On Saturday, I posted an audition video for the YouTube Symphony.  For some reason, getting myself to complete this task became a monumental battle of will.  I struggled through the entire process, but I'm very happy that I stuck to it.
In 2009, YouTube Symphony held the first open call for audition videos.  The entire project was brand new and very much untested.  I thought it was a fascinating concept, use YouTube to find musicians from the entire globe then bring the winners to New York for a concert in Carnegie Hall with MTT.  
I loved the idea of creating a global community of classical musicians, of creating relationships through an on-line medium. I decided to enter.  Thus began my crash course in YouTube.  I had to find a way to record myself that I could upload easily, then I had to develop my channel.  It was a very steep learning curve.  I didn't make the finals that go around, but I did launch my tutorials.  I've been doing videos ever since and I've made incredible connections with people.
Oboists from all over the world have contacted me.  We've had dialogues about music and reedmaking and every topic under the sun.  My life is richer because of this project.  I've met composers and music enthusiasts.  I've even participated in some long-distance projects.
Naturally, when they announced YouTube Symphony II, I felt compelled to throw my hat in the ring again.  I had a strategy to correct some of the mistakes I made the last time around.  I found a better space and a better camera so the acoustics would be better.  
The challenge came with the preparation of the excerpts.  Even though I've played them a million times, when you're recording your perception changes.  You start listening so critically that it becomes difficult to just play.  It's like I have this secret hidden super-power called micromode.  Every nuance of pitch and timbre and rhythm get dissected and your confidence gets shredded in the process.  I became convinced that it was beyond me to create any recording I'd be willing to enter.  
Thankfully, I've been down this path before.  I was able to recognize my own ridiculousness and convince myself to simply follow through and complete the recording.  I made a conscious decision to finish it then I dragged my inner critic kicking and screaming into the church to play.  
I recorded both excerpts right off the bat in order to make sure I had at least one take of each on record.  Then I listened back and realized there might be some things that sounded ok.  That gave me the energy to keep going.  At the end of the session, I had several choices for each piece.  I wound up really enjoying the process of trying to let go and play as musically as possible.  Above all else, I wanted my performance to be enjoyable to the listener and to show my playing the way you would hear it in a concert.
I feel I was able to achieve that.  None of my takes were flawless, but I think they're an accurate account of who I am as an English horn player.
Ultimately, I found a few different takes that I liked for each excerpt.  At that point, I turned complete control over to my incredible husband who was willing to be my second set of ears.  I trust his judgement, and I knew he wouldn't let me submit the recording if it didn't reflect an accurate picture of my abilities.  He actually chose a different take than I did for the Roman Carnival (we agreed on the Dvorak).  I used his choice and have ultimately come to agree with him that it was the best plan.
Now I'm waiting to hear if I'll be selected as a finalist.  I certainly hope I am, but even if I'm not I'm really glad I applied.  The best part was Sunday morning, when I woke up to a slew of supportive comments from other viewers.  It feels really good to know that people have enjoyed listening.  That's why I love this project.  MTT and the YouTube Symphony really have created a global on-line community for our art form.  It's amazing and it's happening right alongside videos of kittens falling off of Roombas.  How cool is that?

Running is good for me.  It's good for me because I'm healthier for doing it, but also because I'm bad at it.  I'm slow, I have lots of injuries to coddle (leftover from my dancing days), and it takes me ages to build up to a new distance.  It turns out that being bad at running is actually great for my mental health.
Last week, I did a 5K race with my colleagues at the Sarasota Orchestra.  We all started together, but within minutes they were pulling away from me.  I kept running and even though I finished several minutes behind them I still managed to complete a personal best.  There was a part of me that envied their faster pace, but I stuck to running my own race.  I knew I wouldn't feel healthy or happy at the finish line if I pushed my limits too early.  I paced myself really well and was actually able to sprint to the finish line.  Sprinting at the end of a race was really fun and it felt amazing.  It didn't matter that I was way, way out of the medals.  I felt like an Olympian as I flew past the finish line.
A year ago, I couldn't run 200 feet without feeling like I was going to keel over.  I had asthma, I had shin splints.  It was painful.  However, I kept at it.  Now I can run for more than 3 miles and I've signed up for a half marathon.  Last night my husband even asked me how many marathons I plan on doing per year once I build to that distance.  Who knows?  The very fact that he thinks I'm capable of completing that distance makes me happy.  
Tomorrow morning I'll be doing my first five mile race.  This will be the longest distance I've attempted.  I plan to take walking breaks and my goal is to complete it feeling healthy and happy.  I'm not going to win an award, I'm not even going to run the whole way, but I know I'm going to have a great time and I plan on celebrating my new distance with copious amount of turkey.  I love that I can achieve my goal regardless of what the 3,000 other runners around me are doing.  
On the days that I train, I feel better.  My mood is better, my outlook on life improves.  When I go to races, that multiplies.  I tend to convince other people to race with me and that just makes it all the more fun.  Tomorrow my brother-in-law, husband and father are all going to be there.  In Sarasota, I was surrounded by friends.  It's a great way to spend time together.  I may be the turtle of the group, but I'm a very happy turtle.
 

I have been busy lately, busy traveling and playing and doing all sorts of performing, but very little practice.  I'm out of my routine, so I'm out of sorts.  Yesterday, when I went for a run, every song that came up on my Ipod had something to do with the oboe.  It skipped from my John Mack orchestral excerpts, to Tabuteau, to Tombeau de Couperin.  The onslaught was impressive.  I took it as a sign that I should get back in gear and get back to actually practicing and not just playing.  
The thing is, practicing is hard.  Especially after a string of performances.  Performing has an element of instant gratification.  You get one shot, you finish playing and people applaud.  
In practice, you repeat the same ten notes over and over and no-one applauds.  At best your cat leaves the room after glaring at you for disturbing her nap.
Still- the long term rewards for good practice are the best.  When you make a breakthrough and things finally start to click it feels amazing.  
I did spend time practicing yesterday.  There were no major breakthroughs or feelings that I accomplished anything new, but I'll try again today and tomorrow and the day after.  One of these days I will make a breakthrough and then it'll all be worth it.

This weekend, I had the great privilege of volunteering for the NY Marathon.  This event was absolutely mind-boggling in scope; over 45,000 runners covering all the boroughs of the city.  The route starts on Staten Island and ends in Central Park, 25.2 miles later.  Along the way. more than 6,000 people volunteers are posted throughout the city.  
I chose to work at the finish line distributing food bags.  I arrived at the park at 9:30 in the morning and checked in.  I received a volunteer t-shirt, bright orange volunteer pancho and credentials so I would be allowed into the highly secured finish area.  Then a coordinator walked us down to the food distribution area and we started working.  I didn't stop working until 7pm in the evening.  We passed out thousands of  food bags and countless apples.  
We were working side by side with red cross spotters and translators.  The translator from Spain was grabbing every Spaniard who passed for pictures.  If I work again next year, I'm going to brush up on "congratulations" in as many languages as possible.  It really  is an international event.
I was so impressed by the runners.  Most people were in pretty good shape.  Some needed help opening bottles of water and a few needed some medical aid, but the majority were in good spirits and moving well.  One woman said completing the marathon was tougher than giving birth to her four children.  That's really saying something.   Another racer, an older gentleman who I would never peg as a marathoner, told me I was his angel after I helped him open his bag and fish out his water.  I like being an angel.
The overall energy was so positive.  Many of the runners were raising money for charities.  My favorite was the man dressed in a full rhinoceros costume.  There were other great outfits as well; a cheese-head, a man in a kilt, several pink tutus, one woman entirely in ping (including pink hair) and a matador.  How do you run that far as a matador?  Or a rhino??  
I wound up hanging out with two other women about my age, we were total marathon groupies.  One of them, Deana has never run before, but she really wants to.  She dreams of running the marathon.  I told her how I started and how much fun 5K's are.  Half the battle is getting started.   
Since the race, I'm feeling totally inspired.  I had already signed up to do my first half in April and now I feel really motivated to train for it.  Hopefully that motivation won't desert me when it starts to snow.  
Would you believe it snowed in CT on Monday?? Already?  I don't have cold weather running gear yet.  Eek!  Thankfully the weather was perfect for the marathon.  Sunny and mid-40's.  It was amazing.  On the next day, however, it was rotten.  
Gracie Kitty is staying with my parents for a bit and they have a nice side porch.  Normally she loves to go out there and watch the world go by.  On Monday, she was having none of it.  They tried to let her out there but she took one look at the snow and went running back into the house.  Poor thing, leaving Florida has been a real shock for her.  Poor kitty.  Lucky me, however, I'm back in FL for a week with the Sarasota Orchestra.  I even got in a run this morning.  Two whole miles!  Only 24.2 to go and I can enter a marathon, perhaps even NY?  Hmmm, something to think about.

I've got a few concerts over the next week.  Drop by and say hello if you're in the area!  The first is with the Northeastern Pennsylvania Philharmonic.  We're performing tomorrow night at the Kirby center.  It's a great program, Barber Essay no.1, Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto and Dvorak Symphony no.8.  I'll be playing Principal on that concert so it'll be a rare opportunity to hear me give an A.  Hopefully I'll remember my tuner this time.
Then next week I'm back with the Sarasota Orchestra to play English horn on the first Masterworks concert of the season.  That's a mixed program including Barber's Madea's Dance of Vengeance, Strauss' Til. and Salome's Dance, Adams' Short Ride in a Fast Machine and a handful of other great stuff. 
I'm so excited to be playing so much Barber.  He's one of my absolute favorite composers and I think he's completely underplayed.  I'm glad to see he's coming back on the radar. 

Isn't it funny how the same issues keep popping up over and over in life?  Every time I think I've made progress, some opportunity comes along that challenges me in a slightly different way.  Old habits and concerns rise up from the dusty parts of my brain and demand I pay attention to them again.  
I've had a very comforting life over the last few years.  Being a tenured member of an orchestra allows you to unwind a bit, to take musical chances and know that you'll still have a job in the morning.  Once I got tenure, I didn't feel like I was under a microscope anymore.  If I had an off day, it was ok.  My job would still be there.  I was able to play with great ease and freedom. 
Now I'm back to freelancing and things feel very different.  Every time I play, I feel like the next job may hang in the balance.  In some ways, this pushes me to stay more on top of my game.  However, the added stress takes it's toll.  I get antsy and anxious.  When I harness that energy it's great.  When I don't, I wind up like Gracie in some of her more primal moments. 
That's the challenge that keeps coming back for me.  How do I ferret out my best playing, despite my discomfort when I feel I'm being assessed?  I know the answer, because this questions has come up many times for me before.  1) Check in with myself about my preparation.  Make sure I have all the bases covered. 2) Remember that everyone on stage is at the party with me.  We all have our own job to do and no one is paying as close attention to my playing as me.  So chill. 3) Chill.  Play the music the best I can and let the chips fall where they may.  4) Keep reminding myself  that regardless of what happens, I'll still be back at the reed desk the next morning.  I'll still be playing scales and trying to improve and if I'm lucky, I'll be one step closer to being the player I want to be.