that's gone down recently. Of course, perhaps its that I can't really feel good about anything until I fix my playing and, on a related topic, fix myself.

What a downer. Sorry, y'all.

How to Avoid Breakfast:

2007-03-05T18:34:00.000-07:00

Stay in bed until after lunchtime.

But seriously... Actually, I am serious. I didn't get out of bed until after noon today.

I have another few days off and I'm enjoying it immensely. Today I stayed in bed WAAAAY too long (no guilt), practiced, took a nap, practiced some more, and I'm off to yoga soon, which should leave me so mellow I won't know which way is up. I'm starting to feel some happiness coming back into my life, for a variety of reasons. The sun is shining and most importantly, my horn playing is getting back on track. My endurance is still WAY down, and I can feel some tension still in the high stuff. Its not as secure above high G as it used to be, but I can feel it coming back. And it is the most glorious, heart-opening feeling in the world.

I know, I know... you're all like, "yeah, I told you so." So many people have said, "Don't worry, it'll come back." And I wanted to believe all of you. I really did. But actually, I was starting to think about what I'd do if I couldn't play, and it was pretty bleak. I guess I'd become an arts administrator like Doug always wanted me to be.... Not that I don't have a world of respect for the good arts administrators out there. I know how difficult and frustrating those jobs can be from firsthand experience. But lets face it, the hours are better if you're playing in the orchestra, and its way more fun to play Heldenleben than to try to convince the public to go hear it.

So my corners are still pulling back and I can feel my air catching once in awhile. But my sound is coming back, and I'm fairly certain it'll be completely back to normal by the time the summer Pops season starts. Ah, Pops.... Its only March and I'm already trying to gear myself up mentally for the clusterf*** that is that job. Fun never stops, does it?

In other news, I'm planning roadtrips and mini-vacations for the time left here. JW is trying to convince me to go to the West Edmonton Mall with him... and while I'm not too gung ho on the waterslides like he is, I'm rather taken with the idea of seeing sea lions. In a mall. Right. I also might go see this guy and see if he can fix some of the intonation problems on my horn. I mean, if I can't mail it to Norway, I might as well take it to the next best guy. Besides, the drive looks amazing.

And mom is coming to visit in May! Hopefully it'll be thawed by then and we can do some good hiking. But if nothing else, we'll definitely be able to go to the mountains and she'll hear the Beethoven 9 concert.

So, things are getting better. Like that Monty Python "Bring out your dead" skit... "I'm getting better!" "I feel happy!" "I'm not dead yet!"

Playing the Horn...

2007-03-03T16:52:00.000-07:00

Spot's got tenure (hooray!), Clara is changing her embouchure (good luck!), and Kamp didn't win in Columbus (pooey!).

So what's the Ren got to blog about?

Shit, I don't know. I feel like there are eight million things to talk about lately, and I don't even know where to start. I am slowly but surely working out the tension problems I'm having. Basically, its like an embouchure change, so I can completely empathize with Clara right now. To somehow compensate for the tension in my breathing over the last few months, I started pulling my corners back in a big way. So now I not only have to eliminate the tension, but I have to relearn to play. I noticed in the kiddie concert today that I wasn't breathing well at all. When I'd settle down and take a real breath, things got better. But it was an uphill battle at some points.

We have a show this coming weekend that has a bunch of concertos that don't look too bad. We are playing a family show next Sunday that has Peter and the Wolf, though. Not that its such a hard part, but it is loud and gets sort of high on the last page. I have more than a week, though, so hopefully it'll be a positive experience. I have to work out this breathing thing, though.

Speaking of breathing.... I went to an Ashtanga yoga class a few nights ago. It was great, really. The Ashtanga practice focuses a lot on breathing and flowing from one posture to another, while always being aware of breath. I'm going to keep going, I think it'll be helpful. Its amazing how mellow you can be after an hour and a half of yoga. I don't think anything would have bothered me after that.

In other, non-horn related news: I'm still pondering some of the same points from months ago. Is it possible to avoid pain through the choices we make? And, in avoiding what seems like inevitable pain, what are you missing out on? You could, as I always say, get run over by a snowplow tomorrow and none of it would matter.* If you know that your time in a certain place is limited, how should that affect the choices you make? Do you just have fun, knowing that it has to end, and deal with the fallout later? Or should you be more careful with your choices, knowing that heartbreak may be inevitable, but you can soften the blow? Do the choices you make really matter, and is it possible to live in the future, in terms of matters of the heart?

Is it a matter of "damned if you do, damned if you don't"? Do we really have a choice? How much of it is fate and how much can I really expect to control? What if I make the wrong choice? Will I know right away, or will it take years and hindsight to be able to see what I might have done differently? It feels like an endless cycle of two steps forward, one step back. I guess that's progress, but the backwards steps sure are frustrating.

What do you think?

*First they'd have to plow the roads, though, so perhaps "snowplow" is the wrong vehicle. Maybe "Hummer" would be a better choice around here.

At least I wasn't born in Africa.

2007-03-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

Recent thoughts from my friends:

"I am sorry to hear things aren't great. But hey, if you tell me the story now, at the very least, I can vouch for you in a couple years!"

The best kind of care packages are the ones that have beer in them.

Whenever I'm depressed, I just think about how happy I am that I wasn't born in Africa.

Get it?

2007-03-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

Hi!

I'm not dead. Its snowing (still). Are you surprised? I'm not. About the snow, I mean.

I'm back to work tomorrow, and that is a little worrisome. I can't play convincingly above a G at the top of the staff, but luckily, its a kiddie show, so I really don't have to do anything terribly convincingly. Lets face it, the rest of the orchestra will be phoning it in, I shouldn't really get TOO hung up on this.

Yesterday I had acupuncture again. Now, I don't get acupuncture. There are things in modern medicine that I get. For example, antibiotics. Your system has bad things in it that are causing infection, so antibiotics kills them. After a few days, you feel better. I get that. But acupuncture? Someone inserts microscopic needles into certain points in the body and after about 30 minutes, removes them. I feel better, almost immediately. I can literally feel the pressure in my shoulders and chest leaving my body. I don't get that.

And, as it turns out, I don't really have to. I don't feel like anyone is standing on my chest anymore. The tension in my neck and jaw have released. My shoulders are actually resting at a normal position that makes me look neither like a hunchback nor a bra model.

And while I can't play much above a top staff G, my sound has improved and today, playing the horn actually made me smile.

Could you please stop standing on my chest?

2007-02-27T20:44:00.000-07:00

I had a lesson with the great and powerful AU on Sunday, and we determined that a great deal of my playing problems are because I am holding air, somehow, in my chest.

Now, the Physio mentioned that I had a ridiculous amount of tension in my shoulders. (I had to refrain from saying, "Thanks, Dr. Obvious.") And acupuncture was helpful, and I'm looking forward to more of it tomorrow.

I've heard that the chest is where we humans tend to hold our "emotional pain," which makes sense since that is the area that protects the heart. Yoga focuses a lot on "opening up" that area of the body, and I've found that thinking about "breathing into" that space helps a little.

I was practicing at the hall tonight, trying to get some sound without being incredibly heavy about it, thinking about my grandmother, and feeling like someone was standing on my chest. None of the aforementioned tricks was helping, and frankly, it still feels like the weight of the whole world is bearing down on me.

I've had my bouts of depression like any normal person, and there is a certain amount of physical pain that goes along with it. But it has never been like this. I wish it would go away so my horn playing could come back. The only thing I've ever really been able to depend on was my horn, and now its gone and I don't know what to do. And it hurts. It hurts so much.

Storm of the Century

2007-02-24T22:18:00.000-07:00

I'm in Philly, spending time with friends and eating too much delicious food. I'm looking forward to moving back here-- it's home. Dealing with family has been trying my patience, but this is just how things go. I'm taking comfort in the fact that sometimes, things actually get so bad that they can't possibly get any worse. I know, I'm not supposed to tempt fate by saying that, but really, what else can go wrong?

In D.C. a few days ago, a got a chance to see an old friend from UW. It was great to see a familiar face from so far back. Its also great to see people taking control of their lives in such a proactive manner. Way to go, BAM. (What great initials.)

I actually met up with BAM at a Lent church gig in Arlington. This was the first time I have set foot in a church in a REALLY long time. And of course, God apparently took this as a good time to address me personally. I walked in late because the DC Metro area is notoriously difficult to navigate. As the minister began speaking, I knew that this was going to be something that hit home. He talked about change. He talked about trying to change other people and the impossibilities and complications that arise from that. He posed the question, "In this season of Lent, what do you want to change about yourself?"

Dear God: Okay, I get it. I need to be self-sufficient. I need to stop trying to change the people around me and work on being okay with who I am. I get the message, and I'll work on it. Could you just leave me alone for awhile? I'm sick of searching for answers to the "BIG QUESTIONS." It's exhausting. Love, Ren

So, here I am. Scraping the bottom of the barrel, wondering who I am and what needs to be changed.

And in the meanwhile, CRAZY EAST COAST WINTER STORM PART II is headed up the coast from Texas. It looks like travel is going to be an absolute bitch over the next few days. Great.

The good news is that today I ate Qdoba AND Wawa in ONE DAY. Mmmmm....

It never rains....

2007-02-21T16:47:00.000-07:00

My gramma died on Monday. She died in the morning, so I didn't get to see her before she died. This makes me sad.

Horn playing is going okay. Not great. Just okay. This didn't really turn out to be the relaxing trip home that I had hoped it would be. The shit just keeps raining down on me wherever I go, it seems.

Good thing: I'm in Washington D.C. right now visiting KS, and about to go see BM sing in a church gig! It'll be great to see a familiar face. Hell, it might be good to catch up with God a little too. I can't remember the last time I was in a church and didn't get paid for it. For that matter, I can't remember the last time I was in a church when I WAS getting paid. Anyway, even though I'm not sure I even believe in God anymore, it might not hurt to say hello, just in case.

I got called for three gigs in Philly yesterday. The first I thought was cool. The second call was sort of uncanny, and by the third call, I decided it might be some cosmic sign about moving back. Perhaps it was "You should move back here sooner rather than later." Or even, "You can't get out of Calgary fast enough, honey. You're needed here."

If I move back, will things get better? God I hope so. They can't get worse. I have to go to church, I'll think about it then. (Ha.)

Tired.

2007-02-18T20:46:00.000-07:00

I can't figure out if I'm tired because I didn't get much sleep last night, or tired because my brain has been working on overdrive. I think I might be starting to "let myself down" as I anticipate being back where I can lay on my parents' couch, K's couch, AS's couch, or AU's couch and NOT be in Calgary.

My employer did not hire a replacement for me, which is something I'm happy to talk to anyone in person about, but I just can't bring myself to blog about. Suffice it to say that I feel slightly vindicated, and we'll leave it at that.

So I'll be home for a week: those of you who know where to reach me on my "US Cell Phone" please PLEASE feel free to call me and catch up. I'll be driving here, there, and everywhere, but will definitely have more than enough down time to hear all about everything from everyone.

I played again today. It was alright. Again, its just to complicated to blog about, but email or call and I'll give you all the gory details.

I'm fading fast, so I'd best end this before I fall asleep on the keyboard. I still have packing to do and need to leave the house tomorrow morning at an hour that I didn't know existed to real people.

Ah, Wawa....

Stop Stalking Me.

2007-02-18T10:09:00.000-07:00

"Even if you are receiving well-intentioned help, it may not be easy for you to graciously accept it. You might feel as if your production is not up to par; otherwise, you wouldn't need the assistance. Actually, it is your vulnerability that can increase the intimacy between you and a loved one now, so don't pretend that you have it all together if you really don't."

So, anyone want to listen to me play the horn today?

Day Six

2007-02-16T17:31:00.000-07:00

Good God. I can't wait until this crap is over. I need to get on with my life.

Ever have an "alternate reality" moment? Like one of those times when you think about where you thought you'd be, and you look at where you actually are and you say something like, "Huh. Didn't see that one coming."

My point: February 17th (tomorrow) was supposed to be "my day." I was going to permanently win my job (or at least be "tenure track") and start settling down and getting on with my life, here, in Calgary. And that is not what is going to happen. I am not going to take that audition. I'm going to go home, to Philly, and my life is going to take turns that I hadn't really anticipated.

And I have very mixed feelings about that, as you all might imagine. Part of me is relieved and happy to get out of here. But another part of me feels that nagging failure, that wish that things really had gone the way I wanted them to.

You don't learn things about yourself when things are going well. Its the low times where we learn things, because that's when we HAVE to take a long hard look at our lives.

I keep saying this, but everything happens for a reason. There is a reason for all this. I don't know what it is yet, but it'll show itself, I hope.

Day Five...

2007-02-15T21:47:00.000-07:00

Still boring.

But I got acupuncture this morning! It was neat! I'd highly recommend it.

And now, I'm drinking hot buttered rum and watching Grey's Anatomy.

I made the mistake of buzzing on my mouthpiece today. Bad idea. I had sort of hoped that everything would be perfect. Alas, it was not. So now, I'm back to worrying that I'll never fix whatever the issue is. I know that's not true, but the fear crept back in a little bit.

I just need to let it go. Let it all go...

And this rum is going to help. Cheers!

Day Four Was...

2007-02-14T21:38:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. God. I. Might. Die. From. Boredom.

I have now completed the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. Lemme tell ya, its a lot shorter when you fast forward through the battle scenes. That is almost unfortunate, as passing time was sort of one of my goals today.

I went to a yoga class. That was alright. And I caught up with some friends "back East" on the phone. And while I thought of calling some people in town to amuse me tonight, most of them are "coupled" so they are busy doing all the crappy shit I blogged about this morning.

Last night I made a casserole. When I told KS that I was cooking a rice casserole, he asked if I was nesting. I laughed, but it was a slightly disturbing question. It turned out well, but now I have a HUGE vat of cheesy rice casserole in my fridge, so that's all I'll be eating until I head back to PA on Monday. This casserole involved three cups of uncooked rice. If you consider that each cup yields 4 cups of cooked rice... That's a whole lotta casserole for one person.

Okay, I'm blogging about casserole. Sorry.

Day Four Will Be....

2007-02-14T10:44:00.000-07:00

Boring.

I have no plans. I have some exercises from the physio to do, but by my calculations, that should take about 20 minutes, max.

The good news is, it has finally stopped snowing. It has been snowing nonstop for about 5 days, and I'm getting a little sick of it. It wasn't a heavy snowfall, but it was fairly constant. Sure, the snow is beautiful. And its so cold that the snow has that fine, powdery, sparkly quality about it. But I am tired of brushing off my car, and I'm tired of fishtailing around ever curve. (Please note: I have not seen a single snowplow. No exaggeration, I haven't even seen ONE and the accumulation is at least 8 inches.)

So the sun is out, which is sure to improve my overall outlook. Oh, but its Valentine's Day. I just checked, and I've never blogged about my feelings on this most heinous of holidays. The time is now, because hell, all I have is time. Two years ago, I had not yet entered the blogosphere, and last year, I was so elated by the opportunity to sub with Philly that I didn't even notice the holiday.

Now, before I get off on a rant, let me clarify: I'm a chic, so I like things like flowers. I like it when men hold doors for me, or tell me that I look nice, or make me dinner, or take me out somewhere. It makes me feel good. I'm not poo-pooing these gestures. But buy me flowers because you missed me, or buy me flowers because I had a bad day, or a really good day. Take me out because it is the 49th day that we've been dating, or tell me I look nice because I got my hair cut today. Don't do it out of obligation, do it out of love.

I generally think that if you love someone, you should tell them. We should probably tell them often, because its likely that we don't say it enough. And birthdays and anniversaries, sure, they are special because they mark a special importance in a relationship. But February 14th? What significance does that hold in your life?

Valentines Day places an awful lot of pressure on all parties, especially men. Now, I think that many (not most, but many) men probably need a little help in expressing their emotions. Valentines Day does provide a good opportunity for that, and there are enough easy rules to follow that don't involve too much original thought: Dinner, Flowers, Chocolate. You don't need to be terribly observant to figure those things out. But THE PRESSURE! Society has turned Valentines Day into this big grand gesture and YOU'D BETTER NOT MESS IT UP! And why?**

If you are in a relationship and it isn't perfect (because most relationships aren't) you are supposed to turn away from all that to have a day to gaze into each other's eyes and pretend like nothing is wrong. And if you aren't in a relationship, you are made to feel bad because no one is gazing into your eyes, pretending nothing is wrong. I don't really believe that anyone feels good on Valentine's, but maybe I'm just bitter.

So am I missing something, here? I'm not going to lie: if a dozen roses showed up on my doorstep today, I wouldn't turn them down. But I also wouldn't acknowledge them as a Valentine's gift. I would acknowledge them as a beautiful gesture which happened to show up for no apparent reason on a random day in February.

Am I fooling myself, here? Reader(s), especially guys, can you weigh in on this? Valentine's Day: Good or Bad? Thoughts?

**I'd like to note that it would be awful to go out in Calgary on Valentine's this year. The roads are terrible and there's a labor shortage. Every restaurant is going to be swamped, and every restaurant is understaffed. It seems like it would be difficult to pretend you are happy under those circumstances.

Day Three Is...

2007-02-13T15:21:00.000-07:00

Okay, here's what I learned today: Physiotherapists are possibly the best doctors on the planet. I saw a wonderful doctor today who really made me aware of the tensions and idiosyncrasies in my body. She gave me some exercises, let me lie on a warm heating pad for awhile, and I'm seeing her again in a few days. I might even get some acupuncture for my back, which is kinda neat, although a little creepy.

I'd also like to take a moment to praise Canadian Healthcare. Incredible.

Today I have also cleaned out my car, done a load of laundry, and will probably start baking soon. I'll let you know how that goes. Good grief, its not like I have anything else to do.

Day Two Was....

2007-02-13T15:19:00.000-07:00

Day Two was yesterday. I found that it is helpful to be at home as little as possible. Whatever this entails, I need to do it.

On the other hand, I also had the time to sit at home and watch the first Lord of the Rings movie (for the second or possibly third time.)

My chops feel like they are healing. They don't feel bruised, and they feel "normal." (Only brass players would really know what I mean, I think. The rest of you can just imagine.)

Day One: Update

2007-02-11T23:46:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm headed to bed soon and here's my thoughts for the day:

1) Don't say things like, "All I need now is for something to go wrong with my car!" That's just not cool. Especially when you are me, lately. My car is leaking coolant. Again. Dammit.

2) The reason that it is so hard to take time off when you are a musician is that it is counter to everything that we are taught. William Westney talks about this in his book, "The Perfect Wrong Note," the concept that you often have to work easier, not work harder. But we are taught that in music, if there is something you can't do, the best idea is to get into the practice room and work it until you get it. NOT playing is not how we generally solve our musical problems. Taking time off is laziness.

3) And when we do manage to take time off (vacations, holidays, whatever) that is usually a conscious decision. And you know that when you come back to it, if you were healthy before you took the time, you will likely be healthy afterwards. Sure, you'll be a little out of shape, it'll take a day or two, but you'll come back as strong (sometimes stronger) than you were before. But when you take time off because of injury, there is a lot of trepidation about "coming back." Will I be able to come back? Will this help me? Maybe the problem is that I didn't practice enough, so maybe taking time off is the wrong decision!

4) I've had lots of people roll their eyes at me today for expressing how difficult it is to take time away from my instrument. And I don't blame them, I'm not coming at this from a position of anger at those people. If I was them, a week off would sound pretty good to me right now too. But I am in the middle of my first season as a full time orchestral musician, and I've managed to put myself in a situation where I can't play. I know that this is a learning experience, I know that I will come out of this okay, I know that "that which does not kill you will only make you stronger." But right now, I can't shake the feeling that I've failed and let people down.

Seven Days Without The Horn

2007-02-11T09:04:00.000-07:00

Day One:

I left my horn at the hall last night because we were going out to the Hop-In-Brew last night (why would we go anywhere else?) and I thought, "I'll just pick it up tomorrow." And then I had the abrupt thought that maybe I should just leave it. I don't actually have to pick it up for another week, and right now, I'm happy its not in the house taunting me.

I know I'm doing the right thing. My face was in physical pain last night from the pressure I was using to play. It didn't sound very great either, as I'm sure you can imagine. The tension levels in my body are at about an 11 on a scale of 1 to 10. A massage and a dinner party today with friends could alleviate it, but we'll see.

I have a laundry list of things to do this week, like getting my stuff together for my incredibly complicated taxes, making apple pull-apart bread (delicious, but time consuming!) watching Season 1 and Season 2 of Grey's Anatomy, and possibly watching the "Lost" DVDs. I'm also going to try to take a little road trip and get out of here. Banff, Lake Louise, and Emerald Lake are on my itinerary, but I don't have any solid plans.

I'm also headed home, though I have yet to book the ticket. I'm really dragging my feet on that and I don't know why. Perhaps its because I am afraid I won't come back to Calgary...

So we'll see how it goes. There's a big part of me that feels really defeated right now, but I'm trying really hard not to let it get to me. This is difficult.

The Thot Plickens

2007-02-08T19:32:00.000-07:00

For those of you following the gory details of my life, wondering how/what I'm doing...

At some point (I think in December) I overdid it with my embouchure and then developed lots of strategies for "compensating" for it. What I needed was time off, but didn't give it to myself and now I'm worse off for it. My high range has gone to shit and everyone who has seen/heard it says "yeah, that's no good..." A particularly difficult Education series next week made me go to the Principal horn and ask for some time off. This resulted (to my serious surprise) in him telling me that he supported me in taking disability leave and coming up with numerous solutions to the problem of personnel for the week. I am, at this stage, dumbfounded.

This is undoubtedly the hardest thing I've ever done... I'm not one to shirk responsibility when it comes to work. But when I thought about never being able to play again because I couldn't say "I need time off" well... And not only that, there are provisions in the CBA for things like this. Its called "disability leave." I have health insurance for the first time in my life that covers physiotherapy, massage therapy, and any number of other doctors that I didn't really know existed before. So why not? Really, why not give the doctors something to do? Hell, I have a lot of time off in front of me, why not go see all of them just for fun?

And as long as we're talking about time off-- anybody want a houseguest? I won't be bringing my horn.

Things I Have Learned (Or Relearned)

2007-02-08T17:10:00.000-07:00

1) Trust your instincts. If your gut is telling you that someone is not entirely trustworthy, you are probably right. Don't wait around to be proven right.

2) When you meet people you know you can trust, cultivate the friendship and trust. I'm not talking about someone you trust to pay you back a dollar, I'm talking about who you trust with your secrets, who you trust to be there when you need them, who you trust to not let you down. These are the ones who will come over in the middle of the night to remind you that you are great, or the ones who call every two days to make sure you aren't dead. Cultivate these friendships, even when they are miles away, because at some point, you will need them. They will be your saving grace in times of crisis.

3) If you think, as a horn/brass player, that you have hurt your face somehow, FOLLOW THAT INSTINCT. Continuing to play usually just makes things worse. No crappy gig is worth the rest of your life, in terms of playing. With that said, sometimes you just have to make it through. But be smart.

4) Don't be afraid to ask for help, particularly if you are hurt. It is better that people know that you are having "chop problems" than that they think you just plain suck. This is really hard for brass players because it is like an admission of defeat for many of us to admit that we might not be able to do something. But as someone wisely told me yesterday, "If you were a tennis player and you tore a muscle in your arm, two days later, you would not be lifting weights again."

5) Take yourself seriously, and know in your mind and heart that you have the tools to solve the problems that arise. I'm talking mostly about playing horn, but it applies to the rest of your life as well. I have two advanced degrees in horn playing, and one certificate. I've studied with some of the greatest people on the planet. I can fix this.

6) No one else is going to take care of you. That sounds harsh and pessimistic, but it really is true. No one else can put in the time and the work to fix your problems, be they a lack of high range or a funny double buzz. People can offer suggestions: take them or leave them. Trust that you know the difference between a good idea for you, and one where you say, "Well, that works well for him, but that's just not my style...."

7) Don't ever lose sight of your fundamentals. Ever. Find a warmup/maintenance session that works for you and keep with it. Every day. And when things start going wrong, take it back to the most basic component of horn playing: air.

8) If you aren't happy where you are, figure out how to make yourself happy. Everything is not going to be hunky-dory all the time. Figure out what are "deal breakers" in terms of your happiness. You deserve the absolute best, don't settle.

9) Stop telling yourself what you "should" want and figure out what you ACTUALLY want. I "should" want a principal position. But I don't. And that's okay.

10) Stop being so damn hard on yourself! If I talked to other people the way I talk to myself in my head, no one would be friends with me. Be kind to yourself. Try it-- it has worked wonders for me.

11) When you feel unfabulous, declare it "Be Nice To Me Day." Buy some soap. Buy a pretty shirt. Get a massage. Get your haircut. Try not to let the stresses (and there are so many) manifest themselves in your outer appearance. "Fake it 'till you make it."

Today I....

2007-02-05T00:16:00.000-07:00

Today I was not hungover. The wheels on my car did not fall off, and I did not do bodily harm to myself or anyone else. I did not throw my horn, or even my mute, for that matter. I listened to "Eye to the Telescope" (KT Tunstall's Grammy nominated album) at least twice, and I listened to some Schoenberg and Mendelssohn as well. I realized that in addition to making a killer risotto, my friend JW is a badass bass player. Badass.

I walked to the hall. I put one foot in front of the other until I got there. It took me awhile, but it was nice. It was basically the same route I take when I drive, except that I noticed a lot more things, like the cool houses and people walking their dogs.

I called my mother. I talked to KS, finally. I was going to call AB, but I realized that since he's a teacher, he probably has to wake up in the morning, so I'll call him at a more opportune hour tomorrow. I talked to AU for at least 45 minutes.

I did not watch the Superbowl.

I practiced. A lot. I did a huge amount of mouthpiece buzzing and harmonic series slurs. The sound of mouthpiece buzzing for over 30 minutes can get very annoying. Trust me on this.

Today, I didn't cry. Not once. I also didn't quit playing. I also didn't really get very angry about anything. I had a few good giggles. MB tried to french braid my hair, which was pretty amusing. I decided I need some cute clothes and a haircut, and I need to stop feeling like a dumpy lard-ass. I am not a dumpy lard ass. That's just dumb. I am going to be blissfully single, or at least I'm going to tell myself that I'm going to be blissfully single.

I'm starting a list of movies to see. All recommendations will be considered, but the darker, the better. No sad-sack chic flicks, preferably dark humor, a la "Harold and Maude" or "Bullets Over Broadway."

Today was pretty good. How are you?

People think I'm resilient.

2007-02-02T23:11:00.000-07:00

I have had a number of people tell me recently that I am a very resilient person. This was a very nice thing for them to say, but what does that mean? I guess we always have choices. I could choose to ball myself up in the fetal position and hide under my blankets with only my stuffed animals to keep me company. (Don't get me wrong; there has been a fair amount of this lately, it just isn't terribly prolonged.) Or I could completely withdraw, but misery does love company, and I've never been good at being a hermit, let alone a miserable hermit.

I mean, aren't we all resilient? Short of throwing myself into the Bow River (which probably wouldn't work since its frozen right now), I don't know what being "not resilient" would mean. Don't we all just take things as they come, deal with them as best we know how, and get on with our lives? I don't feel very resilient right now. I feel empty, lost, and lonely. Which is not to say that I'm not surrounded by loving, supportive, and wonderful people who have made it abundantly clear that they love me. (Really, I don't know where I'd be without y'all.) It just means that, when I'm alone, I feel VERY alone. When confronted with mundane tasks, I feel like I can't do them, or can't be bothered to do them. When people ask the simple pleasantry, "How are you?" I stare blankly, not sure whether I should just take the easy route and say "fine" (which is sort of true because technically I'm still standing on two feet and breathing) or just tell them the other truth, which is something to the effect of "I'm having the worst week of my life. How are you?"

People think I'm resilient. Should I tell them that I cry at the drop of a hat? Should I tell them that when I think about my gramma, I get very VERY sad? Should I tell them that when I think about her cancer, I think about all of the people in my life (a growing list) who have been affected either directly or indirectly by this? Should I tell them that I'm not only talking about my grandparents (three, now, affected by terminal cancer), but my also aunt, and one of my closest friends from graduate school? Should I tell them how mad it makes me, mad enough to punch something? Or should I tell them about how I grew up next door to my grandparents and can't imagine a world where my parents and grandparents don't live 100 yards from each other?

People think I'm resilient. Should I tell them how lonely I am? How I just want someone who is going to love me and hold me and tell me that everything is okay? Should I tell them that I feel like less of a person for wanting that? That I feel like a failure because I haven't found that special someone who "makes my socks roll up and down"? Should I tell them that I feel like a walking cliche for wanting those things?

So I'm resilient... Should I tell them that I dread going to work tomorrow? Should I tell them that I don't want to look BH in the face because if he even says a word to me, I just might cry? Or even worse, I might tell him what I REALLY think of him and his behavior as of late? Should I tell them that every time I get in my car, I think about continuing to drive in a southeasterly direction until I get to Philadelphia?

People think I'm resilient. I hope they are right, because I don't feel like I know myself well enough to know either way.

I am still lucky.

2007-02-02T00:16:00.000-07:00

The shit has hit the fan. My life is falling apart. My grandparents are slipping away from me, my job is not going as I had planned, and I feel stuck in western Canada.

But I am still lucky.

My best friend still calls every day. When she doesn't hear from me for more than 48 hours, she leaves messages that say, "Are you dead? I am certain you are dead since I haven't heard from you. I'm going to be very upset to find out you are dead."

My mom still loves me and wants to keep me safe from everything that is bad. Nevermind that at age of 26, I do realize that the world is full of things that are not good... But its what moms do, and my mom happens to be very good at it.

My "emergency contact" as I've started referring to him, JW, will always be there with a shoulder for me to cry on. And for fuck's sake, I've been crying enough lately. His shoulder must be soaked.

KS calls me every day. Just to make sure I haven't thrown myself off a bridge. Sometimes he calls twice. And when he says he'll call, he always does.

E-AP and EH are still talking to me and constantly telling me that the invitation to stay with them at Banff is always open. I don't know why they continue to talk to me, since every time I correspond with them, I turn into a raging bitch. This is my public apology. Guys, I love you both even though I haven't known you very long. Your friendship means the world to me and I'm sorry I've been so incredibly difficult lately.

Horn players that literally span the globe have been supportive and offering their condolences, proper indignations, and helpful advice to me. RG spent over an hour on the phone with me last night discussing the finer points of contracts, playing devil's advocate where necessary, and reminding me to hang in there.

DS told me today that everyone loves me. Even though I feel empty and lost, he reassured me that my friends, who are like gold right now, are there. And for once, even for me who has trouble trusting or believing anyone... I believe him.

I am blessed. I think I am at the absolute end of my rope, but I am blessed.

All of you, thank you. I'm fairly certain that I'm not done needing your support and kind words. I'm also fairly certain that I'm not done thanking you, and not done reminding you that if you ever need the favor returned, I will be there for you. I promise.

Maybe its not just me.

2007-02-01T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've been reading this advice column "Since You Asked" by Cary Tennis. It is written daily on salon.com, which is chock-full of thought provoking articles. Today's Q+A with Mr. Tennis hit home so strongly with me, I feel my eyes brimming with tears (for like the 12th time today; I'm emotionally unstable, after all...) after reading it. The topic is writing, and the person asking the advice is asking if her relationship with another person can/should trump her career goals. But rather than taking the standard answer to the question, he talks about nurturing his writing, not because of what it does for his outer self, but for what it does for his inner self, his soul.

"...take care of your writing as you would take care of an animal or a child. Do not send it out into the world to do an adult's job. Just take care of it and, in its own way, it will take care of you."

Change "writing" to "music" and I find so much truth in that statement. My life is falling apart. I moving back home in June, and will probably not really turn to look back here, at least for awhile. My playing is in shambles and my relationships seem to be slowly flushing themselves down the toilet that is my life. I am without direction and unmotivated, searching desperately for a way out of this hole, but trying to get out often finds me digging myself even deeper. I want to know what is wrong with me, and I can't even find something "right" about myself.

If music, like writing, is a "tool for becoming who you are," as Mr. Tennis puts it, then I at least have something to hold onto, for now.

Rock Bottom.

2007-01-30T17:01:00.000-07:00

No, not the brewery, although I could seriously go for some good microbrews right now...

I'm talking about rock bottom, as in "I have hit rock bottom."

Today I was told a number of things that are a serious blow to anyone's ego, but particularly mine at this time:

1) Even if you play like a GOD at this audition, you will not get hired.

2) Everyone thought you came back from vacation out of shape and unprepared, also unable to play your descant.

3) Certain individuals in the section don't think that women should be leading a section.

***

So, I've been vague, not wanting to admit any sort of weakness here on the world wide web. But here's what's happened: For a variety of reasons, I've become unable to play horn. Like, making a sound has become difficult. During the break (the one where I allegedly was not practicing and not learning the music) I was actually having lessons with everyone, trying to figure out just how to get a buzz back, let alone play Mozart 29.

Should I have admitted my injuries during the Nutcracker? Probably. But who wants to admit weakness to a section they are trying to impress? Who wants to say "Yeah, I can't cut it?" Not me, and probably not you either. Have I learned a lesson? Hell yeah. Will I take full responsibility? Of course I will. Did I make a mistake? Yes. Am I new at this? Yes.

So, what now? Do I slink back to Philly with my tail between my legs? As much as I might want that, it isn't really an option. As small as the world might be, the music world is miniscule. The last thing I want is a reputation as "the horn player who runs away." Long term, I know that I would be very angry with myself if I did that.

Do I take the audition? No. There is no point. This is clearly not the job for me, and clearly not the right position within the section either. I don't want to waste their time, or mine for that matter. Right now, the only thing I need to worry about is getting my playing back on track. If that means sitting around playing whatever section parts they want me to play or only playing the easiest of the easy stuff, then so be it. That decision is out of my hands.

And as for people thinking that women can't play horn, well, once I figure this out I'm going to be at least four times the player that this particular expatriate is, and I won't be stuck in Calgary with antiquated ideas about gender roles.

Seems like up until now, every curse has been a blessing in disguise. I see no reason why this would be any different, although that doesn't make it suck any less for the time being.

Sometimes all you need is a good slap in the face

2007-01-28T01:12:00.000-07:00

Although I have been rotated off the new opera being premiered this week, I still went out after the performance tonight to hear all the gory details from my friends who were not so fortunate. I did catch the dress rehearsal of this opera a few nights ago, but that's not the point of my story. If I'm feeling verbose, I might blog about it at a later time.

I don't even remember what we were talking about at the bar, but I made one of my patently self-deprecating remarks to the extent of "Well, after I DON'T win my job, I'd be..."

But I was unable to finish the thought because out of nowhere, one of my very dearest friends was smacking me across the forehead. He then yelled something to the extent of "For fuck's sake, would you stop that?"

Now, Reader(s), those of you who know me also know that it is very rare that I am rendered completely speechless. But I was.

He was completely right. I have got to stop thinking like this. I truly cannot remember the last time that someone smacked me. And I REALLY can't remember the last time that I thought that getting smacked on the forehead was the best thing that anyone could have done for me.

Thanks, JW.

Chinooks as a metaphor for my life.

2007-01-26T10:21:00.000-07:00

After a fairly unsuccessful audition in Philadelphia early this week, I came back to Calgary feeling like maybe, just maybe, I had hit rock bottom. And since I have hit rock bottom in the past, I knew that there was only one place to go from there: Up.

A very dear friend of mine on the East Coast summed it up pretty well: "You don't like your job, you had a really bad audition, you live really far away, your relationships are tanking, you horn playing sucks, and you're lonely as hell. The only thing lacking is a death in the family, but you have basically hit the bottom. Now what are you gonna do about it?"

Now, those of you who know me also know that this is the part where I completely started bawling and curled up into a little ball and started thinking that hiding under a rock would be a good alternative to what I am currently living. But this is a good guy, so he also knew that what I needed was a hug and the reminder that, in fact, it would be okay.

I'm finding that I do a lot of my best thinking on planes. Perhaps its that cathartic hum of the engine, or the solidarity of knowing that you really can't move for the next two hours or so. But as my plane started the descent into Calgary I thought, "Something's gotta give. I'm really not happy here. And I'm the only one who can possibly be responsible for that." It sounds simple enough, but it was a pretty enlightening epiphany.

Now, one of the good things about Calgary's weather is that every few weeks or so, a chinook rolls in from the mountains. A chinook is (as defined by Dictionary.com) a warm, dry wind that blows at intervals down the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains.

That doesn't make it sound NEARLY as great as it actually is when it happens. Chinooks are accompanied by very strong winds, the kind that blow leaves and debris around and knock over the garbage can outside. They are winds that rattle your house and make whistling noises in alleyways. But there's another sound that I've come to associate with a chinook, and that is the sound of snow melting, water flowing into drainage ditches, and accumulating into puddles outside my door. One of the prettiest byproducts of a chinook is the arch that forms in the west, right above the mountains. Its hard to describe, so I found a photo.

What you can't see is that the arch stretches the entirety of the horizon. But anyway...

The sky is blue, the temperature is rising RAPIDLY, and the snow is melting. Its hard not to see that as some kind of metaphor for what I'm going through right now. I'm not happy in my life, and with myself. So of course my horn playing is sucking! And of course, I'm the only one who can really deal with that. Enough of waiting for the approval of others, I need the approval of myself before I can get a damn thing done around here! If I talked to other people the way I talk to myself in my own mind, no one would be my friend. Maybe its time I started making friends with myself for once, rather than worrying about everyone else's needs.

A chinook has blown into my life, both literally and figuratively. Cheesy as it is, I just have to go with it. Things are looking up.

Opera rocks.

2007-01-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

I've been getting into opera lately. I have no idea why. Well, I have an idea why. Someone told me I should really listen to Renee Fleming's "Strauss Heroines" CD. And I did. And it might have actually changed my life.

But I've been looking for a good opera duet to transcribe for two horns. And this is one of the most well-known and probably overplayed duets in all of opera from Bizet's "The Pearlfishers." Sure, its overdone maybe, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't kick some serious ass.

I'm wondering if transcribing an opera duet for horns is not a great idea since there are no words. But then, how many of us actually understand Italian anyway? It begs the question as to whether it really MATTERS what they're singing about when the music is that good. And as I always say, "Who goes to operas for the plot?"

"I'm so excited.... "

2007-01-18T20:48:00.000-07:00

Quick, Reader(s), what early 90s pop culture reference is that?

No, not the Pointer Sisters. Saved by the Bell!

Horoscopes?

2007-01-18T18:49:00.000-07:00

I recently updated my Google Homepage to include my daily horoscope. I've always been one to read horoscopes out of sheer silliness. I really don't place any stock in them, although I will admit to displaying many of the classic characteristics of my astrological sign. Here's the "best of...."

Moon in Cancer natives have a large potential to be able to get in touch with the feelings and moods of others. Often, they are quite wrapped up in themselves. ... Moon in Cancer people are never detached—they cling to things, their home, and people they care for... They may dwell on hurts long after everyone else has moved on...These people can have a hard time compartmentalizing their lives, simply because their watery Moon tends to know no boundaries. Sometimes, as a result, they may act irrationally...One of the most delightful characteristics of Moon in Cancer people is their loony sense of humor. These people can be extraordinarily funny. Their moodiness can baffle others, but their unique outlook on life is something most people can appreciate...When treated with tenderness and understanding, Moon in Cancer natives return the favor with warmth and protection...These people are wonderfully dependable overall, despite their occasional mood swings.

To sum up: Moody, irrational, loony, dependable. Got it. Fine, sure, whatever. I could probably find some truth in any of the other signs as well, but my point is that while its interesting, I don't think it really DRIVES my life.

Except that today, I think that whomever writes my horoscope is spying on me:

You are ready to jump in and do what needs to be done. There's no wasting time on frivolous activities for you these days. Still, you are now inclined to put on a professional outward appearance, for you know this will ultimately bring you closer to the quiet and cozy security that you seek. Remember, you don't have to give up what you want; instead, just wait a while longer.

My reaudition for what I have begun to see as "my job" has been affecting my life and thoughts pretty regularly lately. I'm asking all the big questions of myself: What do I want from a relationship? What do I want from my career? How can I reconcile the two? Am I even going to be in Calgary next year? What if I am, and what if I'm not? And the only answer is to be as professional as possible, focus on what needs to be done, and wait.

I guess I didn't really need my horoscope to tell me that, but I find the whole thing to be a little creepy.

Missing.

2007-01-17T10:24:00.000-07:00

Someone asked me a very provocative question yesterday. Let me set the stage:

Work hasn't been what I'd hoped for lately. I haven't been playing well and my self esteem has taken a very serious blow. I'm questioning everything that I do and know, and really beginning to think about what I want, both from my personal life and from my career. This is not necessarily a bad thing, as it has been very thought provoking and a real learning process. But...

I was talking to this person about getting feedback from colleagues. I was recently home (as most of you know) and got a lot of interesting feedback about my playing from people who's opinions I respect, and who have known my playing for a year or more. It was incredibly cathartic for me to hear other people's opinions that, indeed, I didn't sound like I used to. But I started talking about feedback and how important it is that other people think that I'm a good person/good horn player. And he said,

"What's missing in your life that you so desperately need other people's approval?"

Whoa. In one simple sentence, this guy managed to open a can of worms in my brain. I have always sought the attentions of other people. I bask in it. I thrive on it. And if I'm not getting the attention I want, I immediately believe that there must be something wrong with me. I immediately believe that I have to work harder, be smarter, be better, be prettier, be WHATEVER in order to fit into exactly the positive light that someone else will (hopefully) see me in. As you can imagine, this is very difficult, and I spend an awful lot of mental (and physical) energy being incredibly hard on myself. And while I believe that this accounts for a great deal of my successes, I'm not certain its the healthiest way of going about things. Its hard on other people too, because I tend to push away the very people who's attentions I crave while I'm trying to be "better."

So... what's missing? I know that everyone craves positive feedback, but why is mine a driving force in my life? Where did this come from? And how can I really be okay just being, well... me?

Barbie vs. Condi

2007-01-15T15:06:00.000-07:00

I really enjoy the series "This I Believe" that is broadcast on NPR every Monday.

I caught a little of the news flurry surrounding Senator Barbara Boxer's comments towards Condoleeza Rice this morning. Basically, Barbie informed Condi that she didn't have anything to lose in Iraq because she's single and has no kids. To be fair, Barbie also pointed out that she herself has nothing to lose because her children are too old to go to war and her grandchildren are too young. Now, I don't actually think that Barbie was trying to insult Condi's singleness. I think she was just trying to make the point that there are real people in the US who are dealing with the Iraq war in a much more personal way than those who are actually MAKING the policies that send our troops off to war.

The media is making this out to be something WAY bigger than it probably is. Was Barbie out of line? Maybe. Probably. Does Condi have anything to worry about? No. I'm sure she'd have no trouble finding a husband if that was what she wanted. I mean, she seems to have gotten everything else she could ever want or desire. She's a fucking smart lady, whether you agree with her policies or not. (Sidebar: This is probably the first and last time that I will come to the defense of Condoleeza Rice.)

So the media is having a field day. But I'd like to try to keep it in perspective: regardless of whether Condi is married, single or sending her kids to war, the fact remains that Americans and Iraqis are dying every day. Who got us into this? George W. Bush. Who's gonna get us out of it? I don't know. But lets not lose sight of the fact that this is a very VERY real war to many Americans who HAVE to believe, every day, that their husbands will call them tomorrow.

You're it.

2007-01-15T00:34:00.000-07:00

My New York buddy tagged me on this. So here it goes.

Five things you probably don't know about me:

1) At least once a week, on my way home from work, I stop at the 7-11 on the corner and buy about $2 worth of gummy candy. (It used to be called penny candy, but I guess it would be nickel candy now.) I eat all of it by the time I walk the two short blocks home.

2) When I was five years old, I wanted to be Cyndi Lauper. I didn't want to be like her, I wanted to be her.

3) I just got a magnetic poetry set for my fridge and I really like it. I've always hated poetry. And yet, I just love arranging all the words on the fridge. Its really cathartic.

4) I don't really know my right from my left. I have to think about it, sometimes for awhile.

5) I have always wanted to buy a junker horn and throw it off a really high building like the Calgary Tower and then hang it on my wall. Or I'd like to keep it around for "those days" so I could just beat it up for fun, then rehang it on the wall.

Oh, here's a bonus track:

6) I know its really super geeky, but I really want a tattoo of a horn. Probably on my shoulder. I don't know that I will actually ever do this. Maybe if I ever reach tenured status in an orchestra.

I do this thing...

2007-01-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

I went to the gym today and had a really great workout. But I realized that I do this thing.... and maybe some of you do it too and can tell me that I'm not fucking crazy. Ok, here it goes.

When I see a guy who I find physically attractive, I almost automatically look at the ring finger of his left hand to see if he's married. Now, keep in mind, Reader(s), that I have NO INTENTION of approaching these men. I'm hardly even checking them out. I don't go to the gym to pick up guys. I don't even go to the gym so I can talk to anyone else. If I want to talk, there are any number of people in my life that I can call when I'm not wearing workout clothing and sweating it out on the treadmill, or balancing precariously on a bosu ball. But during my workout, I do not converse with other people beyond "Are you done with those weights?"

So these are the questions that arise in my mind:

If I have no intention of even talking to these men or ever really looking at them again, why am I looking to see if they are married?

Do you do this too, or am I the only one?

Does this have an air of desperation about it? And if so, can you smell my desperation from far away, or is it just from arm's length?

I eagerly await your answers.

Cold.

2007-01-11T16:48:00.001-07:00

Oh my god. Its so cold.

Food.

2007-01-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

For some reason I didn't seem to find time to go to the grocery store today, so I still have NO food in the house. And yet, I managed to find enough ingredients to make banana bread. I'm pretty proud of this fact. Luckily, I had frozen bananas, and my experiment in defrosting them in the microwave has (so far) worked out alright.

Now, I've always thought of myself as a "good cook." Then I met the likes of JW and DS and realized that, no, I'm not really a good cook. I do alright, I mean, you aren't going to die if you eat the food I make. But I pretty much try to keep things as simple as possible. Hell if I'm not a damn good baker, though. When I shared this revelation with my mom, who says the same thing about herself, she said, "Well, you come by that honestly." I guess it runs in the family.

Now, banana bread isn't exactly complicated. Quite the contrary, it is the opposite of complicated, which is probably why I managed to muster up the ingredients in my exceptionally empty cupboards. This bread is perfect for its flavor, easy assembly, and versatility. Its great for breakfast, and perfect for a midmorning/afternoon/evening snack. Its also nearly impossible to screw up, and hard even to overcook, since it has such a high moisture content from the bananas. So here you go...

1 1/4 C Flour
1 C Sugar
1 tsp. Baking Soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 C vegetable oil
2 very ripe bananas
2 whole eggs
Throw in cinnamon or walnuts if you want to get fancy.

Put ingredients in bowl in the order listed. Mix together. Place in GREASED 9" bread pan. Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Enjoy!

Probably the only thing that is difficult is remembering to grease the pan. Good luck.

On auditions.

2007-01-09T17:14:00.000-07:00

Occasionally, I get the fortune of celebrating a new job with friends. I love that. I love the phone call, "I WON!" I was fortunate to be subbing with Philly when CJ won her coveted position there. Now, there was obvious excitement about her position as the youngest member of the orchestra and also the only woman tubist in a Top 5 orchestra. But just feeling that energy and elation of winning a job, whether it is a regional orchestra or a top 5, is incredible.

But more often than not, as musicians, we are confronted with "I didn't advance," or "I didn't win," or "I was runner up." In the past few months, I've had this misfortune a number of times. Whether it was personal (an audition I didn't win) or hearing the gory details from a friend or colleague, its always difficult to know what to say.

I blogged about this a year and a half ago, and I stick to what I say.

It's a total crapshoot. You never really know what the committee is looking for. My teacher likened it to buying a car. The orchestra either wants to buy a Toyota or a Honda. Both are good cars, but what are they looking for? If you are selling a Honda and they decide to buy a Toyota, it doesn't mean that you are bad, its just that you aren't selling the right product.

That annoying Woody Allen quote always goes through my head as I prepare for an audition. "80% of success is showing up." And its true. If I want to WIN my job, I just have to keep going and keep trying to play well. I have to keep the faith that eventually someone will want the car I'm selling.

Until then, though, I didn't "lose" the audition in Kansas City this past weekend. If you win something (a car, contest, whatever) it is something that you didn't have already. But if you lose something, it is something that you already had. You can't lose something that you never had in the first place. So I didn't lose a job, I just didn't win it.

That doesn't mean that it isn't hard, though. To spend so much money on rejection seems downright stupid most of the time. And one's ability at auditions is not any sign of how you'll be in the orchestra. All it shows is how good you are at auditioning.

But how do you say that to someone when they're down? How do you convince someone that they are not worthless, that they do have something to contribute, and that life will go on? How do you convince someone that everything happens for a reason?

And as I ponder this, I think I've answered my own question. You can't convince someone of any of any of this. It has to come from within.

That still doesn't leave me with anything to say during the phone conversation, though. Thoughts, Reader(s)?

Home.

2007-01-08T14:17:00.000-07:00

I absolutely love Philadelphia, that is no secret. I love the accent (but thank god I don't talk like that), I love the food (even though I don't eat cheesesteaks, the pizza is incredible), I love the buildings, I love the atmosphere. One thing that I am learning as I get older is that there is a distinct difference between "being home" and "being back."

When I get back to Calgary tomorrow, I have the distinct impression that I will be just that. Back.

But when I come home to PA, it is just that. Home.

I don't know where I picked up this allegiance to this city, but jogging up the Parkway towards the Art Museum, watching the annual Mummer's Parade on Saturday, and strolling down South Street just makes me feel right. Verizon Hall at the Kimmel Center is still a place of inspiration to me, and I love the facade of the Academy of Music. If I end up back here for a period of time, whether its just the summer, or if it is a bit longer, that'll be okay.

Everything happens for a reason, and most of it appears to be completely out of my control. So why worry?

It was so good, I cried.

2007-01-06T10:44:00.000-07:00

I really don't like Wagner very much. I never have. And not for lack of trying, I even took a class on The Ring Cycle when I was at Temple. But I just can't get a handle on it.

But last night I heard The Philadelphia Orchestra perform the Prelude from Act I of Tristan and Isolde. And it was so beautiful, I cried. Like, tears were streaming down my face. The Philadelphia Orchestra is famous for its string sound, and being in the same room as a sound like that is nothing short of an honor. I glanced down at my program at one point and looked up to see who was playing the violin solo. But it was no solo, it was the entire first violin section. Their intonation was so perfect, their bowing so together, it sounded like 14 people were simply one person. When the basses and celli hit those Wagner-esque pizzacatos, it was like one giant string resonating together.

After that, the premiere of a new concerto for bass and orchestra by John Harbison, performed by the inimitable Hal Robinson, the orchestra's principal bass and all-around great guy. Its great to hear new music that doesn't suck. Though I'm still not sure about the bass as a solo instrument (sorry JW), it was really awesome to hear it played so well.

And then, Copland's 3rd Symphony, probably the most "American" of all symphonies. First of all, I am convinced that God speaks through the trumpet of Dave Bilger. Second, I'm sure that when he's not busy speaking through Bilger's trumpet, he's speaking through Danny Matsukawa's bassoon. I don't particularly like the sound of the bassoon, but when Danny plays it, it is the most un-bassoonlike sound. And Dick Woodhams... wow, if you're going to bother playing the oboe, that's the way to do it. Its just all tone... no reedy junk, no crappy shrillness... all tone.

Sometimes the Philly Orchestra just phones it in, like we all do. Last night was not one of those times. Bravo to Marin Alsop for making sure that all of the Phabulous Philadelphians showed up and PLAYED last night. I haven't been so moved by a concert in a LOOOONG time.

So close.

2007-01-02T22:30:00.000-07:00

Wawa coffee and hoagie, I can almost smell thee.

Qdoba Veggie Burrito with all the sour cream and guacamole you can fit in that oversized tortilla, I can practically taste thee.

Philadelphia, I can practically smell you from here, and you smell like home.

Me.

2007-01-02T14:12:00.000-07:00

From Horn Geek

I have spent this whole season trying to sound like someone else. I almost injured myself in the process and I, for one, am sick of it. I cannot sound like I play a Berg. I play a Rauch. Enough of this "bright sound never missing notes" crap. Its turned me into a complete headcase. I'm just gonna be me. What's the worst that can happen? I'll go back to Philly where everyone plays a Conn and sounds like they're blowing raspberries into a bucket.

New Year, Same Me. And finally, I'm going to embrace it.

From Horn Geek

Resolve.

2007-01-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

Ah, 2007. The anticipation is killing me. Will it be nearly as good as 2006? Hard to believe that anything could be as good as 2006. I want to think that it will go down as one of my best years ever, but that's a bit limiting, isn't it? I'm feeling pretty positive about the future lately, and the immediate future holds a trip to Philadelphia to see friends and family for a week or so. I'm looking forward to that.

Hope everyone had a Happy New Year. I spent mine working-- not a bad gig if you don't mind some waltzes and pops music. Actually, its not so bad to be the entertainment when everyone is having a good time, dancing and drinking.

If you're a regular reader (ha) you know that I'm not really into holidays. And I'm also not into resolutions for the New Year. Don't get me wrong-- I think its great that the earth successfully rotated around the sun one more time, but I'm not entirely sure this is a good reason to completely change your life. It is, however, a good reason for some reflection, perhaps make some minor changes, and SET ATTAINABLE GOALS. Past resolutions have included:

2004: Recycle more.
2005: Make more "one-pot meals"
2006: No more shitty gigs. (I blogged about this one. Worth a read. It worked, too!)

And I know you're excited to hear about 2007's....

Drink more water.

***

In the spirit of the season, I recommend everyone read this, and click on the link at the bottom and listen to the recorded version. Cheesy, perhaps, but worthwhile advice from a decade ago.

Rest Stops

2006-12-30T19:02:00.000-07:00

Now, one of the coolest things about the last few days spent in Invermere was the drive. The Rocky Mountains are nothing to sniff about. They never fail to completely take my breath away and make me marvel at all of the beauty the world has to offer. The drive from Calgary to Invermere is unbelievable. First, you pass through Banff National Park, then almost immediately into Kootenay National Park. This is nothing like driving on the East Coast.

And one of the ways I realized that was when we made a pit stop on the way back. The rest stops on the PA Turnpike are more like food courts than anything. There's a plethora of fast food, some very large restrooms, and probably a Cinnabon.

But in British Columbia, this is what you get:

From Jeff's Cabin,...

And while I at first lamented the smell, I looked up and to my right. And this is what I saw:

And a few thoughts came to mind, but most notably, "Wow. I can actually get over the smell if that's the view."

And now, for some valuable advice:

If anyone ever smiles sweetly at you and tells you that you should come stand under this beautiful snowy tree, don't do it. They may look like they are sweet and nice, but they are not to be trusted, particularly if they are Canadian.

From Jeff's Photos...

Excerpt This...

2006-12-30T18:51:00.000-07:00

So, I lent my copy of "Excerpt This" to a colleague of mine at work about, oh, four months ago. And I finally got it back today. And I was just on YouTube looking for hilarious horn videos (because these things happen every once in awhile) and this guy who posts horrible videos of himself playing excerpts has posted a new video of himself playing along to a Jamie Aebersold CD. Now, its not that bad. I give this high school kid props for having the balls to post videos of his horn playing online. And you can't knock his enthusiasm, truly. But what's hilarious is that if you go to his YouTube site, you can see all the comments. And someone actually compared him to Adam Unsworth, saying "You sound like him!"

And I'm like, "Huh?"

For those of you who have heard Adam's CD, particularly the tracks where he utilizes the "half valve" as a legitimate musical technique, I think you will agree that this kid sounds NOTHING like him.

I am a geek.

2006-12-29T22:02:00.000-07:00

My First Album Cover.

2006-12-29T22:01:00.000-07:00

Things I like:

1) Canada.
2) Vacation.
3) Sledding.
4) Cooking.
5) Hanging out with friends.
6) Cabins at lakes.
7) Being in Canada, on vacation, sledding, cooking, and hanging out with your friends for a few days at a cabin by a lake.