White Knuckles
Oct. 19th, 2012 08:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missroseroseI posted on Twitter last night about how much I love the acronym "FFS". It works on multiple levels - both in what it stands for, and as an onomatopoetic rendition of the sound you're likely making at the time. Fffssss.
This entry has, in some ways, also been a personification of that acronym. I must've started it three or four times over the past week, but was never able to get much farther than a sentence or two before giving up in frustration. Apparently I write far more easily from the perspective of "I've made a decision and this is it" than from "I have choices to make and I'm not sure which way to go". I'm sure you all are shocked.
I don't really look it, especially with the colorful hair, but I'm nearly thirty now. (Quote from a new friend in Boston I was giving advice to, which may become one of my favorite things anyone's said to me ever: "When I first saw you, I thought you were maybe twenty-two. But now that I've talked to you, I'm wondering if you're closer to fifty." Hee. Stealth wise-woman.) While being a twentysomething has been a fun bit of self-exploration, if there's a defining emotion for my experience with it, it's probably fear. Not paralyzing all-consuming fear, necessarily, but perfectly prudent types of fear - fear of getting lost, of doing the wrong thing, of people assuming incorrect things about me, of running out of money. And, perhaps most importantly, of failing at things I really want to do. And that last has induced some pretty paralyzing fears: Singing. Theatre. Writing. Learning guitar. Performing. Going to a proper performing school, as opposed to just a state college. Living in a city. To paraphrase a comment I made in an earlier post, the way I knew I really wanted to do all these things was how completely terrifying I found them.
What's changed? Honestly...I'm not certain I can answer that question. I can describe the effects: I went to Boston, visited an old friend and made several new ones, explored a little on my own, and had acres more confidence than I ever have before when in a new place, let alone when in a new place alone. (Admittedly, a certain amount of that was probably owing to Boston's public transit and Google Maps - hard to get lost when you just need to find the nearest tube station, and Maps has the most amazing integration with public transit systems. Tell it where you want to go, and it tells you which bus to take, when it leaves, what station to get off at, where to walk. No futzing with schedules or figuring out routes. Brilliant.) I've started playing guitar (only to find that I have a surprising knack for it - the girl I take lessons from said I was one of the fastest studies she's taught, at least when it comes to fingerpicking). And I've been looking into music schools. All of this is still scary, but I'm less afraid of failure than I was, which means the fear is thrilling rather than paralytic. Maybe I've just finally convinced myself that if I do fail, it won't be the end of the world - people will still care about me, I'll still be talented and capable and competent, and I'll be able to say that I've tried. Because honestly, it's kind of depressing being nearly thirty and not having much that I feel justifiably proud of even having tried to do.
On that note, I've decided I'm going to apply at Berklee College of Music, inconvenient geographical location and $150 application fee both be damned. Boston and I kind of hit it off, and I love the idea of a music school that focuses on jazz and modern styles rather than the traditional classical curriculum. Assuming they give me an audition (my credentials are not that great on paper), I'm pretty certain I can get in; the real question, though, is whether I'll be good enough for a full-tuition scholarship. ($50,000 a year in tuition. Fffssss. I don't care how prestigious your school is, that is not a price mere mortals can pay, and I'm sure as hell not taking it out in loans against a career as an artist.) They have seven Presidential (full tuition + housing) scholarships for incoming students each year, out of more than 4,000 applicants yearly. Better odds than winning the lottery, anyway, and it's at least theoretically merit-based. Judging by the video of their previous Presidential scholars, I think I've at least got a shot in voice. Maybe not so much on guitar, but I can keep taking lessons on the side.
Naturally, this all comes with its own set of complications. Brian is...not exactly thrilled at the idea of moving to Boston, as he's never been there and has few-to-no professional connections in the area. (For a few days it was particularly stressful, as he was interviewing for the position in Gresham, and I'm not sure how we might have worked moving to Oregon and then to Boston within a year or so. He didn't get the job, though, which is probably better in the long-term and definitely better for our pocketbook.) I'm hoping he'll come with me when I go for an audition and enjoy it as much as I did. If he doesn't, and on the off chance I do get that scholarship...well, that'll be an interesting day. But I'm willing to wait to cross that bridge until I come to it.
Anyway. This weekend's project - getting a video together to go with my application. Won't be much point in all this agonizing if they don't even give me an audition...
This entry has, in some ways, also been a personification of that acronym. I must've started it three or four times over the past week, but was never able to get much farther than a sentence or two before giving up in frustration. Apparently I write far more easily from the perspective of "I've made a decision and this is it" than from "I have choices to make and I'm not sure which way to go". I'm sure you all are shocked.
I don't really look it, especially with the colorful hair, but I'm nearly thirty now. (Quote from a new friend in Boston I was giving advice to, which may become one of my favorite things anyone's said to me ever: "When I first saw you, I thought you were maybe twenty-two. But now that I've talked to you, I'm wondering if you're closer to fifty." Hee. Stealth wise-woman.) While being a twentysomething has been a fun bit of self-exploration, if there's a defining emotion for my experience with it, it's probably fear. Not paralyzing all-consuming fear, necessarily, but perfectly prudent types of fear - fear of getting lost, of doing the wrong thing, of people assuming incorrect things about me, of running out of money. And, perhaps most importantly, of failing at things I really want to do. And that last has induced some pretty paralyzing fears: Singing. Theatre. Writing. Learning guitar. Performing. Going to a proper performing school, as opposed to just a state college. Living in a city. To paraphrase a comment I made in an earlier post, the way I knew I really wanted to do all these things was how completely terrifying I found them.
What's changed? Honestly...I'm not certain I can answer that question. I can describe the effects: I went to Boston, visited an old friend and made several new ones, explored a little on my own, and had acres more confidence than I ever have before when in a new place, let alone when in a new place alone. (Admittedly, a certain amount of that was probably owing to Boston's public transit and Google Maps - hard to get lost when you just need to find the nearest tube station, and Maps has the most amazing integration with public transit systems. Tell it where you want to go, and it tells you which bus to take, when it leaves, what station to get off at, where to walk. No futzing with schedules or figuring out routes. Brilliant.) I've started playing guitar (only to find that I have a surprising knack for it - the girl I take lessons from said I was one of the fastest studies she's taught, at least when it comes to fingerpicking). And I've been looking into music schools. All of this is still scary, but I'm less afraid of failure than I was, which means the fear is thrilling rather than paralytic. Maybe I've just finally convinced myself that if I do fail, it won't be the end of the world - people will still care about me, I'll still be talented and capable and competent, and I'll be able to say that I've tried. Because honestly, it's kind of depressing being nearly thirty and not having much that I feel justifiably proud of even having tried to do.
On that note, I've decided I'm going to apply at Berklee College of Music, inconvenient geographical location and $150 application fee both be damned. Boston and I kind of hit it off, and I love the idea of a music school that focuses on jazz and modern styles rather than the traditional classical curriculum. Assuming they give me an audition (my credentials are not that great on paper), I'm pretty certain I can get in; the real question, though, is whether I'll be good enough for a full-tuition scholarship. ($50,000 a year in tuition. Fffssss. I don't care how prestigious your school is, that is not a price mere mortals can pay, and I'm sure as hell not taking it out in loans against a career as an artist.) They have seven Presidential (full tuition + housing) scholarships for incoming students each year, out of more than 4,000 applicants yearly. Better odds than winning the lottery, anyway, and it's at least theoretically merit-based. Judging by the video of their previous Presidential scholars, I think I've at least got a shot in voice. Maybe not so much on guitar, but I can keep taking lessons on the side.
Naturally, this all comes with its own set of complications. Brian is...not exactly thrilled at the idea of moving to Boston, as he's never been there and has few-to-no professional connections in the area. (For a few days it was particularly stressful, as he was interviewing for the position in Gresham, and I'm not sure how we might have worked moving to Oregon and then to Boston within a year or so. He didn't get the job, though, which is probably better in the long-term and definitely better for our pocketbook.) I'm hoping he'll come with me when I go for an audition and enjoy it as much as I did. If he doesn't, and on the off chance I do get that scholarship...well, that'll be an interesting day. But I'm willing to wait to cross that bridge until I come to it.
Anyway. This weekend's project - getting a video together to go with my application. Won't be much point in all this agonizing if they don't even give me an audition...
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no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 04:54 am (UTC)The music sounds exciting, and I'm eager to see what comes of the audition attempt.
This was your first time to Boston, so this might not mean anything to you yet, but if you do come to that bridge... It will be measured not in paces, but in Smoots. (Look it up. It's a good story. And it might help Brian understand Boston before he gets there, and make it even easier to love the place. Totally aside from the fact that my brother lives there with his family... Not that that would help, seeing as how I doubt my brother knows Brian!)
no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 05:11 am (UTC)will Google later when I'm not supposed to be cleaning the kitchen. :)
no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 05:19 am (UTC)Have fun cleaning said kitchen. Now, I've got "The Sourcerer's Apprentice" stuck in my head. (The Fantasia version, with Mickey.)
no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 07:14 am (UTC)The smoot story is fantastic. I'll have to check out the Harvard Bridge when I'm there next.
Bum, bum! bum-bum-bum bum, bum bum, bum bum, bum bum-bum-bum...that and OK Go got me through cleaning the kitchen and vacuuming the house. Many thanks. :)
no subject
Date: 2012-10-20 12:19 pm (UTC)My first instinct was to grab Jesse's hand to dance. Then I realized I was in a concert venue (well, a cafe with a stage?) and I got shy. Jesse isn't shy, though, and she had the same thought... So 30 seconds in, I find myself dancing with her to this guy singing his song. We got so many compliments afterward! It's funny... In the world of swing & blues dancers, I'm nothing phenomenal. But in a room full of people that don't dance, my dance partner of 15 years and I can kick some serious ass! :-D