I’m back from my trip to the UK, and honestly, I kind of wish I were still there.
Sometimes I go places, and I think, “I could live here.” My husband will say that I always say that, but it’s not true. I definitely could not live in New Orleans (hurricanes!). I love Key West, and wouldn’t mind having a vacation house there, but it’s too far from the mainland – although the mainland is Florida, and right now, the further I can be from there, the better. (Also, hurricanes.) And although I still love many things about my home city of Milwaukee, and think about having a place in the Third Ward to stay for Irish Fest and to rent out as an AirBnB the rest of the year, I couldn’t live there.
I could live in London. It has everything. There’s theater – for about a third of the cost of Broadway shows (I saw Bonnie & Clyde on the West End and Much Ado About Nothing at Shakespeare’s Globe). There’s public transportation that can get you anywhere within the city and beyond. It’s a walkable city (I averaged 15.5K steps/day), and, most importantly, I ate cheese off a conveyor belt (something I never did before, even in Wisconsin).
We also spent some time in Oxford, where the binge drinking I witnessed rivaled anything I ever saw in Wisconsin, particularly near UW-Whitewater or Madison (I guess a college town is a college town anywhere you go!), and the Cotswolds. The latter involved my husband driving on the left side of the road, because it wasn’t quite as rail-friendly, and we wanted to do some exploring. (Fortunately, he was able to make the transition back to right side driving when we picked up our car from the airport parking lot.) The airline we chose was based in Iceland, so we had a brief stop there both ways, although there was no time for exploration.
But all good things come to an end, and I’m back now. My friends who are living there right now (and were terrific hosts as well as tour guides) will be moving to the states in July. They’re not sure if they’ll stay here long-term or be assigned overseas (hopefully to another great location where we can visit!).
Honestly, we could’ve stayed another month – except for there’s this little thing I’m doing called a studio showcase on June 5, for which I have to prepare. I created rehearsal tracks and distributed music four weeks ago, so everyone (hopefully) has a good start on it, and we have the next four weeks to polish and get people together to work together and collaborate.
The ensemble programs that I did for ten years in Milwaukee were very special to me, and my Milwaukee students, with very few exceptions, performed above and beyond what anyone would expect of middle and high school students. I’ll write about some of these past programs on Thursday.
Now that I’m back in town, I also need to remember that there are things about Baltimore that are equal to (or, in some cases, better than) things found in the UK. Unfortunately, I missed this year’s Kinetic Sculpture Race at the AVAM. But I’ll put up their exciting and creative exhibits against the dragon at the British Museum any day – both are fun and inventive. And no, I didn’t try the pie and mash with eels (shudder). Give me a Maryland crab cake any day!
Pie & mash with eel vs. Maryland crab cakes – you be the judge
******** Summer registration is now open! For new students who register before May 15, pay for four (4) 50-minute lessons and receive a bonus lesson. All lessons must be taken between June 20 and August 16 (I will be off 6/30-7/10 for the NATS Conference).(I am on vacation through 5/8, but will answer emails as available) Register at Summer Session 2022 – Early Bird!
Here’s a 2018 blogpost about resonance. For more cool stuff about resonance, check out this video I just found:
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I receive daily email updates from marketing guru Seth Godin, which have been inspiring me to make some changes in the way I approach my studio management. This morning’s advice resonated with me in a way that transcended business. It was:
Ringing is resonant. A small force causes sympathetic vibrations, and magic happens.
Wringing requires significant effort and can even destroy the object it is applied to.
When you ring a bell for your clients, you’ve delivered with care and empathy.
But when you seek to wring every dollar out of a transaction, you’ve probably engaged for the last time.
Of course, we talk about resonance in singing, which is frequently called “ring” (or “ping” or “edge” or “focus,” but I like ring).
Ringing, in singing, is resonant. And when you engage things properly to cause sympathetic vibrations, magic happens.
Wringing, in singing, is manipulation and artificiality. You’re doing something contrived and unnatural and it will, ultimately, affect your technique negatively.
When you sing in a ringing tone for your audience, you are delivering your message with clarity and in a way that is pleasing and moving.
But when you seek to wring every last overtone out of a note, you are singing with too much pressure and force, and you are not engaging your audience.
So when we work on a resonant sound, work on finding balance and freedom to create clarity and magic. I’m working on new vocalise sheets, which I will distribute at the beginning of the fall semester (post-Labor Day), and we can go over any exercises with which you’re not familiar.
******** Summer registration is now open! For new students who register before May 15, pay for four (4) 50-minute lessons and receive a bonus lesson. All lessons must be taken between June 20 and August 16 (I will be off 6/30-7/10 for the NATS Conference).(I am on vacation through 5/8, but will answer emails as available) Register at Summer Session 2022 – Early Bird!
If I ever do a podcast or a book, this will be its title…..
When I was growing up, I lived in a small 3 bedroom ranch house. We had one bathroom, two good sized bedrooms (although neither was particularly large) and a third bedroom which we called the small room.
Until I went to college, I had one of the bigger bedrooms and my sister (who was 8 years younger) had the small room. I commuted to college the first year and then moved to the dorms for my second and third year, coming home most weekends to work, since school was only five miles down the road.
One day during summer break, I came home from the Wisconsin State Fair with my friends to find that my sister had moved into my room and that all my things had been put into the small room. I wasn’t informed this would be happening, even though I still had three more weeks before school started, and as much as I protested, I was relegated to the small room for the remainder of the time I would be a resident of that house. Even when I moved back home for my senior year of college. With my stuff crammed into a small dresser that wasn’t mine, my clothes crammed into a too-small closet, and my body up against a wall in a too-small bed.
And for much of my life, I felt contained by my surroundings. I felt that I was too much for my space, for those I grew up with, and even for my family.
Once, long after I’d moved out, I had learned a new aria and was eager to sing it for my mother. After I finished it, she said, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s too loud for this small room.”
She didn’t like opera. But I don’t think any room would have been big enough for her to enjoy my singing.
So many of us feel or have felt constrained by rooms that have been too small, whether it’s the actual physical space or the room in our heads, whether it’s through our own perception or that of another person. I haven’t felt that way for a long time now, thank goodness. And if you feel that way ….
Blow off the doors. Knock down the walls.
******** Summer registration is now open! For new students who register before May 15, pay for four (4) 50-minute lessons and receive a bonus lesson. All lessons must be taken between June 20 and August 16 (I will be off 6/30-7/10 for the NATS Conference).(I am on vacation through 5/8, but will answer emails as available) Register at Summer Session 2022 – Early Bird!
Last year, Mezzoid Voice Studio hosted actors Christian Borle and Adrianna Hicks as the master clinicians for World Voice Weekend.
Their master classes were incredible, and they offered terrific insight for their singers. We were fortunate enough to get them, in large part because Broadway was shut down. Now that the Great White Way has reopened, getting artists of this calibre will be more difficult – and probably even more expensive.
I was thrilled the other day when I read that not only are both of them working on new projects, they are working on the same project! Marc Shaiman & Scott Witman (Hairspray, Catch Me if You Can) have written a new music, Some Like It Hot, which will be opening this fall. It will be directed by Casey Nicholaw, who also directed The Book of Mormon.
This is based on the movie of the same name, which starred Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon, and Marilyn Monroe as members of an all-female band (yes, cross-dressing is involved). It’s a fantastic classic. The Tony Curtis role will be played by Mr. Borle, and the Marilyn Monroe role will be played by Miss Hicks. (The Jack Lemmon role will be played by J. Harrison Ghee, who was in Kinky Boots.)
Tickets will go on sale on April 27 to American Express cardholders and on May 2 for everyone else.
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If you would like the opportunity to get into a studio that hosts clinicians of this caliber (and others), summer registration is now open.
For new students who register before May 15, pay for four (4) 50-minute lessons and receive a bonus lesson. All lessons must be taken between June 20 and August 16 (I will be off 6/30-7/10 for the NATS Conference).
(I am on vacation through 5/8, but will answer emails as available)
While I’m in England, enjoy this post from 2020 (I have an even greater appreciation of Billie Eilish since this post was written):
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About 7 years ago, I was at Zumba at the Wisconsin Athletic Club, and I was not feeling all that motivated. I had a move coming up, I was packing, and I was lonely, since both my dogs and my husband were out in Maryland.
I noticed a young woman in the row ahead of me who was really into it – her energy was on fire, her moves were smooth, and she seemed to be having a great time. Her t-shirt said, “Tosa East Senior Powder Puff Football 2007.” I did the math and realized that would make her 23. I decided that I was going to follow her and match my energy to hers. I joked later that she was my “unwitting personal trainer.”
Earlier this year, I started doing Zumba again at Brick Bodies and was really enjoying myself At the end of class, a woman (about my age) came up to me and said, “you’re really good! I was following you!” and I thought, “Oh my gosh, I’m someone’s unwitting personal trainer!” It felt good.
The reason I bring this up is that I follow a blog called Bulletproof Musician, written by a violinist and performance psychologist named Noa Kageyama. His most recent blog was on the topic of motivating yourself to practice by “copycatting a friend.”
Generally, being a copycat is frowned upon (just ask Billie Eilish) in terms of finding your creative voice. But in this case, Dr. Kageyama is talking about finding someone who inspires you and looking at what they do that makes them successful. Do they get up earlier? Do they set a specific practice time daily and stick to it? What artists do they listen to?
Emulate, not imitate.
What does that mean?
According to Professor Paul Brians of Washington University, “emulate” is a more specialized term, meaning that you are striving to achieve something that someone else did (or surpass, as some definitions say). “Thus[,] if you try to climb the same mountain your big brother did, you’re emulating him; but if you copy his habit of sticking peas up his nose, you’re just imitating him.”
I emulated Miss Powder Puff Football 2007.
I imitate Julie Andrews.
Who is your “unwitting personal trainer?” Are you emulating them or imitating them? Do you know the difference?
(By the way, this song gave me a new appreciation for Billie Eilish.)
****** For new students who register before May 15, pay for four (4) 50-minute lessons and receive a bonus lesson. All lessons must be taken between June 20 and August 16 (I will be off 6/30-7/10 for the NATS Conference). (I am on vacation through 5/8, but will answer emails as available)
On March 4, 2020, I had a chat in FB Messenger with a friend and she asked what I was up to. I told her I was a little overwhelmed because, at that point, I had the following on my plate:
Five more performances of Don Giovanni with WNO at the KenCen;
A world premiere performance of a song cycle I had commissioned Garth Baxter to compose for me, based on poems by Irish poets, to be done in a house concert by an area impresario;
Writing a cabaret show for several of my students to be performed at Germano’s Piattini on March 29;
Holy Week;
Leaving for the UK to visit my best friend and her husband, who were stationed at the U.S. Embassy there.
She said, “Wow! That’s a lot! But it sounds like a fun lot!” and I agreed.
Well. I think you know what happened then.
So this is what became of that:
There were three more performances of DG before the KenCen closed (although AGMA negotiated for us to be paid for one of them, we lost payment for two);
The house concert was cancelled (although I am recording two of the songs in a project scheduled for June 3);
Germano’s has closed permanently (really upset about that);
No Holy Week services were held with singers (this cost me nearly $1000 in income);
No trip to the UK at that time
BUT
I’m going this weekend! My friends are there for another two months and then they’re returning back to the DC area, but we’re staying with them and, for two weeks, we get to explore London and Oxford and whatever else my husband has planned.
Because I just sat back and said, “You know what – plan whatever – I will go along gladly with whatever you want to do as long as I don’t have to make any decisions.” (Hopefully he hasn’t scheduled bungee jumping from the Tower of London or anything like that.)
There will be many decisions to make when I return. I will be in the throes of preparing for our June 5 studio showcase, for which I’ve already assigned music and created rehearsal tracks. I will be preparing for the recording of the two Irish songs. I will be organizing a program for two of my graduating seniors to be done in late July/early August. I may be hosting a house concert in August (artist TBD).
But for now, I’m going to press pause. For the next two weeks, I’ll be re-posting some things (which I may tweak over the weekend before I leave to go with more of the style and format that I’ve developed since moving to WordPress).
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I haven’t forgotten about the summer lesson offerings;
those will be dropped before I leave. If you’re interested, contact me at christine@mezzoidvoicestudio.com.
I will answer emails as time permits.
In last Thursday’s blogpost, I wrote about some of my personal victories. But what about the times when I did not emerge from the stage victorious? What if I felt as though I was a failure?
Failure is such an awful word, so instead of recounting my “personal failures,” I’d like to recount some of my personal NOT-victories. One in particular is a doozy.
To save you a click, I’ll reprise those here with my added comments on them from a ten-years later perspective.
When I walked up my skirt and fell into the first violinist’s music stand (see previous article on performance anxiety). My favorite story, and you really have to click on the link to get the full impact. A different impact than I made with the music stand.
When I pierced my finger with a spindle during a production of Flying Dutchman at Washington Opera. That could’ve been a lot worse.
When I was thrown off someone’s back while on tour with Pirates of Penzance and crashed into the stage, dislocating my knee and, as I found out much later, cracking my coccyx. (Didn’t know that until I lost weight and no longer had padding on it.) Again, could’ve been a lot worse. But it was one of the many things that contributed to my massive knee arthritis.
When I came home from a Friday luncheon and decided to take a nap, only to sleep through a wedding I was supposed to sing that day – although I woke up deathly ill and wound up being so sick I couldn’t sing or teach for two full weeks. Boy, I lost a lot of money then, and again in the subsequent never-ending Bronchitis of 2018! But at that time, I had just quit my day job to focus full-time on singing, and it almost felt like the world telling me, “See? You should’ve stayed a legal secretary.” Upper respiratory infections are NO JOKE.
When I drooled on someone’s head on stage. I was in Rosina at the Skylight, playing Pilar, the slutty landlady, and at one point, the soprano ties a scarf in my mouth and leads me across the stage to a blindfolded man singing a love song (he’s singing to the soprano, but I think he’s singing to me). Well, the scarf hit my tongue in just the right way to make me salivate. So I’m sucking back this mouthful of drool the whole time, trying frantically to keep it in my mouth – and just as I get on top of the baritone – I failed. Fortunately, he was wigged (and still blindfolded) and wasn’t aware of it. I was totally humiliated!! Although honestly, Pilar probably would drool on someone in the throes of passion. She was not a tidy woman.
When I had violent abdominal cramps while wearing spandex in A Cudahy Carolers Christmas and wound up going up on a line and breaking character for the first and only time in my life. That sounds hilarious but….
This one hurts the most and is the most personal,
and I think it is why it was my last stage performance in Milwaukee.
Possibly TMI ahead.
It wasn’t just cramps. I wasn’t just in violent pain. I had some serious digestive issues. And there was one bathroom and it was located backstage. There was another in the lobby, but it only had one toilet, so the audience literally had to come backstage during intermission to use the bathroom. The other alternative was to run out the backstage door into the cold night air in what was a sketchy neighborhood and run around the block to get to the lobby. In costume.
The only time you could flush the backstage toilet during the show was during a laugh line or thunderous applause. By this point in the run (no pun intended), I knew where those moments were, so during the first act, it wasn’t a problem.
The second act was a farce and there was literally NO time to go the bathroom. (Especially when you didn’t know just how long it was going to take …. ) Entrances and exits were lightning quick. I was in such agony and I barely had a moment to catch my breath, I had serious brain fog, I’d actually lost my balance and swayed backwards during the first act finale, and that’s when it happened, right toward the end of the second act:
I walked out on stage and said a line and it was like I was disembodied, watching myself say the line, and I thought, “That was wrong,” so I said it again. And this time, I did say it wrong. So I actually stomped my foot and said it a third time. I watched myself do it in horror. So did the rest of my cast. And the director was in the audience that night because we were doing a photo shoot the next day and she wanted to see which scenes she wanted to capture. She was not pleased with me.
I had no idea why I had done this. I had 20 years of performing experience in my life up to that point, and I had never done anything even remotely like this. Just a few shows earlier, I had my thumb pop out of joint right before my entrance and managed to go on, deliver lines, sing an entire song, and then go off stage and pop my thumb back into place (the joys of being double jointed!).
In my first role, as Princess Margaret in The Student Prince, I literally got kicked in the head during my song by dancers trying to avoid broken glass on the stage – and kept singing.
But this was the first and only time I allowed something to affect me to the point where it was not just a mere distraction but resulted in a totally unprofessional action. And I was too embarrassed to explain anything other than mutter an apology and something about having cramps. I didn’t want to tell them that it was more than that.
(I’m still using euphemisms – perhaps this is just too personal – but I’m not comfortable using anything else in this case.) But the result was that:
I’m pretty convinced that the director thought I was drunk.
Of course, I was not. And honestly, it wasn’t the kind of show where I was being challenged to sing complex arias in a foreign language and needed my wits about me.
I was singing Christmas parodies with dirty lyrics. I could have had wine or beer with dinner and it would have no effect on the technique required to perform this show. I’m not denigrating the show – but we’re not talking about Shakespeare or Mozart here. If I could sing “Wanda’s Glamourland” with a dislocated thumb, surely I could sing it after having a beer.
But I had had nothing to drink before the show. And I was not drunk. But – if I were watching myself from the director’s perspective, I would say, “That woman is drunk.”
No, that woman really has to go to the bathroom and she can’t.
And I didn’t have the guts (again, no pun intended) to tell anyone that. I thought it was a personal failure for me to not be in control of my body, and it was a professional failure for me to respond the way I did. I wasn’t even able to tell anyone what was happening until a few years later. And then it sounded like an excuse to me.
So maybe she thought I was drunk (again, nope). Maybe she thought I was a bad actor (nope). Maybe she thought I was nuts (perhaps, but that wasn’t why)..
All I can say is that I never got another stage gig in Milwaukee again in the subsequent 9 years I stayed there. Because that lack of professionalism, no matter what the trigger, bit me in the butt. Word travels fast, and I’m pretty sure that incident was the turning point in my Milwaukee performing career. I did not have a “second act” there.
But I have it here. And it hasn’t ended yet. I just moved to a different stage – in location, and in my life.
Look at so-called “failures” as not-victories; they could be the result of clumsiness, or bad positioning, or illness. They could result from a lack of focus or technique, but they all are opportunities for growth, if you recognize the lessons you can learn from them.
When something happens that might be considered a failure, remember that it doesn’t mean that you are a failure. Something happened. Let it go and get up again. Whether it’s from a literally spill on the stage or from a bad line reading, get up.
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Do you have an amusing (or horrifying) story to tell about a performing experience of yours? How did you overcome it? Tell me in the comments!
I was reviewing my blog notes for inspiration, and came across some things that I had written up for the Singer’s Journey course I took in 2021. I’ve drawn from these before, most recently in What’s on Your Life Playlist?, in which I looked at music that influenced my life.
Today I want to talk about a couple of the personal victories I’ve had in my life (so far) that completely changed the direction of my life.
When I moved to DC the first time, my ex-husband talked me up to people he worked with as being this great opera singer. I had done a few operas but my vocal technique was in terrible shape. I had studied with a teacher in Wisconsin who wasn’t the right fit for me and I was just not singing well. Well, someone he spoke to knew someone at Washington Opera and they called ME to invite me to do an audition. I didn’t know what to do! Do I turn it down? Maybe I’m not as bad as I think? I had a lesson set up the day before my audition with a new teacher (Marianna Busching) but I really only had one aria that was even semi-passable.Well, I was as bad as I thought. I got through to the end and Martin Feinstein (the then-artistic director) got up and left. Ed Purrington (the managing director) spoke to me and said, “There’s a voice in there, but you need a good teacher.” I told him that I’d just started working with someone (again, literally the day before the audition), and he said she was a good choice and he looked forward to hearing me again.
A year later, I auditioned again and got into the chorus of La Forza del Destino. During the initial rehearsals, they held auditions for a chorus bit. I auditioned – not knowing it paid extra, just thought it be fun to do, and figuring I didn’t have a chance – and got it! I wound up singing with them for 7 seasons, doing the big shows, the smaller ones that were a little more musically demanding, chorus bits, solo bits, and finally a supporting role in the world premiere of Dream of Valentino. (And now I’m singing with them again!)
After moving back to MKE (and thinking all that DC/Baltimore work and the Peabody MM (also the result of studying with Marianna in the first place) would result in my being Mezzo Queen of the Midwest), I found myself doing a fraction of the work I’d done in the preceding nine years out east. I was supposed to do Augusta in a production of The Ballad of Baby Doe and the performance fell through. [That’s another story – it was actually much more convoluted than just that.] On the day I found out about it falling through, I realized it was the deadline for the NATS Intern Program. I quickly pulled together materials and sent them off just in time to make the deadline. Again, I didn’t think I had a chance – they only chose 12 people, and I was a private teacher, and most of the people they chose at that time were college-affiliated. About 2 weeks later, I received a letter inviting me to participate. It was the best thing I ever did at that point. I had the chance to learn from great teachers and to prove to myself that I was good at this!!
What are the personal victories that you’ve had that have changed your life’s trajectory? How did they come about? Did you seek them out or were you in the right place at the right time? Tell me about them in the comments!
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I’ll be dropping my summer offerings next weekend before I leave for vacation. If there’s something you’re interested in learning about, contact me and I’ll be in touch.
Whether you are singing in a school or community theater production, going to audition for a college program, or singing in a church or community choir, the thing that will set you apart is an attitude of professionalism.
I’ve written before about being a good colleague, and that’s a large part of it. Show respect for them and for what they bring to the table, and don’t make it all about you. Especially if they don’t know you yet. Listen. Behave in an exemplary manner and don’t make excuses.
About a month and a half ago, someone posted a question in the NEW New Classical Singer’s Forum on FB (I forget what happened to the original “New Classical Singer’s Forum”):
If you are an opera singer that is successfully and consistently getting roles, what are you doing to get them? Can you dig all the way back into college for me and go step by step with how you got from being a college kid who wanted to sing opera to being a professional opera singer that consistently gets work?
There were many intelligent responses, but I was particularly impressed with one from soprano and voice teacher Davida Kagen of Washington State. Ms. Kagen has had an impressive opera career and teaching studio for a number of years. (And in a picture on her website from her days at the Zurich Opera Studio, she is sitting next to my cousin-by-marriage, Susan Pombo-Ball!) With Ms. Kagen’s permission, I am posting her response here (bolding mine):
Study hard
Know your stuff
Be a very good actor, along with being an adequate musician
Be courageous
Trust yourself
Develop a thick skin
Take the craft seriously, but, not yourself too much
Always be ready for anything
Be in the right place at the right time
Be good enough to attract a sponsor, an agent for representation
Be prepared, on time, a great colleague who people love to work with
[These are] just a few of the qualities that get you noticed. Having a beautiful voice is only a very small part of it, but that helps as well.
With the exception of being an actor/musician, these all correspond to things you need to succeed in any other profession. Check out another blogpost I just read about the Six Traits of Professionalism. Really, it’s the same thing.
I would like to add
Don’t show off/draw attention to yourself*
Don’t apologize (unless you’ve actually hurt someone) or make excuses – particularly in advance of what you’re about to do
Be a generous colleague but don’t offer unsolicited/unwelcome advice/suggestions!
*I know this seems incongruous to being a performer,
but there’s a difference between standing out and sticking out
Performing is a team activity, whether or not you are a principal artist or in the chorus. In order to work well with others, you must show respect to them for their time, their ability, as well as being the best artist/human being you can be.
You may get hired once for your beautiful voice, but if you don’t back it up with the professionalism required, you won’t get hired back
You might not even get hired/accepted to a program if you don’t behave professionally in the audition – to everyone you meet, not just the audition panel. EVERYONE COUNTS.
You stand out by being the most professional: “Look at the work.”
You stick out by being the least professional: “Look at ME!” Which will you choose?
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If you’re ready to choose a professional attitude toward your vocal development (even if being a professional performer is not necessarily on your radar), find out how to work with me
and stay tuned for summer lesson options!
When you wish upon a star (Disney’s Pinocchio) – all you have to do is really be sincere and you’ll get it!
I wish (aka Prologue, Into the Woods) – in this case, the wishes seem unlikely but most everyone gets them – but should they?
There is a phrase, “Be careful what you wish for – you might get it!” The idea behind this is that you might find out that it’s really not what you want or not all that it’s cracked up to be, or that it leads to more headaches than it’s worth. That’s what Tzeitel is trying to tell her sisters in Matchmaker (one of the songs in our upcoming studio showcase!). And it’s definitely the case for all the wishers in Into the Woods – Cinderella gets her Prince (meh); The Baker and his Wife get their child but parenthood is hard; The Witch gets beauty but loses her powers; Rapunzel gains her freedom but loses her mind (and, ultimately, her life).
Seth Godin has another interpretation of that phrase:
Wishes are wonderful. But they are seeds for action. You have to take steps to implement them. And if your wish involves a successful career in the performing arts (whether that’s being a star or working regularly as a chorister, in small roles with big companies or big roles with small companies – i.e., my performing career), there are steps you need to take. Steps that involve study, and spending money, and giving up things because you have a gig, or rehearsal.
And there’s always the possibility that, no matter how much work you put into making your wish come true – it won’t.
That’s when this can happen.:
There are no genies or fairy godmothers to make our wishes come true, and no matter how many pennies we throw in a wishing well, making your wishes come true requires hard work on your part. And sacrifice. And change.
Are you willing to put in the work and effect the change that you need to fulfill your dreams? And if you do, are you willing to accept the outcome either way? And if that outcome turns out to be not what you want – whether you reach the goal or not – what will be your next step? (And don’t say “wishful drinking” – that doesn’t solve anything.)
******** If you’re ready to do the work to make your wishes come true, find out how to work with me!
Summer lesson registration opens April 23.
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Generally, being a copycat is frowned upon (just ask 
