In the zone. (the pwn zone?)

Ah, yes. The post we have all been waiting for. For those of you not privileged enough to be living in Rochester, the pinnacle of musical development in the united states o' america, you have probably been wondering how my Harold in Italy concert went. The short answer? It was most excellent.

My photos haven't been edited yet by my trusty photojournalist friend, so needless to say, you will all have to wait to see "the dress" of infamy, but i got a lot of compliments on it, and I was just happy that i could wear an entirely normal and supportive bra. Here are some points of interest though:

1) I started to get sick days before the concert, losing both my voice and my energy. The result was that I stopped worrying about things, because I didn't really have the energy to do so.

2) My mom came and visited me Sat-Tuesday, and since my mom isn't a musician, she didn't really understand that I might need time to panic or freak out. Instead, she treated it like a normal vacation, and we did fun things, which helped me to get perspective on everything and chill out.

3) We had an exceptionally mediocre dress rehearsal on Monday, which was great, because the concert went about a gazillion times better. I've generally discovered that mediocre rehearsals beget great concerts because people suddenly snap into focus, whereas really amazing rehearsals give people an unfortunate sense of comfort.

4) I had been nervous in some shape or form for all of the rehearsals. Yes, all of them. First of all, it's scary to get in front of an orchestra and claim ownership of viola-dom, especially with a slightly lame piece like this one. I had been worried the whole time that people would be judging me, comparing me to the violinist from the first half of the program (world's worst vln concerto: vieuxtemps 5) which featured showy filigree, whereas mine didn't feature much of anything. After a week and a half of that fear, I was finally able to let go of it on the day of the concert. It goes to show you that no matter how confident you "should" feel, self judgment is the hardest judge, not others' opinions. I do wish i could've been at the helm of a better piece, or at least a piece that features my skills better, but in the moment of truth, I had to love. I had to love my audience, myself, my viola, and my playing. Even when I missed a shift here or there, I had to gather my energy, my forces, and project them like a ball of white light. When i was finally able to be "as kind to myself as I would be towards others," I was able to project the emotion and intensity that the piece required.

All in all, I was pretty pleased with it. I had more compliments about my dress than I ever thought possible, and despite the stress and brief amount of time I had to work on it, it sounded decent. Yes, I wish I had more than a week and a half after my NEC audition, but...these things are out of my control. It's good to know that I can overcome personal challenges in order to reveal the music in the end.

Laughing with a mouth of blood

Yes, I've been laughing with a mouth of blood. (i.e. experiencing both the extremely good and the kinda bad)
Here's some events of note:
1) NEC audition last Wednesday. It went well, I think? I didn't get to play my ultimate jams (like the Penderecki!) but I did play a very good Ligeti mvmt, and a solid movement of Bach. I don't know that I got into Kim's studio, but we'll see what comes of that.
2) I found out right after my NEC audition that I didn't pass Colburn prescreening (again, WTF) and I didn't get into Prussia Cove. (couldn't have afforded it anyways). But really? Within hours of my audition? It was bad news bears.

3) I've been in full Harold mode, since the concert is on Monday at 8 PM! Send me good vibes/reiki. Today was the first rehearsal that I actually felt good about, especially since I started really practicing this piece last Thursday after my nec audition. I think it's going to be great. Period. I'm getting confident and less nervous. The first couple of rehearsals were really stressful for me- the orchestra didn't sound great, and I felt like everyone was judging me all the time, comparing me to the violinist playing the Vieuxtemps, etc. But in the end, it doesn't matter. I can't let that affect me, because the programming is beyond my control. Not everyone is going to know that I can really beast the viola, but I'll at least be confident in the 10 notes that I do get to play. That's all I can do.
So why was I laughing full of blood? Because I had to come home from an audition, completely deflated, and stand at the helm of an orchestra, having barely had time to practice the piece I was performing. I have to look confident and assured, even though the doubt that runs through me is palpable. My parents were really upset, vicariously, for me, even though it's not their problem or issue. The bottom line is that I don't have a plan for next year. I applied for a bunch of things, and basically got rejected from almost all of them, except NEC. I don't know how to take the rejection-a part of me just wants to scream and quit viola completely. For every leap that I've made in viola progress, I've received a bigger and more catastrophic consequence or rejection. How can I ever know if I'll succeed? For all that I am and that I think I offer, it is all a matter of opinion, of connections, and perhaps I cannot succeed in the way that I hope. Perhaps my dreams are too vast, too immaterial, to be true. I can never tell if I am a pebble in zen garden of pebbles, or if I am a pebble in a collection of treasures. I flip flop between believing in myself and my worth, and doubting my long term happiness. Can I ever love myself? Can anyone ever love me either? And what does the viola have to do with anything? I have no idea.

I know that for now, for three days, I need to be confident in my worth and my gifts, even if the demons that way beneath my surface threaten to capsize the ship. There are so many things worth appreciating in me- if I only can open my eyes enough to see them, they will shine beyond belief, radiating beyond my own perception. Then all of the trees of the field will clap their hands as they look upon me and my joy.

listening to: melon collie and the infinite sadness, grizzly bear, vampire weekend

Bloggage

I have so many things to blog about, but no time! Hopefully, I'll get caught up on revealing my thoughts and mildly amusing life to the internet. For now, just know that I am sleeping, studying baroque dance forms, practicing Berlioz like it's going out of style, and considering cleaning my apartment. Oh, and I'm also going raw for the week as a gentle way to remind my tum-tum about its behavior and how i'm realizing it may need some raw plant food to cuddle itself back into submission and cooperation.

Best quote ever: "it's so f'n insane that straight people get to vote on whether or not gay marriage is allowed,i can't believe it's even debatable... if u r small minded enough to vote against gay marriage,u should be sent to prison,cause god knows what else u r capable of."

-- Of Montreal frontman Kevin Barnes gets heated. Don't even get him started on tort reform! (via @xxofMontrealxx)

listening to: baroque dance hits...the ultimate 80's mix. 1680's.

Meeting Myself Again

I apparently don't always handle stress well. In fact, I'm not entirely sure why I'm that stressed to begin with, because my NEC audition should not be fueling this much anxiety. I know the teachers there, I'm better prepared than I was for my masters' audition, and the teachers like me enough that I should feel moderately comfortable in my audition. However, last week, my insides were in agony- I wasn't hungry, I was having constant stomach cramps, and food wasn't exiting my body much. I was experiencing the very direct negative affects of stress on my body. I had never really seen anything like that happen before- I've obviously been stressed in my life, but I'd never seen my body just shut down and stop working because of it. After a few very difficult days, I was told that I needed to:

"Give yourself a fucking break."

Seriously. I was bummed that my studio class performance hadn't been amazing amazing and I was upset. And I realized that MJ was right- I wasn't giving myself the benefits of positivity or industriousness or anything. I associate hard work and productivity with a certain amount of anxiety and resistance. So that has become my week's work. Rather than allow myself to freak out, I needed to create space in my mind and my heart, so that I could be productive but also be happy. (Fancy that!)

It also made me realize that I expect a lot from my friends in times like this, and that perhaps ask too much of them. When did I become an extrovert when it comes to anxiety? I don't remember. Sometimes, it seems like these intense emotions are such a burden to share with others, especially when that other is just a friend and not family or a significant other. I don't think I used to reveal so much of myself in this way-perhaps isolated living has made me different, dependent on others in new ways. I frankly don't know. The bottom lines is that I have been abusing myself semi-willingly for most of the semester, and I need to get acquainted with myself, in a nicer way. My body yearns for the space of meditation and the timelessness of yoga-why can't I have time to do these things? Because I'm not making time. If I spend 3-6 hours at the viola, I come home between 10 and 11 and I crash. Yoga? Meditation? SLEEP trumps all. But the truth is that I need to make time for myself. I need to allow myself to breathe in the present moment. All of these things that I believe in- mindfulness, inner space, freedom from thoughts-I've been forgetting at the time that I need them the most. Now. I've instead been relying on my friends to keep me sane when I in fact need to do that for myself. I have the tools- I just need to do it.

At the end of the day, I'm responsible for how I feel. My workload should not directly affect my every waking moment and I have the option of changing my emotional landscape. I just need to take charge.

Who I can be, Who I might be, Who I am now

One of the things that has been flitting around in my very cluttered mind is the paradox of mental states that befalls a musician. On one hand, we must constantly criticize ourselves and our work to become better musicians and teachers, and this constant self-analysis is what propels our progress and growth. However, when can we know that we are good enough? It's a parallel with our personal life- are we ever done changing and readjusting as people? I suppose not- if there's ever a time when I'm not learning and changing, then I will have arrived as a stagnant product. At the same time, how rarely we allow ourselves the opportunity to say "I am good enough, in this moment, because it's how I am." Our goal as musicians is theoretically the pursuit of perfection, the unreachable. One of my friends put up this quote, which I find quite relevant:

"The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself." - Anna Quindlen

When should we give up on this perfection that we so earnestly seek? When do we ever accept the way things are? Rarely, at least in my personal experience. I find myself in a constant struggle between success and failure, between confidence and tears, between weakness and the ego. Every day, I'm in a different phase of this cycle- some days I love myself, other days, I want to stay in bed and burn my viola. And yet, I can't give it up. It is the paradox by which I live, each day.

Small Things

I was behind a car today with a bumper sticker that said,

" if you don't trust a woman with a choice, why would you trust her to raise a child?"

That made me chuckle.

I also discovered that the Midol package has a warning that says

"Ask a doctor if you have difficulty urinating due to an enlarged prostate." YES.

The Body Electric

So I opened the infamous Eckhart Tolle book, "The Power of Now." I've read snippets of Tolle, but I concluded a while back that it was watered down Buddhism for the Oprah evangelist crowd. That doesn't mean it's bad, by any means, but just that I could acquire similar information from other sources. Anyway, I was feeling spiritually needy this morning, after a highly mediocre Wednesday (tummy troubles, head ache, highly mediocre studio class performance) so I picked up this book (along with my slew of trashy but fun sookie stackhouse mysteries). I just opened it to a rather pertinent page in the jucispeak realm, so i thought i'd bring it up for discourse.
Transformation through the body
Why have religions condemned or denied the body? It seems that spiritual seekers have always regarded the body as a hindrance or even as sinful.

"On the level of the body, humans are very close to animals. All the basic bodily functions- pleasure, pain, breathing, eating drinking, defecating, sleeping, procreation...we share with animals. Humans woke up in what seemed to be an animal body-and they found this very disturbing...Unconscious denial of their animal nature set in very quickly. The threat that they might be taken over by powerful instinctual drives and revert back to complete unconsciousness was indeed a very real one. Shame and taboos appeared around certain parts of the body and bodily functions, especially sexuality. The light of their consciousness was not yet strong enough to make friends with their animal nature, to allow it to BE and even enjoy that aspect of themselves...They now saw themselves as having a body, rather than just being it.

The fact is that no one has ever become enlightened through denying or fighting the body...Although such an experience can be fascinating and can give you a glimpse of the state of liberation from the material form...you will always have to return to the body, where the essential work of transformation takes place. Transformation is THROUGH the body, not away from it."

Fascinating, isn't it? That so many cultures struggle to drown the existence of a feminine body in cloth, or to pretend that a woman's wobbly bits are not what makes her divine. While the body is impermanent, evanescent, always changing, the body "conceals the splendor of your essential and immortal reality." Whoah! I like that. When you fight against your body, you fight reality. "The body that you see and touch is only a thin illusory veil. Underneath it lies the invisible inner body, the doorway into Being, into Life." Now, I'm not going to advocate the moderately pretentious language Tolle uses sometimes, but on this note, we agree. So much of our culture, our religion, denies the true essence of our bodies: aging, pain, injury. We focus all of bodily love on what makes us better than other people, or worse, rather than valuing it as the manifestation of the divine, whatever that may be. It's like when you see a beautiful old woman with silver hair in a bun- she can't hide her age, and she doesn't want to. Age is beautiful. Or a child with tiny hands and gaps in their mouths from lost teeth. We are creatures still, and we constantly deny it. Truths are hidden in the folds of our skin, in the space between our teeth, in the deep caverns of our ears. Are we here to observe them?