The audition is over.
Whew. Sigh of relief.
Did I have slips?
Yes.
Did I have fun?
Yes.
Did I make music?
Yes.
Am I at peace with whatever happens?
Yes.
Surrendering is a wonderful thing. I truly am feeling full of peace, and I KNOW I can thank many of you for that. I felt your prayers around me, supporting me, filling me with love. And that was a great gift.
And now for the waiting. They said they'll let me know soon..............
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Surrender
I'm not sure I made this clear back in February, but I have the exciting opportunity of re-auditioning for the piano faculty.
That's a positive way of saying that my earlier audition was less than phenomenal, so they asked me to try again. The good thing about this is that despite some obvious flaws, the faculty decided there was something they liked in my playing and they'd like to give me another shot. The bad thing about this is that what they asked for was for me to get rid of my slips and hesitations.
And to this, I said, "Thank you for another opportunity."
And to myself, I said, "I'm supposed to do WHAT?"
Because here's the thing. It's been 15 years since I was performing real repertoire for large-ish audiences. And somehow in the time since then I've forgotten how to perform without slips or hesitations, if I ever really knew how. Nerves have become a real problem.
I wasn't sure where to start or how to fix this rather major issue in my playing.
But this is the beautiful part. People were sent to me with ideas to teach me, to remind me, to encourage me. I took my first lesson in nearly 15 years and left with my head spinning with music. I practiced and practiced and practiced.
And every single time I performed, I failed miserably.
I memorized sections. I memorized left hand alone. I memorized chordal structure. I listened to recordings. I sang the right hand part while playing the left hand part. I practiced improvising in the style of my pieces.
And every single time I performed, my performances were majorly flawed.
So I started to doubt. I decided to give up. And then to start again. And to give up again. And to start again.
It's been a barrel of laughs around here, let me tell you.
Somehow, the joy of the process evaporated. I felt trapped, exhausted, angry, worried, full of fear. I started to doubt my original (and subsequent) impressions to start this journey. Instead of thinking of my performances as an opportunity to communicate truth and beauty with an audience, I saw them as yet another chance to show my weaknesses.
And then I learned (again) about surrendering.
I finally accepted that the outcome of this process may not be what I hoped for. I may not get into the program. At first, it killed me to even consider this. I had so many dreams for what I'd learn, relationships I'd form, music I'd play.
But I believe there is a bigger picture. I believe there is a plan in place. And when I surrendered to God's plan and expressed a willingness to accept His will for me, the fear (mostly) departed.
So I played for piano group yesterday, feeling that sense of surrender.
And I stunk.
Really. It was bad.
So I got a little emotional. It's hard to be bad.
And then instead of letting my disappointment send me to a dark place, I took the advice of my friends to heart and practiced hard. I worked on making my Bach more dance-like, less heavy, and I played around with the line of the main motive.
And instead of giving up and deciding performing wasn't helping much, I asked another friend if I could play for her last night. She and her husband are fantastic musicians, and I've avoided having them hear my program because I didn't want them to hear the flaws and think worse of me. On the drive over, I asked that I'd be able to focus on communicating, on surrendering.
And it happened! I did it! It wasn't perfect at all, but it was musical, and strong, and FINALLY I had a performance that didn't humiliate me!
So today I'll work extra hard. I'll practice the coda of the Chopin forever, and review my starting sections, and work on the fugal variation and the double trills in the Beethoven. And tomorrow morning, I'll play the audition, and I'll surrender my will to the one who knows best.
(Do I want to get in? Oh, yes yes yes. But if there's a different plan, I'll be ready to accept it...AFTER some tears, of course.)
(And if I don't get in, I'm going to make it my quest to figure out how to become more consistent. I need to know for my sake as well as for the sake of my future students.)
(Speaking of future students, I'm blown away by the doors opening for my teaching. My plan is to start sending out studio policies next week, interview prospective students through May, and begin teaching in June. I'm getting very excited to meet the kids I'll be teaching for the next few years. Can't wait!)
That's a positive way of saying that my earlier audition was less than phenomenal, so they asked me to try again. The good thing about this is that despite some obvious flaws, the faculty decided there was something they liked in my playing and they'd like to give me another shot. The bad thing about this is that what they asked for was for me to get rid of my slips and hesitations.
And to this, I said, "Thank you for another opportunity."
And to myself, I said, "I'm supposed to do WHAT?"
Because here's the thing. It's been 15 years since I was performing real repertoire for large-ish audiences. And somehow in the time since then I've forgotten how to perform without slips or hesitations, if I ever really knew how. Nerves have become a real problem.
I wasn't sure where to start or how to fix this rather major issue in my playing.
But this is the beautiful part. People were sent to me with ideas to teach me, to remind me, to encourage me. I took my first lesson in nearly 15 years and left with my head spinning with music. I practiced and practiced and practiced.
And every single time I performed, I failed miserably.
I memorized sections. I memorized left hand alone. I memorized chordal structure. I listened to recordings. I sang the right hand part while playing the left hand part. I practiced improvising in the style of my pieces.
And every single time I performed, my performances were majorly flawed.
So I started to doubt. I decided to give up. And then to start again. And to give up again. And to start again.
It's been a barrel of laughs around here, let me tell you.
Somehow, the joy of the process evaporated. I felt trapped, exhausted, angry, worried, full of fear. I started to doubt my original (and subsequent) impressions to start this journey. Instead of thinking of my performances as an opportunity to communicate truth and beauty with an audience, I saw them as yet another chance to show my weaknesses.
And then I learned (again) about surrendering.
I finally accepted that the outcome of this process may not be what I hoped for. I may not get into the program. At first, it killed me to even consider this. I had so many dreams for what I'd learn, relationships I'd form, music I'd play.
But I believe there is a bigger picture. I believe there is a plan in place. And when I surrendered to God's plan and expressed a willingness to accept His will for me, the fear (mostly) departed.
So I played for piano group yesterday, feeling that sense of surrender.
And I stunk.
Really. It was bad.
So I got a little emotional. It's hard to be bad.
And then instead of letting my disappointment send me to a dark place, I took the advice of my friends to heart and practiced hard. I worked on making my Bach more dance-like, less heavy, and I played around with the line of the main motive.
And instead of giving up and deciding performing wasn't helping much, I asked another friend if I could play for her last night. She and her husband are fantastic musicians, and I've avoided having them hear my program because I didn't want them to hear the flaws and think worse of me. On the drive over, I asked that I'd be able to focus on communicating, on surrendering.
And it happened! I did it! It wasn't perfect at all, but it was musical, and strong, and FINALLY I had a performance that didn't humiliate me!
So today I'll work extra hard. I'll practice the coda of the Chopin forever, and review my starting sections, and work on the fugal variation and the double trills in the Beethoven. And tomorrow morning, I'll play the audition, and I'll surrender my will to the one who knows best.
(Do I want to get in? Oh, yes yes yes. But if there's a different plan, I'll be ready to accept it...AFTER some tears, of course.)
(And if I don't get in, I'm going to make it my quest to figure out how to become more consistent. I need to know for my sake as well as for the sake of my future students.)
(Speaking of future students, I'm blown away by the doors opening for my teaching. My plan is to start sending out studio policies next week, interview prospective students through May, and begin teaching in June. I'm getting very excited to meet the kids I'll be teaching for the next few years. Can't wait!)
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
For the Record...
After putting my kid under hot lights and grilling him for several hours, I have learned the following: He feels his good name is being smeared. He did NOT talk to anyone. He DID, however, throw a piece of wadded up paper at the boy who threw them at his head first, but this was 20 minutes (or so, you know how 14-year-old-boy-time works) before the teacher got mad.
I told him he'd darned well better become the best behaved 9th grade Foods student this woman has ever seen in her 11 years in the Davis County School District or he'll end up with a triple-U in conduct like some kids did last year. And I won't be laughing at that.
But I WAS laughing last night. David kept telling Josh not to "distrub" him, and I was rolling. I'm afraid we all laughed a little too hard and I'm feeling a wee bit guilty. After all, this poor woman has to teach junior high kids all day every day, and that's enough to make me want to nominate her for a major award. And I told Josh that he has a responsibility to learn to show respect for each and every one of his teachers, even when they seem unreasonable. It's a necessary life lesson, and one I'd rather have him learn in Foods class than when dealing with a nasty boss.
I told him he'd darned well better become the best behaved 9th grade Foods student this woman has ever seen in her 11 years in the Davis County School District or he'll end up with a triple-U in conduct like some kids did last year. And I won't be laughing at that.
But I WAS laughing last night. David kept telling Josh not to "distrub" him, and I was rolling. I'm afraid we all laughed a little too hard and I'm feeling a wee bit guilty. After all, this poor woman has to teach junior high kids all day every day, and that's enough to make me want to nominate her for a major award. And I told Josh that he has a responsibility to learn to show respect for each and every one of his teachers, even when they seem unreasonable. It's a necessary life lesson, and one I'd rather have him learn in Foods class than when dealing with a nasty boss.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Apparently We Need to Talk
Got another email today from the Foods Teacher:
So yes, we need to have a talk. The kid is apparently Trouble with a Capital T...1950's style.
But can I just say, "Hello? Teacher for 11 years? Spelling? Punctuation? Grammar? Proofread your dang emails!!!" How many errors can YOU find? I found 11, not even counting that whopper of a last sentence.
Your student was involved in multiple distrubances during the Rice demonstration I tried to give today. Because of this they are not going to cook tomorrow along with the rest of the class. This is not fair to the other students but I cannot teach in this kind of atmosphere. Would you please talk to them about respectful behavior and the importance of taking turns in group work.
Also someone combined two of my examples of rice typ es that I passe around. This has not happened in my 11 years in Davis school district. If your student know who did this I would be happy to know. Would you talk to them about good citizenship does not let other people destroy property.
So yes, we need to have a talk. The kid is apparently Trouble with a Capital T...1950's style.
But can I just say, "Hello? Teacher for 11 years? Spelling? Punctuation? Grammar? Proofread your dang emails!!!" How many errors can YOU find? I found 11, not even counting that whopper of a last sentence.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Spring Break
"This has been the WORST SPRING BREAK EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Is she right?
I don't know. Probably not the worst EVER, but it sure hasn't been a dream. David was super sick. There was all this SNOW (this picture is at the beginning of the three days of snow. There are eight inches out there now.) And of course, most of her friends have been in Hawaii, or NYC, or So Cal. Compared to parasailing in Hawaii? Yup. Worst spring break ever.
But we DID go to the library! And she got to go to the old school's Arts Night! And Josh got to have a party! And we shopped for Ben & Kate's birthdays! And...that's about it.
Hmmm...
My poor kids.
(On another note, today is Benno's fourth birthday and I'm feeling my normal angst about letting him get older. Drat. I can't stop time.)
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