The tortoise.  The snail.  The sloth. These days, these are the creatures with whom my artistic side identifies.

Adagio.  Andante.  Lento.  Largo.  All terms that address deliberation, space, slowness.  Also, intense presence….slow on purpose.

This is my struggle.  By design, as a musical mom, I must go slow.  Because I have my dream—my husband and kids, my happy home—I have to accept that my music comes second.  AND—because it is my SELF, it is always speaking to me.   I have done this dance now for years, and so I have attained a certain level of acceptance about this central tension.  Getting frustrated is inevitable, yet never seems to help.

My hairdresser, Heather, actually helped me with this recently.  And in a miraculous moment of lucidity, I was able to take in her words.  She pointed out how fortunate it is that I have found my passion.  How lucky I am to have this struggle, when so many people go their entire lives and never find the thing they love to do.

It comes when it comes.  Surrounded by the din of a 24/7, socially networked, internetted music culture that FEELS LIKE it only reflects back my irrelevance (because I just.can’t.crank it out faster), nonetheless I wait for the still, small idea.  My creative self is interrupted, squeezed in, shuffled out.  I watch and wait for opportunities to create, and I leap on them when they come.

Then:  The cheetah.  The falcon.  The shark.

Allegro.  Presto.  Vivace.