In June, I was asked to sing our National Anthem for the graduation ceremony of The Art Institute of Philadelphia.

The energy in the hall was as palpable as it was audible, from the crinkly cellophane of street vendor flower bouquets, to the hundreds of red, blinking eyes of parents' camcorders. 

At this time in my life, I found it interesting and inspiring - and not a little melancholic - to be on the other side of the festivities, wishing so much that I could have known then what I know now.  Several things stood out that afternoon. 

First, there were a small group of students who excelled, with many of that select few picking up multiple merit awards.  They shined.  By comparison, the rest who filed up to received their diplomas, didn't.  It thought, would they ever shine, if they weren't shining now?

Second, the one who shone brightest, perhaps not coincidentally, was the Valedictorian.  I had to wonder if his magnetic personality, artistic optimism, and energetic vision brought him his academic success, or if his successes served to increase his charisma.  I concluded that one must increase the other.  It obviously didn't matter which way it worked in his case, because - either way - he had it!  I envied him.  A lot.

Third, the Dean's Address.  It sounded quite simple: a 4-step plan for success.  So laughably simple, in fact, that I wondered why one wouldn't just know these things.  But like so many things in life, we (OK, I) think that complexity equals profundity.

The 4 keys to Success:
(1) Show up.
(2) Exceed expectations.
(3) Ask for help when you need it.
(4) Savor the experience.

Simple?  Yes. 
Easy?  Un-huh. 

Each step contradicts a corresponding human condition: (1) Procrastination, (2) Trying to get away with doing the bare minimum, (3) Stubborn self-sufficiency, and (4) Thinking that things could always be better.

So, in thinking lately about what to do about finding other retail locations for Belle Pietre, I've decided to heed step #3, by asking for help from friends and fans. 

Do you know of, or are you a customer of, an artisan boutique in your area?  One that handles hand-crafted items of all sorts, including jewelry?  If you've seen my work, you'll be able to determine if the shop and Belle Pietre would be a good match. 

I'd love to know of any such shops, and would be most grateful to you for helping to make a connection! 

(...and I promise to savor the experience!)
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Control Freak 08/27/2011
 
It would seem that most of my ramblings, despite the intended subject matter, end up being about control...or the lack thereof.

This week as been an exercise in, and wake-up call to, just how little control I actually have.  When I think of how many things I've tried exerting control over - people, situations, money, people (deserves to be mentioned twice, if not more), the creative spirit, discipline, my voice, what food I put in my mouth, what thoughts whirl around in my bean - I can see the folly of my repeated efforts.

Mother Nature has proven this week, with two blazing examples of her might - an earthquake on Tuesday, and now hurricane Irene, whose effects will be felt even here on Spruce Street tonight and tomorrow - that I actually hold little, or (gasp!) no, control over w-a-a-a-a-y more than I'd care to admit. So, the lesson from Irene is this - preparation is key.

Standing in line at Trader Joe's and CVS, stocking up on non-perishable foods, batteries and water (and, yes, a bottle of wine, too) I was feeling like an alarmist, since the day was so sunny and nice.  I couldn't help thinking that it seemed like just another significant forecast that wouldn't end up being what had been anticipated as The Storm of the Century. 

But the thing is, you just never know.  So I lugged home my booty, and now I'm hunkered down, and prepared for a power outage and flooding.

On the 4th floor.

So how, then, does preparation play a part in giving up control?

It's being prepared, doing all that's possible, and then letting go to let the Fates step in...whether it's nature, an agent I'm auditioning for, a potential buyer for my jewelry, or a situation that I'm invested in working out in a particular way.  I can really only do my best to be as prepared as possible.

So, I have potable water and batteries, and will be comfy here at home come what may.  For the agent, staying in good vocal shape and knowing my repertoire cold allows me freedom to express and (dare I say it?) enjoy an audition.  Having gorgeous new pieces of jewelry ready to show at my retail outlets, or on hand when a new client wants to see my work, gives me freedom from having to create on the fly.

It's one of those ironic things of opposition, I guess.  Trying to control can only bring frustration, and giving up control can only bring freedom. 

But only with preparation!
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For Art's Sake 08/08/2011
 
Inspired by a visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art yesterday, I sat down this morning to create something, Belle Pietre-wise. 

I put on some “noodle-y music “ – meaning background-y, unobtrusive, uplifting.  Then, for something new, the kitchen timer was set for one hour, and I looked for a plausible reason as to why this was an auspicious day to work. 

Numerology -wise, it was good.  I added up the numbers of the date today, 8/8/2011, got 18, and then added those two numbers: 1+8=9, which was the square root of My Number: 3!   (A little "out there," I know, but I’m alternately superstitious and fascinated by such things…)

I also vowed to myself that today was NOT going to be about completion, but rather playing around with the components to see what works, what doesn’t, what’s possible, or not.  

As I put together, took apart, put together, and took back apart many combinations of beads, findings and spacers with the square Mother-of-Pearl pieces I was focused on using, I felt the all-too-familiar nudge-iness build.  I wanted it done. 

Now.

I let my mind drift, though, and it floated back to yesterday and the museum, and the story behind  of one of the many famous Renoirs. 

He had, apparently, labored over this painting for three years.
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"The Large Bathers" 1884-87, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 46 3/8 x 67 1/4"
3 years!

Granted, one Belle Pietre piece is barely equivalent to half a dewdrop on a single blade of Impressionist grass in the vast landscape of Renoir’s oeuvre, but I have to believe that the process itself is the same.  Pierre-Auguste MUST have whined and wanted to chuck the whole thing countless times!

Long story short – just as the timer “booped” the allotted hour, I’d come upon a combination that made me happy, that worked in terms of scale and just-so-ness, and (how I best judge my work) it was something that I would be proud to wear.

With the Pressure to Complete off, the piece was...

...complete!
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Medea ~ Iridescent Mother-of-Pearl squares swing from sterling silver ovals and narrow rings, along curved tubes and a decorative toggle clasp
Read more about The Large Bathers here: http://www.philamuseum.org/collections/permanent/59196.html
And more about Renoir and his works here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre-Auguste_Renoir
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Yes, and... 06/06/2011
 
If you've never heard of Comedy Sportz, I highly recommend it.  I was taken on a date to one of their events last summer, and fell in love with the "sport," and the dozens of men and women who hung their improvisatory comedic heinies out there! 

Comedy Sportz is based on the same premise as Drew Carey's show, "Whose Line is it Anyway" from a few years back.  As fascinated as I am by those who do it, and as intrigued enough as I am to think that maybe I could do it, it's the improvising itself that prevents me from running to sign up for the classes that Comedy Sportz offers locally, from newbie improvisers to advanced.

What I fear most, I suppose, is getting stuck in an unfunny spot and not being able to get out of it, or go further, and just having to stand there with comedic egg on my face.  

I have a theory about being able to extemporize - that it's really a right/left brain thing, and that you're either equipped genetically to do it naturally, or you're not.  I consider myself WAY too cut and dry, and OCD-y, to just be able to let fly and run with something new and unknown.

I read something recently though, that blows my theory out of the water.  It seems that there really is a technique to it!  The improv principle is known as “Yes And.”

It works like this:  At the beginning of a scene, Character #1 begins by establishing setting and plot.  The “Yes And” then comes into play with Character #2 accepting the premise and adding on to the situation, and NOT negating.  The scene then plays out from there, always "Yes"-ing and "And"-ing.

It means going with the flow, with what has already been put forth and seeing where that takes you.  Of course, I'm pretty sure that my immediate reaction would be to try to plan ahead, and then force the other person to go with what I had envisioned.  

But that wouldn't create a true dialogue, would it?  I'd have my own little monologue going, and just trying to force another person to play by my script, instead of being open to letting the eventual whole be better than the sum of my one part plus theirs!  

It certainly does away with pre-concieved notions of how the scene will play out, and it forces all  involved to really be in the present moment.

Searching around a bit on Google, I see that many have adopted and adapted this approach in business,  team building, workplace efficiency, and although I haven't seen it, it must be helpful in conflict resolution and fair fighting in relationships.  I can see, too, how it might help in my world, in teaching voice, singing, and in creating Belle Pietre baubles!

I'm thinking, in particular, about all the times, in a fit of creative urgency (read that, an upcoming show or a frantic commission deadline) I've gotten all my beads and supplies out on the table, ready to conquer them.  

No sooner have I strung a handful of beads that I had thought would work up beautifully and easily, when I take one critical look, swipe them off the beading wire, and get immediately resigned, exhaling a frustrated sigh and "hurrumph".

So what would happen, then, if I stopped short of the "No But" and went with "Yes And"?!  

Maybe I could look at what I'd strung and not throw in the towel immediately.  I could keep what's there and add something: a different size, a contrasting color, an interesting focal bead to change the necklace shape, add a 2nd strand or maybe a 3rd for a more dramatic texture.  Anything rather than scrapping it all, putting the beads away in their bag, and stomping off with a pout.

And if I did that, I'd get many more pieces made - and faster - and I'd end up with new and interesting items that I hadn't actually set out to make.  Isn't that what creatives do?

It's like Comedy Sportz improvisers, who end up with very different story lines and funnier material than what they could have imagined starting out.

And therein, ultimately, lies the fun, the mystery, and - for control freaks like me - the challenge of improvising. 


www.comedysportz.com


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There's a wonderful blog post by NY voice teacher Susan Eichhorn-Young, entitled Suck it up, Princess.  It addresses the all-too-human trait of 1) making excuses, and 2) finding reasons, for (fill-in-the-blank). 

Truly, it's not as snarky as the name would suggest, but it DID come to mind lately - not only as it applies to me, but to others I've had dealings with recently. 

Although it's comforting to think that Excuse Making and Reason Finding must surely be a Universal- and Part-of-Being-Human Thing, it is also endemic to artistic types for whom hanging their Creative Heinies out is a daily deed.  But then isn't that just another excuse?  (And if not an excuse, then surely it must be a good reason!) 

The remedy, I think, is another of those Simple But Not Easy things: 

INTEGRITY

Dictionary.com defines it thusly: 
[in-teg-ri-tee]  –noun 1. adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty. 2. the state of being whole, entire, or undiminished.   3. a sound, unimpaired, or perfect condition.

Oooof, that's a lot to ask, isn't it?  Sisyphus and his big ole boulder come to mind, exhausting me before I can even start, with the very notion of the herculean effort of his (literal) uphill battle.  

As much as I like to make complicated things even MORE complicated, I would offer this, decidedly UNcomplicated, definition, that resonates with me not so much because I naturally embody, it, but because it is SO NOT what I want to hear:

"Integrity is doing what you say you're going to do when you say you're going to do it."

Like I said - simple but not easy.

So, here's a challenge:  Think about one little thing, anything really, you've been stalled on, or have been procrastinating about.  Now see if there is an element or an issue about it where you're "out of integrity."  (I've done it already, and I'll bet you a quarter that it will unleash a herd of excuses and/or reasons, just like it did for me.)  

But instead of staying stuck in that and the ensuing self pity - or worse - self-flagellation and scrutiny, look rather to see what's missing, and then go to any length to make just that ONE little thing right - to get back "IN integrity."

And it's going to feel good.  It really will.  And then it'll possible to do that other thing, and then another.  And then maybe a bigger thing, maybe something that's REALLY important, and will mean something in the Big Picture.

Another benefit? - other people will be WAY less annoyed.   No one really wants to hear excuses and reasons for "why" do they?  I don't want to hear them from others, and it's getting so even I'm tired of hearing my own.

Alright then, now we're getting somewhere!



Read Susan Eichhorn-Young's entire post here:
http://susan-oncemorewithfeeling.blogspot.com/2010/03/suck-it-up-princess.html
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This past weekend, I was asked to judge the Bristol Riverside Theatre's talent competition - StarPower 2011.  For the countless times I've been on the other side of the adjudicators' table as a singer, I'd yet to ever be The Judge.
 
My view of what it took to be a judge was to have a large pad of paper, doodle mindlessly while chatting with the other judge(s), or shuffle noisily through papers, all with a pained - or, even worse, bored - expression on one's face.   At least that was my view, from the OTHER side.

But now I've experienced it - as Joni Mitchell sings - from "Both Sides Now."

Having sat for an evening in the judges seat, I can see clearly that the people listening to me over the years really WERE looking for me to succeed.  They still do.  They WANT me to be good - so that they can fill their slot on a roster, or cast a show, or find a fabulous someone to feature as a soloist in a concert. 

It's hard to admit that I've STILL thought of those people as being like my freshman music theory teacher, Mary Arlin, who MUST'VE been an inherently evil person, and was simply out to get me, a pretty young voice student who would rather learn new repertoire than begrudgingly do her theory homework.

On Saturday evening, I really DID want every contestant to wow me, and was disappointed when they didn't.  Sometimes, it was because a song was just not right for them, or they were copying the original artist and not making it their own.  Sometimes, it was due to over-doing, or under-doing, or just plain NOT doing because of inexperience or nerves.

The beauty part, was that I could relate to each and every act I judged.  And I learned something HUGE for myself  - and for every other person that hangs their Creative Heinie out there in the world:

~ Do what you do best - and don't stop until you figure out EXACTLY what that is.
 
~ Don't EVER try to be someone else.  Make whatever it is you do your own.  Own it!

~ Work at what you're doing, figure out what works and what doesn't, and know it SO well that it becomes second nature, and then when you get a chance to do what you do, you can BE in the moment, DOING what you do expressively, organically, honestly. 

And then you'll earn the right kind of attention from the judges.   After that, the Apples and Oranges Thing applies.  Whether you're the right type, the right act, the right whatever they need. 

Simple?  Yes. 

Easy?  No!

But that's what's involved in EVERYTHING in life that we pour our best selves into.  And for those who can't, won't, or don't fully commit to whatever the "something" is, THIS  is the issue that can actually make it less painful to NOT commit. 

For someone who has a strong aversion to criticism, even the constructive kind, I suppose it's ironic that I would subject myself to years of it in the arts, opera and classical music specifically, and now - in addition - with creating jewelry. 

I've read many an inspirational story (and a billboard along the way somewhere) that offers comfort, by reasoning that a baseball player's hitting average that will land him in the Hall of Fame is one where he's struck out 7 times out of 10.  As assuring as that can be, though, the average for artists and creative types is typically even LESS. 

But isn't that what makes it all that much more worthwhile - when I get called for a gig, have an awesome opportunity to sing and perform again with colleagues I haven't seen in years, or be accepted to show my work at a juried Art Exhibit.  It IS worth it, and it always has been, no matter how many times I may have "struck out" first. 

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So what's the most fearsome thing about doing something new?  Well, uh, actually DOING it.  Figuring out what needs to get done, how to do that, and well, just doing it.

That happened recently at my first public showing at the Philadelphia Designer's Market.  There's a bit of back story (isn't there always?) that started right after Easter when I was rehearsing at First Baptist Church for a large work we (Alan & I) were to perform in the service the next day. 

Upon finishing, we were drawn from the sanctuary to the brightly-lit Education Hall which was ABUZZ with people and display tables of handmade items, mostly wearable things in the way of designer tee's, accessories, clothing and jewelry.

Well, my Jeweldar (radar which will "beep" out significant jewelry within a certain radius) went wild, and I had the thought that I should do the next event with Belle Pietre!

I went home, put a note in a book I keep for such inspirations and promptly forgot about it.  Fortunately, Danelle, the awesome creatoress of this event, had taken my email address and, long after I'd given it it's last thought, an announcement popped into my Inbox for the next event, being held mid September. 

In a flurry of reckless optimism, I payed my registration fee then and there through PayPal.  My work was accepted - and good thing, too, for if I hadn't acted on impluse, I most likely would have been turned away since they can only accept so many jewelry designers! 

As with most things, rather than working calmly and methodically all summer leading up to the event, I did most of the work in the last two weeks.  For me, I suppose it's the thrill of drama and potential creative peril that keeps me doing things that way.  Or maybe it's the age-old Rescue Fantasy we all have, the idea that someone might save us from this New Thing I Don't Know How To Do.  

However, with necessity being the mother of invention, and time getting REALLY short (as was my sleep), an excitement - alternating with thoughts of "OMG, what am I doing???" - took form, and ideas began to come unbidden!   

I could begin to see what I wanted the display table to look like, and then thought of who I could ask for props, and help with visual design.  And with that framework in place, things and people and ideas all started to appear in my path 

It was extraordinary, really, how inspired the process got when I realized that I really wasn't doing, and didn't HAVE to do, it myself.  Of course, my stubborn, self-sufficient Only Childness had to put a sock in it, but the result of letting go of even a snitch of control was beyond my wildest imaginings!

Out of this experience, and talking about the doing of it, other inspired ideas have come, as have offers of encouragement and help.  And isn't that the best stuff of the Creative Life? 

As a result of this "first" and sharing the story of it - and honestly admitting the accompanying creative angst - I was offered a gratis session with professional Creative Consultant, Maryann Devine this week.  She will, in turn, use the transcript of our session as the basis for one of her incredible blog entries. 

(Do have a gander at what Maryann's work is all about at:
http://www.smartsandculture.com/.)

I suppose then, that just proves the point of the foolhardiness of trying, or even thinking of trying, to do this Creative Thing alone!  I don't think we were meant to, and those who do are missing out on the sweet reward of being encouraged by others and then passing along at least a bit of what's been received to another.  

I know for sure that it's sweeter to share what I've learned and have been given, than to try to keep it all for myself!
With special thanks to AVA Dean of Students Val Starr; David Tinsch, Friend & Visual Design Consultant Extraordinaire; each customer and EVERYONE who came by and gave such positive feedback for my creations!
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Above, the finished display the day of the show.
Below, senior partner of the Belle Pietre Design Team hard at work the day before.
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Above, beautiful Jennifer, who - just like I used to do with new Buster Brown shoes as a kid - wore her "Vitellia" necklace out of the show.
Below, Judy was thrilled with the TWO pieces she purchased, including the 4-strand amethyst "Lucia" that she put on immediately!
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It's true for many things, isn't it, that once you experience something better than what you're used to, it's terribly hard to go back.  And maybe that's what keeps us stiving and not settling, so that we can move ahead and up.

It works not only with entrusting my Belle Pietre babies to retail consignment shops, but in handbags, travel plans, and most everything in life.

I'm happy to report that the seemingly endless hours of work required to save a whole collection of my jewelry from their tarnished, mis-treated doom at one location, has already nicely payed off! 

I had news last week from Reg Grant at Grant Jewelers in Skaneateles that he's had great interest in my work, and a number of sales to show for it already!  Not only did he call me personally, but he put a check in the mail that day, and has already requested more pieces!

The owners of Adornamenti are just as particular about the shop.  I visited there not long ago, and Michael - a man after my own heart - had lint roller in hand, tidying up the black velvet display stands!  Now THAT'S how I want my baubles to be treated.  They deserve nothing less.  And neither do I!

Of course it takes seeing something better, and taking the plunge to invest in it, to know that what you're used to is just not working anymore. 

Take the brown leather tote I purchased last month.  It was more than I usually spend (which has always amounted to the best of the cheapest on the sale rack) but I loved it, and felt grand with it thrown over my shoulder.  The fun striped lining now gleams and glams up at me every time I open it to put something in. 

Could I go back to "Pleather"?  Only if I really LOVED it!

Tomorrow I leave for Istanbul.  The opportunity was given to me by my darling student, Ayca Yesim, who presented the offer twice.  In the fall, a trip to Turkey seemed far, far out of the realm of possibility.  When she invited me again in March, her question of, "Why don't you come?", turned rhetorical. 

Why don't I come, indeed!  It's taken some planning, a small dose of courage, and a larger portion of throwing caution to the wind, but I'm leaving tomorrow! 

If I keep settling for what I've always had, that's  exactly what I'll keep getting.  And there is SO much more, different, and better in this world to experience, to explore, to enjoy! 

As Mame declares to Agnes in THE best line from Mame:

Agnes Gooch: "Live?"
Auntie Mame: "Yes! Live! Life's a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!"

It's up to me to grab the biggest plate, tie a long linen napkin around my neck, and belly up to the banquet table!

Yes!
Live!
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This week, I listened to Alan (brilliantly) play the Bach Prelude & Fugue (St. Anne) in E-flat Major (BWV 552).  From the sanctuary of First Baptist Church in Philadelphia, I was transported back 6 years, and hundreds of miles away to the Votivkirche in Vienna, Austria. 

I was traveling in Germany, and had made a side trip to Vienna to sing for an agent.  As luck would have it, I was there at the exact time as a dear friend who was to sing in a concert of Russian music in the Votivkirche. 

My sightseeing, the day of the concert, purposely included a trial run from my hotel on Mariahilferstrasse to the church and back, just to make sure that I'd know where I was going in the dark of evening. 

It was a bitterly cold December day, and I pulled my new shearling hat down over my ears as I made my way across the city.  I entered the church, to hear familiar strains of a piece of organ music - Bach's "St. Anne" - that I'd heard so many times at home.

In an instant, the familiarity of the work made me feel not so far away.  I wandered up the aisle, eyes cast upward to the majestic Baroque-ness, welling up in thankfulness that I was able to experience such wonders.

That evening, I attended the concert of the Bolshoi Don Kosaken.  My Bulgarian friend, Georgi, who I had not seen in over a dozen years, was now living in Germany, and was singing as a substitute tenor in the group for this one concert.

Assuming that a last-minute ticket would find me somewhere far in the back, behind a sight-obstructing column, I was giddy with the treatment I received - worthy of a princess! 

Thanks to Georgi, I was ushered to the very first rows, and seated next to the wife of the CONDUCTOR of the group!  In the chill of the enormous church on a cold winter's night, she generously offered me part of her fur coat to tuck around my legs.

The concert of urgent, melancholic, heartfelt, Russian music brought tears to my eyes, with the familiar tunes.  The melodies of that music somehow bypassed the fact that I've never heard some of them before, yet still seem familiar. 

And to see Georgi's smiling, familiar face among the fine singers, made that evening, swaddled in the Conductor's wife's fur, listening to the Music of my People, sung by a dear friend from another time, was pure, Viennese Magic. 

As I left the Votivkirche, the night was crisp and cold, and I looked up to see the brightest of moons.  I made my way to the U-Bahn singing the Moon Song that Mommie and I always sing, in harmony: "I see the moon, the moon sees me.  God bless the moon, and God bless me."

How one piece of music has the power to ignite layer upon layer of memory, is just one of it's wonders.

Thank you, Alan & J.S. Bach, for that one...
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The idea of renouncing all worldly goods and seeking detachment from material things doesn't appeal to me.  Walking through the world with nothing but a saffron robe and an empty rice bowl is for MUCH more highly evolved beings than me.

I like stuff.

I like the feel of things - objects that have weight and texture, substance and permanence.  I like the leftover to hold on to, after the experience. 
My drawers are filled with bits of this and that, amassed from here and there - souvenirs, gifts, reminders, and markers of places visited and things done.  To me, half the fun of the trip is the stuff I come home with. 

Perhaps, I seek to balance the ephemeral nature of singing.  For once a note or a phrase is sung, it's essence of mere vibration spirals out and away into the ether, fading to eventual nothingness.  Gone.  Nothing remains, save the memory in the hearer's ear.   

But then again, maybe I just like stuff. 

It's no wonder that I'm drawn to stones.  What could be more permanent than stone?  The "stuff" of my earliest days of childhood was all like that, things that helped me learn about nature, about cultures, the things of my world, and things that were out of this world!

Who knew that those things, sharks teeth, Indian beads, arrowheads, along with a special cotton -cushioned box of shiny chunks of pyrite, tiger's eye, and obsidian, collected from family travels, would eventually lead me to creating lovely jewelry out of just such stones!
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