Ain't Over Until the Thin Lady Sings

If you love something, let it go.

marissabloom — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 08:09:14 +0000

Possessions. We all have them. We all wish we had more of them. We all often define ourselves by them. So, what happens when they are taken away from us? Often we lose our feeling of self-worth. We feel as if a part of ourselves was taken right along with it. At least that was how I felt when my wallet was stolen last week…… And then today when my car was broken into. Both were completely unrelated acts, but they happened so close together that I feel hit pretty hard by the curve-balls that the universe is throwing my way. So, this brings into sharp perspective my attachment to two of my most important possessions in my life: my wallet and my car. A week after the wallet was stolen, almost all of the items have been replaced. A few silly old ID cards from the past were lost for good, but, in the end, does that really matter? What is my attachment to these tiny pieces of plastic that I clutch to my body and carry with me everywhere? Do they make me a better person? A kinder, more loving friend? A better teacher? A more sympathetic human being? No. Sure, they help me to pay the bills, but the world is not over when I have to spend a few weeks without them. As for my car…. when I first saw her, it was love at first sight. Ever since I can remember, I had a savings account at a local bank and I would put in money (sometimes as little as $.50 at a time). As I walked out of the bank, I would always think, “this is for college and for a blue VW Beetle with a moonroof.” At the age of 17, I was blessed with the ability to put a down payment on my dream car.

Me and my baby on our first day together

Ever the fastidious (and a bit OCD) owner, every scuff in the paint was a travesty; every dent was a personal offense that I hastily attempted to cover up. That car was my baby and I considered her to be me in vehicle form. As she aged and began to have bigger bumps and bruises, I started to panic. And now, my car is filled with broken glass in every nook and cranny. Her entire speaker system is busted and the dashboard is a mess. Her door is dented and scuffed from where the criminal climbed through the window. Her seats are covered in mud and scuffs from where he crawled all over her trying to find something to take. My baby is beginning to fall apart. What did I do wrong? What could I have done to prevent this from occurring? The answer: nothing…. short of living the life of a yogic hermit in the mountains somewhere, free of possessions and money.

My baby violated and broken.

Often times, we do this with our own bodies too. A smile line appears on our faces and we think “WHY???? What did I ever do to deserve this?” Well, at one point of time you must have been happy. That’s what you did. Shame on you. Why didn’t you plan ahead!? Life is hard. Life causes scrapes, bumps, and bruises (and yes, sometimes even a few wrinkles.) But does that mean it isn’t worth living? My car has given me a safe haven throughout my years of college. We have shared amazing trips and crazy experiences. It stands to reason that her own life experience would show on her body just as mine does. In the grand scheme of things, bad things are bound to happen no matter how much good you try to do in this world. You can’t control the world any more than you can stop the sun from shining. What really matters is how you bounce back and how you grow and learn from your experiences. And, boy, have I experienced quite a lot……. Hey, is that a new wrinkle?

The Man in the Mirror

marissabloom — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 07:28:07 +0000

Everyday most of us glance in the mirror. We check to see that our hair isn’t a frizzy mess; we make sure that there isn’t anything stuck in our teeth; and we judge our physical appearances. It’s human nature for us to compare ourselves to others. We find a freckle, a dimple, flabby triceps, and we obsess over these insignificant details which others somehow overlook. In pictures of ourselves, that one blemish is all that we see. In videos of ourselves, that’s all we focus on. The thought becomes ingrained in our psyche that if this one problem were fixed, our lives would somehow be better. So, we go on extreme diets. We get plastic surgery. We apply creams and balms and strange gooey products. Or, we simply live with this nagging negative self-image. No matter how many people tell us that they don’t even see our perceived “problem” with our appearance, we cannot let it go. We live in a world of comparisons: where the “ideal” body is plastered across every magazine page and tv show. They show women whose bodies are far below the healthy fat percentage and who have barely enough muscle to lift a spoon to their mouths. They show men whose muscles are so huge and inflexible they can’t bend over to pick something off the floor. And yet, this is somehow considered ideal. Products call to us from every infomercial and drug store shelf promising to make us taller, shorter, thinner, bulkier, bustier, younger-looking….. the list goes on. They all vow to make you something you are not, which can only lead to a lost sense of who you are. Comparing yourself with others wastes the unique individual that you have become. Why try to rid yourself of the things that make you, you? That dimple in your chin, that uniquely shaped nose, those tiny feet, that odd freckle: those are the things that represent you. Wear them with pride. So, the next time you look at the man in the mirror, smile at the beautiful, unique, amazing person that you are and revel in the fact that no one else in this world looks quite like you.

The Real World of Opera

marissabloom — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 03:48:50 +0000

A woman is being held prisoner in her own bedroom with her son as her only companion. Her husband has just been killed in a hostile take-over of the country. The man who was responsible for her husband’s death is in love with her; yet she still is holding strong to the memory of her beloved departed. Her sister-in-law who had previously spurned the advances of the killer is now asking for his love, but he refuses. To complicate matters, the sister promises her love to the man’s best friend who only wants her for her rank and money. Furthermore, the dead man is actually alive and well and he returns from hiding just in time to see his wife give in to the man who supposedly killed him.
No, this is not the plot of the latest reality tv show drama; instead, it is the story of Rodelinda Handel’s baroque opera, newly returned to the Met stage. The drama, the angst, the anger, and the backstabbing is all there. It’s the Real World series from the 1700′s. Each glance is shooting daggers and each hand is slapping the face of someone else. There is pillow punching, eaves dropping, dramatic slamming of things, and destruction of property. Temper tantrums abound in this production as the spider web of relationships unfold.
While we all think that soap operas and reality tv were the first to bring the melodramatic, entangled web of relationships and life to the public, it is not a recent media ploy. The earliest art forms all dealt with the real drama of life. Be it Shakespeare, classic Greek tragedies, or Baroque opera, the foundation of each of these stories lies in the reality of life, relationships, and the complications that arise. Yes, this drama is often times magnified to the extreme; but it is still within the realm of possibility. So, why do we love watching others’ drama so much? Perhaps it is to make our own lives feel more exciting and important. Or, perhaps it is to put our own problems into perspective. Whatever the reason, the drama of life will go on to entertain us for the rest of our lives. But, before you turn on that TV, consider visiting your local opera company or a met broadcast instead. For who needs reality tv when you have the opera house? I sure don’t.
The next Met live in HD production will be Faust by Gounod on Sunday January 15th at 2 PM at the Cal Poly Performing Arts Center sponsored by Opera San Luis Obispo. Call 888-233-2787 for ticket information.

The Joy of Singing

marissabloom — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 07:51:08 +0000

The other evening I was watching Julie and Julia and I was struck by the utter bliss and enjoyment that Julia Child (expertly played by Maryl Streep) had while cooking. Eyes rolled back while catching a whiff of buttered fish, Julia’s face glowed with a smile that can only represent ecstasy. She truly found the joy of cooking. While watching this, I thought to myself, “If only I could be that happy while singing.” Often times I become obsessed with the technical details as the voices, critics, and teachers in my head scream at me: “lift your soft palate! Release your tongue tension! Relax your shoulders! Remember to breathe here! That note didn’t have enough resonance! You fumbled a word there!” This endless stream of thoughts make it difficult to focus on enjoying the music. Sometimes the external critics, adjudicators, judges, teachers, and coaches who pick apart every tiny detail of each song, sound, vowel, consonant, and utterance make you so focused on creating perfection that you forget to simply enjoy creating.

Tonight, for the first time in a long time, I simply enjoyed creating. At Steynberg Gallery, an adorable art gallery and small concert venue, I joined a storyteller, Russell Swanagon, for a collaborative show of Winter Songs and Stories. As usual, I entered the concert venue worrying about a few notes I was still unsure on, trying to implement new vocal technique changes, the small audience turn-out, and other such things. Then I opened my mouth and just sang. I felt the warmth, compassion, and appreciation radiating from the small by mighty audience. I felt a profound connection with my amazing pianist Sarah Broomell. I found joy.

Maybe I didn’t make much money from this concert. Maybe I messed up a few notes here and there. But everyone left the concert with smiles on their faces and a cheerful demeanor for the start of the holiday season. I know that I did. I realized that this is why I sing, why I want to sing, and how I find joy in my singing……………. now I just have to work on finding that same joy in my auditions! Well, I think I just figured out what my new year’s resolution will be.

Singing at Steynberg Gallery with Sarah Broomell at the piano

Shifting Perspective

marissabloom — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 05:16:10 +0000

It’s that time of year again. The holiday season is upon us and with it comes the hustle and bustle and a to-do list a quarter of a mile long. There are events and parties to attend, holiday shopping to do, houses to decorate, and, if you are a performer like myself, extra holiday shows to put on. I love this time of year; yet, it always seems like there aren’t enough hours in the month. I tend to over-schedule myself while running frazzled from place to place. This month is only a microcosm of my attitude towards the rest of the year. With my schedule book chained to my side 24 hours a day, I find myself scheduling literally every minute of every day. 6:00 AM wake up, 6:30 AM yoga class, 8:00 Shower, 9:00 Work at Flower Shop, 1-2:30 teach yoga class, 3-7 Teach Voice Lessons, 7-8:30 Practice Voice, 9-10:30 Perform at local coffeehouse, 11:00 sleep. Often times, I find myself calculating the number of hours I worked and I do not feel productive unless I have worked 12+ hours. I wear my long work days as a badge of honor and pride. But, is this truly the way to measure your days? To always be thinking of the things that you HAVE to do and the number of hours you HAVE to work? To be thinking of the money that you NEED to make and how long you HAVE to work in order to make that amount? Wouldn’t it be better to realize all of the things that you get to do each day? Today I get to take a yoga class, create lovely floral arrangements which will make someone, somewhere very happy, teach yoga and change lives, share my love of the human voice with several beautiful and talented students, and perform with other talented musicians in front of an appreciative audience. Most people would love to be able to do just one of these things on a daily basis. How blessed I am to fill my hours with such life-enriching activities. So, instead of thinking about chipping away at the hours of my day, I will think about all of the things I get to do. A shift in perspective is all it takes to live in the present and enjoy the gifts that we have each been given… even if we sometimes have to work for them.

Transmitting Opera Around the World

marissabloom — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 06:02:00 +0000

This afternoon, as I stepped into the beautiful Performing Arts Center of San Luis Obispo to catch the encore presentation of Don Giovanni, live in HD from the Met, I thought back to my first Met broadcast 4 years ago. It was only the second season these broadcasts were made available and I was in my senior year as a vocal arts major at USC. The father of a student at the USC film school was involved in creating the technology used in the transmissions, so we were able to see the live shows for free at the USC theater. When I attended my first Met Broadcast, a beautiful and heart-wrenching portrayal of La bohème, on April 5th of 2008, I knew that the face of opera would be forever changed. No opera glasses were required and we could literally see Angela Gheorghiu’s tonsils as she sang her soaring high notes in the role of Mimi. I looked around the theater that day at the collection of professors, music students, film students, and opera lovers: all riveted to the movie screen as we became a part of the action on stage. Many of my film student friends had never seen an opera before in their lives, and yet, they were completely hooked. No one was asleep; no one was yawning; no one was checking their watches or leaving at intermission. It was in this instant that I found a spark of hope for the future of opera. Opera was keeping up with the times by connecting to smaller communities and younger generations. Opera was growing and moving forward. Opera was staying alive.

The next year, I entered my grad school in West Virginia. A drastic change from the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles, West Virginia left me missing my $20 student tickets to the LA opera and the constant immersion in the operatic repertoire. Feeling quite homesick and culturally starved, I was overjoyed to find out that the local movie theater would be transmitting the Met broadcasts that year. There I was, sitting in a tiny 75-seat movie theater, getting lost in the intensity of Solome and knowing that thousands of others in the world were doing the exact same thing…. even if there were only 5 others sharing the experience in my theater’s audience.

Today, as the performance of the Met Broadcast Don Giovanni wrapped up, I gazed around the Performing Arts Center at the crowd of 315 opera-lovers: a group representing all ages, economic backgrounds, and education levels. Some were dressed to the nines in full tuxedos; some were wearing jeans and t-shirts. Yet, we all laughed together, applauded together, gasped when flames shot from the stage, and, best of all, we all couldn’t get enough. This operatic experience was creating a community, creating new opera-go’ers, and bringing people together through the arts: if only over a electronic signal. I find comfort in knowing that wherever I go, I will never be more than 60 miles away from a Met broadcast transmission… and the community that broadcast creates.

Control

marissabloom — Sun, 20 Nov 2011 17:54:51 +0000

Whether we give it up, take it, lose it, have issues with it, or go out of it, we all deal with control on a daily basis. Many of us want to control our lives, the lives of others, our schedules, the weather… you name it. But, there are some things that can’t be controlled and it will rip apart our psyches and make us crazy if we try. Nowhere is this more prevalent than at a singer’s audition. We try to control the voice type the judges need, the music they will want to hear, the hairstyle they will want to see, the height and weight of the singer the want, the clothes they want you to wear, etc. We tie ourselves into knots trying to gain control over a situation that is as much luck as it is skill. It is as if you tried to take control over the lottery system “if I buy 9 $16 tickets at 9:16 AM on September 16th, I will have beaten the system and will win millions.” Most people would call the above statement crazy, but would not bat an eye if a singer said “if I open with this piece, then they will pick this piece from my other 4 arias” or “if I wear this red dress, they will pick a Carmen aria” or, even worse, “if I sing this aria perfectly, I will win.” In the end, though, the entire audition process is out of your control. They may not pick you simply because the judge had a stomachache at the time of your audition. Try controlling that. When we realize that we must give up our need for control, we learn to just enjoy the process. We perform because we love to perform, regardless of the outcome. We control the one thing that we can, how we feel about our performance: and that feels good.

Yoga vs. Singing…. the Yin and Yang of my Life

marissabloom — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 06:25:57 +0000

It has now been 2 months since I have re-entered the “real” world and left my happy, little yoga teacher-training bubble. It is amazing how the time flies, how new doors have opened, and how some pesky old habits have clawed their way back into my life as I diligently fight back with all of my might. As my singing career begins to amp up again with auditions and competitions looming over the horizon, I find myself over-thinking, over-scheduling, and putting too much focus into creating the ever-illusive perfect performance. Worry begins to knock at my door and he brings his friends Fear, Anxiety, and Stress. I tell him to go away, but he forcibly breaks down the door and takes over. What’s a girl to do when this gang takes over your house?

You build a new house and let them keep the old one.

So, tonight I have decided to build myself that new house. A new way of thinking and approaching singing (picture the clouds parting as the rays of sunshine stream down and the Halleluiah Chorus plays in the background). What is is about yoga which puts me so at ease? What is it about singing which has, in the past, turned my body into a knot of tension and my mind into a jumble of self-loathing, fear, and doubt? How can I meld these two worlds to create a sort of “Zen and the Art of Singing”?

Yoga is the freedom to be who you truly are without any judgement or criticism. You fall out of a pose, you get back up and try again. You can’t do something, you take a variation of the posture. You laugh at your mistakes and move on.

Technically, all of these things can and should be applied to being a singer. But, often times, they are not. I should have the freedom to be the singer that I am right now, at this moment, without any judgement or criticism. But, on a daily basis we are being judged by anyone who hears us…. be it for the better or worse. We are judged by our teachers, by auditors, by audience members, by the maintenance staff, by people who hear about the performance 2nd hand, and worst yet, ourselves. If you constantly feed off of this cycle of praise and rejection, your life will be an exhausting roller coaster of ups and downs. It’s enough to make you want to get off the coaster and take a nice kiddy-ride, 9-5 desk job. But, if we can learn to sing, or do anything for that matter, as a meditative practice purely as a way to feed our souls, we will find that the criticism simply does not matter anymore. If they love us, great. If they don’t love us, well, then that’s great too. Just like falling out of a yoga pose, when you forget a word or make a pitch mistake, it is not the end of the world. This is not a matter of life and death. You simply pick up where you left off and move on. I used to be utterly devastated when I would forget a word. I became so consumed with fear of a memorization slip that I would race through my words in a blind panic before each concert. Then, of course, in my fluster I would forget a word which would make me even more panicked. Then my focus was gone, tension crept in, and the performance was never my best. Why anticipate future discomfort? Why worry about things which might not even come true? Things happen. We all have those days. You just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again. Laughing at your mistakes is something that I really need to pull from my yoga practice into my singing career. We all make mistakes. If we didn’t, how boring would our lives be? The other day in my private practice, I literally fell onto my face in bakasana, crow pose, a arm-balance posture which requires all of your weight to be balanced on your two hands. After falling to the floor, I simply burst out laughing at my face-plant. Conversely, in my singing life, I have never laughed at my mistakes. Usually I berate myself within an inch of my life, then head straight for the practice room to practice until I can do it right at least a thousand times consecutively. Now, really, in the grand scheme of things, which mistake is more life or death here? I would have to say the one where all of my body weight is being sustained by your wrists and your head is dangling dangerously close to the floor. You can break your wrists, break your nose, tweak your elbow, and hurt your shoulder in bakasana if done incorrectly. If I forget my words during a song, it is highly unlikely that a part of my body will be broken, hurt, or harmed. Perspective. It’s a beautiful thing.

So, my new house is built. I just have to remember to pick up some change of address labels the next time I am at the post office because I don’t want to have to bother Worry, Fear, Anxiety, or Stress for my mail.

Happiness is a Choice

marissabloom — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 05:56:11 +0000

Everyday we make the choice to smile, to frown, to let little annoyances pass us by, or allow them to ruin our lives. Happiness is a choice that we must keep choosing. It is a right that we have to keep fighting for. How many times do we allow ourselves to be caught up in the drama of getting cut-off on the freeway or being glared at by a complete stranger? How many times do we go into a vicious downward spiral simply because of singing a wrong note, forgetting a word, or not winning an audition? Should this one simple event have such a cataclysmic effect on how we perceive life, how we treat others, and how me treat ourselves? Are these little annoyances really that important? What would happen if we just let life happen and be glad to be alive to have these annoyances? Happiness is a choice; so, choose wisely.

Living someone else’s life: a week later

marissabloom — Sun, 04 Sep 2011 08:12:30 +0000

A week ago today I had my yoga certification in hand, coming off the last of 3 planes after a whirl-wind adventure of returning during a hurricane. In some ways it seems like only yesterday, and yet it feels like a different world and a different life. I definitely envy my fellow teacher trainers who were starting completely new lives post-teacher-training, in new locations with no set habits, friends, goals, or memories. Reintegration into your old life is a difficult process to say the least: especially when you are currently living in the town where you grew up. There is so much history there: so many memories, so many connections to my old thought processes, habits, and perceived ideas of what is important. This week has been a continual process of seeing old habits, patterns, and thoughts arise and then letting them go. On second though, perhaps those who are getting the chance to start fresh should envy me, for I am being thrown into the deep end with all of the tools to conquer deep-set mental blocks from as far back as my birth. It has been strange how little things are now jogging my memory: a tree in my old elementary school where I used to escape into a good book, a garden where my aunt used to make snapdragon flowers sing, a high school football game reminding me of cheering in the stands dressed in school colors. Where I once used to see the negative in each of these memories, I now only see the joy. As old negative thought patterns arise, I have learned to acknowledge their presence, then let them go. This week, as my mind began racing, worrying about money and how I would pay the bills next month, I literally screamed aloud “ENOUGH!” You know what? It worked. My brain actually stopped worrying- at least for a short while. Believe me, I’m as shocked as you. Another time the panic flared up as I began to think about my singing career for the first time after a 2 month hiatus. Instead of letting it get the best of me, I decided to do a 3 minute headstand. It worked so well, that I did that throughout the day whenever I felt myself slipping from my inner-calm. It’s amazing what changing your perspective (quite literally as you are turning your point of view upside down) can do.
Likewise, my concentration and communication skills have improved exponentially after this month leading a pure yogic life. While teaching voice lessons, I find that I am now completely there with my students: focused solely on their needs and improvement. I am in the moment, and that is a beautiful place to be. Today I visited an old friend who I have known since 6th grade. As she and her family asked me about my yogic experience, I had no idea what to say. How do you put into words everything that has changed, been let go of, or grown out of the ashes of my former being? Suddenly my mouth was talking without my mind even knowing it as I explained specific fears, conflicts, and stumbling blocks which are simply not there anymore. The amazing thing was that I didn’t even realize that those things were gone. Only here, in the moment, did I make that known to myself and to my friends. Life has changed for me. It is as if I am walking in someone else’s shoes and living someone else’s life; yet, the life is my own, the past experiences are my own, the goals and dreams are my own. I am just looking at them in a completely new light. I now fully own my life, my mind, my body, my soul, and my voice. Time will only tell where this new revelation will take me; but I am now fully prepared for the journey.

Your new life starts here.