A Festival Of The Soul

It's Thanksgiving Day and I'm enjoying a day of rest.   Most of us are starting to gear up for the holidays and after the festivities of the day, will rush right into Black Friday.  I have friends who have already decided to put up their christmas tree.

I almost did.

I've been preparing for my Portraits of White concert for so long now that I feel like putting up a tree is too miniscule.  My insides have dug so deep into reflection that the little plastic tree I normally put up seems fake and trite. The makeover of my soul through this process seems to call for a complete makeover of my decorations too....but that won't be happening. I wouldn't even know how to express my soul in the way of ornaments and trees.

My decorations will show up in every note, lyric and thought presented on the night of December 12. It will be a festivity of the soul guised in the garb of music.

I've been practicing for months, but mistakes never disappear it seems. They are like little gophers that pop up out of their hole at the most unexpected times. As soon as I get one conquered, another appears. My mode of retaliation is to "hammer down" - a pun that fits the grand piano well.

It always puzzles me how a person can work so hard and long on something and still have it go awry. Like a skater who's jumped perfectly thousands of times but falls during a competition.

I experienced that recently at one of my concerts. In the midst of a piece I've played countless times, I completely lost my way.  The only payoff in practicing, in that moment, was that I pulled myself together and kept going.  The ability to keep going was my only success in that moment. Or at least it felt like it.

I walked away feeling like a complete failure. One hour of music - lyrics remembered and all, but all I could think about was the 5 seconds of faltering.

I'm reading a book right now that a singer friend recommended.  I knew the instant she told me about it that I needed to read it...and SOON.  It arrived last week. Today I'm reading it and I feel like I've visited a doctor who has been able to prescribe medicine that will relieve my pain and I thought you might like it too.

It doesn't matter if you are a musician or not - the tendency to remember the ONE mistake you made over any successes you had is common to all of us.  The writer tells of a cello student she had who was quick to point out his own mistakes but never mentioned when he did well. He considered any good performance an "accident".

She encouraged him to speak his successes out loud, not just his mistakes.   He went on to tell his teacher, "I guess I feel that way about a lot of stuff in my life. I sort of shrug off all my successes but get preoccupied with possible failures. Pretty dumb, isn't it?"

I stopped right at that paragraph and put my book down. I reflected on the recent "failure" where I lost my way in a song. All I could remember from that night was the 5 seconds of disarray. I gave about an hour concert and everything else went very well.  In fact, there were moments when I felt like I was giving some of the best delivery ever.  But I don't remember those moments now...or at least I didn't until I read of another human being's struggle to remember the successes.

I'm thankful for this reminder to focus in on the good things. The successes, the opportunities, the blessings we have been given. I suppose that's what this day is really all about.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Never By Accident

I watched her fingers tremble as she pressed the strings against the wood, but they weren't trembling from nerves.  They were adding the rich vibrato that makes the cello sing.  Combined with her bow techniques, her poise and confidence, the little black notes on the page jumped off and brought my weary soul back to life.  Even the 'rests' were part of the moments.

I asked her if I could sit beside her and watch her play.  Her music has always touched me deep down in my soul and often makes me emotional.  When we play together, it becomes even more powerful.

How can inanimate objects like wood strung with catgut melt a person's heart? Like water that changes the shape of a hard rock over years of time.  Only my heart melts within just a few measures. A few seconds.

As I sat and beheld this amazing player on her well-worn instrument, I got new inspiration. The page she was playing from was written with piano and choir in mind.  It wasn't just for cello. Without the other members of the music performance, it would have sounded incomplete, albeit beautiful.  But it was written to go with other parts.

One page. That's all she had.  She couldn't see anything else. No choir music, no piano accompaniment.  Just her part. She had to trust that what she had would fit into the whole.

You might feel as if you are a tuba in a spa, but believe me, there is a spot for the tuba.  It adds incredible rich bass tones in the context of the whole. The gifts you have, the special wiring you came with, have a purpose and a place.

If everyone plays their individual part to the best of their ability, when it all comes together it will sound amazing, but you have to trust the person who wrote the arrangement.  You have to trust that he knew what all the other players would be doing and how your part fits in context.

Focus. Trust.  Faith.

I first wrote the piano piece called "Never By Accident" from a few simple notes. It happened by accident. But my producer wanted to add other players to what I originally thought would be a solo piano piece.  I couldn't quite catch his vision until the piece was completed.

I changed the original title from "By Accident" to the new name: "Never By Accident".  It was too beautiful to be an accident and it was now going on my CD.

You were not an accident.  You, like the piano in this song, are meant to be part of a bigger piece.

You are beautiful.  Don't shy away from letting yourself become part of something larger than you.

You weren't meant to play alone.

You were never an accident.

"The Elephant Diet" Day # 85 "Daffodils and Daydreams"

As you can see, the daffodils in my front yard have finally opened up their faces to me. They've been wanting to for days, but it's been too cold.

While they are blooming, I am dreaming.

I made contact with the tech director at Live at Rose Lehrman today and I am thrilled to know that their prices are extremely affordable. I had braced myself for a large fee, but it's completely possible!

Next step is to consider dates and then tour the facility and talk contract if that's the venue I decide to use.

Time to go for an afternoon walk and then head to the Maundy Thursday service at my church. I will enjoy the luscious tones of cello, flute, oboe and french horn, accompanied by your's truly on the grand piano. I am a blessed musician!