Many emotions were stirred up in my head as I pulled out Schwantner’s Percussion Concerto score over the weekend. Each time I prepare this piece it brings me back to home base. The beginning of my journey.

In a way, it has become a staple piece for me. When I get back to it, I remember my roots. I remember why and how I got into all of this in the first place. Recalling each performance, and each preparation for that performance. Where I was, what was happening in my life. Who I was. I compare it to what I am.

But, the thing that I realize is that I am this music. I’ve become it. It has become me. We inter-are. It was the piece that set me on my path. And, it seems to come back each time I am about to set off in a new direction on my path. Or, sometimes, it saves me from myself and puts me back on the right path. It has the power to pull me out of a destitute state or out of post-performance depression.. It lures me back to reality. And I remember…

Pittsburgh, Chicago, Minnesota, Texas … [the beginning]

Mississippi. Jackson, Mississippi: 2006. It forced me to live. It made me remember who I was. It forced me to become who I am. It told me that if I give everything to it, and loose everything for it, that it would give it back to me.
Somehow–someday.

February, 2007. Lansing, Michigan. Sibby. It was the only thing that would bring me back from the sorrow of loosing Sibby. Colorado 2008. My first performance after the coma. A new path. New direction.

What it is this time, I cannot say. I suppose I won’t know until I perform it again next season.. But, I do know that my life always seems to come back to this concerto. Each time it returns, it has my utmost respect because part of me knows that I’m witnessing something amazing that I won’t fully realize until the next time it’s on my music stand.

Respect, and a bow Joseph Schwantner.

Lima, Ohio: Six weeks. Come witness it.

LP

This is an interview that was conducted in December 2010 after a performance at the Institute for Advanced Studies in Princeton, NJ. It is one of the most in depth interviews I’ve done in quite some time. If you’re interested, please give it a listen, and enjoy!

-LisaP.

Sometimes I long to have a “normal” life. Then I wonder what is “normal” anyway? My life is a practice. One long focused practice session. I wake up to music in my head. Then, I practice whatever upcoming music I have for hours and take a break only to practice yoga or run (which are interchangeable to me). Then– I practice more.

When beginning a new work the practice takes a lot of patience and concentration to learn correctly. This wears on me when I have so little time to learn so much. As most people, I’d much rather skip ahead and just do the fun part: Perform.

I used to dread this struggle. Now though, things are different. Without the struggle, the performance is meaningless, no? When you perform something you’ve struggled for and suffered in a way for, it makes it all that sweeter in the end. It’s a feeling of accomplishment that some never experience… For these moments, I am grateful. This is my life right now. It has been since I can remember. No time to rest. Full speed ahead. Although time passes in a much different way for me than most (behind a music stand and percussion instruments..), it is more fulfilling than I could ever put into words.

LM

In my life, for some reason, I notice things as they take on a metamorphosis from being a hardship and return having taken the form of what seems, in someway, to be a beautiful butterfly. What I’ve come to understand is that these small things usually stay the same while I continually work so hard at changing and trying to become better inside and out. Several of these moments over the last few weeks have occurred and I cannot say why or how but it has inspired me to write.

In 2007, you can look at my archive titled: February 15th, 2006. A simple poem. A poem that held so much meaning to me at the time. Tonight it returns to me in Andre Agassi’s Autobiography that I’ve been reading over the past two weeks. As I re-read it, many emotions were brought back, but I’m so different now. So changed. The poem is still inspiring, but more inspiring because I feel as though I went from seeing the meaning through someone else to realizing my own inner-potential through its meaning. At the last visit to that poem, I was at my weakest point. And now, I’m at my strongest.

In yoga class this Monday I found myself wondering why of all the poses, I still had not come to peace with full locust pose. For those who are not hatha yogis, it is a pose where you lift your arms and legs off the ground while lying on your stomach. Each time I would get to it, I would dread it, wondering, what is the point? What is the point in a pose where you don’t hold on to anything? How is this making me stronger?? And at that very moment, I realized the true meaning of that pose in my life. It is the last link. It is the pose I needed to understand. Letting go. Having nothing to hold on to, and still being able to fly. My body was ready, but my mind wasn’t so sure.

It is now.

This is my life. These are my wings. Now, is the time to fly. …

Come, my friends,
‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;

One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield

-from Tennyson’s “Ulysses”

LM

To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

August 9th, 2010

I just returned home from a performance with conductor, Victor Yampolsky, and the Peninsula Festival Orchestra. I feel a bit of the post performance depression setting in already, but those of you who know me, know that it only lasts until I’m on to the next performance or the next project…

It was the first time in a while that a road trip was involved. Most of the time I now fly to performances. When carrying the instruments back up to my studio, I often wonder what keeps me going. Why do I do this??

Then, I recall the performance. The music. The energy. The people. And I run back down the stairs to grab more gear. I can, so I must. And; I do.

Here are some shots from the road.

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LM