A Walk On The Creative Side

Back on my birthday in December, when I asked all of you to send me questions, I had no idea that it would take me so long to get them all answered. Life has intervened. I realize that it has been nearly a week since I last posted; another thing I never intended. I made a deal with myself that I would not skip more than a day, maybe two. Why did this happen? I have come to realize that when I am in a bad mood, I don't write. In fact, I really don't do anything that amounts to much.

In an effort to move myself from this not so happy place, I thought it might be good to answer the following question from Lynn.

As a creative person, you have no doubt produced many items due to your creative actions. Can you tell us about one moment of creation which gave you much joy, and describe enough about it for us to enjoy that experience with you?

This should have been fairly easy because by profession I am a musician, a career that is generally considered to be one of the creative arts. However, I engage in many other things that I also think address my creative side. As I searched the depths of my memory for a single moment that gave me much joy, I finally settled on the following. Truthfully, I surprised myself by focusing on a musical moment. This is not because I don't find music a creative endeavor, but because recently that is not where I see my creativity at work. So, the moment I am thinking of dates from the early 80's. Don't worry, my creative juices have been flowing over the past 25 years. It just happens that this moment from way back when is still very special to me.

As an undergraduate in school in North Carolina, I majored in music theory and composition. Though I had many wonderful composition professors, it was Dr. Henry, who taught electronic music composition, that I see as my true mentor as a young composer. Electronic music in 1982 was a whole different ballgame from that of today. My career as a composer of electronic music began in the analog era on a Moog synthesizer that required you to actually understand the physics of sound. Every parameter of every sound was made by creating a web of patch cords that controlled everything from the pitch to the amount of reverberation to rate of attack and decay. The many hours that I spent in the electronic music studio experimenting with the infinite possibilities are times that I will always treasure. The punching of buttons and moving of sliders of thedigital age of today is no comparison.

While I was still in school, the academic side of digital music was emerging. I feel really old saying this, but I was a practicing composer when the mainstream digital age was born. It was the composing of my first digital piece that sticks out in my mind as a most creative moment.

Early digital music assumed more familiarity with the intmate working of a computer than does digital musiv of today. Every note, with all of its parameters, had to be entered in hexadecimal code. The theorist in me loved the process almost as much as the final outcome. However, it is -the outcome here that is very special to me.

As music majors, much time, from the wee hours of the morning to the late hours of the night, was spent making music - alone in the practice room and in various ensembles with friends. Great friendships were formed when that much time is spent together and when you join together to make music. These were wonderful times. We were all young; we were all doing exactly what we wanted to be doing; we thought we were invincible.

This reality was shattered when during our senior year, one of my closests friends was diagnosed with a tumor, thankfully benign, on his kidney. The kidney had to be removed. At age 20 you don't expect this kind of thing to happen to your friends. Rusty played the saxophone. we all wondered, as did he, how long his recovery would be. Would he be able to give his senior recital? Would he graduate wuth us? Because youth doesn't really understand its own mortality, Rusty never saw any option other than that he would get better and life would go on as he had planned. And, it did. He was on track to give his recital and graduate with the rest of us.

One afternoon after he had had a saxophone lesson, he came to me and said that he had decided on the repetoire for his recital, except for the final piece. He then asked me if I would write that piece for him.. I was both flattered and terrified. I first asked if this was okay with his saxophone teacher and then asked if he was still taking mind altering drugs left from his surgery. He said yes to the first question and no to the second. After I calmed down, I told him that I would be honored to write a piece for him. I asked what he wanted and he said that he didn't care; he just wanted me to write something.

As I am sure you have realized by this point, I used the opportunty to put my newly acquired digital composition skills to the test. I wrote a piece for alto saxophone and computer entitled Permutaions. The title refers to the fact that the entire piece uses only six pitches though they are found in various octaves. For those of you that are musically inclined, you know that an octave contains twelve chromatic pitches. The fact that I used only six was a nod to the fact the Rusty was now living with half of his kidneys. Until this very moment, that was a secret known only to the two of us.

I must say that I was more nervous the night of his recital than I was on the night of my own. I also wrote a piece for my recital but the emotion behind it could not compare to that of Permutations. Because technology changed so quickly, the ability to perform this piece did not last very long. I suspect that is how it was supposed to be.

I'm not sure this counts as a "moment", but it is the event that comes to mind when thinking about Lynn's question. Thanks for making me take time to remember.

These days I do not take the time to compose much. I used to say that I didin't have the time to write music anymore. Really, I don't take the time. I still write short examples to use in my eartraining classes, but this definitely don't fall into the category of creativity. I find my creative self now being expressed through knitting and photography and writing (though many of you may disagree here) and cooking. I feel blessed that I have a number of creative outlets. When one road is blocked, I switch gears to find another that is open. This may not be the best approach, but it is effective for me. I have also come to realize that creativity is not reserved for "artists"; it is available to everyone and is applicable to any and every facet of our lives no matter how mundane the task at hand may seem.

Let me share one such moment. For eleven years, my kids attended a private school. It was not one of those ritcy private schools; they did not even have a cafeteria from which to serve hot lunches. So nearly every day for those eleven years, I packed lunches. For the most part I enjoyed doing so. But, there were those mornings when there was only one apple and two kids, or the peanut butter was all gone, or the sliced green pepper had joined the other side, or the worst possible scenario . . .the only bread left was the heels. Though I personally love the heels, neither of my children thought that a sandwich on the dregs of the bread loaf was acceptable. Enter creativity. If you spread the peanut butter and jelly on the outside of the heels and place them together on the inside of the sandwich, no one can tell that the sandwich is made on the heels. From the outside, the sandwich looks perfectly normal. You have to admit it beats sending the kid to school with Pop-tarts and potato chips for lunch! And when they go to therapy as adults, it will give them something to talk about.

Today my creative energies were focused on graphic design, an area where I have little knowledge and no expertise. The task was to create a poster for our church theater company's production of the musical Godspell. The catch here is that we can all see in our heads the poster for the Broadway production of this show. The problem is that we (the director) chose not to pay the liscensing fee to use that particular logo design so I had to create a completely new design, something that the public might associate with the show but different enough that it is not a violation of copyright. For me, this was not an easy task. Here is the final product.

I have two more of your questions to address and I think that can be done in a single post. I hope to do that over the weekend. Weber and Offspring #2, you have not been forgotten.

A Last Look At The City

On Monday morning, we all got up early and carried our packed bags down to the hotel lobby so that the concierge would look after them while we made a last quick trip into the city.

We rode the train to the World Trade Center stop. This was the best view of Ground Zero, which right now just looks like a busy construction zone. If you realize that the train station where we arrived used to be in the towers themselves, the magnitude of the 9/11 events can still be felt. If you never saw the World Trade Center, it is hard to imagine the great void that now exists.

We rode the escalator up to the street. I expected to see the large photographs and written tributes of the heroes from that day almost seven years ago. They were gone. All the memorabilia that lined the construction fences last June had been removed. Perhaps the city really has moved past that terrible day. I stood on the platform above the subway and took a picture of St. Paul's Chapel, the place that served as a haven of respite for those many days during the aftermath of 9/11.
When we visited New York in June, the chapel was still filled with pictures, gifts, letters, pieces of the 9/11 story. I wanted Liz and Gerald to see this place and feel all that was still therebut we were not able to go inside the building. I don't know if the chapel was closed for the holiday observance of MLK day or if they were preparing for a celebration that was to occur later in the day. Whatever the reason, we were unable to go inside. There is a part of me that fears that all the physical evidence of 9/11 is now gone. I admire NYC for being able to move forward, but there is still much healing that needs to happen. Having these tangible places where people could come to grieve and remember and touch the terror and then strive to move on is ian mportant process to growing stronger through those horrendous events. . Though it will mean always feeling at least a twinge of pain, I hope we never forget entirely..

We then took a quick trip to Central Park. The icy edged pond surrounded by the brown of winter was a marked contrast to the life that fills this areas in the summer.

I was surprised by the ducks that seem not to migrate.

A last look . . .
We then headed back to the hotel for our departure. After four wonderful days together, we all went our separate ways. Liz, Gerald and Erin headed back to Dallas where BK was waiting for them. Brooke went back to the negative temperatures in Chicago, and Mike and I made the five hour drive from New Jersey to northern Virginia for his sister's memorial service.

NYC: Day 3

In a state of grogginess, I reached for the remote and turned on the TV. It was strange to see the people screaming and waving from Rockefeller Center on the Today show knowing that if we had gotten our lazy butts up, we could have been there too. My guilty feeling disappeared at the moment I heard the newscaster announce that it was 19 degrees in the city and that the temperature would continue to fall throughout the day. My first inclination was to crawl back in bed and see if tomorrow was any warmer. If I had had my dogs to cuddle with, there would have been no discussion about this. Since they were at home, I got up.

I began putting on the layers - running tights under my jeans, several layers of shirts, a sweater, handknit wool socks and my cowboy boots. Then my "marshmallow" coat, gloves, hat, and my polar fleece scarf that I got on clearance at Old Navy for 99 cents the day before we left. I know, I should have had a handknit scarf, but we all know that there is no way, even if I were willing to use Red Heart yarn (and I'm not) that I could make one for 99 cents. This almost a dollar scarf may be the most important buy of my life. Rather pathetic, huh.

As we emerged from the warmth of the hotel into the frigid morning air, I waited for that moment when the wind hit me and all I could say was "damn , it's cold." Much to my surprise, I was plenty warm. Granted, we only had to walk about twenty steps to the train station, but the fact that we did not freeze in that little time was encouraging.

We really did not have a game plan for today. Should we see another show? Shop? Visit Central Park? Once we were off the train and began walking through the city, it became clear quickly that walking the streets just to sight see was a very cold and undesirable option. We voted unanimously to see an afternoon matinee. We already had tickets for the evening performance of Avenue Q.

We headed to TKTS. By the time we got there, cold was not strong enough to describe the temperature. Mike and Liz went to stand in line. Gerald, Erin and I had been assigned to make the Starbucks run. We all got hot drinks in the biggest cups possible - not because we were that thirsty, but because holding the steaming hot cups was the only way to keep our hands warm. The line for tickets was longer today than it had been yesterday and it was much colder. At the point Erin was about to be mistaken for an ice sculpture, Mike and Liz came with tickets to Rent, a show that we were all happy to see. We could not get tickets together but this didn't matter as long as the theater was heated.

An interesting aside: In Texas, where we have no idea what cold really is, the public buildings are always freezing during the winter months. In New York, where one assumes that the locals can tolerate cooler temperatures better than we southerners, the public buildings are incredibly warm. It is unbearable to wear a coat inside, especially if you have on four shirts, three pairs of pants, two pairs of socks, and a partridge in a pear tree. Somewhere along the way, I missed learning about the laws of thermostat regulation.

We had a nice lunch at a real restaurant and then headed to theater for a 2 pm show. This was an awesome performance. Rent is a powerful show that requires the emotional, as well as the physical energy levels of the actors to be at 110% for the entire show. The cast did not disappoint. The fact that we all knew all of the words to every song allowed us to dbe rawn in so quickly. It is hard to believe that Rent has been on Broadway for 14 years and that it will be closing in June.

As we were leaving the theater, Erin's fairy tale trip to the city got even better. She met the actor who played Mark.

And Tom Collins.
All of the actors that we met were so talented and friendly as well. Though I'm sure they were tired and wanted to be someplace warm before they had to return for their evening call, they took time to chat and take pictures with members of the audience.

We had a few hours before Avenue Q. We did a little souvenir shopping and again found warmth in a Starbucks cup. Then we were off to the show.

This was the moment I had been waiting for. I had hoped to see this show when we were in the city over the summer, but during the only slot we had to see an extra show, Avenue Q was dark. This is another show to which we all know all the words, even the dirty ones! I sat mesmerized from the first note of the overture to the last note of the finale. What an amazing piece of art. The actors were taxed nearly to their acting limits and the audiences was forced to really think. During this show I realized that I no longer can look at a show purely as entertainment. I see everything now through the eyes of a techie. This is not all bad; it just makes for a different experience.

Again we headed to Ellen's Diner. Erin and Gerald were still looking for eligible guys.

High on all of the day's experiences, at nearly 11 we headed back to the hotel. Though our flights were not leaving until the late afternoon on Moday, we had to have out bags packed first thing in the morning so that we could check out of our rooms. It was hard to believe that the fun was coming to end so soon.

NYC: Day 2

After our rather late night on Friday, we opted to not begin Saturday at the crack of dawn. We all got a good night's sleep and were ready to tackle the new day. Our hotel was on the New Jersey side so we headed to the train to take us into the city. After a change to the subway for a short ride, we emerged from the train in the midst of Times Square. Watching the expression on Gerald's face was like watching that of a small child on Christmas morning. Even at 11 in the morning, the city is bustling. We had decided to go to TKTS to get matinee tickets. At the suggestion of a friend, our first choice was Spelling Bee. Without a long wait in line, we were able to get six tickets together for the afternoon performance. Though we were all well caffeinated having visited Starbuck's, the consensus was that a real meal was a must before we headed to the theater. I firmly believe that a hot dog from a street vendor is a "must do" in the city; however, the vegan amongst us nixed this as a lunch idea. Instead we opted for a small cafe that had a nice selection for both carnivores and herbivores. Carnegie Deli had been an option we entertained, but the lined stretched out the door and down the street. None of us wanted salami that badly!

After finishing lunch, we took a leisurely walk to the theater. We knew that for the performance of Spelling Bee, they chose four members of the audience to participate on stage. Erin was determined to be one of the four. She got in line and answered the few questions that were part of the screening process. One of the questions was, "Are you a good speller?" She answered, "Yes." As it turned out, that was the wrong answer. She was not chosen to appear on stage. After seeing the show, it became clear that tenuous spelling made for a better resume. Nonetheless, the show was amazing. This was a great first Broadway experience for Liz and Gerald. At one point during the performance, a member of the cast asked the members of the audience who we planned to vote for in the upcoming presidential election. Our row was the only vocal row in the theater. Nobody booed us or threatened to beat us up so I guess our choice was acceptable.

After the show, we walked and walked and walked around the city. Brooke and Mike visited a comic book store and the rest of us went to the Drama Book Shop, a shop that is wall to wall scripts. Very cool! We had agreed to meet on a corner by the street vendor selling those awesome pretzels; you know the ones. Of course we indulged! After our snack it was on to 5th Avenue for some shopping.

Erin was on a quest to find a very specific style of boots that had eluded her in Dallas. She looked in what seemed like twenty shoe stores (I'm sure this is a slight exaggeration) with no success. Her shopping experience left her empty handed but her wallet was still full. As we made our way back to Broadway for a planned dinner at Ellen's Stardust Diner, Gerald and Erin took a few minutes to ride the Merry-Go-Round along the way.

I was happy to see them smiling. Brooke and Mike were party poopers. They parked themselves on a bench and muttered about how ridiculous it was that these two were acting so juvenile. To me, letting go and doing something a little silly is a sign that one is able to find joy in life. What do I know?

The diner where we ate dinner is one in which all of the wait staff are aspiring actors and actresses. In addition to waiting tables, they also perform live, singing a mix of pop, country, and show tunes. Gerald spent the entire meal flirting with our waiter. Somewhere there is a picture of Gerald and poor Justin the waiter, but it does not seem to be on my camera. I guess it is on Gerald's camera. He may have already taken it to Kinkos to have it blown up to poster-size! Thank goodness Justin was a really good sport!

After dinner, which ended with a little disappointment for Erin because they had no more strawberry shortcake (I think Erin only wanted dessert so that we could stay longer and she too could flirt with the waiter. Someone here definitely was going to be disappointed!), we made our way to the subway to begin our trip back to the hotel.

As we stood on the platform waiting for the train, I noticed Erin staring at a group of people standing slightly behind us. Her fixed look also caught Gerald's attention. Erin said that the girl in the group looked like Logan, one of the characters in Spelling Bee. At that point we all turned to look. Standing there with us were indeed three members of the cast that we had seen perform earlier in the day. Not being shy, we asked for pictures and autographs. They were all friendly and willing to oblige us. While waiting for the train we talked with them about the outrageous price of Broadway show tickets. They told us that their friends could not afford to buy tickets to come see their performances. They also said that life on the Broadway stage was no where near as glamorous as we might think. As our train approached and we all prepared to go our separate ways, they asked us, "So, which candidate do you support?" We allowed as to how we were the ones who responded loudly during the performance. We went our separate ways in solidarity.

We had a great day - great show, good food, a little shopping, and one of a kind friends.

Here is a look at the city at night.

New York Trip: Day 1

As often is the case, I waited until the last minute to pack for this trip. Most often I do okay with this method except that for going to New York I needed warmer clothes than we ever need in Texas and I also needed to take appropriate clothes for Mike's sister's memorial service on Tuesday. I thought I had done pretty well. Erin and I left the house and were on our way to pick up Liz and Gerald, who were travelling with us. BK ran down the list of necessities; the only thing I had forgotten was my toothbrush. That was no big deal. I was sure I could buy one in the airport for somewhere between $10 and $20.

We made our way to DFW in no time at all. By 10;15 am we were checked in and at the gate for our 11:30 flight. Life was looking good . . .until about 10:30 when they announced that our flight had been cancelled. At the same time that the American Airlines representative was sharing this information in her most pleasant "don't kill the messenger voice", my phone was ringing. Mike was calling to tell us that he had just gotten the message from the airlines. (Just as an aside, when I got home tonight, there was also a message from American Airlines saying that our flight was cancelled. It was left at 10:35 am for an 11:30 flight. Does the airlines not remember that they require you to check in an hour before deoarture? This message was a bit misplaced.) The gate representative was telling us that we needed to get in line to reschedule. Fortunately, Mike had made our reservations through the Advantage desk and they had automatically re-booked us . . .on a flight that departed at 5:45 pm. We now had seven hours with which to amuse ourselves in the airport. Fortunately, I find airports to be frather ascinating places.

Though we were already re-booked, I still had to stand in line to get our boarding passes for the new flight. In line, I was behind a woman on her way to see her son who was having surgery the next day. He is a soldier who was injured in Iraq. As you might expect with a line of 75 people or so, progress was slow and we had quite a bit of time to talk. She told me that her son had come home on the Friday before Christmas for what he thought was six months. When he arrived back in the U.S., he was informed that he would be deploying again on the 26th. Six months, six days; its all the same to the government. He was allowed to visit his family for Christmas but only if he loaded all of his belongings on the plane heading back to Iraq before he left. I'm not sure how long after he returned that he was injured. He sustained a non-life threatening injury to his shoulder and was now home for medical attention. His mother was unsure how long this soldier would be home before he was sent back. This was his third tour in Iraq. She was confident that he was not home for good.

I didn't really know what to say to this woman. I told her that I would keep her and her son and all those fighting in Iraq in my prayers. At the moment the words came out of my mouth, I found myself wondering if there is any comfort or hope in them for her.

We both made our way to the front of the line, received our new boarding passes, and headed to our new respective gates. We were now departing from a different terminal so we had an adventure on the Skylink.

Knowing that we had much time to kill, we found a spot with an electrical outlet so that Erin and Gerald could watch a move on my computer and so that our Ipods and cell phones could be charged before we got on the plane. At this point, I began to realize my packing shortfalls.

I did pack my computer and the power cord except that the cord I brought was the old one that the dogs had chewed and thus no longer worked. I had replaced it, but the new one was in "the other bag"; no movies. I also discovered that I had packed the wall plug for my Ipod, but I had forgotten the USB cable to attach the plug and the actual Ipod. This was a minor screw up because either Mike or Brooke would have a cable that I could use once we all rendez-voused. And, unlike my computer, my Ipod was fully charged when I left home.

So we all settled into our little corner that would be home for many hours. Gerald did his homework. Liz read. I knit. Erin tried to beat CSI on her Nintendo DS. All was well for about an hour and a half at which point, Gerald and Erin got bored. What better to do in the face of boredom than sleep. They piled themselves up and had a respectable nap.

The big red blob is Erin trying to keep warm next to Gerald. Like most children, when they woke from their nap they were hungry so we made our way to Fridays for some lunch. On our way through the terminal, we noticed that our departure gate had been changed. This was no big surprise.

For all but Erin, lunch was good. She wanted chips and queso. When she ordered, the waiter told her that they did not have queso. At first I think that she thought he was teasing her. When she responded with a disgusted, "Seriously?", he apologized saying that the airport locations do not carry the full menu. It is understandable that they may not serve ribeyes or lobster, but queso? Go figure. After our leisurely meal, we again checked the monitors for our gate assignment. Imagine our surprise (not) when we saw that it again had been changed. We made our way to yet another gate; one at the opposite end of the terminal from where we had started.

The gate area was packed with people waiting for a flight that was departing before ours. Mind you at this point it is only 3:30 or so. We seated ourselves across from a family with two small children who were obviously very tired. Ascwe shared traavel woes, it was clear that theirs were definitely worse than ours. Their day had begun on a 6:30 am flight from California. After a brief layover in Dallas, they were to head for Orlando. They had actually boarded and been deplaned from two different planes for the final leg of the trip already. The first plane had pressurization problems and the second one was having problems being de-iced. At the point we were talking to them, the airline was "looking for equipment." I don't know how their saga ended because our gate again changed and we were on the move.

At 5:15 we finally boarded the plane and at 5:45 we were in the air and on our way. The only problem with our flight was that because of the re-booking, the four of us travelling together were not able to sit together. This really was not a big deal. By this point, we were all ready to be sitting in one place and making progress to NYC.

Mike met us at the airport and shuttled the four of us back to the hotel. He then turned around and went back to the airport to pick up Brooke who was flying in from Chicago on a flight that also was delayed but only about thirty minutes. She arrived shortly after 11 pm.

While Mike was playing airport shuttle, the rest of us ordered massive amounts of Chinese takeout from the only nearby restaurant that was still delivering. At midnight, we had all finally made it to the hotel and were stuffing our faces with mediocre Chinese food and thankful that we were all finally in one place together. We set a meeting time of 9;30 am the next morning and headed to bed for good night's sleep.

To be continued . . .

Technical Difficulties

Due to various technical difficulties, the NYC Travelogue will not be posted until I return home.  It will run it its entirety beginning Tuesday night.  Complete text and photos will be included.

Thanks for your patience.  Tune in again Tuesday.

Planes, Trains, And Automobiles

First let me apologize for having not answered all of the questions that you guys posed to me. I promise that I will respond to each one and the prizes will be awarded. Right now, life around here has gotten a little crazy.

We are all back in school; soccer season has started; and, the ever-present rehearsal schedule continues. We are having one last Christmas fling over this long MLK weekend. This time tomorrow we will be in New York City. Hopefully TKTS will be good to us and we we'll have a great weekend of Broadway shows. Perhaps a little snow will fall on us as well.

The trip became a bit complicated when Mike's sister passed away earlier this week. He and I will be gone an extra day to attend the memorial service in northern Virginia before flying home Tuesday night. Because of school commitments, the girls will each return to their respective locations Monday evening. It has proven to be more difficult than we thought to get from New York to Washington D.C. As of this moment, we will be travelling by train for this leg of the journey. I have not ridden a train in this country since I was an undergraduate twenty five years ago. Riding the rails will be a bit of a treat.

I hope to be able to post while we are away. If not, I will definitely return on Wednesday.

Thanks to each of you for your continued interest and support.