You know how you can be standing there minding your own business, and a harp suddenly comes out of nowhere and grabs you? I didn’t, but I do now.
Once a upon a time (last week actually), I was assisting a harp-shopping student of mine by visiting harp shops* and playing as many harps as possible for her. The variety of sound quality in harps is unbelievable. Even two harps made at the same time with identical design can sound different, as you can see in this video. (Close your eyes when you listen; test your ears!) Harps are like snowflakes, no two alike.
As we began to narrow down the kind of harp my student liked best, I took note of an old pedal harp off to the side and sat down to play it out of curiosity. Oh. My. What a sound. Too bad my student was not seeking a harp like this. I took a short video to post on my Facebook page (scroll to July 13, 2016, recorded at Enchanted Harp) and moved on. Or tried to.
This is the part where I was abducted, blindfolded, and taken to a secret location to be tortured with gorgeous sounds until they finally broke me and I wrote a check… Okay, not quite. But I could not get the harp out of my mind. We took a second trip to that shop to test another harp a few days later, where further torture occurred. A third visit to the shop and I succumbed.
My new harp, the harp I didn’t need, the classically carved harp I never expected to own, the harp that wouldn’t take no for an answer, is a Lyon & Healy Style 17, built in 1952.
At age 64, she is an antique in the harp world. Unlike many other instruments, harps get better and better for about 100 years, and then they explode. Seriously, unless the harpist removes the strings or replaces major components of the harp a la George Washington’s Axe, the body of a harp cannot survive the 2,000 lbs of tension from the strings much longer than that. But having consulted a harp restoration company with photos and their checklist, it looks like I will remain captive for many years to come.
Lyon & Healy Style 17, at The Enchanted Harp in Puyallup WA
The thing is, I don’t have an inferiority complex or social awkwardness, or any of the usual excuses for being camera shy with regard to playing harp. I just get so distracted from music when a camera is around. Why?
It may be that my amateur-photographer mother insisted on full smiles and total cooperation from her four children as she snapped away on her Graflex. We were polished, posed, and portrayed, her four little angels of photographic perfection.
There was little resistance. My brother stuck out his tongue in a couple of shots (mild enough to be adorable rather than mutinous), and in one glorious instance my oldest sister leaped in front of the camera just as my other sister and I were to be immortalized in our Halloween costumes. We were hobos. Oh, the irony.
“Okay. Now lean in and pretend to whisper… Nooooo! Laura!!!!”
Then there is the pinky thing. When I was 12, there was an accident involving my left hand, a gold fish bowl I was cleaning in the back yard, and a bit a concrete. Eight stitches and a monstrously bandaged month later, I was left with a pinky refugee, never to return normally to its sisters. It won’t fold flat, it won’t go where I want it to go, and (yes, I know that only I and a handful of other harpists would notice) it doesn’t do Good Hand Position at the harp, preferring instead to curl up as if I’m sipping tea at a bloody cotillion. Normally I don’t think of it much, but put a camera in front of me and The Voice of Dysfunction whispers in my ear, “cream or sugar?”
So, for whatever reasons, I have never been comfortable playing music with a camera on me. But I am determined to overcome! I may never be able to smile perfectly (or even speak) while playing, but I will make more YouTube videos!
How? Snippets! For the past few weeks I have been recording small portions or shortened versions of songs on the harp as a sort of conditioning therapy. I am calling them “Saturday Snippets” because I have a weakness for cutesy alliteration. I have been posting them on my Facebook page rather than YouTube; I suppose it seems less exposed. After all, the snippets are not always my best work. And it’s just me, my harps and an iPhone. There are little mistakes, the cat starts meowing, my pinky goes out for tea… Nothing polished. Sorry, Mom.
But it’s a start. And I really think it’s helping.
I am sometimes asked, “Why do harpists charge more for a wedding than they do for background music if they are doing the same thing? Playing harp is playing harp, regardless of where you are, right?”
Well, first let me say thank you. If it seems like I’m playing the exact same way at your wedding as I would in my own living room, then I am doing my job well.
Still, although it seems like I am doing the same thing in each performance, the fact is that you are not getting the same thing in a wedding as in a background music situation. My extra hours of preparation and decades of experience make it possible for me to perform through stressful situations and still play well and keep my head.
First, there is the simple truth that it is generally harder to perform a skilled task when one is being watched. It’s true that one also gets somewhat of a boost from being watched: that adrenaline-spiked “magic of concert day” so to speak. But even that boost is dependent on the performer’s level of experience. A less experienced harpist or a student may not get a boost at all, but rather a case of shakes. Or even a fainting spell. (That actually happened to me in a high school play.) It simply takes greater experience to deliver a solid performance under a spotlight.
Second, things can go wrong. Things do go wrong. A novice who is quite adept playing background music at your birthday party, may come apart completely if she is seated at the front of a church full of staring people, or if your bridesmaid’s silk flower bouquet catches fire during your ceremony (that has happened) or if the harpist suddenly cannot see what is going on because your videographer just planted himself in front of the harp during your processional (that happened more than once). An experienced harpist will not come apart just because the situation does. But her fees will reflect the costs of Grace Under Pressure.
Think of it this way. One thing you are paying for is the raw skill of plucking harp strings to produce music. Then add “points” for various aspects of performance that require more experience: pressure of being in the spotlight; pressure from the magnitude or importance of the event; nature of the audience (is it your book group or will the Governor be there?); and potential for glitches (weddings nearly always have them).
Myself, I have limits. I have played for a Governor, and a Mayor too. And my beloved harp teacher always told me I could do anything I set my sights on, bless her. But I have turned down a few opportunties because they seemed beyond my self confidence or abilities.
What I want to convey is that playing harp is not just playing harp. All performance situations present some level of psychological challenge. We harpists have paid with our lives to meet those challenges. Literally our lives, because playing the harp well under pressure is never a side hobby.
Why do we charge more for a wedding than a cocktail hour? Because we are giving you not just our time at your event, but all the years that came before.
This post goes out to my sisters, my cousins, my daughter, and my female friends, and to the men who care about them. And as often happens, this post has nothing to do with playing the harp. Recently I found a new podcast that I like (The Model Health Show), but it has dumped a big ol’ paradigm shift on me. I have to catch up on episodes because the podcast has been around a while so I’ve been picking an episode here and there. TMHS #003 (The Truth About Breast Cancer) and #021 (Dressed to Kill) have got my head spinning.
I already knew that the “cancer care” field is a multi-billion dollar industry that may not have very strong motivation to put itself out of a job. I already knew that cancer prevention will never be given the grant dollars that the lucrative cancer drug and treatment ventures receive. But oh, what I didn’t know! Enter the podcasts. Here are just a few of the omg moments:
Only about 5% of cancers occur because of genetic causes. 95% are caused by environment and lifestyle. Having a genetic marker for cancer is not a death sentence.
Everyone has cancer cells in their bodies all the time. It is normal. Our biology has a system for getting rid of them. We either overload or sabotage the system, hence the disease.
The lymphatic system (crucial to cancer prevention) does not have a pump, like the circulatory system has the heart. It relies on the free flow of lymph (no constricting clothing) and the movement of the body to do its job.
Among bra-free women, breast cancer rates are about the same as they are in men. In other words, minuscule! (The Fred Hutchinson cancer’s study citing no connection between bras and cancer did not include any non-bra wearers in the study. Looks like a smoking/cancer study that doesn’t include non-smokers.)
Which brings me to… bras. Most women in our culture wear a bra. We don’t want to “sag.” We don’t want to bounce and “have stuff show.” We don’t want men staring at our torsos and forgetting we have heads. We are not all charismatic, trend-setting Kate Hudson. We are not all brave.
Questions and choices dance a ring around me right now. Is this truly like the situation of corsets, which were terribly unhealthy for women but nevertheless worn for hundreds of years? Did the women who first said “no” to corsets feel afraid? Would ditching my bra make me feel like one of those human advertisements, a person in a pizza outfit jumping around on the corner, only my outfit would be a giant boob? And most vexing of all… having grown up in that 60s pre-women’s-lib era where men could slap women on the behind with impunity, having seen the most prurient side of men, having the suspicion that any image of a female breast will stop most men in their tracks and turn off their brains… what oh what do I advise my daughter to wear?
I hate reading/hearing anything about cancer because, like most people, it scares me. Both of my parents had cancer, and one died from it. We all know someone who has it, or who died from it, or who has had a “cancer scare.” But I am fanatically proactive about my health, and I do not want to live in fear. Is this the choice then: fear of cancer or fear of body exposure? (For further exploration.)
In no particular order, here are some “ingredients for success” I have found useful for harp students. What is “success” at the harp? It means having the music you want to play within your reach and making your musical dreams a reality.
1. Productive habits. How you practice, when you practice, tuning all your strings every day, breaking new pieces into manageable sections… these are the sorts of small elements that will make a huge difference in your work. Your teacher will give you suggestions about practice methods; do not turn them down unless you have proof that a different method is superior for you.
2. Listening to a lot of music. The difference between you and a programmed, synthesized harp machine is musical expression. Having a lot of music in your life enhances your ability to convey emotions, sound textures and colors through your playing, to conjure mental pictures for your listener, and even to simply have good pitch and rhythm.
3. Sight reading, aka knowing written rhythms and notes. Duh. No, not duh! Many students find themselves stuck with a limited repertoire or a stale learning style because they are not proficient sight readers. Always keep in mind that sight reading is a continuum, not a destination. Any progress you make in note and rhythm recognition will be very helpful and beneficial. Never compare yourself to others; just keep moving forward. Become adept at clapping difficult rhythms. (I recommend what we fondly call “the drummer dude book” for practice if you don’t have a lot of sheet music around.) For note reading practice, set a metronome at a slow beat, get out some sheet music, and — starting at the bottom-most note of each beat and moving vertically through all the notes that occur on that beat (including both bass and treble clefs) — name each note aloud on each beat of the metronome.
4. Balance in your life. Work hard — because harp is a difficult instrument to play well — but when you go on vacation leave the harp at home. When harp has been physically strenuous, read a book. When harp has been mentally taxing, go for a walk. When you have been shut up practicing too long, call a friend. It is just as detrimental to overwork yourself as it is to slack off. I love using a practice log because students can clock the hours they need and then enjoy the rest of their day without feeling guilt and stress over imperfection. Consistent practice is like regularly putting money in the bank. It adds up quickly.
5. Good physical technique. There are several methods for harp that use different hand positions. I will not even contemplate saying one is “best,” though there is only one technique I personally teach. (The one I know of course.) Whichever technique you are learning, commit yourself to it and work hard to master it. Good technique makes you agile and ready to tackle hard music. Focus completely on technique when you have exercises or etudes so that hand position will be automatic when you play your “real” music and your mind is busy with non-technique issues. Avoid “too cool for school” thinking; good hand position is the means to an end, and you do need it to advance.
6. Knowing what kind of music you really love. When you are learning harp, your teacher will give you pieces that teach specific skills and move you through a planned progression. But whenever there is a choice of music you should be very aware of what you want. We don’t have to specialize to the exclusion all other genres. Rather we need to have a focal point, a calling. Choose to do a few things well. With music, if you close some doors you can usually open them again later if you change your mind.
7. The best instrument you can afford. I just cannot stress this enough: don’t buy a cheap harp. With harps, you get what you pay for. (And a more expensive harp will hold its resale value better if your circumstances change.) Furthermore, identify the harp tone you like best. Harps differ enormously in tone, depending on so many factors. Listen to a lot of harps! Watch YouTube, attend harp concerts and AHS meetings, visit any harp stores you can, and if possible go to the mother of all harp retail venues: the expo of a major harp conference. Finally, if you must choose between two or more harps whose sound you’re sure you’d be happy with — I’m going to say it — buy the “pretty” one. Seriously. This is going to be a great big object in your living space, and its beauty should fill your heart with joy. If you currently own a harp but are unhappy with the tone, get a better one and sell the old harp. This isn’t the Great Depression. Stop feeling guilty, save up your money, and upgrade. In order to reach your goals, you must have a harp you love. [Note: if you are buying a used harp with no warranty, ask your teacher or an experienced harp player to look at it with you.]
8. Support. If you are under 20, positive input and involvement from a parent is crucial. For adult students, anyone living with you can be a help or a hindrance when practice time comes along. Work out any issues, and express your gratitude sincerely and frequently.
9. Audience. Wait! Don’t run away. “Audience” just means you are playing your best — with no stop-and-do-overs — with the distraction of being heard and yes, judged, by a sentient being other than your cat. For the shy among us, audience can mean a recording or video of yourself, onlyfor yourself. Whether you choose to record yourself, invite the neighbors over, or book yourself at the local nursing home, having an audience will provide tremendous benefits. You will learn so much about your piece and yourself. You will have an opportunity to really express yourself musically. And the practice leading up to your performance will have more meaning and motivation.
10. Variety. Although I believe in having an established practice routine, we need variety to prevent staleness. Think of ways to spice up your practice time. You could have one “sight-reading day” each week to look at new music, move the harp to different locations in your home, or play pieces in different octaves than usual. Or, you could take a piece you know well and write out the chord progression so that you can improvise a musical bridge between repeats. For ear training, try to play along with a favorite CD: either pick out the melody, or try to play the backup chords.
I hope you will find this list helpful. Even if you are only learning harp as a relaxing hobby and have no intention of sharing it outside your home, you will get so much more personal benefit from playing well. Having harp in your life should be worth the time and expense, both of which are unavoidable — unless your harp is only serving to adorn your living room. Dig deeper and find gold!
Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional and nothing in this blog is intended as medical advice. The following information is autobiographical. The pronoun “you” is employed as a narrative tool to express my own experience. I do not claim to know the cause of others’ pain nor the remedy others should pursue. I do not mean this post as a denial of the reader’s personal medical situation. Although I hope that someone will find guidance by reading my story, I do not believe my experience can be applied to everyone.
Starting in 1996, I was in pain every day for 7 long years. I saw many doctors and tried many treatments. Back pain, hip pain, and foot pain took turns ruling my life, except when they all popped up at once. Occasionally other body parts chimed in. The shifting cloud of diagnoses that hung over me included IT Band injury, Neuroma, Greater Trocanteric Bursitis, Shin splints, Metatarsalgia, Sacroiliac joint dysfunction, and Degenerative Disc Disease. Today I just call it Tension Myositis Syndrome (TMS).
I give credit for my discovery of TMS to Jeff Galloway, whom I met at his Tahoe running camp in 2003. I was a bit of a mess. Galloway listened with earnest sympathy. Then he said, “There is a book you might want to read.” (Healing Back Pain by Dr. John E. Sarno.) He would not tell me more, and now I completely know why. No one talks about TMS. TMS is “weird.” It makes people edge away.
Having been pain-free for so many years, it is hard to dig up this story and retell it. So hard that I’ve been trying to make myself write this for over a year. But a lot of people suffer needlessly, and I am sitting on a story with a truly happy ending. Perhaps what I learned will help someone, so here are some things I know about TMS:
1. Your brain can open or close capillaries in response to psychological events. We all know that an embarrassing thought can lead to blushing. Likewise, your brain can repress an undesirable emotion by distracting you with pain. The mechanism used is the same one as for blushing: the autonomic nervous system.
2. Certain kinds of people get TMS more often than others. Typical TMS sufferers are conscientious, hard working, and “good.” Of course you can be all those things without TMS, but TMS finds good people like bees find flowers. Deep inside our minds, being good means “no anger allowed,” which causes repression. Anxiety, frustration and fear are also candidates for repression, but anger is the least tolerated emotion from our earliest age. (More about that in a moment.) Repression of negative emotions is the reason TMS exists. Some other typical tendencies and experiences of TMS victims include: child abuse or childhood trauma, perfectionism (by which I mean having an attitude of “the right way, or not at all”), driven work ethic, overly generous, and seeking of approval.
3. TMS hops around. One body part hurts, but then a different one hurts. If you are seeking treatment or going through some physical therapy, it can feel like some kind of whack-a-mole game. But this tell-tale shift in location helps you spot TMS and distinguish it from physical injury.
4. TMS does not produce physical evidence other than pain and does not heal with time. True physical injuries produce redness, swelling, bruising, inflammation and other physical evidence. And then they heal with time. A broken femur will heal in 6 weeks and be stronger at the break point than ever before. (A corollary of this point is that cold packs will make a true physical injury feel better but will aggravate TMS. The capillaries don’t need another excuse to stay constricted!)
5. Resting a TMS “injury” does not heal it, but movement and resuming regular activity does. In the early stages of my “cure” period, one way I knew a pain was TMS was that resting for a day or two made no difference. The part of your brain that is masterminding the disability must be told: No more. I’m not buying it. I’m going to stand, bend, run, whatever. Most importantly, I’m going to think that thought, remember and that dreadful thing that happened, or look that demon in the eye. The cure for TMS is a mental process. Without its mission of distracting you, TMS loses its reason for being and vanishes.
6. TMS is open to suggestions. A while back, everyone had Tennis Elbow. Years later lots of people wore little wrist braces for Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. More recently I have heard a lot of people suffer from Plantar Fasciitis. I am not saying those diagnoses are invalid. I am saying that my experience with pain included new pains popping up when I heard about other people’s pains. I often wonder if TMS is to blame for what appear to be injury “fads.”
7. TMS is stupid. Let’s just anthropomorphize TMS for a second while we imagine him sitting up there in the control room saying, “Uh-oh. We’ve got an Unthinkable coming in. What have we got? Foot pain! You’re up! Get in there!” And you happening to be running so you figure, “My foot is injured! Oh no!” But the next day you run with a friend and chat about life and feel great. That night, the pain comes back while you are just sitting around watching a movie. TMS doesn’t know that it should only use that one while running, and always while running. So the pain comes and goes without rhyme or reason. TMS wants to fool you to make the distraction work, but isn’t clever enough to follow the activity. It follows the thoughts. So why do we believe it? Because we live in a culture of injury. It is considered normal to get injured. We may be horrified at the sudden pain, but we are not surprised. The statistics on running injuries alone are astounding. The species that lived for millennia by their legs and their wits alone cannot be so fragile.
8. TMS relies on a part of your mind that is sometimes called Child Primitive. It is a bit like your inner child, only way more “inner” and way more destructive. Child Primitive can generate of lot of anger that the adult You must repress. Do you get pain right before an important event? Or perhaps pain upon waking up to face a new day? Child Primitive is rolling on the ground in full tantrum mode: “I don’t want to go! I don’t want to have my worth/skills/strength (insert one) tested! I hate this job! I hate having no power!” TMS may put Child Primitive in a time out, but she is still there, raging.
9. You do not have to solve one single problem in your life to get rid of TMS. TMS is not about being a happy person. It is not even about stress, though it certainly appears that way sometimes. TMS is about distraction. Curing TMS is about thinking the unthinkable. “Whoa. What was I just thinking about when that spasm of pain came on?” I asked myself and answered that question many times until “poof.” No more pain. It was that simple. Not easy, but simple. Here is more good news: sometimes you do not even need to get a mental grip on the thing Child Primitive is raging about. It is repressed and often hard to find. Sometimes you only have to allow your mind to “think rage.” Free floating rage. Like joy and love, it spreads to where it needs to go.
10. The single most difficult thing to do with TMS is to take this leap of faith: the pain really is TMS and you really can get up and resume physical activity. The only way I could do this was to start with the psychological work. When I saw myself described to a T in the aforementioned book, and when I felt less pain just by concentrating on emotional issues, I took the next step and went for a run. Things were going well until a seemingly innocent thought flitted across my consciousness and I was instantly in pain again. But that just helped me know that I was on the right track. Psychological, not physical. And believe me, once you see that the wizard is just a man behind a curtain you are ten times harder to fool again. Within two weeks I was living pain free for the first time in years.
11. TMS is not “all in your head.” It is real, physical pain. But nothing is “broken.” Like a headache or menstrual cramps, it can hurt like hell without any physical injury present.
12. TMS loves props. TMS wants your attention focused on physical disability so it can do its job: to repress The Unthinkable. I had heel lifts, back cushions, cortisol shots, special ice packs to put on my hip, special pillows for my car, my chair, my bed… Physical aids, doctor appointments, and therapy exercises keep your mind far away from the real cause, and keep TMS going.
13. TMS is trying to help. This seemingly sadistic mechanism is meant to protect you. The need to protect you begins in early childhood. All small children have an involuntary reaction to their parents’ displeasure, dating back to the dawn of humankind: it is the species-preserving concept that rejection from my parents equals death. What good brain wouldn’t work on an early prevention plan for that? When you were about 3 years old and felt fear, did your parents praise your smarts for being afraid of potential danger or did they deny your reaction with “nothing’s wrong, go to sleep”? When you were very angry, did your parents say, “Good job! When I see those Cheerios all over the floor I am so glad that you are fully experiencing your emotions!” Small children express emotions with actions more than words — unacceptable actions. Thus they learn that certain emotions are dangerous, and their wondrous brains learn to protect them.
14. TMS can catch a ride on the back of a true injury. This particular characteristic is not something I personally experienced, but heard about from others. The sufferers had a “real” injury that seemed to heal, and much later started hurting again. In these cases, it seems TMS just found a nice, believable story to tell them.
15. TMS will gladly cooperate with your doctor. (And vice versa.) When people are in pain, doctors must come up with a diagnosis and a recommended course of action. TMS loves this validated focus on the physical. If you don’t respond to PT or cortisol or whatever therapy is recommended, another is tried. There is no null hypothesis in this game, no possible proof of falsehood in the assertion that “where there is pain there is injury or illness.” And so we continue to pour our money and our hopes into physical remedies. Over 70% of back surgeries fail to provide relief. But they continue to be performed. Blood letting was practiced for 3,000 years before people would admit that doctors were hurting people.
16. When someone discovers that all their suffering has come from TMS, it is extremely embarrassing to tell people that you are suddenly OK. I made so many drastic life changes because of the pain I was in, and I shared it with so many people. Then I was pain free, seemingly overnight. Friends who saw me limping just last week would ask me how I was doing. Telling someone you have a running injury is a whole lot easier than telling people, “my pain was caused by repressed negative emotions but now that I’m facing my inner rage over childhood trauma, things are really looking up!” Not exactly the kind of thing you want to put in your annual Christmas letter.
Am I really cured of TMS? Yes, with a “but.” I am completely free of chronic pain. I live an active life. I have trained for and run 22 marathons without injury. Nor do I worry about injury. I lift heavy objects without bending my knees, I run as far as I want to in minimalist shoes that are far beyond their recommended mileage limit, and I practice my harp or knit for hours with nary a thought about tendonitis. But… every now and then when a particular kind event comes into my life, I can feel my TMS trying to “trigger” a pain in one of my old familiar spots. My happy ending is that I now can easily detect and stop TMS. It takes less than a minute. Far from being the Great and Powerful Oz, or even a simple man behind a curtain, TMS has become more like a naughty cat trying to get the food cupboard open.
Recommended reading: Healing Back Pain by Dr. John E. Sarno. He has written a number of books but that one remains my favorite. And you can insert any body part name instead of “back” – it’s all the same to TMS.
2/1/2017 Update: There is a new voice in this field, and I couldn’t be happier that TMS is still being studied and addressed. Please visit Dr. David Hanscom’s site: www.backincontrol.com His book is the same title as his website, Back In Control (which I think is an absolutely brilliant book title for this subject if you think about it).
June 2017 updates: First, the great Dr. Sarno has passed away at the age of 93. His work in the field of mind-body medicine shows what a huge difference one person can make in the world. Thank you, Dr. Sarno, and rest in peace. Second, a documentary has been made about Dr. Sarno’s work, the trailer is here.
I miss photo albums. I miss those envelopes with the photos in front and the negatives in back. Sigh.
No, I don’t want to go back to where paper was the only option. I like deleting with a single key stroke those pictures that make me look fat. I like holding a thousand memories on a single page I can scroll through. I’m talking about a nostalgic feeling for a time when “scroll” meant something about Egyptians.
Years ago I decided that photo albums were for suckers (so overpriced) and started putting pictures in shoebox-like “photo-boxes”, where they subsequently languished. After my recent move, I vowed to go through my photo boxes and at least make them easier to peruse and enjoy. (That is code for: get them out of the damn envelopes, line them up in those boxes in such a way that they can be flipped through, and put the negatives into storage. Honestly, if I haven’t searched for a negative in 25 years, will I ever?) This process has unearthed some lovely gems, but also a few mysteries.
For example, behold a charming scene featuring myself and my adorable siblings. And on the left side of the photo (all on one piece of card stock)… Mrs. Rohrbach? Our terrifying school principal? NOOO! Why??
Let us move beyond this disturbing apparition to a picture that warms my heart. This is my mother (right) with her niece and best friend, circa 1931. My mother lived with her sister’s family for several years during the Depression. This resulted in her not starving to death.
Never fear. When a photograph begins to pull you down, there is sure to be another that lifts you up. No names. You know who you are:
Ok. Next. Now, who are these people? My photo boxes are filled with mystery guests like this. Note to the wise: label the backs of your photos; I know you think your children will remember these people but trust me, we don’t.
The other thing that fills my photo boxes are these childhood shots that are unbearably sweet. Before the heartaches, bereavements, and wounds that balance out the exuberance of childhood into that thing we call Maturity, this is who we were and what we had. And that is point of taking photographs in the first place.
Talk to harpists about their impressions upon first hearing a harp and you will find a common theme.
“I found the sound irresistible.”
“I was drawn to it as I never had been to other instruments.”
“I knew right away: I just had to play harp someday.”
Have you ever heard anyone say, “The first time I heard a trombone, I just dropped everything and was mesmerized by the sound”? Drums? Flute? Hurdy Gurdy?
I know those instruments have their appeal, their reasons, and their own magnetism. But harp… it’s different. There is so much pleasure in the sound of a harp. Sometimes I think we harpists are the hedonists of the musical world.
Those of us who get snagged by The Harp seem to do so on a deep and mysterious level. We want that sound, and those fingers, and the feeling it gives us when we first hear it. We want it so bad. And yet, it is so hard to express and describe. What is it that beauty we hear? What is that quality of sound we must pursue?
I’m sure I will have bad days ahead, where bears scare me, the septic pump fails, or a tree falls on the chicken coop. But the honeymoon in our new house is sweet indeed!
Running this morning on the Snoqualmie Valley Trail I came across…
I do believe that is a beaver dam. I have never seen them in Washington, though I knew we had them.
Coming back up my hill I saw my neighbors Peter, Paul & Mary (as I have named them). Mary is hanging back. She’s still shy with me…
And The Supremes…
As I ascended up my hill out of the fog, I wondered at the beauty of the sun in the forest. Our forest. Do we really get to live here?
The sign behind Sunny reads “Stewardship Forest.” The previous owners participated in a Federal program that no longer exists, which was to encourage native tree planting on private lands. They planted over 2,000 trees on this property. Little seedlings that now stand at 4-7 feet among the “second growth” trees.
WOODS!!! Lots and lots of woods. Also moss. Creek whispering, owls hooting, fireplace crackling… Did I mention moss?
Unlike certain other individuals who were visiting Grandma, we did not go over the river etc. for just a social call. We have moved!
Our new home is lovely and peaceful, and every day I keep expecting a bill because it feels like a vacation home to be here. Feels like a vacation home, not a vacation! From about two weeks before the move (mid November) until now I have been so swamped with chores, problems and thousands of little tasks that my “real life” has disappeared. I am just now seeing it peep around the corner at me — it is possibly considering accompanying me here at the new house. In celebration, I hereby blog!
Family and pets have settled in nicely. Between the fireplace and the heated floor in the bathroom, Pilot has officially become the laziest cat in King County.
As musicians, the Mr. and I are loving how this house will be a great place for playing, teaching, ensemble rehearsals, and (when the weather warms up) making music en plein air! The house was even once owned by a famous musician. I cannot say who lest some creepy internet person might google it and start sending us fruitcakes or other intrusive communications.
May you enjoy your own version of going over rivers and through woods during this holiday season.
Okay! So there is a word for it! That makes me extremely happy, because it means I have something I can use to replace “freak.”
Source: Urban Dictionary
Now, before anyone gets their fur up, I want to be clear that I am not criticizing my sun-loving fellow humans in any way. Like a lot of people in this world, I just want to be understood. Dry, warm, light-infused days are extremely useful, I agree. What I want to convey is a mysterious phenomenon that I cannot even explain.
“…who finds joy and peace of mind…”
Joy and peace of mind. Why? I really don’t know. But we band of pluves (known to each other by secret handshake, aka manic happiness when clouds are present) just seem to thrive when the month names start ending with “ber” and “brr” is on our lips.
I take that back; it’s not really about temperature. I think it’s about light. For me, anyway, it has nothing to do with getting cold, or wet for that matter. (Though, speaking as an avid knitter, I can’t wait to wear sweaters again.) I think the light is more beautiful to us, like the way film directors want to shoot outdoor scenes on overcast days to get more vivid colors.
My other theory is that it is linked to eye color. We blue/green eyed folks have Northern climes in our blood, and perhaps an instinctive sense of comfort in low light. Moreover, there is a practical matter: bright sunlight hurts us. It hurts. I must have half a dozen pairs of sunglasses, and keep 2 emergency pairs in my car. And if the brightness doesn’t get you, there is the dreaded Sunlight Squint Headache. When I encounter someone who has blue or green eyes and doesn’t suffer like this, I cling to my little theory by wondering if they are a medical aberration, or possibly in denial, having been brainwashed by the peer pressure of brown eyed friends.
Then there is the romance of storms: the coziness of a good book by the fire, the lovely sound of rainfall, and the grand finale – rainbows (just enough sun, but not so much to ruin a perfectly good cloud cover).
The first year we lived here in the Snoqualmie Valley, where we have 80 inches of rain per year instead of the 35 we had in Seattle, we bought a treadmill. That winter it rained and rained (and snowed) and I clung desperately to that treadmill while the blizzards and torrents leered at the window. At first, that is. By the end of that first winter I felt like I never wanted to pound that rubber track again. The Dreadmill. In all the winters that have followed, two words have saved me: proper gear. It’s only water after all. If I cannot run in all weathers, I don’t want to run at all. Only two weather conditions will make me cancel a run: lightening and ice. Learned those the hard way. Nowadays I have a harder time running in summer heat than I ever did in storms.
In praise of tempests, I guess I should be noble and include a chat about how beneficial rain is to growing food, not to mention the beautiful green trees here. (Bill Murray, “…up there in the Pacific Northwest…” -first 15 seconds:)
But we are talking about joy and peace of mind rather than practical applications like pretty trees and good crops.
Joy and peace of mind. It is the reverse of Seasonal Affective Disorder. Away goes the sun, and suddenly we pluviophiles are electrified with energy, ideas, confidence, a sense of well being, and goodwill towards most everyone… even the sun lovers, who shake their heads at our joy and long for California.
P.S. What I knit when it’s too hot for a half a sweater on your lap. Fingerless mitts. 🙂
WHEN WILL IT END?!? Don’t answer. I know it ends late in September. Regular readers of my blog might recall that I don’t particularly like summer weather. Of course, I have to write this on the one day (the only day?) this summer which has seen us creep into the 90sF. Wimp.
This morning we awoke to a smokey smell and a warm pool of air, both of which were delivered by overnight express from Eastern Washington. They’ve been on fire over on that side of the Cascade range for the past few weeks, as usual for summer. Now it is nearly my bedtime but we are still in the 80s. (For non-local readers, that is weird. We generally cool off at night.) The thunder clouds are starting to roll in. Tomorrow is going to be a hot, wet, noisy mess.
Source: Weather.com
But it is great wedding weather! Well, not tomorrow, but in general the warm sunny days have been a real gift for anyone who wants to play outdoors.
Sunny and I take the stage at the Skagit Highland Games
What I am doing most outdoors is… cooking! This is the first summer I have really taken full advantage of our grill, which has a little side burner for whatever needs to be cooked in a pot or pan. My rule this summer has been: if I cannot cook it outside, I’m not cooking.
The hardest part has been finding ways to use my CSA vegetables without turning on the stove or oven. Houses get hot enough without steaming broccoli or roasting chickens.
Source: City of Snoqualmie
Sorry, that’s not funny. These poor neighbors of ours had a 4th of July rocket land on their wood shingle roof this summer. It makes me miss the wet, chilly days even more when I drive by the ruins. It makes me shudder.
Stay cool! Think October! Ok. I’ll think October and you go ahead and enjoy August.
“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” -Love Story (that was a movie, for you younger readers). Well, it’s a ridiculous quote if you ask me. A person you love should be the first in line to receive your mea culpa if one is merited. Nevertheless, what is unworthy of true love may actually make sense to blogging. So here is my non-apology for radio silence. Good lord, has it really been over 7 months?
The joy of my life since January has been… my new dog. Sunny is a nine year old Border Collie whose former owner passed away. A dear friend, who owns Sunny’s sister, introduced us and worked diligently to arrange the adoption. Running buddy, house protector, cat wrangler, and affectionate companion… these roles scarcely begin to represent how much he does for me and how deeply I adore him.
This adoption was a perfect example of that bumper sticker that reads “Who rescued who?” (Don’t you just want to get out a marker and add that “m”? Arg!) What a smart, sensitive, and helpful dog he is. It was only after he had settled into my home and heart before my friend gave me his papers, and we discovered that Sunny is the grandson of a champion Border Collie named Stetson! We have no sheep in our HOA-controlled neighborhood, but Sunny’s smarts and intuition are daily proof of his heritage. It is as if he can read my mind sometimes.
Sunny watching over Pilot, Pilot stealing Sunny’s bed.
And now that I have a dog (drum roll please), I feel safe enough to run trails! So much fun. The peace and beauty of trails, and their strengthening effect on my legs have been such pleasure. In spite of TWO bear encounters in the past month, I am as enthusiastic as ever. It is therapy. It is the anti-treadmill.
My greatest accomplishment of my life, the raising and homeschooling of my daughter, is nearly finished. This past school year (her junior year) has been busy and fulfilling. If you do not know much about homeschooling, let me just mention that nowadays there are so many people doing it, so much curriculum to choose from, and so many opportunities for educational experiences, that only a part of the business gets done at home. It really should be called “home-based instruction,” which is in fact what the state of Washington calls it. Yes, we do let our kids out of the house! (I know that is the number one misconception of homeschooling, the S word.) Anyway, we have one more year to teach, facilitate, guide and support her at home. What a privilege.
And in the world of harp… oh my, yes – it is a harp blog. OK. For some reason, I always think this is the least interesting topic that I talk about. I practice, I perform. I teach a bit. Not much to say about it all. I don’t talk about the zen mind required for plucking a perfect harmonic or the best way to make string ties because I can just see my non-harpist audience surfing away. I don’t blog about my clients or the people I meet, in case it violates their privacy. But perhaps I should make more of an effort to include musical topics. We’ll see.
Nevertheless, since my last foray into Blog Land there has been one important development. A new harp.
Pilgrim Clarsach
I long to avoid a lot of blah-blah-blah about the how and the why of getting this new instrument, so I will just say that this is a replacement for my Thormahlen Swan, which is now for sale. Details upon request. 😉 The new harp, a “Clarsach” made by Pilgrim Harps in England, has a lovely, very Celtic tone, perfect for the Scottish music I play. This model was originally designed for Derek Bell of the Chieftains, though it has undergone a few minor revisions.
I will be playing this new harp at the Skagit Valley Highland Games on July 12 at 10:25 AM.
I still play at the Black Dog in Snoqualmie every Second Sunday (mostly on my pedal harp, but occasionally on the Celtic harp). That is a brunch performance, 10:30 to noon, and all proceeds still go to Pasado’s Safe Haven Animal Rescue and Sanctuary. I will continue to appear through October, then I plan to take a break from this gig until next spring.
Music I have been working on lately: Medley of tunes from the film Titanic, When You Wish Upon a Star, Glenlivet, Flowers of the Forest, and Beauty and the Beast (for a wedding client).
My great, mysterious challenge and goal for the remainder of 2014: make more YouTube videos of my music! Great, because it would be so helpful for my clients, and mysterious because I cannot figure out why I’m stuck and not doing it!
Technically, I am not “supposed to” enjoy the spotlight. I am an introvert.
I used to berate myself for not being a more glittery and gregarious performer…
Deborah Henson-Conant rocking out as only she can do.
…but all attempts to emulate such a creature were disastrous. I eventually learned (and am still learning) to be a performer on my own terms, and to love the process of sharing music — which I have always felt driven to do.
I recently compiled a list of performance tips for a harp student of mine who was going to play publicly for the first time. It started as a very practical list, which you will see below. But even after the lesson was long over, the list of advice kept growing in my mind and becoming increasingly philosophical (as you will also see below).
These tips, advice, and musings that I have collected might be helpful to other students and new performers. Especially those who have similar temperaments to mine. In other words. Introverts.
It’s not that extroverts are unwelcome here! But I have doubts as to how much value they will find. Extroverts are naturally focused outward, on the world around them, and are likely to feel like their interaction with an audience is natural, easy, and even vital. They might not have much use for advice about connecting the inner life of a quiet mind to performing music publicly.
Still, even extroverts can have issues with public performance. As Susan Cain points out in the aforementioned book Quiet, social anxiety can certainly strike extroverts (e.g.- Barbara Streisand, paralyzed by stage fright). And conversely introverts can be very comfortable in social situations, as I am.
If you are a musician who feels brilliant while playing in your own kitchen, but inept and stiff when confronted by an audience, I hope you will benefit from some of my thoughts. If you have ever sat down to play your harp for others and felt so disoriented by your audience that you looked at your own instrument and thought, “what the hell is this?” — perhaps my point of view will give you a few insights.
I love to play my harp for people. But I do not love to “perform” in the classic sense of “ta da! here I am! Me me me…” I spent a long time earlier in my life wishing that was me. I know I am not alone in this. But let’s stop asking Santa for a unicorn and see what else he might have in his bag…
First, some practical advice for harp students and new performers:
1. Detach Experience from Place.
The physical area in which you practice is linked psychologically with the music you have learned in that spot. So a week or a few days before your performance, start moving the harp around to other rooms, other lighting, etc. Move repeatedly and practice in those different spots. For the sake of self-confidence, move the harp back to your normal spot during your last practice before the performance.
2. Dress rehearsal.
Play for other people before playing for the “target audience.” Enlist neighbors, close friends, the UPS driver — anyone you can get — to listen to you play a little. If you can do a “test performance” at a nursing home or for a group of friends, do it! If you really cannot manage that, record yourself. Hearing yourself on tape or on video will teach you all kinds of things about your weak spots. And the act of recording will provide a kind of performance pressure that you can use to desensitize yourself.
3. Over prepare.
As a new performer, whatever you intend to present publicly has to be beyond ready. Introverts especially must over-prepare their music, because we are not wired for external distraction during performance. Our brains are actually, physically different from those of extroverts. (Read Introvert Advantage for more on this.) Perhaps you are one of the lucky ones, and can “wing it” with pieces that are not rock solid. But most new performers should not depend on adrenaline or luck to pull them through a weak section. Do not be like the Dilbert cartoon that shows his Project Timeline with a big sign in the middle reading “Insert miracle here.”
4. “Play like you practice, practice like you play.” – Sports maxim.
If it is an outdoor performance, practice a bit outdoors. A nighttime event, practice at night. Candlelit Christmas Eve service, turn off the lights, get a good stand light, and light some candles. A background music event, turn on the TV and the radio to simulate distraction. Ask a friend to distract you with an ill-timed question, by pretending to talk about you within earshot, or by singing along. Practice blocking it all out.
5. Performance day – practical tips.
No miniskirts. “Miniskirt” for a harpist is defined as anything above the middle of your shin. Seriously. Either go long or go with pants. You do not want to provide entertainment unrelated to the music, and this is no time to ride side-saddle.
Nails short (unless you play wire-strung) and clean. No nail polish unless you are used to seeing it there when you practice. No jewelry unless you’ve practiced successfully in it.
Know the floor you’ll be seeing behind your strings. If it will be white, beige, or color-patterned, or if you are not sure, bring a black cloth to lay down so you can see your strings.
Bring a zip lock baggie with a damp (not soaking!) wash cloth to clean your hands between pieces. You may need a dry one too, but something about hand sweat is very sticky when plucking strings, even after drying. It’s nice to have a way to clean your hands during longer sets.
Before playing, wash and/or soak your hands in very warm (not hot) water if you can. Many public bathrooms do not provide warm water, so consider bringing some in a thermos. Hands immersed in warm water will respond much like they do to a physical warm up on the harp: capillaries open up, finger feel nimble, skin is softer – producing better tone.
If you have to wait on or near a stage (in other words, out where people can see you), use the waiting time to open and close the fingers flat to the palm, slowly and deliberately, to keep them limber.
Micropore paper tape: use a small piece to hold rings in place if you have floppy rings. It can also be used to cover small cuts or hang nails if they are not on the string contact spot.
The Mind on Stage
We are artists, but we cannot go look at our paintings on the eve of the gallery opening to reassure ourselves that, indeed, we really do have a lovely body of work. We see only our own hands, and they are empty. We know our brain is full of music, but the doubts and fears can block our view. Let us look at some ways to cope with the mental aspects of performing.
In some situations (such as background music performance), you can begin with some improvisation in the key of your first piece as an introduction to the piece. Improvisation helps the mind feel control and a sense of ownership. As a new performer, improvisation can help you avoid feeling like you are walking on stage to take a test, or face an enemy, or fall into deep water. But always practice improvising at home. It sounds like a contradiction: do something completely new, but practice it first. The point is to feel comfortable just “doodling around” on your harp so you can do it in performance.
It is crucial that you practice covering “mistakes” during your regular practice! If you play a wrong note, or forget to move a pedal or lever, or you just realize you went to the “B” part too soon — it is a normal part of playing live music. We are so accustomed to the perfection of recorded music. But many “takes” and much patching takes place in the studio to clean up every track. The late Lynne Palmer, an extraordinary musician with a career spanning many decades, told me she could count the number of truly perfect performances in her life on one hand. That means she played hundred of times with flaws. And you will too.
How do we live with flaws? By dedicating a certain amount of practice to “covering.” If you always stop and fix mistakes in practice, you will never learn to cover. Use some of your practice every day to consciously, deliberately, continue playing past mistakes, and see what your amazing brain can come up with to get you back on track.
When you make a mistake, preserve the ongoing rhythm of the piece – do not pause. Keep playing something! Practice this. It really does come more naturally on stage if you have been doing it at home. Be very aware of your key signature and preserve that tonality. Identify “repair points” in the music, where you can go if there is a total “train wreck” and you need to just time-warp to another spot.
When I was in a high school play, I had to stand on a ladder back stage and open a window in an artificial wall, facing the audience, and deliver a single line. In true introvert fashion, I opened my window, saw the audience, and went completely blank. Someone taped the play, in which I saw my head flop forward – chin to chest (was I fainting?), then jerk up as I delivered a different line from later in the script. My eyes at that moment looked insane. I have no memory of how I got out of that. I have no memory of thinking or problem solving. That is not how the brain works when it is rescuing you! The answer comes from a place that speaks no words and has no logic. No one wants an experience like this – for years I cringed at the recollection – but if you have such an experience, believe in your brain and trust that it will bail you out somehow.
Let us leave thoughts of train wrecks and fainting and now discuss what will happen, and that which we go forth to do…
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” -Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems.
Your music is art-in-the-moment. Why are you there, if not to spend a part of your wild and precious life sharing music? “Well, it seemed like a good idea back in March to play at my sister’s wedding, but now…” Perhaps you need to reach back and recreate that mindset, that the wedding is in four months, not four minutes. If you can, this bit of mental gymnastics might calm you considerably.
But as an introvert, I believe the wild and precious moment is also an intimate one. As much as I need my audience to give life to my playing, pulling that harp back onto my shoulder is like putting a call on hold. They no longer matter, temporarily.
I realize this is not standard protocol, and certainly not how an extrovert would handle an audience. Advice from that quarter might ask you to view your audience as friends, or as naked — or any number of mental tricks to minimize their distraction. For me, I know after years of experimenting that I must view them not at all. Not once I begin playing.
The second I start thinking about my audience, or how I look to them (“smile!”) — the second my attention strays from the music, I will fall. Skip a beat, miss a note, do something that requires me to dig out my “covering” skills. So why not just get inside your music and stay there?
“It is a mistake to try to look too far ahead. The chain of destiny can only be grasped one link at a time.” -Sir Winston Churchill
Resist the urge to think of the next section, or the next song, or even what notes are coming up in a few seconds (unless and only unless that’s how you always practiced it, with the mental experience of looking ahead). Your brain is going to experience the music sequentially, and all your fabulous muscle memory goes straight out the window if you engage in frontal lobe debates over whether the next measure begins on D or D#. Don’t do it! If you have doubts about an upcoming note, follow the music in your head and let your fingers take you there. Think about bowls of fruit or horses in a meadow if you must, but do not question “while the ball is in play.”
Never say “sorry” if you make a mistake. That takes your head out of the music and into the eyes of your audience. I guess if you feel sorry you can apologize mentally to the music itself – anything to stay focused on the music. For all you know, people may not have even heard the flaw, and if they did it was not the Gong of Judgement that you experienced in your own ears.
To get inside your music, let your imagination conjure up places, images, and feelings as you play. Reach for, express, and be conscious of every color in the music, its dynamics, rhythms, imagery and tones. Do this in practice every day so that performance is not different, only richer.
This has been quite a difficult post to write. I feel a responsibility to convey all that I’ve learned about performing, which is impossible. If you have further insights, please leave a comment. And if you want to read my ongoing analysis of how an introvert performs music, I will be creating a new category for blogging about this in the future: “Performance experiences.”
That’s two separate topics, by the way: 1) cynthia-kuni and 2) bs-fitness-devices. I am the last person you’d want to interview about bs fitness devices, unless you just want to listen to growling.
It was a great experience — so much fun! Vinnie and Anna are hilarious and they were both so nice. I am really better at writing than speaking, so I am thrilled that I did not (I think) say anything stupid. I enjoyed their questions, their banter, Anna’s Bart Simpson Squirrel imitation, and their sincere interest in my little life. I had a blast!
As promised, part of my follow-up is to recommend Vinnie Tortorich’s book, Fitness Confidential. A combination of fitness wisdom and autobiography, it is a fun and informative read. Also, I pretty much love any book that makes me laugh out loud. Fitness Confidential is very different from other fitness books because Vinnie Tortorich is so different. The life he has led and his experiences are unlike anyone else. Get the book! 🙂
For anyone who noticed I was preparing for a marathon all summer, I have a follow-up on that too: “Discretion is the better part of valor.” I reported in September that my long runs were not going very well, and that I thought it might be the unusual heat we’ve had this summer. A week later a had a pretty horrible long run in fairly cool conditions. I am insanely optimistic sometimes, but I am not insane.
Facing reality, I switched to the Half Marathon. That was the slowest half I have ever run, which made me think, “good call.” On the other hand, I ran hard, and did very well from an Effort point of view. I passed runners continuously after mile 5 and pushed myself hard enough to still be sore today, three days later. My two main requirements for an event are 1) have fun and 2) finish strong (on the same day I started). Check, check.
I now have a special message from the part of my brain that is dedicated to full-time worrying. Someone is going to read about my running “problem,” or hear me discuss it on Vinnie’s podcast, and they are going to say, “Oh, see? You lose the carbs and your endurance falls apart.” That is what we call a Belief Based Solely On Wishing. I have been low-carb for much longer than I have been experiencing a problem. There is too much personal information for me to try to express what I think is happening, so let me just share my last six marathon finish times with you. Eating gels and sugar: 4:38, 4:48, 4:21. Eating nothing: 4:21, 4:25, 4:21. I believe this is the part where Vinnie would say, “So go f— ” I mean, “Have a nice day.”
Next up, Seattle Marathon? I might be ready, I might not. But my half-m gave me a lot of motivation and Vinnie & Anna inspire me and keep me smiling.
We interrupt our regular Harpist’s Output of Sweetness & Light to bring you:
explicit language
unpleasant truths about what you probably ate for breakfast
an unpopular point of view on exercise
stuff I like about one guy who is saying what I already knew but with more blushing (me, not him)
lots of bullet point lists, exclamation points and italics! Sound fun? Let’s go!
The Background: I’m not sure I have ever mentioned this, but I have strong opinions about what I eat. I switched to the Paleo Diet in 2006 and added low-carb to it a couple of years after that. The benefits I have experienced from this switch could take up an entire post. “Eat this way!” is at the top of the list of things I would tell my 18 year old self if I could go back in time.
I will admit that I have not been completely faithful, because you do not walk away from decades of consuming something more addictive than cocaine overnight. I struggle. I fall and get up again. But I have no doubts. Like Gary Taubes says, “Just because it took me 19 years to give up smoking doesn’t mean the body ‘needs’ cigarettes.”
The Discovery: So there I was, Low-Carb Paleo True Believer, running down the street while listening to podcasts, and I hear this guy, Vinnie Tortorich being interviewed. To be honest, my first reaction was not positive. His macho-Italian voice made me think unkind thoughts. But everything he said was brilliant and I soon shed the prejudice.
Another day, another run, another interview on a different podcast I like – there he is again! This time I’m listening well right from the start… more good advice and sound reasoning. Now, I spend a lot of hours running (yes, without sugar), and I am always interested in new books or podcasts to occupy my mind. That afternoon I subscribed to Vinnie’s podcast and downloaded a number of the older episodes as well.
Before I continue, if you are sensitive to bad language, crude and vulgar jokes or you’re just easily offended in general, this is not a show you will enjoy. Or a blog post for that matter. Don’t apologize; I respect your sensibilities and often feel that way myself. Stick with Jimmy Moore or Robb Wolf and you will get a lot of the same information without the hot sauce.
I often want to swear and tell people off myself. But I was raised to be a lady. By the way, it is said that one of the foulest mouths belonged to one of the world’s finest harpists ever, Alice Chalifoux. I sat across from her during lunch at a conference once and heard her refer to a group of people as “those bastards.” Mild, for her I’m told. She was in her 80s at the time.
Getting mad: Vinnie (may I call you Vinnie, Mr. Tortorich?) is “American’s Angriest Trainer.” He calls himself that because “your good intentions have been stolen from you.” So true. Ask me about an entire year spent being hungry every day on Weight Watchers, long ago. Or the fat I gained trying to eat like Ornish. Or the “cheat foods” I tried to work off by running. I had good intentions too.
Vinnie rants a lot. Honestly, I love the rants… Biggest Loser starvation nonsense, clueless “trainers” at gyms, the tip jars at Starbucks, and whatever pisses him off — I love it. The INTJ in me craves truth and justice, and I sometimes wish I could say “go fuck yourself!” like Vinnie does, but for the aforementioned lady-like upbringing. Vicarious venting, that’s what it is.
Anna: Anna Vocino, Vinnie’s cohost, gets me laughing so hard with her vocal impressions (she does a great Paula Deen). She contributes in so many ways, keeps Vinnie on track (or tries to), and looks up information on the fly during their discussions. And how cool is it that her name is “Vocino?” Doesn’t that mean “shout” in Italian? Go, Anna!
Content: Vinnie knows his stuff — except for the moments when Anna has to look it up. Just kidding – he is a well-educated man and has decades of experience coaching people. But unlike 99.9% of the coaches you meet, he questioned the low-fat, low-calorie paradigm, that monster born of the McGovern commission’s decision to put wheat profits above human health in the early 70s. Vinnie was taught that dogma, but he eventually questioned it, and he embraced an unpopular truth – with bared teeth. There is a great value in the polite, scientific voices you will see in my bibliography, but Vinnie is the first bulldog, in-your-face, you-wanna-piece-of-me? warrior for the cause. Bravo.
By the way, if you are scratching your head over that reference to McGovern, take a moment to watch this:
Here are some of the things you will learn about on Vinnie’s show. If you just want read about these things without the vitriol, see the bibliography at the end of this post.
Successful weight loss will come from 95% diet, 5% exercise.
Avoid sugar and avoid grains. (Personally I also avoid potatoes, legumes and other high-carb foods, but most people will experience a dramatic change in their health if they only do these 2 things.)
“Put life into living.” Occasion treats will not harm you if they are really occasional. Total deprivation doesn’t work well for most people.
You cannot undo the damage of whack-load of sugar with an hour or two at the gym. Hormones (insulin, leptin, ghrelin) rule.
Cutting carbs is important, but what people really have a hard time accepting is increasing the fat in their diets. Not seed oils. Olive oil and saturated fat (especially from pastured animals) are good for you. The cholesterol theory of heart disease is founded on politics and economics, not science.
There are no fitness shortcuts. No gadgets, no 20-min-a-week programs, no pills that will make a lasting difference to your fitness.
Sometimes people aren’t right about fitness. They just seem right because they are young, or “naturally thin.” Ask yourself whom they have helped and how long the help lasted.
There are right and wrong reasons to exercise. Which reason you choose is going to determine your success.
Juice is worse than soda. Don’t make it, don’t buy it, don’t drink it.
Skinny does not equal healthy.
Getting older is no excuse for poor fitness.
A “cheat day” is a bad idea, if you haven’t already figured that out.
Olive oil, yes. Energy gels, no.
A very small percentage of the population can sustain an extremely-low-calorie diet for life. Very small.
Connections: Vinnie, on the off chance you ever read this, I want to explain the real reason I love your show (besides the ranting) and eventually came to feel like you were a close personal friend: connections. (Yes, more bullet points!)
Los Angeles – I love hearing you mention places in LA, around where I grew up. Not that I ever want to live there again!
You are an endurance athlete. I’m not sure if you know this, but among the Paleo-diet crowd there is sometimes a bit of an anti-cardio attitude. They call it “chronic cardio” and blame various health issues on running, while completely ignoring the fact that the running culture is a sugar culture. Although you are not advocating the Paleo diet, what you say is pretty close, and I am always so happy to see those two worlds “collide.”
You are over 50! I am over 50! [Insert secret handshake here.] How many role models can I look to for inspiration, when it comes to staying fit and feeling younger than my years? Damn few.
Ok, this one is just jaw dropping to me. You talked about Dr. Sarno’s book on your show. Nobody talks about Dr. Sarno! I even stopped mentioning him to people because I got tired of being unjustly pitied as some kind of quack-follower. Someday I’m going to write a blog post about my experience with TMS (Tension Myositis Syndrome), but for now let me just say that this information saved my running and changed my life. It is real and true. I am living proof.
You are friends with Genie Francis! No, I am not also friends with Genie Francis. But long ago, for a short time in my life, I was her double. I lived in West Hollywood, and I could not go anywhere without someone asking me for an autograph. In spite of repeated correction, the two elderly Russian women next door ambushed me almost every time I came out of my apartment. They would take my hands and pat them and gaze at me, smiling, muttering to each other in Russian. “I’m not Genie Francis.” “Yah, yah…”
Here are some pictures. You be the judge. And tell Genie “Hi” from me.
A younger me, looking like Genie Francis
Young Genie Francis, looking like me
You can find Vinnie’s podcast on iTunes under “Vinnie Tortorich”, or at his website: www.vinnietortorich.com
Almost forgot the promised bibliography! I have decided to borrow one, which you will find here, because 1) it has a lot of the books I would have listed, and 2) he has a really cool site you ought to see. Update, December 2016… I see my link no longer works. I have written a new bibliography in this 2016 blog post which you will find at the very bottom of the post.
“Alice laughed: “There’s no use trying,” she said; “one can’t believe impossible things.” “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” -Alice in Wonderland.
I have little use for the impossible, being a very practical sort of person. And six is a difficult number when what you are counting might flutter by only every 15 minutes or so, over the course of hours.
So I count Five Beautiful Things sometimes. Mostly, I count them when I am running. It is a marvelous distraction from ugly things (trash), annoying things (bad drivers, off-leash dogs), and discouraging things (“When will this summer heat ever end?”).
Wow. This really makes me sound like a new-age, lavender scented, dance-in-the-meadows kind of dreamer. Which I am not. I like to rant and I hold grudges. I get very cranky about all kinds of things. Sometimes I laugh out loud at perverse or dark humor. (To wit, have you listened to Welcome To Nightvale? It’s Twilight Zone meets Monty Python. So funny. )
But I have a very restless mind, and sometimes it likes the challenge of a counting game. Moreover, there is a sort possessive urge in me to put things on lists. For instance, if I list: mist in a forest, orange tabby cat sitting on a white fence, Mt. Si with new snow, trellis with vines, pink cloud… I feel like I own them in a way. And dammit, it feels nice. Who couldn’t use a little more Nice in their lives?
Number 5, a pink cloud.
UPDATES
Harp at the Black Dog went really well. Knowing I was playing for a cause energized me and changed the way I was playing. If you live in the area, I’ll be there every 2nd Sunday, 10:30-noon to raise money for animal rescue and shelter.
Knitting – Feels like I’m stuck in the mud. I make progress, but there are too many projects on the needles! (Three cardigans, two pair socks, and a lace shawl.) Unable (or unwilling) to set some aside and just finish a project, I rotate through them, changing every week. Never again, Cynthia! Bad, bad, bad! Limits and boundaries are your friend! Here it is in writing in case I need to refer back: ONE stockinette project, ONE lace, texture or color-work project, and ONE pair of socks. That’s what I can handle. Sheesh, what was I thinking?
Running – In spite of the hottest, most humid summer I can remember as a runner, I have stuck to my marathon plan fairly closely. I am not 100% sure that has been a healthy thing to do. There have been long runs when I really felt ill from the heat but forced myself to finish. I hate that, because I cannot get a good idea of my real fitness when I feel that bad. My last really long run before Marathon Day is this weekend, then we’ll see in two weeks. I might really be in miserable shape, or I might find it was all an illusion if the weather cools off on race day.
As some of you will recall, I have been playing for brunch at The Black Dog cafe in Snoqualmie on second Sundays this summer. (The last one scheduled is Sept. 8, but I hope to continue on after that. Please Like me on Facebook with the widget on the right to get updates.) It is a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere in which to play, and I enjoy it very much.
The Black Dog is more than a cafe, and more than a music/theater venue. There is always a variety of art, antiques and crafts to peruse and to buy, and always a friendly, talk-to-the-folks-at-the-next-table kind of atmosphere.
Occasionally it gets quiet and slow…
At other times, I wonder if I can be heard above the happy sounds of food and friends.
It is so relaxed and laid back at The Black Dog that I have to force myself to get into proper clothing (not pj’s and tshirts, Cynthia!), and maybe even do my hair. Which, it turns out, is hopeless. The Black Dog is a hip, hap’nin kind of place, but I seem incapable of looking even remotely hip and always seem to end up looking more like Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island.
Despite groovy earrings and leopard skin dress, just not hip.
Despite cool earrings, I arrive at the Black Dog looking typically un-hip.
But I don’t play the Black Dog to feel like I could look good in leather. Nor do I play the Black Dog for the money, which is minimal. I play there because I love the musical freedom and the warm reception. (And the coffee.) Last week as I looked over at the little tip jar between tunes, I thought, “I don’t need that.” And then I thought about my true reasons for playing there and decided to add one more.
Once upon a time there was an innocent creature, a donkey named Pasado, who was hurt, and hurt, and hurt some more until he died. Do you remember? I cried when it happened and have cried over it many times since. Just writing about it, I am crying now. That unfathomable event summed up the worst of humanity. The sanctuary that was created in response to it sums up the best of humanity.
When I was a little girl, our father died and our mother went to work while we were in school. Working moms were not as common back then. During the day, whenever I was not at school, I remember feeling like there was not a soul on earth who would protect me if I needed it. I remember every danger, every close call, and a few incidents where I did not escape harm. A psychologist might stroke her chin and theorize that my tears for Pasado are tears for my own vulnerable young self. Surely there is some truth to that. But I survived and grew strong whereas Pasado did not.
Starting with my next visit on September 8, 100% of the proceeds from my music at The Black Dog will be sent to Pasado’s Safe Haven animal sanctuary. I really hope you will come to The Black Dog on a second Sunday morning, enjoy the food and some harp music, and leave a few bucks in the jar for animal rescue. Thank you!
Harp My Day 