Currently Listening Bringing Down the Horse By The Wallflowers see related

What a difference a state makes.

Thus far, I have ventured on 2 graduate school visitation excursions and I am still stupefied by the vast differences in my experiences.  Both schools were large, both are known for their excellent music programs, but one suited me so much better than the other.

I will omit the exact identity of the first school I visited for the sake of common courtesy.  In short, I spent a lot of money to travel a great distance and they didn’t seem to even care that I was there.  (Not that I'm anything special.)  Since I’m dealing with graduate schools, I certainly don’t expect to be coddled, but they were aware of my visit and had been aware for several months.  They had nothing planned for me to observe and very few suggestions.  I had to work so hard just to find things to do – classes and rehearsals to audit, etc.  The students were certainly not rude, but they weren’t easily approachable either.  I’m an outgoing person, so that says a lot!  The saxophone and oboe instructors were kind enough to teach me a lesson so I might get a feel for their teaching styles.  Both were nice, but not exactly what I was looking for.  I also liked the oboe instructor significantly more than the saxophone instructor, which is a problem.  My experience wasn’t necessarily horrible, but it was certainly disappointing.  On a less important note:  I didn’t like the city this school was located in as much as I thought I would.  It was rather…ghetto, actually.  Lots of areas appeared to be unsafe and it looked as though it might be tough to find a decent / safe / not entirely disgusting apartment building to live in.  Of course, I realize that doesn’t make a difference in terms of the quality of education, but it helps if you enjoy your environment.

This past Wednesday, I hopped in my car and drove 8 hours to visit the University of Iowa.  I arrived on campus early Thursday morning and met with Dr. Kenneth Tse, the professor of saxophone.  He thoughtfully and courteously answered all of the questions I wanted to ask and was more than willing to allow me to observe him while teaching one of his long-time students.  His ideas were fresh and musical, and his delivery of criticisms was firm, but polite and unintimidating.  And, of course, his playing is heavenly.  I liked him from the moment I shook his hand.  It’s easy to see why he is so highly respected.

The oboe instructor, Professor Mark Weiger, is probably one of the funniest people I have ever met.  He has a quick wit about him and his approach to teaching is remarkable.  He constantly asks questions of his students and makes them analyze everything without making it seem like a chore.  He is an unbelievable musician and the manner in which he conveys his ideas to his students is both entertaining and original.  His students all sound spectacular.

I spent a decent amount of time in the reed-making room chatting with oboists and bassoonists.  They were all awesome.  It was a little double-reed sanctuary and they were completely willing to involve me, for which I am grateful.

My audition was decent.  I suppose I played at about 90%.  My fingers got a little fumbly since I was so wretchedly nervous, but I survived.  Dr. Tse didn’t play the "mysterious card" after I finished.  We began discussing immediately how he would like to work with me on my altissimo and the financial aspect of attending the U of I.  I didn’t have to walk away wondering what he thought; he made it clear.  I walked out of his office feeling better than I have in ages.  I found a school I love and a school I should be able to afford.  It sounds pretty simple, but it means the world to me.

Shoo Fly

I envy certain individuals because they seem to lead rather charmed lives.  Good fortune has their phone number on speed dial.  This has never been the case for me.  I certainly don’t sit around feeling sorry for myself, but I do wish luck would ring my doorbell every now and again.  Why am I wishing this today with greater fervor than I would any other day?  Because…

I performed in the first university symphony orchestra concert of the semester on this very evening and something rather unfortunate and unusual occurred.  (*Note:  People compliment me on my perfume at least once a week.  I have worn the very same fragrance since my freshman year of college.  Unfortunately, this fragrance attracts insects.  I don’t know why; it just does.)  I was chatting with the flute players just before our concert was to begin.  Out of nowhere, a gross, huge, ugly fly flew down my shirt and began crawling around.  I had a few seconds to subtly attempt to lure the creature out of my shirt to kill, kill, kill him, but the time was too little.  The concertmaster walked out onto the stage and, to the principal oboist, this means go-time.  I played the tuning pitches for the orchestra with the fly crawling around in my shirt.  As Dr. Mueller walked onto the stage and the orchestra stood to receive applause, the fly crawled around in my shirt.  For the entire first selection we performed, the fly crawled around in my shirt.  I have never had such a test of my musical concentration in my entire life.  At one point during the second piece, I inadvertently squished said fly.  I finished the concert with a fly corpse in my bra.

After this experience, several thoughts are circling in my mind:

• Music is a very fragile career.  The most minuscule thing (or creature) can really make life difficult / miserable.
• This is really, really funny story.
• I wish with all of my heart that this was someone else’s story and that I had not experienced it personally.
• If you can’t laugh about a fly corpse in your bra, your sense of humor is seriously lacking.

With that, I still played acceptably.  There were a few moments I would like to rewind and repeat, but most importantly, I played as best as I was able… with a fly in my shirt.

Realizations

Once again, a new semester has begun, unfolding with new challenges, joys and general devastations.  I took a chance and auditioned for the FM Symphony.  It wasn't an entirely embarrassing experience, for which I am grateful.  In truth, I felt okay about the way I played.  I was hopeful, but it wasn't meant to be.  Politics are everywhere - even in music.

I think the most sobering realization I have come to lately has involved the way we (society / people) tend to idealize the future.  When I graduate...  When I get that promotion...  When I have the chance to...

In a way, I am afraid of my future and its unpredictability.  The only way I can get through the day, sanity intact, is to tell myself, "life will get better after I graduate."  Will it?  Maybe, but it certainly isn't fair to put so much pressure on any transition of my life.  If I graduate and things don't get better or easier, what will I choose to tell myself at that point?  Life will get better when I finish my graduate degrees.  Life will get better when I get my first "real" job.  When does this end?  Most importantly, does this end?  Or, is this a coping mechanism for everyone - a way to envision a better life and future for ourselves when our day has taken a negative turn and we cannot find another way to cope?

As creatures constantly searching for a better life for ourselves, we tend to seek that which is bigger, prettier, more expensive and more impressive.  We want something, buy it, then turn our sights to something else.  Musicians are often on the prowl for a better instrument.  Men are always on the prowl for larger televisions.

These material items are different, though.  These are the smaller things that help us enjoy our lives as they are.  No single, material item will transform our lives from dull to fabulous.  So, what then?  How do we get the "when" to cease and begin enjoying the "now".  How do we appreciate the challenges of today and stop anticipating the supposed better days ahead?

I truly wish I had more to be enthusiastic about at present.  I'm over-tired and generally upset most of the time.  It feels so great to fantasize about a time, somewhere down the road, when I'm able to sleep regularly, perform in music groups, teach, earn a decent living and find a hobby outside the world of music - like basket weaving.

For now, I'll hang on to the shiny, positive, successful future stored in my imagination and let it be my motivation.  After all, if you complete the tasks you must complete now, you can do the things you want to do later.  Or so I am told...

Currently Listening Toxicity By System of a Down see related

Just Order Already

I've come to a rather shocking conclusion as of late.  I actually realized that life in general is a great deal simpler than I have made it out to be.  This realization came about this summer after experiencing a multitude of frustrating, confusing and surreal situations.  Allow me to elaborate.

I had to own up to a difficult idea a few months back.  The fact of the matter is, I probably won't be able to afford a graduate degree in music.  I already have a healthy balance in student loans from NDSU and stacking another $50,000 (at least) on top of that isn't a reasonable / practical decision.  Additionally, there's probably no way that any bank would allow me to do so without a cosigner.  Not to mention, having a doctorate in music is absolutely no sure way to get a decent job.  There are literally hundreds of unemployed saxophonists roaming the country begging for gigs.  If I were lucky enough to land myself a teaching gig in Muddy Creek, Georgia, it likely wouldn't pay well enough for me to pay off all of those student loans.  (Ahhh the mathematics of life.  What a bitch.)

This situation has forced me to consider other careers that might be worthwhile.  I have a multitude of ideas and have buried myself in employment websites, searching for interesting and challenging gigs.  It has actually been rather fun.  When I graduate, I'll cast the net far and wide, applying for a wide variety of jobs and to a wide variety of graduate schools.  I'll make a decision when I see what bounces back at me.  And I think I'm okay with that...

Another real eye-opener came in the form of an acquaintance.  This particular person is, without question, one of the smartest people I know.  He breezed though the toughest classes in school and probably never studied for a second.  After his graduation, he got a very normal, very un-glamorous job.  He now has a particular life routine and he seems to be genuinely content.  I am envious of that very thing.  When I think to the time in my life when I felt the most sane and the most content, I marvel at the concept.  Those times were simpler.  I knew exactly what each day was going to bring and had a strict schedule.  It felt great and I miss it.  Sure, it wasn't exactly living on the edge, but I loved it just the same. 

As I thought about this friend of mine, it occurred to me that I may not be the only person who feels like this.  My idea of a routine may be more watered down than another individual's idea of a routine, but the concept remains the same.  I think everyone is seeking a certain degree of stability, whether they want to readily admit it or not.  Perhaps some seek stability in the concept of having a totally unpredictable life.  To a certain extent, that is their chosen routine. 

Another mind blowing event, was a visit to Bismarck for the 4th of July.  I had a true heart-to-heart with my brother (or as close as we get to things like that) and he, for the first time, was completely honest with me.  It was incredible.  I found out a few things I had suspected, but hoped were not true and was surprised by his new take on life.  He was looking at a new job, he and his wife just purchased a new home and he (the eternal wild child and troublemaker) seemed to welcome the changes around him.  I wouldn't be surprised if he and his wife have some kids soon.  I'm happy for him and I'm also relieved that he has found something to bring him hope and happiness that isn't so fleeting as the things he sought comfort in before. 

All of these things have lead me to a few conclusions.

• Often times, the simplest things bring the greatest joy.  (Sounds like a fortune cookie)
• Tough decisions are only difficult until you're ready to own up to what it is you really and truly want.
• Honesty is the best way to get from A to B.  It's not really the easiest, but it can't come back to bite you in the ass.
• Learning from the experiences of others is a great way to fast-track your own decisions.  And if you can manage to learn from their mistakes without actually making those mistakes yourself, you're really on to something.
• If you write blogs that read like a self-help book, very few people will take the time to read them.  And that's okay.

This last semester is going to be my most challenging.  I have some big decisions to make, but I am comforted by the idea that most decisions are reversible.  If I choose unwisely, I have the rest of my life to keep searching for whatever it is I'm looking for.