"Shoestring Budgets" Offer BIG Bonuses

If you have a dream (or an idea) but you don't have a big budget, try getting creative with what you DO have! Along the way, you'll discover a few bonuses that prove to be very valuable. (And just so you know, I wrote this post long before the COVID-19 virus was in full force but I still feel like these thoughts are relevant—especially now.) 

Believe me, I've had to follow my own advice and wouldn't you know, I'm already re-experiencing these bonuses. 

Shoestring budget bonus # 1:

1) You cultivate creativity.

My first attempt at a public concert was over 20 years ago. I was operating on a very tiny budget. In fact, I'm not even sure I had a budget. I don't know that I had much of a dream either. I just happened to have some songs that seemed to resonate with people and an opportunity to record those songs. So I decided to put on a concert to help pay for the recording.

I picked a venue, date and name: "A Journey Through Seasons" since that seemed to correlate with the songs I was planning to share.

Since I'm a visual person, I wanted some "props" to go with my themed concert. When I found a cow skull along the road on my walk one day, I brought it home thinking it would be the perfect prop for the "desert scene" in my concert.

My husband was horrified that I was now collecting skulls from along the roadside.😂  I simply viewed it as getting creative.

You can see the skull in the picture on the right.
I borrowed the other props from the church venue.

I discovered that I really enjoyed planning a concert, so I kept cultivating creativity over the years and paying attention to the desires of my heart. After recording my Christmas album, I started wanting to step things up a notch...well, more like, quite a few notches.

Portraits of White 2018

The fourth year into my Portraits of White concerts my stage props were a bit of an upgrade from the cow skull days—I didn't find them alongside the road either. They were gorgeous white trees (made of shower curtains) and snowflakes (made of styrofoam) hand-crafted just for the Christmas concert. After the concerts, people wanted to buy those trees. I wonder why no one ever wanted to buy the cow skull?! LOL!

Yes, my stage props have changed but having to use my creativity and ingenuity has not. The need to limit what I spend always forces me to be creative and it's a BIG bonus, though sometimes a challenge too.

Now that I am facing the cancellation and postponement of concerts, I've had to get REALLY creative.

Thanks Facebook. Now I'm able to give a concert every afternoon if I want and I can still share my music with people. It's just a different format.

Shoestring budget bonus # 2:

2) You get motivated.

When I went into full-time songwriting and concert performance, I found it to be an incredible motivator to sharpen my skills and find new ways to share my music. Loss of income, whether planned or unplanned, can be a huge motivator.

I am still learning that there is a fine line between planning something that serves as motivation and being completely overtaken by something. Like my virtual mentor, Jim Rohn, once warned: you might start out in control of your dream, but your dream can start to control you. So be careful not to plan more than you can manage. Only you know where that line is and you'll find that it might change over time as your dream grows.

Flexibility comes in real handy as things change and motivation never seems to disappear from the list of tools needed when working away at your plans.

Last but not least: one of the biggest bonuses from a shoestring budget is one that kind of snuck up on me.

Shoestring budget bonus #3:

3) You learn to cultivate contentment.

At first, it seemed like achieving my goals didn't allow room for contentment. But that's probably because I thought contentment would come once I accomplished my dream. And there IS a sense of accomplishment, but contentment goes deeper than accomplishment. In fact, cultivating contentment is the most fulfilling thing I've done while working toward my goals and dreams.

I often feel a deep satisfaction because I have attempted to do what was in my heart. It still might not look exactly like what I envisioned, but as I learn to cultivate contentment I feel at peace. Now that's a bonus I can use every day!

Don't worry, I still have my days of emotional upheaval as it relates to my dreams and goals. But I've learned that while my concerts are over within a couple of hours, contentment can be a constant companion and I'm embracing it more as I get older—both in age and in experience.

Contentment starts with changing your thinking patterns and can be cultivated AS you walk toward your dream. I've come to realize that it's a posture of the heart and mind. Its dividends are priceless.

I wish you well as you cultivate creativity, get motivated and cultivate contentment, especially during this tough season we are all facing.

Stay connected with me on Facebook and watch for the "LIVE" concert events.

Announcing the 2020 Spring Concert Series—Let's Get Together!

Over the years, after the Portraits of White concerts in December, people have suggested that I do a spring event. It's a long stretch between Decembers, so let's get together in April...May...and June! I've invited a couple of other music guests to join me. 

Join me for a relaxing, casual atmosphere.

• Four Sundays
• Four Locations (with a lovely grand piano)
• One hour of music (with Frances and other musical guests)
• FREE (Donations appreciated—give online or at the concert)
• Attend as many as you want

If you want to reserve your seat NOW...click HERE for dates, locations and times.

Shoestring Budgets

What do you do when you have big dreams and a small piggy bank? 

Maybe you have a budget, but it's only the size of a "shoestring". The other day it occurred to me that shoestrings may be small and short, but they hold my shoes together!

It's been over six years since I gathered a group of volunteers, offered to buy them breakfast and asked them if they would help me 'fill the seats' if I pursued my vision for an annual Christmas concert—using an orchestra. 

I really didn't know how I was going to pull it off, but I just kept taking one step at a time. 

These days, when I feel overwhelmed, I remind myself of that magical discipline of simply taking the next step. It's worked all these years.

In those days, I didn't even have the money to buy everyone breakfast but I went ahead and sent out the invitations and reserved the room at Momma Spriggs.  I'd find a way to earn the money to buy their breakfast. I really believed in the dream! Well, most days I did. Other days, I was terrified. 

Portraits of White was just an idea at that point and I knew I'd need help to make it happen. I gathered about 10 people who said they had been touched by my music ministry and told them of my vision while we enjoyed breakfast together. When the day came for our breakfast meeting, I had the money. I said I'd put on the show if they'd spread the word about it and they did. 

After breakfast someone else picked up the tab without me knowing it. They used the excuse that they were going to the bathroom but had actually paid the bill. That was just the start of so many blessings I've experienced along the way as I've walked this road of following my dreams.

So here's a few things you'll need to get started (that don't cost you any money):

1) Clarity 

• Get very clear on what your dream is. (I wanted to offer hope during the holidays using an orchestra).

• Write out ALL your thoughts. On paper. If you had the resources you need, what would your dream look like? (I'm still working at producing what I envisioned years ago. It's ok that it's not ALL of what I envisioned—yet. At least I'm on my way and I'm learning a lot as I go.) 

• If you made a bumper sticker of your dream, what would it say? 

• What's the first (or next) step you need to take toward seeing it come to pass?

2) Ask good questions

• Find a few people (or even just one) who are walking a similar path but are further along than you and ask them good questions. Treat them to coffee or lunch at least. Ok, so that costs a little bit of money, but it's well worth it!

The first year I started Portraits of White, I reached out to Kurt Bestor (via Facebook). Kurt is a musician in Utah with a 25 year track record in doing local Christmas shows with an orchestra. My brother-in-law told me about this event because he had attended a few of the shows and said I should reach out to him. So I did. I sent him one question and wouldn't you know, he answered me! 

That proved to be some of the best advice I have received and it didn't cost me any money. I simply asked him what 5 things he wishes he had known when he started his Christmas show.

As I continue building my dream, I ask more questions.

3) Pray - This is the best thing you can do toward your dream and it doesn't cost a dime.

• Start with setting a timer for 5 minutes a day and take that time to pray about the desires of your heart. You'll need to increase that time as you grow. 

• Ask for divine appointments, resources and wisdom. I often pray: "Father, may your Kingdom come, in my life, in your time, in your way, with your resources."

• This morning I prayed for a box truck. Maybe someday I'll share why.  ;-)

"My child, never drift off course from these two goals for your life:

to walk in wisdom 

and to discover discretion. 

Don't ever forget how they empower you."

Proverbs 3:21 TPT

My Favorite Flannel Shirt

Isn't it funny how you remember certain pieces of clothing so clearly? Like in this poem I wrote for my father, the year following his death (over 18 years ago). I normally don't write poems, but for some reason I wrote a few in my journal that year. It was a therapeutic way of processing my grief in that season.

I woke up early this morning thinking about him, Henry Orville Heisey, because today would be his 90th birthday. I pulled out a journal containing some of those post-death poems and decided to share one with you in honor of him. The songwriter in me wants to do a "re-write", but then it wouldn't be in its original form. The day I wrote it I had simply picked up my pen and started writing until I felt like stopping.

My Favorite Shirt

It hangs on the line

my favorite shirt

colors of blue, green and pink

that brought you to life

I wear it often

and snuggle it tight

a small piece of my daddy

I feel like I wear

The blue, cream and gray

of a sweater you wore—

I think now it's Aspen's

I can't be real sure

It made you look healthy

stroked the blue in your eyes

even though your custom

was to wear a tieless shirt underneath

The ugly gray suit

you used to wear

seemed to have been your favorite

though for it, no one else cared

It made you look sickly

the color was drained

but it makes me smile

to remember you in it  

The night of the viewing

I wasn't prepared

to see you look different

in the casket lying there

Everyone else always looks so nice

until it's YOUR daddy

looking cold, dead and still

I think you would have been pretty

if instead you could wear

the pastel colored flannel—

my favorite shirt

But then I couldn't wear it

that soft, warm cover

and I guess it doesn't matter

because I can't even remember

what it was that you did have on

But whether or not

you were dressed in this or that

one thing is for sure

my daddy's in there

for it's not the outside

that I remember best

but what's on the inside

that will never lay to rest

White coat—in those days, he was a chemistry professor.

Black coat—Father of the bride.

My brother, Adriel, taking a picture of my parents. Love that plaid shirt, Daddy!

Ah yes...that navy blue suit (without a tie).

This was after the concert I did to raise funds for my very first CD—Under the Big Blue Sky.
My father gave me the money to have nice invitations made so I could invite my friends.
No one knew I was writing music in those days, so that concert was a big step for me.

I love you Daddy.

Practice Makes You...Prepared For Mistakes.

I've been working on my own piano arrangement of "O Holy Night" since last spring—which simply means I'm inventing my own version of it. There are plenty of great renditions of the song, but I want something that's my own.  

If you're not musical, it's kind of like having your mom bake your favorite birthday cake from scratch. It has a special quality about it. I'm VERY excited (and almost ready) to share my arrangement with the Portraits of White audience. I've added a special ingredient into the mix, but I can't give that away—it's a surprise.

There are so many things about a song that need to be "practiced"; soft, loud, speed, structure, fingering...you get the idea. That's in addition to deciding the overall "feel" of the piece within each section of the song. Like you, I've probably heard this a thousand times: "Practice Makes Perfect." 

I disagree.

In my opinion, you can practice the wrong thing over and over. I DO think practice can help you prepare for imperfection. But I can only speak for myself.

For instance, in spite of all my hours and hours of practice, things can go awry. 

• fingers slip off the keys 
• feet slide off the pedals
• hands get caught under the lip of a piano key
• the mic stand (if I'm singing) swings around and hits me in the mouth (yep—that's really happened)
• my nose begins to run

Anyone have a handkerchief?
Portraits of White 2018

After years of practicing so I could be "perfect" and learning that it just isn't possible, my focus has changed from getting everything "right" to learning how to respond when things go wrong. And THAT has changed so much for me as a performer. 

If you only knew how hard I work to make sure nothing goes wrong... Is there some kind of reward for THAT? Probably not, but I can tell you this, I have had more fun performing in the past decade than any other time in my life because of shifting my focus from perfection to peace, poise...and humor. Just have fun with it!

So last year, when I had a chance to go up on stage with The Piano Guys and play the piano with them at one of their concerts, I actually thought I might be able to do it. Not because I'd be perfect, but because I knew that if I wasn't perfect, we could create a moment out of it.

Here's how it went...

A cellist and I went to see this phenomenal duo. I was a curious to see if a pianist and cellist could keep my attention for two hours. They exceeded my expectations. 

During their concert, they asked if there were any piano players in the audience. They wanted a pianist from the audience to come up on stage and play a song with them and specified that you had to be a jazz pianist who had played in a jazz band. I'm not a jazz pianist and I've never played in a jazz band so I didn't raise my hand. Neither did anyone else. 

I was sitting there with my legs and feet shaking, thinking to myself—MAN...I WANT to go up there and take this opportunity but I'm not a jazz pianist and I've never played in a jazz band, though I can play by ear and improvise. I  feel like jazz is a whole different world and they were making it clear that you needed to have experience in that world.

As if she knew what I was thinking, my cellist friend leaned over and said, "YOU could do that!!" She's been on stage with me since the beginning of Portraits of White and knows I'm not a jazz pianist, but I was honored that she believed in me. That's all I needed...a word of affirmation. I decided that if no one stepped up, I would. 

At the prospect of "making something up on the fly" with The Piano Guys, I now felt like my whole body was an earthquake. But I was determined to take a chance and I quickly decided it would be worth the experience just to play with them. I was willing to make a fool of myself (if that happened) because I've learned that these kinds of moments are usually the ones people remember the most, even if I wish it weren't so.

As I was processing all this (in milliseconds), a young man raised his hand and was called to the stage. He was a jazz pianist for sure and he almost stole the show.

They were having a blast on stage and I was having an epiphany in my seat. I realized that though it does take hours of practice to develop proficiency at anything, (so yes, you MUST put in the practice time), the sooner you begin to practice being okay with imperfection, the sooner you will experience (and radiate) absolute delight, even when things don't go "perfectly".

I left that concert feeling so grateful for all the years of "mishaps" on the stage. They've led me to a place where I was willing to jump up on stage and do something fun, even if I failed. 

The inner work to reach this freedom takes as much practice as the outer work of playing the piano.

Yep....I say practice makes you....prepared for mistakes.

P.S. If you've never heard of The Piano Guys, visit their website and watch their videos or better yet, support live music, buy a ticket and go see them.

Music Music in the Hall, Who's the Finest of Them All?

"You're not using any music so that means you have a gift!", the older gentleman said as he walked by the piano today. We chatted for a few moments and he was on his way. He didn't know that I had a stack of music in my bag. I just happened to be playing without written music when he walked by.

Piano music from my piano lesson days (1978) with my teacher's handwritten notes.

Every week I play the piano in the hospital lobby at PennState Health Milton S. Hershey Medical Center and it's still one of my favorite places to play. I've been doing this 'gig' for years now and my choice of music varies every week—from my own compositions to hymns to classical pieces. Sometimes I follow written music and sometimes I play by ear. I'm grateful that I can do both. 

Though I started playing the piano by ear when I was two or three, in sixth grade my mother found a piano teacher for me and I began taking lessons. It seemed like my first piano teacher enjoyed the entertainment as I played by ear, but my second piano teacher wasn't there for entertainment. She soon discovered that I could play a song if she played it for me and if she didn't play it for me first, I struggled to learn it. Once she realized what was happening, I was forced to learn to read. To this day, I still do better if I've heard a song first, but I am SO glad I can read music and I have that teacher to thank!

This past August, Kirstin Myers and I formed a piano/oboe duo we call "Double Keyed" and we're enjoying the musical camaraderie of playing together. Kirstin has been a part of my annual Portraits of White concert every December, and I was excited when we were able to work together beyond the holiday concert. And oh, by the way, we play from written music. 

I love the novelty of the oboe and it's inspiring to watch people's reactions. This opportunity would not be possible if my piano teacher had not insisted that I learn to read music. 

"Double Keyed" (Frances & Kirstin) @ PennState Health.

Sometimes I feel as if there can be a subtle air of pride among some musicians who "don't read music" or "never had a lesson". Even the audience "oohs and aahs" when someone announces they are self-taught, especially after they've dazzled us with their abilities. 

I admit, it IS a very special thing to be able to sit down without any sheet music and just play. I could sense the "awe" from the gentleman today who commented on the fact that I wasn't using music, but I pondered this all afternoon and decided to encourage people who want to play music not to be afraid or ashamed to get training. I sure wish I had more music education! I'm no Liberace, but there are opportunities that have come my way that would never have happened if I couldn't read music.

It almost feels as absurd as bragging that you are able to create imaginary stories in your head without being able to read. That's creative, but you're missing out on a whole world of possibilities when you can read a book and I believe the same is true when you can read music. You open yourself up to playing great music that others have composed for our enjoyment. Why not learn to play their music?

I suppose the moral of this story is obvious, but just in case it's not, I just want to say that you're not a lesser musician if you have to read something on the written page. You can move people with your music and that's what really matters.

I couldn't do Portraits of White if it weren't for the professional musicians on stage with me. We don't get much rehearsal time and it's crucial that they can play what's on the page with accuracy and expression. They've spent years mastering their instrument and the payoff comes when you hear them play together.

So here's to all the music teachers in the world...thanks for teaching us to read!!

And HERE's a special video with a message from my piano teacher, Donna Houser, who made sure I could read. Now she and her husband bring a group of friends to my December concert every year. I hope I make her proud. 

The Faltering Sparrow

"Why don't you sing 'His Eye is on the Sparrow' for us tonight?"

The man making the request was the past international president of the organization where I was doing the music for a three-day conference. I knew he was probably joking, but in case he was serious, I began to rethink my special song choice for the closing banquet of the event.

Since I only had a few moments to brush up on an old song, I sat down at the piano and played it through, just to double check the key. (I preferred to sound like a pretty songbird and not a squawking chicken or screeching hawk, so choosing the right key is important). I remember one time I started in on "I Surrender All" and it was so high people might have surrendered just to get me to stop singing!!

Ah yes. I had plenty of range to spare and could even modulate from the starting key into a few others just for added effect. I typed out the words on my iPad to be sure I'd remember them but made no chord notations. Surely I'd be fine. I usually forget lyrics more often than notes.

When it came time for the performance, I was soaring along through the colorful chords and even letting the sparrow flutter a bit above the trees when all of a sudden, she faltered...

I couldn't for the life of me remember what key I was in and where I needed to go next.

Some mistakes can be easily covered up and most people don't even know, but every now and then you fail big. Another musician friend of mine always says, "if you're going to mess up, make it big."

There's really nothing else to do in these moments (at least from my experience) but to stop and have fun with it. Let the sparrow fall a bit! After all, the song says his eye is on the sparrow, right? So big deal if she flies into a branch and loses her memory momentarily. At least God is watching me do it. ;-)

"Well folks, I have absolutely no idea what key I'm in or where I'm supposed to be", I said to the crowd — with a grin.

Thinking about what to do next, I said, "I think the sparrow just fell out of the tree".

We all laughed and suddenly, I remembered what key I was in, resumed playing, changed key again and finished up the last chorus in a way that salvaged anything I might have messed up before — at least I hope it came across that way.

"I sing because I'm happy

I sing because I'm free

His eye is on the sparrow

and I know He watches me."

even if I falter...