Eternal Lessons

Today I was practicing a piece for an upcoming recital, and I decided to finally attack “that one little lick.” You know that lick, right? The one that just never goes exactly as you want it to go.

Before I share with you the [not so great] ways that I practiced that lick, let me tell you a little bit about the way I approach new material. When I learn a piece, I tend to have a process that I follow as I prepare for a performance. It’s kind of like peeling an onion; there are lots of layers!

My first broad brushstroke tends to cover learning notes and rhythms. I try to do this as quickly, correctly, and efficiently as possible. If I make a mistake, I stop and fix it before I move on. If I’m not sure if I played the right note, I check it against a piano. There is a lot of singing involved so that I internalize the new material.

Second, I find large phrase direction and shape. There’s more than one right answer in this step, so I tend to try out several ways to turn a phrase before I settle on my favorite. I make a lot of marks in my music so that I can pick up where I left off when I come back to the piece the next day. This step also involves determining where to breathe…and writing it in!

Third, I find smaller nuances that I want to make within each phrase. It’s around this time that I find little technical inconsistencies that I may have missed when I peeled off that first thick layer. And that’s where I found “the lick.”

[See my full list of steps for learning a new piece at the bottom of this article.]

You see, this particular lick is really difficult because the figure goes between eighth notes and triplets, and it has four notes in four different positions, but the positions are really close to each other, and in fact you have to play two different 3rd positions to adjust for tuning and, and, and…

Well, at least that’s what I told myself for the past week or so. That’s probably why I haven’t gotten very far with this lick.

So today, it was time to take care of “that one little lick.” (Don’t get me wrong, I have plenty of other “little licks” throughout my recital program. But today was the day for that one.) What did I do first? The wrong thing: I didn’t make a plan. I just made a goal. My goal was to fix it. I had no idea how I was going to do it because it’s really difficulty lick because the figures goes between eighth notes and triplets, and it has four notes in four different positions, and….

All I had in my mind were the thoughts “this is hard, it doesn’t sound good, I need to fix it.” Somehow, I still fixed it, but only afterwards did I realize that I went about it backwards. My mental approach should have been more planned and more positive! I probably could have saved twenty minutes and some chop fatigue if I had taken a second to think about my approach.

That being said, this is what happened: I played it over and over. The same way. At least forty or fifty times. If I hadn’t made it clear yet, this is what NOT to do!

What was I doing? I was waiting for one of those repetitions to give me the answer. I was waiting for it to sound good so that I could capture that approach and sound, and then replicate that.  I was using the lowest level of problem solving: trial and error. Unfortunately, I was also practicing it incorrectly…over and over.

Nothing changed until something in my brain said “play it longer.” Aha! A style change! Imagine that!

I played it longer, and it definitely helped. Then something in my brain said “direct the phrase to the last note.” Aha! A musical change! Imagine that!

I played it more musically and it was instantly 100% better. You might even say it was fixed. Looking back, I realize that it only took me one creative thought and one repetition carrying out that thought to “fix” my technical problem. I wondered why I had just mindlessly practiced the lick fifty times. Why didn’t I just stop to think for a few seconds?!

And then the echoes of one of my teachers, Carl Lenthe, rattled in my mind. A musical solution to a technical problem. Of course. It makes so much sense. Why didn’t I listen to him more often? No, why didn’t I just do what he said more often?

I practiced the piece for about 45 minutes today, but I took away much more than that. I learned a very valuable lesson, one that I have learned before and forgotten, many times: making music and learning how to play your instrument is not a technical pursuit. Rather, it is a mental pursuit. You have to learn how to learn. You must learn strategies that guide yourself to improve efficiently and mindfully. That is the answer! Yes, we all have technical shortcomings that we would like to improve, but the first step is not finding out which exercise to play. The first step is knowing yourself, making a plan, and teaching yourself how to learn.

If you are an artist and you are trying to really improve, I strongly encourage you to take this approach. Really take a look inside yourself and figure out how you learn. Teach yourself to learn well. Listen to your teacher, because they are giving you the answers all the time. You can only benefit from them if you are ready to learn.

The other lesson that I learned (again) is to just try something different. If a lick isn’t working, you’ve got to attack it from all angles. If you’re not sure what else to do with it musically, start with technical approach variations. Play it slower, faster, lower, higher, louder, softer, change the articulation--anything that will pull you away from playing it the same, boring way that you always play it. There is virtually no benefit of playing something over and over again unless you’re doing it well every time (correct rhythm, notes, intentional musical direction, etc.).

I hope my practicing woes and triumphs will help you bring a new angle to your practice, even if it is to simply incorporate more intentional thought into your precious practice time. We are all busy people, and we owe it to ourselves to get the most out of our practice by planning, learning from our mistakes, and making conscious musical choices every time we pick up the instrument.

How to Learn a New Piece

Sarah

The Only Resolution You Need to Make in 2015

Happy New Year!

Hopefully you had an enjoyable ringing in of the new year with friends and/or family. Maybe you went to dinner or maybe out for drinks, maybe you played games with your family, or watched the ball drop in Times Square. Maybe you just watched a movie and went to bed before midnight. It was your choice and I am sure you chose wisely. Now we’re on to one of the least successful times of the year. Yup, New Year’s resolution season. We all decide to do something that we’re going to do for the next two weeks and if it doesn’t stick, oh well. There’s always next year.

Building New Habits

I was having a conversation the other day with some friends about building new habits. Though the conversation was completely unrelated to music, I found myself (as I often do) applying some of our conversation to music. We talked about what was required to build a new habit and how long it takes. Different numbers were thrown around, so I decided to do some research. For many years, exercise gurus, dieticians, doctors, and educators sold the notion that you could create a new habit in 21 days. There have been plenty of articles about that, so I’ll just say that the origin of this magic number actually claims it takes a minimum of 21 days depending on the person and the habit. Here's some interesting and much more recent information on developing habits which claims it takes anywhere from 18-254 days to change a behavior.

So, let’s apply this to breathing while playing a wind instrument. Back in 6th grade, my band director told me to take a big breath and blow. Not realizing that I was basically tensing up my entire body on both the inhalation and the exhalation, that’s how I played for three years until I started taking private lessons, then went to college, etc. The point is that I breathe differently now than I did as a sixth grader and it was not a magical 21-day fix.

I use the words “free, easy, relaxed” when I describe the breath I want to take and I am fairly successful breathing that way in my practice. However, I struggle some days when my body or my mind is tired and I find myself taking less than ideal breaths. So, I must always choose to breathe the way that I know will help me sound best, no matter how difficult or easy the decision is that day.

Test Your Product

So far, I’ve only been talking about my practice sessions, so now let’s take into account the times that I am in various settings with different levels of stress or pressure. Should I breathe differently? No. Do I? Sometimes. I know that I did for a long time and there are still situations where I have to remind myself to be free, easy, and relaxed. When I was in orchestra or brass band or playing as a soloist, I’d be more nervous, and the first thing to go was my breathing. When your breathing goes, you use more muscle. When you actively use too much muscle, fatigue sets in much faster. When fatigue sets in, your brain starts to focus on how tired you are instead of on the music. I needed more opportunities to be in a pressure situation and be able to teach myself how to breathe, think, and relax in that setting. Thank you, Mirari! I perform way more now than I have in the past few years and I plan on keeping it that way.

There is a reason we stress to our students that everyone has to perform for people. You aren’t just getting another performance under your belt, you are teaching yourself how to behave when you are performing. It gives you a chance to get worked up but still breathe and play in the same way you do in your practice. How many times have you heard someone sound amazing in their warm-up and then like a completely different player when they perform? It’s because they are not testing their product. Can you imagine if your job was to build a boat for someone and you never tested to see if it would float before you gave it to the customer? You’ve got to see if it can withstand heat, cold, crashing waves, etc. Can you say “lawsuit”?  

I was fortunate to have Krista Jobson (flute, UT-PA) as a friend while earning my doctorate in Kansas City. I remember having a dress rehearsal for my lecture recital and Krista came to watch because she couldn’t make it to the actual recital (what a kind choice she made to support me, right?). My lecture recital was on unaccompanied trumpet pieces and I was playing some of the most technically challenging music I had ever attempted in my life. Having just one person whose opinion I valued made me ridiculously nervous. I had a pretty big breakdown on the first movement of Henze’s Sonatina. I asked if I could just have some time to work a few things out and she said, “sure, should I leave?” I said, “no, I need to do this while you are here.” She patiently waited as I refocused my brain and got back to playing the trumpet the way that I can. I played again and it was exponentially better than the first time, though it made me wish I had done that months prior. Live and learn. And I have not forgotten that lesson. I play for people as much as I possibly can.

Choose to Choose

One of the important words in the aforementioned study is the word “daily.” Someone in the study decided they wanted to drink a bottle of water with lunch. That means every time they ate lunch they drank a bottle of water. There was no lunch without a bottle of water. Do we really breathe the way we need to every single time we play our instrument? If we don’t, how can we expect that it will ever be a default behavior? That is not to say that if we forget once or twice, we’re screwed, and we’ll never be able to do it, but if we spend more time breathing the way we did in high school than the way we know we should, how will we ever get there?

My thought is that we won’t ever get there. We have a choice to make every time we pick up our instruments. We are choosing to breathe well, choosing to create the best possible tone, and choosing exactly how we want every note and phrase to sound. If we focus on consistently choosing what is best, a very strange thing happens after a while (yes, my ambiguity is intentional)--you get to the point where you can’t play something incorrectly unless you really try.

This new year, I have a new outlook. I believe that we would be more successful affecting change by focusing on the process of creating the habit than on the end result. You know, “oh, I changed my life in three weeks! I am a new person.” That rarely works. Instead, commit yourself everyday to making a choice, and then choosing what is best for you will become your habit.

Cheers and here’s to good choices in 2015!

Matt

Beyond the Notes and Rhythms

I remember way back in my early days of the tuba, when I had to sit on two phone books to simply reach the mouthpiece.  I had recently joined a youth orchestra and was completely out of my element, in awe of the other young musicians around me.  They could play such fast notes and with such confidence.  At that point those fast notes seemed to equal greater skill, and man did I wish I could do the same.  As the next few years passed I grew….physically I could now reach the mouthpiece with one phonebook.  And now those fast notes didn’t seem to hold the same intrigue or interest.  I wanted more, but I didn’t know what it was.  In high school my teachers and mentors encouraged me to listen.   Listen to as many great musicians as possible.  I listened to tuba players of course, but also other brass players, string players, and most importantly, vocalists.  Singers like Luciano Pavarotti, Bobby McFerrin, Renee Fleming, and later groups like the Wailin’ Jennys, were and are captivating.  But why?  It wasn’t fast notes or stunning technique.  It was something else, something called musicality. 

I desperately wanted my own playing to have this mysterious element, I wanted to captivate people in the same way these amazing musicians were captivating me.  Initially I wondered if it was possible on the tuba, an instrument not generally recognized as emotionally moving, but after hearing other tubists like Pat Sheridan and Roland Szentpali (check them out if you haven’t) I knew this was more than possible.

It wasn’t until my graduate school, working with and listening to outstanding teachers and fellow students that I really began to discover and understand how to achieve this seemingly transcendent goal.  So how does one captivate their listener?  What does it mean to play musically?  And how do we as musicians go about that? 

Musicality Defined

Musicality is communication.  Communicating to the listener, whether it is other performers, a paying audience, or a family member listening to your practice session, what you are saying through your instrument.  This idea is analogous to language.  We take the fundamental basics of words, and string them together into sentences to express something we are thinking or feeling.  In music we take the fundamentals of musical language and express something we are thinking or feeling through our instruments.  Musicality is the connection; how we communicate our music to the listener.

Connecting & Communicating

Intent.  Okay, so we have to communicate and connect with audiences.  How?  To start, consider what the music means to the composer, and then more importantly, to you.  There are two layers, the composers’ intention and connecting those intentions to what’s meaningful to you.  What is the background of the composer?  Of the particular piece?  It’s important to have knowledge of different styles and understand where the composer is coming from, but then be brave enough to put it forth in an exaggerated manner that means something to you.

Imagine.  Finding what a piece means to you can require imagination.  When reading a book, we imagine and give life to the words on the page.  Similarly with music, take what’s on the page as a starting point and give life to the notes and rhythms.  Like a teacher reading a story to a kindergarten class, be the exaggerated story teller of the printed music.  In addition, use your intuition.  How do you intuitively or automatically want to respond to the music?  Compare this to the score and intertwine your intuition and the composers’ ideas together.

Paint a picture, tell a story.  Connect the music with something extra-musical, whether it’s descriptive words, moods, colors, emotions, a painting, or a story.  Better yet, try drawing/painting an actual picture of what the music looks like to you.  Or write a story to go along with the music, create characters, a plot, and action.  Reflecting the music in a personal painting or story will make the music come to life for you, and as a result your audience.

Sing.  All lines must sing on the instrument, so first sing them with your voice.  And really sing!  Notice how you approach phrases, where you breathe, how you emphasize certain moments.  And as you sing, conduct and move.  Feel the musical line, dance to the music and involve your entire body.  Internalize the music in your body and voice and then project that through your instrument. 

Listen.  Listen to other artists you admire, and really listen!  Include those that play your instrument as well as anyone else you admire.  Don’t limit your listening, explore a variety of genres.  Figure out what captivates you about the artist and use that as a platform or starting point.

Always be musical!

No matter what you’re playing, whether a Bach Cello Suite or a jazz ballade, or whom you’re playing with, from an unaccompanied solo to a chamber group, musicality should always be part of our musical message.  From the first reading of a new piece, keep in mind the story you’re telling. 

Get in the habit of having every note you play be a musical one.  Pay attention to the details on the page, see and respond to what the composer wants, exaggerate, give direction to the musical line, and tell a story.  Musicality allows us as performers to communicate and connect with the listener and other musicians.  And for me, this connection is the primary reason I became an artist in the first place.

-Stephanie

The Athletic Brass Player

To play a brass instrument well involves learning a variety of skills.  Of course, one must be an artist, as well as an engineer (how do I make my instrument function most efficiently?) and entrepreneur (how do I develop a market for my music?).  But in addition, we also need to be athletes.  Brass instruments tend to create all kinds of physical challenges, from the necessity to move enormous amounts of air to the fine motor control in the face and fingers.  As such, there are some lessons that we can learn from how athletes approach some of the same challenges.  Below are three of the ones that I have found most valuable in my career:

Product Over Process

You're standing at the free throw line holding a basketball.  Are you looking at your hands or the basket?  You're waiting to bat at home plate.  Are you watching the ball or your bat?  In the bowling alley, are you looking at the ball or the pins?  All of these situations have one thing in common: your focus and concentration is on the end result, not the process by which you are going to achieve it.  

So as a musician, what is your product?  How about your sound and your musicianship?  These should always be the ultimate goal of any performance.  Nobody has ever come up to me at the end of a concert and said "I loved how your triplets were perfectly in time" or "My favorite part was that your low D's weren't sharp."  At the end of the day, what matters most is how you sounded and the musical/emotional message you conveyed to your audience.  

In order to do this, of course, you need to understand what a great sound and great artistry are.  The best way to do this is by spending regular time listening to world class musicians.  I always ask students who their favorite players are--if they don't have any, it's clear to me that they don't spend nearly enough time listening (it's okay to have many favorite players and they can change all the time!)  Once you have a great idea of what you want to sound like, then start recording yourself and listening back.  Do you sound like your goal?  If not, focus your practice on what needs to happen to get there.

Obviously, I'm not suggesting here that you ignore the mechanics of how to play the instrument.  Imagine a quarterback working on his passing.  He might make subtle changes to hand position, throwing motion, or footwork.  But then, (and this is the crucial step), he practices those new techniques hundreds or thousands of times so that they become completely automatic, controlled by the unconscious part of the brain.  That way, when he actually gets in the game, his attention can be solely on his targeted receiver downfield.  We can do the same things as brass players.  Nobody should be thinking during a performance: "Keep your finger out of the ring!"

Achieving Balance in Practice

Those people that have been on a well-coached sports team already understand this process.  How many times has a soccer coach said, "Today we'll work only on penalty kicks.  Tomorrow, we'll do just headers."  Good coaches intuitively understand that to develop complete players, you have to practice all facets of the game, repeatedly and continuously.  In fact, many elite teams use a practice model where players engage in a short drill working on one particular skill set, then run to the next drill for 10-15 minutes, then on to the next one.  By keeping them constantly moving and on their toes, the coaches avoid mental fatigue and much more closely simulate the actual game situations that their players are working towards.

I think most brass players understand this concept of balance.  But how many times have you found yourself playing the same Arban exercise over and over (and over and over)?  How many times have you worked for an hour on the same 4 lines of an etude only to realize that you used up your entire time and never got to the rest of your practicing?  I highly recommend that every brass player come up with a great fundamental routine that addresses all of the skills that you need in order to be successful (air, sound, technique, articulation, flexibilty, sight-reading, etc.)  This should be the very first thing that you practice every day--and becomes even more important as you prepare for a recital, audition, or major performance. I also thing it's critical to recognize when you are mentally or physically tired and learn to take a break, or move on to something else.  Continuing to practice when you are working against yourself won't really help you get better!

I've found a couple other great tricks for helping to organize and find balance in your practicing.  First, keep a practice journal.  Write down what you worked on, for how long, and possibly even what you achieved or learned from that practice session.  By going back and looking at your journals for the past week or month, you can learn where you being efficient vs. where you might be wasting a lot of time and what you are working on a lot vs. what you are ignoring.  A second trick that seems to work will is to set a timer.  This works well both for people like me who often had give myself time goals in order to get all of my practicing done ("20 more minutes on my Charlier etude and I then I can watch one episode of Colbert") or for people that obsessively practice they same thing until it's perfect (once the timer goes off, you must move on).  

Fundamentals Over Repertoire

This seems like a simple concept, but it's critical to brass players in every stage of their career.  Think about your favorite team--how much time in their practice do they spend working on skills and drill compared to the amount of time playing scrimmages and actual game simulations.  At most, it's probably 50-50.  At other times in the season, practices are devoted almost exclusively to fundamentals.  

The same goes for brass playing.  Which do you think will lead to developing better multiple tonguing more quickly: working out of the Arban book on a variety of exercises designed to teach you to multiple tongue repeated notes, scalar passages, and arpeggios in a variety of keys, or just compulsively practicing Carnival of Venice over and over again?  Learn the fundamentals first, and then apply them to repertoire.  

The trap that many people fall into is, "But I have to learn my band music, so I spend most of my practice time working on that!"  If you spend more of your time learning to be great on your instrument, the director/conductor will thank you later because the next piece will be so much easier to learn.  Don't forget about the importance of sight-reading every day!  Think about it: if you practice your fundamentals until you are a great player and learn how to sight-read anything in front of you, what piece of repertoire will present a serious challenge?  

Besides the actual content, there is very little difference in the preparation and process of great athletes from great musicians.  We have as much to learn from Peyton Manning and John Wooden as we do from Joe Alessi and Maurice Andre!  Now go practice!

5 Things Musicians Should Do Everyday (Besides Practice)

Just like brushing your teeth, washing your clothes, and putting gas in your car are important daily living tasks, there are other types of daily chores that are just as important to your success as a musician.  I’ve put together a list of 5 things that I think are the keys to a happy, meaningful, and intentional life in music.

Trust –Being able to trust in those around you, especially your fellow musicians, is essential.  However, the most important trust relationship we all have is with ourselves. Trust yourself – do what you say you are going to do.  If you are going to get up at 6am to go practice, plan for it.  Because, let’s face it, there are a ton of great reasons why getting up that early isn’t a good idea. For example, we all need sleep! It’s essential for our physical health as well as our mental health (and a myriad of other good reasons, like a comfy bed, it’s raining/snowing out, your partner looks so freaking comfortable! etc.).  Therefore, plan your day knowing you are going to get up early the next morning and go to bed at an hour where getting up at 6am is doable.  Set your alarm, and get up when it goes off knowing the hardest part is getting your feet on the floor!  Once you’re up, you have now created trust by proving that you will do what you’re going to do.  If you can’t trust you to follow through, why would anyone else?  

Give – As musicians, this is the goal.  We are storytellers.  We have to give a piece of ourselves, our life, our experience, to our audience (whether that is a student, colleague, an interview panel, and audition panel, etc.).  But, from where does all the giving material come?  It comes from sharing the human experience.  Give of yourself to your audience, colleagues, students, friends, etc. Many times the giving we do seems fruitless or futile.  You offer something to an audience and it seems to go unnoticed, is misinterpreted, ignored, or even  not liked.  It can feel empty and a like a worthless use of precious energy.  I’ve certainly felt this way before.  But, the fun and amazing thing about giving is that it’s completely exclusive of someone else’s efforts or response.  Giving is a gift we can share with others but also something we can give to ourselves.  Don’t be selfish – share your music.  Your performance depends on it.  So does the universeJ.

Listen – How many times has a teacher, mentor, friend, musician said something and I did not really LISTEN to what they were saying.  This happens maybe because of ego, maybe because we’re all so busy, we’re tired, focusing on other things, interpreting the information through our past experience, etc. How many times do we focus on our emotional response to the delivery rather than really digging in to the content?  Sometimes the best and most meaningful messages come from an unlikely source or delivery.   I recently read this quote by Leonard Bernstein, “The conductor must not only make his orchestra play - he must make them want to play. He must exalt them, lift them, start their adrenaline pouring, either by pleading or demanding or raging. But however he does it, he must make them love the music as he loves it. It is not so much a matter of imposing his will on them like a dictator; it is more like projecting his feelings around so that they reach the last man in the 2nd violin section. And when this happens - when everybody shares his feelings, when 100 men are sharing the same feelings, exactly, simultaneously, responding as one to each rise and fall of the music, to each point of arrival and departure, to when all that is happening then there is a human identity of feeling that has no equal elsewhere." When we focus on the content of a message rather than letting ego/feelings get in the way, we can learn a lot about ourselves and move forward without baggage or regret. 

I had an experience that changed my life in college.  I got 2^nd chair in the Wind Ensemble and choose to be very upset over these results.  I went and spoke to the director of the group who quietly, and calmly let me say my piece.  When I finished, he asked, “are you done?” and proceeded to let me know it didn’t matter what the results were, because it was now my job to make the first horn sound great and feel comfortable to play their best.  It was my job, to be the best dang 2^nd horn player not only for me but also for my section and the ensemble at large.  He certainly wasn’t yelling at me, but he wasn’t very happy about my attitude.  I walked out of that room with my tail between my legs, but soon came to realize that night what a gift he gave me by listening and truly understanding what I needed to hear in order to grow and evolve.  I am forever grateful for those uncomfortable few moments and for the fact I choose to put my ego aside and really listen to what he had to say.    

Opening our ears to the world around us we may just find the answer by listening a little harder to the content.

Let go – It can be letting go of information that no longer serves you, letting go of relationships that no longer allow you to grow, moving on from a job because you stop moving forward, it could be letting go of old habits, letting go of control, lots of things.  All of these are important.  One of the most important skills we can possess as a musician in the ability to self-analyze.  Figure out where you are, where you want to be, and how to get there.  Often times, this requires letting go of old habits, ways of thought, or even control.  It’s always important to evolve and part of that growth is figuring out what isn’t working for you or what is now unnecessary to hold on to, and letting it all go.

It is easy to hold on to things, people, situations, schools of thought, habits, etc., because that’s just how we’ve always functioned, known.  Letting go requires us to regularly take inventory of our lives and see keep what’s working and discard the things that aren’t in order to make more room for the solutions.  The scariest part can be not knowing the outcome of your letting go efforts.  But, what if letting go is a part of the solution and allows you to fulfill goals and reach dreams?  You’ll never know, unless you take the first step…..and let go.

Love/Celebrate – Let’s face it.  Being a musician can be hard.  There are a lot of things about the business that seem unfair, difficult, costly, emotionally taxing, etc. I’ve had my share of blood, sweat, and tears shed to reach where I am, too.  When I was in my second year out of my DM program, I had been applying for every job that became available.  I had been working several jobs, barely making ends meet for just over a year at this point.  I was sitting in my teacher’s office finishing up some projects we had been working on, and another one of my favorite professors came in the room, sat down and said, you’ve looked like crap for a long time now, what's up?  It’s always nice to be told the stress you’re feeling is all over your face (there’s that content thing againJ).  Either way, I told him I was thinking about quitting music.  He replied, “what do you plan on doing instead?”  “I don’t know, something other than this,” I said.  And he said the words that really changed my thinking and course.  “You don’t get to quite because you’re frustrated, you quit because there is something else you’d rather do.”  He was totally right.  In that moment, I finally was able to see and feel the fire that I had felt for music my whole life, even though it was dim.  Never the less, the fire was still there.  I had buried it with, stress, frustration, exhaustion, worry.  I buried it with all the things that don’t really have anything to do with WHY I wanted to be a musician.  Ever since I can remember, I knew music was going to be my career.  From the moment I picked up a horn, I knew this was going to be my life’s work.  So why had I allowed all of these other factors drown out the light inside?  Because I forgot the WHY.  I love music.  I love sound, I love working with my Mirari family, I love how music can change someone’s life (especially my own), I love how listening to Bruckner 8 the 4^th movement, no matter how tired or busy I am, will ALWAYS make me stop what I’m doing and dance around the room, playing the timpani part, conducting, and smile from the inside out.  These are the things I forgot. 

Everyday, I make sure to celebrate the fact that I am doing what I love.  I look at my name plate outside my office door often, and think how proud and happy I am that my love for music, no matter how long it took and arduous it was/can be, got me here.  Music never lets you down.  It’s ever present and always available to refill my soul with love.  That love is worth celebrating.

So, go out there and work for the life you deserve.  Be AWESOME today!