Results

Well, it looks like everyone got into all-states...except me. It feels like something out of a book. The main character is the single one left out That just means I'm the most important character. That's how the story always goes: there's an energetic song with a promo of me working harder in it in a very short amount of time, and then we fast forward to next year when I finally get in. Then there's cheering as I'm lifted high onto the shoulders of my peers. Roll credits.

Thankfully, lives aren't always like movies. It would be too predictable if it were, and I really enjoy the spontaneity that life has to offer. Mr. Caron tells me that I was close. I missed the cutoff by 16 points, which is odd since 16 is my favorite number. It hasn't exactly served me well this time. It would have been nice to perform at Symphony Hall.

I have sectioned out this week to care about my results and allow myself to feel upset or hurt over them. After this period is over, it's time to move on. I should use this system more often, because to be honest, I'm a little hurt by what happened. I understand that they didn't let me in and I feel that I was given a score that was more than fair. But the fact that I was the only one in my school who didn't make it in is what upsets me. It would be better if at least one of them hadn't gotten in. I know that's selfish, but what do you care? These are my thoughts, and they're allowed to be selfish and biased. It's not as if I'm not immensely proud for the way my school is represented, that all these wonderful performers are now able to really show off their talents, many of them planning to go into musical careers. That's it: outweigh the negative with the positive, because you can always find more positive things to talk about once you get the hang of it. That's why I am allowing myself to feel a little mad before I can accept it. If I try to suppress what I feel and pour consolations into my mind now, it will just be bottled up. This way, I can release it and really truly move on. The song I got to play was a lot of fun and I still think that I did the very best I could in that audition. I will leave with more good memories than bad. I'm still auditioning next year, because after that it will all be over.

It really donned on me recently that by this time next year, I will be well into my senior year and applying to colleges. I'll be writing applications and applying for scholarships, plus any essay that are required for that. The guidance department is already having us plan out our classes next year. It's a tough decision, because I'm not completely aware of my limits and what I can handle versus what will be too easy or too hard. Should I take the first level of AP Calculus or the second? And what about AP English? There's a lot to think about, the least of which is what will look good on a transcript. My friend was recently talking to me, and she was talking about choosing classes based on what colleges would want to see. What I said to that was that the aspect of what colleges want shouldn't be as important on your list as what you want to do. If you stay true to that, then any college you want is going to love you. A teacher recently said to my brother that the fact that we are getting good grades in a highly rated high school is enough that colleges are gonna want us. It certainly makes me feel better to think that, because the guidance counselors have only succeeded in stressing us out to the point where we feel like we should be doing more, but there's nothing for us to actually do at this point. It feels like those dreams, where there's something chasing you but for some reason you can't run, and if you can you're going very slowly, as if you're on a treadmill. I much prefer the dreams where I can leap into the air and take off with my spontaneous wings as fast and as high as I like.

Letting Go of the Oars

I think my All-States audition went as well as it possibly could have. I mean, I totally bombed the sight-reading piece, but who wouldn't?? That thing changed time signatures every measure! First it was 3/4, then it was 5/8, and then it was common time for only two measures before switching to 7/4, and so on. I'm just glad he didn't make me play the entire thing. Everything else though felt great. I played everything as well as I had in my practices, simply because I wasn't nervous. I think I've auditioned for these things so often that I've finally gotten to the point where it's no big deal. If you do something enough, it becomes second nature. I am already proud of myself for getting this far, it would be wonderful to get in. All I can think about right now is seeing that confirmation email from Mr. Caron telling me that I managed something that I never would have though possible just one year ago. It boosts me up so much that I'm not even allowing my mind to wander to how I would feel if the outcome were different. I would be playing in Symphony Hall! I don't care about getting my hopes up and having them be misled. Because feeling this way is wonderful, and to even have this in this moment is better than anything else I could be feeling instead. Why would I pull myself down and sink when it feels so much better to hold myself up and fly.

Luckily for me, the process is now entirely out of my hands. It's up to the managers of the band and the universe to line this up for me. My band director will email me as soon as he gets word of the results. All I have to do is wait and remember that everything always works out for me. There's a little story my mom once told me about letting go of resistance. Picture this in a nice soothing voice:

You are sitting on a boat in a soft flowing river. You look upstream and decide you want to go there. You take the oars and begin paddling upstream, but the current is too strong. You keep pulling and pulling, but to no avail. The more you try, the harder it gets and the more frustrated you feel. Then, with a sense of resolution, you place the oars back in your boat. You lay down and close your eyes, letting the babbling current take you downstream. You feel relaxed, and you are free.

That's what life is meant to be.

(By the way, here's the Boston Symphony Hall. Isn't it fantastic?!)

Almost There

As I mentioned in my last blog post, I was accepted into the Senior District Concert Band. This was the first time that I have been accepted in 3 years of auditioning, starting my freshmen year, though I auditioned twice for the Junior Districts when I was in middle school. The only reason I didn't audition in 8th grade was because my grade took a school trip to Washington D.C., a "do-not-miss" opportunity.

Anyway, I have a theory as to why I got in with the second highest score and a recommendation for all-states. Usually, the audition would consist of me playing only my primary instrument, the snare drum. I would play the assigned audition piece, do some rudiments and drum rolls, and then I would sightread a piece taped to the music stand. But it never seemed to be enough. There were those few people that would just edge me out. Each year I was getting closer and closer. This year, I told myself that if I didn't make it this time, then I wouldn't audition in my senior year. The feeling of working so hard yet being faced with the disappointment of only just missing the mark had built up over the years and I didn't think I could do it again. Lucky for me, I did get in this year and the joy and love I felt for participating in that amazing group does more than make up for the years I had to watch as my brother got a near perfect score every time and got to play on that stage in Mechanics Hall. This year, they not only had me play my snare drum, but also I was to play timpani, mallets (xylophone, marimba, etc.), and two auxiliary instruments (I was asked to play bass drum and triangle). It was a blast. The best thing about the percussion section is that there is such a vast arrangement of instruments that I have the opportunity to play. Each year, I am learning about a new one. This year it was the "whirly tube," a contraption that looked very much like a giant bendy straw that you would whirl around your head to make a whistling sound as the air passed through it. So to be able to audition and show people that I can do more than bang on a drum (though even with that, there's a lot more to it).

And tomorrow, I will be auditioning for All-States. It would mean the world to me if I managed to get in. In Districts, I was up against the best in the district, but now, I'm up with the best of the best in the state of Massachusetts. It's a little nerve-wracking, I'll admit, but at the same time, I wouldn't have it any other way. My favorite part of being with the district band was playing with such talented musicians. We worked so hard to get where we all were. And there's something to be said about people who come together under a common purpose. Music is a great joy in the lives of anyone who lives within its realm. To be involved in music in any way, whether playing or actively listening, it has been proven to improve your entire well-being. My conductor in the Districts even said that music students have tested with a higher GPA than other students. I don't know what I would be doing if music were not in my life as it is now. I just watched Les Miserables, so I'm even more nostalgic for the sound of a great orchestra. Not sure if I used that word right, but oh well, it really sounded like it fit.

I don't think I could be anymore prepared for this audition than I am right now, in this moment. I have been staying after with my band director, Mr. Caron, every day this week. I've also had my mid-terms this week, which means that I've had a half day all week, giving me even more time to practice and reassure myself that I am capable of doing this. I've made it this far, and now Symphony Hall is right within my sights. I am so close. I don't care if I don't get in. Actually, that's a lie, I would care a lot. What I mean is that I feel great just being here, where I am right now, before even setting foot in that audition room. I've learned the music, I've prepared the rudiments, and all the work to train my muscle memory has been done. All I have to do now is go into that school and show them why I love what I do. The most important thing that I do is that I enjoy what I'm doing and have fun. People pay attention to the ones that look joyful and thoroughly happy to be there. I want to be that person. The one about whom they say, "She is dedicated. She can do this."

Cymbal Catastrophe

On the night of January 18th, I performed in the Senior District Concert Band at Mechanics Hall in Worcester. It's taken three years for me to get in, and I am so happy that I have finally accomplished this. Also, I got a recommendation to audition for All-States! I will be up against the best people in the state, not just the district. The audition is this Saturday, the 25th. I'm nervous, but excited to be given this wonderful chance. Performing at Mechanics Hall was definitely one of the coolest things I have ever done. It was so amazing to play with such talented musicians. The conductor, Mr. Glen Adsit, was a joy to work with and overall a very cheerful guy. Each one of our rehearsals just flew by, they were so much fun. Every single group -- the orchestra, the jazz band, and the choir -- did a beautiful job and the majority of it went off without a hitch!

I say "majority" because of what happened during the band's performance. Specifically in the percussion section. It may have been me. Okay, it was me. But it wasn't my fault, I swear. 

In total, we played three pieces. The first was Give Us This Day by David Maslanka, a man who composes music by first meditating for hours. Afterwards, he sits down to to notate everything he heard and visualized while he was meditating. Then he walks away; the piece is completed. And man, this piece was truly incredible. I got to roll the gong to fortissimo! How often does sheet music call for that? It took me a couple tries just to get the gong loud enough so the audience would be able to hear me. And let me tell you, it's a lot of fun being told you can let loose and just whack something with all your strength. Maybe that's why I was so drawn to being a percussionist. Our next piece was Rest by Frank Ticheli, who is apparently good friends with Mr. Adsit. This piece was all about the transition into death. It was very beautiful, putting the audience in a relaxed state of mind, and even me, since I didn't have a part to play and I could just sit back and listen. Our final song was Galop by Dmitri Shastokovic. To help ready the audience for the rest of the concert, this piece was fast and upbeat. As you can imagine, it was about the tempo of a horse galloping. The conductor didn't want to have a long wait to start the song, so his plan was to step off his podium to take a bow for the applause after Rest, and then he would walk back to his spot and immediately begin the piece. Knowing this, I picked up the crash cymbals that I would be playing and got into place. Unfortunately, as I did so, the left cymbal suddenly decided it was done having a handle and wanted to be an individual. Or maybe the cymbal and the handle had a spat. Because, for whatever reason, the knot holding the cymbal in place came undone, and the cymbal crashed to the floor. 

It was just about the loudest thing that could have happened. Of all the instruments, the loudest one just had to fall after the beautiful peaceful melody. It did get some laughter from the audience, and they were now definitely awake and ready for the next piece. I'm sure some people in the balcony could see what had happened, and that I did not actually drop the cymbal. It dropped itself; there was nothing I could do. I do apologize for my disruption, and perhaps I would even be embarrassed if it had been my fault. Actually, I find the whole thing really hilarious, and I've been enjoying telling people. It was a pretty perfect moment for it to fall. It wasn't in the middle of a piece and it gave me enough time to improvise and use the suspended cymbal with a drum stick instead. I'm sure that the director understood what had happened as soon as he collected the cymbals and saw a disconnected handle lying next to them. I certainly hope they let me back in next year. I really did have a lot of fun with everyone.