Waaaaaay Too Long.

Oh my. It’s been a while. Je m’excuse! (to all four of you that read this…)

Mind is currently full of lots of things, not the least being Thanksgiving and the bf’s impending arrival home. Yippee! But that’s not until next Wednesday in the wee early morn, and I have much to do before then.

Thought I cracked a rib this week, but couldn’t figure out how in the blazes it would have happened. I don’t remember falling, or running into any walls (harder than usual), or any sort of blunt trauma to my midsection. But it hurt like hell and I felt like I was going to puncture my lung every time I yawned or laughed or hiccupped. Do you KNOW how hard it is to avoid a hiccup? I don’t recommend it. Also, my shoulder and left arm were going numb and tingly, and that’s just not good. Turns out it’s all connected and stems from having receptionist syndrome (leaning on my left elbow to answer the phone, holding the phone between my shoulder and head while I type, ergonomically incorrect chairs, blah blah blah) and dealing with the two 25 lb. dogs (i've been housesitting/petsitting) that like to jerk my limbs off and run in opposite directions. Thank goodness that it’s Friday and I get to go home to my own elderly pets and a backyard with a fence. It’s the little things.

Got the for-sure-yes-yes-ok-go-ahead on Croatia this week. Fundraising comes next, but I am incredibly excited. Started my passport paperwork, so that’s good. Might be cutting it a bit close, but I think it’ll be ok. I don’t think there’s anything too dark and dirty in my past to hold the process up. (Gotta have a little bit, or life wouldn’t be interesting.)

I’m finding myself slightly blocked when it comes to writing the narrative for my Christmas concert at church. I’m hoping it comes together soon, seeing as the program is on December 9th. Eeek. I find that I have a ton of ideas, but then my brain just starts going in fourteen hundred million directions and I lose that one thread. I don’t really know how to fix that. Any ideas outside of self-lobotomies?

Thanksgiving is coming. I like Thanksgiving. I like the smells and the tastes and the people and the warmth and everything that goes with it. But this year will be so vastly different in terms of the people around our table and those who are no longer with us. I’m just not sure how (or if) it’s going to hit me. I would hope that a year to process would be enough time, but there’s just no telling what sort of triggers lie beneath the surface… let’s hope it’s not the sweet potatoes! I like me some sweet potatoes. With marshmallows, natch.

New hair is fantastic. I’m rocking it. (Random, but that’s what this whole post is turning out to be. Deal with it.)

Also, my dear, dear friend moved to Chicago two weeks ago. Every Saturday for the past year we have had breakfast together. If we couldn’t meet for breakfast, we would make sure to meet for some other meal. She has been my sounding board, my partner in crime, my foodie buddy, my shoulder to cry on, my ‘boys are dumb and we love them’ compatriot, and the one to whom I knew I could say off the wall things without fear of judgment. I love you, C, and I miss you terribly. Eat a fruit tart for me, k? A and I will just have to hold down the fort without you.

Oh, and because I promised myself I would post something to this effect…

Brünnheather’s List of Fab Christmas Music:

(In no particular order; shuffling is encouraged.)

This album is a vision. Only song I don't really like is "Happy Xmas (War is Over)" but then, I've never liked that song, so it doesn't count. Her arrangements are exquisite and if "Wintersong" (the song) doesn't make you choke up just a bit, then deine brust is most definitely schwarz.

I rarely watch the TV special, but this CD is a mainstay of my Christmas collection. Vince Guaraldi is a fantastic jazz pianist (check out his non-Christmas trio stuff for perfect cocktail party music) and his voicings (major major seven chords RULE) and harmonic structures make even simple songs glamourous.

I'm sure none of you have heard of her. It's cool. Really. Just check out this album. Very fun, very light production, and there is a sweetness about this album that just makes people smile, but stops short of sugar shock. Her voice is not nearly as ethereal as Sarah's, but it's fresh and wholesome and reminds me of cold snow and hot chocolate.

A must. Wynton is known as being an incredible trumpeter and bandleader, and this album's no exception - the band is incredibly tight. And even though I can't stand her, Kathleen "Diva" Battle is stunning on "Silent Night."

Last, but absolutely not least... Ella. Oh sweet Ella. Ella of the impeccable phrasing, improvisational aptitude and infectious joy. She makes it sound so easy, but more importantly, she makes it sound fun.

Cheers, friends.

Playing Catch-Up

MMmk... Where was I...
Ah yes.

CROATIA.

As in, I'm going there. In February.

Lately I've been trying to make choices and life decisions based on what I want to do and where I think God is leading me, rather than what I think is expected of me based on some really whack criteria. It's delicious. I highly recommend it. In following that path, I decided to make my job switch: less law, more music. It was somewhat risky, but I felt like that was what I needed to do. So to then have an opportunity come along like this that *BAM!* affirms the choices I've been making, well, that's just peaches.

Also, reading a book that is blowing my mind, and I haven't even read the interview with Birgit yet.

Plus, it's autumn. Which means cider, donuts, sweaters, leaves changing colors, fireplaces, darker hair, and just six weeks til Thanksgiving and a visit. Huzzah!

Ding Dong Merrily On High...

And thus my favorite time of year begins with one phone call:

"Hi Heather, was wondering if you'd be able to sing Messiah with us this December?"

Why Yes! Yes I Would!

Fall + impending Christmas = happy Heather.

Inanimate Objects Have Feelings Too

Meh.

Headaches are not fun. Could be the crappy sleep I experienced last night. Could be the scrumptious half-brownie I had at staff meeting this morning and am now regretting (oh sugar, how you smite me). Could be that I am oh. so. ready. to be on the plane to Arizona via Vegas and my delicious other-half.

Could also be the fact that whenever fall rolls around I start thinking about school and how much I enjoyed it. Even though I'm on this current self-analysis kick relating directly to how much I've structured my life around good grades and approval, I can't help but think that an Artist's Diploma might be a great way to bide my time as my voice develops and as I figure out what the heck I'm doing with my art. Which led me to Roosevelt University in Chicago. They've got a great AD program in conjunction with Chicago Opera Theatre - one semester you study whatever it was that your previous coursework lacked, and then the next semester you sing on stage. The next year is rinse and repeat. Sounds like a good gig, no?

It's at least something to ponder. Of course, I really have no idea where I (we) will be in a year, which makes it hard to plot my course.

Oh for crying out loud. I need to enjoy what I'm doing right now and not get bogged down by what others are doing. THIS IS MY PATH, darnit!

I need some Advil.

(PS: I promise to have a malaise-free post before I leave on Wednesday. For reals.)
(PSS: this is when I should be chanting "shanti, shanti, shanti," right?)

2 Legit 2 Quit

Awesome. What a great way to start the weekend...

Note of the Day

Dear Manufacturers of the World:

I am tall. I am supermodel tall. I am not a supermodel.
I have curves. My body does occasionally zig where it should zag.
I appreciate your consideration of this fact.
What I do not appreciate, however, is that your idea of a pair of "tall" pants means an extra two inches on the end of the pant leg and does not, in fact, take into account that being tall means the rest of the body is also elongated. Instead, your "tall" pants make me feel like I'm wearing thong underwear. Backwards. While jogging.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Truly,
BH

It's been 10 years?

This is for my old roommate's now-husband, who used to think it was funny to imitate velociraptors at 3 am when I just wanted to sleep. Ah, the good old days...

Seriousnessnicity

I've been pondering a tattoo. And I finally found something that I would consider having on my body for all eternity. I'm completely aware that there are probably 4,275 women across the country sporting this same work of art on their respective limbs. But as a good friend told me recently, if you're going to have a tattoo then it needs to freaking mean something.

My life lately has been leading me on this journey of assurance of peace and the experience of grace - two things that have seemed just-out-of-reach for a long time. In no way am I truly 'good' with myself, but I'm getting there, and I can honestly say it's not of my own doing. Therefore, if I were going to have something permanently bonded to my skin, I would want it to be a reminder of the path I'm on and where I'm headed. I would want it to be something that speaks of greater Good, of hope, and of being at peace with myself and God. I leave myself the option of chickening out (needles scare the noodles out of me) but if I don't, this is what I'll be sporting:

Ah, Picasso. I don't always dig your stuff, but this one rocks.

I Guess I'm a Freaking Optimist - Updated!

I've been sitting here at my desk listening to my 2005 recital and my head's just been spinning in 427 different directions.

In the name of my musical soul, I recently made a huge decision to halve my hours at the firm and double my hours at my church (where I'm the Director of Music). While this decision provides me with glee and joy, it's now making the firm seem even more soul-sucking in comparison. Argh! make that 428.

I love what I do at the church and that's why I am so excited to be writing and composing and directing and practicing, etc. But for 20 hours a week I sit here at this desk and ponder. and contemplate. and Google. Not a good combination. Several of my friends are starting major careers (hellooooo Met) and it's very easy to get discouraged about the fact that I'm not. At least, not yet. 429.

But as I've been sitting here writing and re-writing this blog, the thought occurred to me that even if it doesn't look like what I initially expected, I truly believe that I will be successful. Even if it doesn't come with my own wikipedia entry. So, I'm glad that I nudged myself out of my rut and took a chance. It might not seem like a huge risk to those of you reading this (if anyone is), but I was getting really comfortable here at this desk. I had started thinking of careers that didn't revolve around music (wedding planning, anyone?) and I had stopped thinking of myself as a musician. And now, well, now I have the opportunity to stretch those parts of me that had started to atrophy. Now I have the opportunity, every day, to sit at a beautiful grand piano in a huge room and just sing. And I'm gonna get paid for it.

Hmm. When I put it that way, 20 hours seems like a small price to pay. Dang it. I was going to title this post "General Malaise Monday." Now I have to think of a new title. 430.

Update: Blogging Skills 102: how to include music in a post. Huzzah!

Q@#%P(U&@# %#P(%&

You've got to be kidding me. I just spent two hours writing a blog, and just as I was finishing up with some images, IE goes all crackhead on me and shuts down. and of course, the 'automatic draft' that blogger promised me is NOWHERE TO BE FOUND. doesn't exist.

this sucks.

I'll just say that i watched a crap ton of TVDVD this weekend, including the first six episodes of Arrested Development, first four episodes of Ugly Betty, and finished up Season 2 of The Office. Also read You Suck by Christopher Moore and it was hysterical. You don't even have to like vampires. But you should read Bloodsucking Fiends first, because it's also funny. Also, it came first. But right now i'm so peeved that i don't want to write anymore. So i leave you with this taste of my former blog. I call it "Guys in Ties, Apparently."

A Delicious Cycle of Raptors...

(thanks, xkcd)

What Kind of Rapper Name is Steve?

Ok. I've deflated my soapbox for the weekend. Which is why I will now share this:


I'm sure it's not new to most of you, but it's new to me (since I don't have cable and all). Whether or not it's new, it's DANG funny. Everytime I watch this something different strikes me as funny. Current fave? "Sometimes when I freestyle I lose my confidence..."
Happy Weekend!

Callas, Come Back

I had a very snarky opening paragraph to this entry, but I decided to delete it. Just didn’t feel right. I guess I’m a marshmallow at heart.

I would like to propose a new type of singing artist. This artist would strive for musical integrity, a warm and clear sound, natural projection, and most importantly, honesty and humanity in the voice and performance. The story should be told with musical expression, not a bunch of perfect pitches and vowels strung together in an emotionless void. I’m not saying that we should abandon mastery of the notes and the languages; I just think that when we are on stage, we should commit ourselves to the character, to the music that we have been given, and to the story itself.

I don't understand many of these actresses today who seem so dull on stage or who tell me that they just ‘can't get into the character.’ What is that?? The best actresses are the ones who inhabit the characters that they've been given. When it comes to lines and choices, it is not "what would so-and-so do?" but rather "what would have brought me to this decision in my life? What would I have to experience or think to come to this decision?" It may seem like a slight adjustment, but it makes a world of difference.

The experiences that I have had make it possible for me to access emotions and see things in different ways. We are not so very different from each other - stray a bit here or make a left turn instead of a right there, and we might all end up somewhere new. That’s what acting is - putting yourself in a situation that someone else has created and then figuring out how you would have ended up there. And of course I could be totally off-base here. This is just how I see it.

Don’t get me wrong: this is absolutely terrifying. You are never more vulnerable than when you explore the choices that you could have made, but didn’t. I just think that as singing artists, we have been given the most expressive of tools and it is our calling to create living scenarios.

Now who wants a s’more?

SYTYCD v. AI

It was just a matter of time before I figured out why “So You Think You Can Dance” made me giddy in my shoes while “American Idol” made me want to throw things at the television.

At some fork in the Road of Objectivity, America took a sharp left and ended up in that no man’s land of “of course you can, honey.” Shower-singers started to fancy themselves the love child of Mariah Carey and Frank Sinatra. Karaoke fanatics in dark smoky bars started to envision a life of Grammy Awards and sold-out tours. All you need is this DVD from Randy and Paula...

Before I go further, let me just say that I think Kelly Clarkson can rock. I enjoy her CDs and the way she’s banking the whole Janis Joplin-scratchy voice thing and I think she benefited fully from the fact that she was on the first season, before AI started gorging on its own success. I have no problem acknowledging talent in others. But if Kelly Clarkson had tried out for subsequent seasons, I truly don’t think she would have made it to the top two. I mean, Justin Guarini was the runner-up? YEESH. I watched “From Justin to Kelly” and it made me do two things: (i) throw away my crimping iron, and (ii) thank the stars above that KC had managed to avoid the Rachel Zoes of the world.

So now I come to SYTYCDDR (<3 beckyloo) and it’s like walking out of an airport into the most gorgeous weather you can possibly imagine.

I didn’t want to like it. I love dancing and watching dance and I thought the powers-at-work were going to muck it up just like they had AI. I was so, so, SO wrong. Because you can’t fake dance. You might not be good at all the different styles, but when it comes down to it, your feet either work or they don’t. You don’t get into the top 20, let alone the top 10, if you don’t have some serious chops. And this is where my biggest problem lies with AI: where is the challenge in singing a BeeGees song one week and a Bon Jovi song the next? Is this a singing competition? Or is it a makeover/popstar competition, What Not to Wear meets Grease? If they were to just come out and say that it was the latter, I’d be fine. Truly! I would take it at face value and leave it be, perhaps checking it out every once in a while for some snarktastic fun. It’s just that they label it as a singing competition. As if they’re challenging these singers on some extremely high level. Please. Half of being a singer is being a musician. SYTYCDDR recognizes that dancing has different facets. That’s why they do partner work and solo work. Goodness knows what would happen if AI made its recruits Sing for Their Lives!

One of the things that I enjoy so much about SYTYCDDR is that artistic growth is encouraged. We were all rooting for Danny to get Mia. We recognize that in this magnificent and accomplished dancer there is a man who is still coming to grips with his talent. Sara wore heels for the first time, Dominic danced a samba, Sabra's only been dancing for four years, Pasha danced a solo…the list goes on. I just have a hard time believing that there were any ‘firsts’ on AI this season.

Maybe that’s just the nature of AI. Maybe I should just get over it. I just wonder what would happen if they handed out Elizabethan art songs one week. Or duets. And no, hamming it up for a Ford Focus commercial doesn’t count.

“So what do you do, dear?” “I’m a musician.” “That’s nice. Do you play an instrument?” “I sing.” “OH! You should audition for American Idol!” “I really don’t think they’re going to want me.” “Why not?” “Because you have to either be hot or wear a crazy costume to get on the show.” “Well, I’m sure we could find you a hat or something...”

I'd have pulled Joan Sutherland's hair. (Updated)

Two years ago I graduated with my Masters Degree in Voice/Opera from a top-five school. For the past two years I’ve been working as a legal assistant.

O_o
(International symbol for mind-boggled eyes. Duh. )

I’ve been unmotivated when it comes to auditions because I feel somewhat trapped by my degrees. For example, let’s say someone graduates from law school and takes a job in a law firm somewhere. The pinnacle of having a law degree would be to make partner in a firm, right? (Yes, I know there are holes in this theory. Work with me.) So, said lawyer would work X amount of years knowing that the probability of making partner is directly related to the number of cases won/handled. It may be a somewhat long journey but it is reasonably predictable as long as you don’t lose someone else’s millions/sleep with a client/become an alcoholic/sleep in your office/yell at the plants.

The world of opera, however, provides no such guarantees. You might graduate from the best schools, do all the young artist programs, have super-smokin’ headshots and be friends with Jimmy Levine’s cousin’s granddaughter’s manicurist, but that doesn’t mean diddly squat when it comes to having a lasting and viable career.

So. Back to being motivated. I am prepping for an audition at the end of October, and wanted to find a new (to me) recording of an aria. So off to itunes I went and then BAM! I found her. I had heard mention of her (only because I had expressed interest in other Wagnerian sopranos not because my teachers ever really gave me listening assignments, not that I’m bitter). I knew only that she was a farm girl who happened to have pipes of steel. Well holy mother of things big and beautiful. This woman is officially my heroine of the day.

Reading back through her many interviews and the hundreds of obits that were written upon her death in 2005, I found that this was a woman I could totally look up to. She was hale, she was hearty, she sang what she wanted to, and she paced herself. Married at 30. Met debut at 40. Singing Strauss and Wagner well into her 70’s. Plus, the woman had a badass sense of humor. If I can’t find motivation in that, then schwarz ist meine brust.

Here she is, singing one of the most beautiful arias ever written: "Mild und leise" (aka the "Liebestod") from Wagner's Tristan und Isolde.

Kupka, not Kafka

Ten minutes looking at this and I'm totally at peace.

Containment

I have so many random bits roaring around in my brain that I thought it would be nice to have a virtual storage bin.