173/365 - Friendship

"The best mirror is an old friend." ~ George Herbert

She may be celebrating a change-two-numbers-birthday this week, but she is far from old.  She did, however, hold up a mirror for me yesterday so that I could take a really good look at myself.  Even though I didn't particularly like what I saw, she allowed me to look upon that reflection without judgment of her own.  This is the mark of a true friend.

172/365 - Dreaming

I had a dream that my dad took me to visit a spiritual master.  When I first saw him, he looked just like a surfer dude – sun-kissed curly hair, tan, muscular, with a shark-tooth necklace around his neck.  He was sitting on the floor of a hazy, dimly lit room, with red plush cushions scattered everywhere.   It gave me the impression of an ancient Egyptian harem.  For some reason, I knew there was a view of the beach through the heavily curtained glass behind him.  While I looked around the room, I saw that, when I wasn’t looking directly at him, the surfer dude turned into the spitting image of the Dalai Lama.  I looked back at him, and he was the surfer dude again.  I looked away and then back at him, and he kept turning from surfer dude to Dalai Lama to surfer dude – just like one of those reflective cartoon cards that has two different pictures, and the picture you see depends on how you hold the card.

My dad was in the background, but he never actually spoke to the spiritual master.  I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to speak or even why I was there.  And then, in the blink of an eye, the surfer dude version of the spiritual master was right next to me.  He never touched me or spoke, but he pointed to a bracelet I was wearing, which had a broken piece I hadn’t noticed was there.  When I touched that broken part, I was able to pull out several additional links of chain that were hidden in the bracelet.  I looked up in amazement and saw the surfer dude smile.  I looked back to the bracelet and pulled on the next link, and it revealed even more hidden links.  I went to the next piece and pulled that part in anticipation of finding even more links of chain, but then the whole necklace fell apart in my hands.

I looked back to the surfer dude with a question on my lips, but when I met his eyes, I sensed a sudden shift in his intentions.  This man was not just a spiritual master, he was also an intense romantic lover, with designs on pursuing me.  I was taken aback and didn’t understand what was happening.  I looked around the room for my dad, but he was no longer there.  I backed away, confused and conflicted.  I told the spiritual master-turned-lover I had to leave.  He wanted to know when I was coming back.  I somehow knew, in that moment, that something was coming, something that would sweep over the earth and take me away from him forever if I wasn’t with him when it came.  In my mind’s eye, I saw a flash of light and a surge of energy that swept across the whole ocean and over the city on the coast, just like in Armageddon.

Suddenly, I found myself in a cheap hotel room with my dad and my daughter, an 8-year old girl who I knew was mine but didn’t really belong to me.  They already knew about the impending destruction and were frantic to find a safe place where they could be protected from the destructive surge.  I was desperate to go with them, to protect them and run far away from the danger, but I was even more panicked at the thought of not making it back to the beach in time to be reunited with my surfer dude spiritual master Dalai Lama lover.

There was a whirlwind of activity after that, running and screaming and general pandemonium best captured in nightmares and apocalyptic movies.  I lost track of my dad and daughter, and I didn’t know whether they were safe or lost forever.  I found myself on a bicycle on a path back to the beach, riding furiously against the wind and blowing sand, the sky growing darker and more ominous.  Just as I rounded the fence to enter the beach, it started pouring rain and waves crashed mercilessly on the shore beyond.  I threw the bike to the ground and set off at a run, already soaked to the skin by the rain and sea.  I knew I was seconds from being reunited with my spiritual master lover, and my only thought was, “I’m wearing a white T-shirt, I don't want him to see me like this!”

And that’s when I woke up.

171/365 - Comfort Zone

It's really important to get out of your comfort zone every now and then.  Getting out of your comfort zone gives you an opportunity to grow.  I definitely had a growing opportunity this past week when I auditioned for my first musical since my now nine year old was a toddler.

As I prepared for my audition, I decided to seek out some lessons from a voice teacher, a colleague I've known since grad school.  I wanted to make sure I didn't make a fool of myself, i.e. singing by myself in public = out of my comfort zone.  Dancing and acting rarely make me nervous, but even though I know I can sing, my voice often does very odd things completely beyond my control when anxiety and adrenaline are in the mix.  Which is most of the time when I have to sing by myself in public.  Hence the comfort zoning issues.

It's not that I have a bad voice, I just don't usually have the confidence to back it up.  It's remotely possible this might have something to do with the stories my family likes to tell about me "honking" when I tried to sing as a toddler.  I didn't care - I loved to sing anyway.  I have recollections of asking to sing a solo in the children's choir at church and after offering my very first audition, the choir director graciously declined.  I just sang a little louder than anybody else after that.  I also remember listening to Madonna songs on the radio in junior high school, recording them to cassette tape so I could sing them over and over again until I had all the words memorized.  I'm sure my family was grateful I was holed up in my room for most of that time, with my green shag carpet and rainbow striped comforter and matching curtains for sound proofing.

Despite beginning my college music studies with this dismal vocal background, which included the inability to sing an octave - just ask my freshman year aural skills teacher - I somehow managed to finally learn how to sing.  I took several semesters of ear training courses and eventually joined the women's glee club, and what do you know?  I earned two music degrees and could actually hold a tune singing the alma mater at graduation!  A year or so later, I even braved the mic at a Halloween karaoke party, making my debut with the famous 70's love song, "If."  It may have been one of the dorkiest moments of all time, but it was one of my dad's favorites songs, so I knew the tune and could sing every word by heart.

Even with my brave one night karaoke stand, I never did let go of my anxiety when it came to singing in public.  Trust me, I've had plenty of bad audition experiences to prove it.  I've come away from most auditions bawling in embarrassment at the sounds that came out of my mouth, even those times when I remembered the words.  Truthfully, I had pretty much made up my mind not to audition for this show, mainly because I was really only interested in one role, and even though it's got a kick-ass dance part, the character also has a solo song.  I wasn't sure I was up for that.

And then I heard some lyrics listening to another song that changed my mind: "You gotta go after the things you want while you're still in your prime."

Now, I don't really feel like my prime is in danger of slipping away, nor do I need to land a singing role in a show to prove it, but it did feel like an omen to give it a shot.  I've gotten pretty darn confident in myself these last few years...  Maybe, with a little gumption and some proper coaching, I could for once and for all, put to rest the notion that, "I can dance, but I'm not really that much of a singer."  So, I worked my butt off this past week getting my songs ready for the audition.  I even had so much fun singing with my new voice teacher that I may just continue taking lessons.  By the time my audition came around, I knew I would be far from the strongest singer, but I really believed I might be good enough to get the part.

The cast list went up tonight, and....

I didn't get the part.  I'm not even going to be embarrassed to say I thought that I would.  I felt so great about my audition - dancing, acting, and singing - and I came away feeling like I delivered everything I was capable of giving.  Sure, I'm disappointed not to get the role I wanted, but it's really OK.  The elation I felt when I walked out of that theatre after my audition means so much more to me than any part I could have been offered in the show.  Doing the audition was exactly what I was supposed to do.  I got out of my comfort zone.  I grew!  I did something at the prime age of 39 that I've never done before.  I actually had fun singing by myself in public.  And I don't even think I embarrassed myself doing it.  I am a professional musician after all.

Now, where's my karaoke backing track?

170/365 - Song & Dance

I somehow managed to forget how all-consuming it can be to choreograph a show.  When I'm not in rehearsal, songs are constantly running through my head, and the squirrel cage of my brain is chasing around lyrics and melodies looking for inspiration.  I spend spare moments checking out YouTube videos for ideas.  OK, let's be honest here...I don't just look for ideas, in some cases, I lift actual choreography from other productions.  Broadway choreography isn't always the best stuff I find either.  I landed on a video last week from a random high school production in Kansas that's pure gold.

I currently have half of the numbers set on the cast, and I think they're all in pretty good shape.  I teach the remaining four over the course of the next week.  Oy!  I have sketches for all of these songs, but the actual choreography is far from concrete.  Even with quite a few YouTube videos at the ready, I still have plenty of work to do.

And work it is.  Some people think that doing theatre is all about having fun.  Well, yes, there is some amount of joy we get, especially during the performances.  I see the younger cast members enjoying the social aspects of their involvement in ways I appreciated when I was their age.  For me, at this stage in life, it's more about investing in a creative process that brings joy and maybe even a bit of truth to others.  I remember my boss, who works closely with the Musical Theatre program at UM, quoting the chair of the Department: "This field is all about people and culture."  It's about holding a mirror up to our fellow human beings and saying, "This is who we are."  It's not just singing and dancing.  Well, sometimes it is, and I'll be the first to admit that breaking out in song and dance is downright gratuitous in some shows.  But for the most part, it's about telling stories.  That's what we do.  In musicals and art and movies and songs and modern dance and novels and blogs.  We tell important stories about life and love that need to be told and heard and seen over and over again.  It's what makes us human.

And for my very small part in that, I'm grateful there's YouTube.