Day 14 – A Walk in the Snow Makes my skin glow I feel nervous at first – Will it get worse? Will I get stuck in a drift? Too much snow to shift? Does ice lie beneath? I grit my teeth I put on my warm hat And that is that.
Once I’m out There is nowt Can stop me From feeling giddy It’s all white It’s alright Don’t fight Snow’s delight
Snow’s amazing At transforming Even a mild Mannered man to a child- like state of play No more grey Clouds today May they stay away For ever and a day
HAPPINESS IS A JOURNEY NOT A DESTINATION.
For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life but there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one.
Souza
Eira has played a significant role in my musical and personal journey since we first met when she became professor of harp at the RNCM in 1992. I was in my 3rd year when she arrived fresh from her studies in the USA. She made such a strong impression on me with her crystal clear imaginative ideas on the shape she wanted the harp department to take. She was artistic director of two International Harpweeks which took place while I was a student. Both events were exceptional and exciting. It was a big deal to have the spotlight on the harp and that it was happening up North. I was studying with Frank Sternefeld at the time and I learnt so much from Eira. She initiated the RNCM harp ensemble and our smaller quartet, Fir Chlis with Mary Ann Kennedy, Manon Llwyd and Kathryn Rees. We had some amazing adventures and we went on tour in Wales – we were even on Welsh TV!
Fast forward some 14 years – I reconnected with Eira during a difficult time in my life and I asked to go and play for her. Off I went with my harp to her studio in Stockport for a consultation lesson. After an extremely encouraging but realistic lesson, she suggested I come to the RNCM to complete a masters degree. I said yes. She thought I was kidding. Thanks to her support, I enrolled at the RNCM as a mature student in 2007 and I was able to dedicate all my energy to the harp and music after a rocky period during which I came close to giving it all up.
FAITH
When you walk to the edge of all the light you have And take that first step into the darkness of the unknown You must believe that one of two things will happen:
There will be something solid for you to stand upon, Or, you will be taught how to fly.
Patrick Overton 1975
I looked forward to my weekly lessons with eager anticipation. Being held accountable was priceless. I was highly motivated and I dedicated countless hours to improving myself as a musician and harpist. We listened and talked a lot and Eira inspired me with her artistic ideas and her faith in my skill as a musician. I studied reams of repertoire and had some exquisite experiences playing solo works and chamber music as well as preparing orchestral parts. Harp class was a very steep learning curve about constructive feedback. Some tough hands were dealt around discipline, and my musical ideas were challenged persistently which led to my growth. She encouraged me to be myself and to express myself with my harp but always at the service of the music.
Eira cares for each of her students – she is empathic and compassionate whilst maintaining a healthy sense of detachment. She was there to congratulate us when we achieved the desired result and to console us when we didn’t. She continues to mentor students beyond the RNCM years and even though we don’t talk as often these days, when we do we pick up as though we’d spoken yesterday.
I enjoyed a vast array of extremely enriching orchestral opportunities at college. Orchestral playing was my true love and Manchester was the perfect base to reinforce that passion. A year long course became 2 years when I realised I wasn’t ready to perform a final recital yet. I was enjoying life in Manchester again, allowing myself to be steeped in that melting pot of music, culture and the arts. I also relished being surrounded by a sisterhood of harpists half my age – they were so energetic and supportive, and their carefree enthusiasm was contagious!
I was fortunate to work alongside Eira on several occasions, in particular with the Hallé when they performed works involving multiple harps. Performing operas from Wagner’s Ring Cycle under the baton of Sir Mark Elder were pinch-me moments. They were truly awesome experiences where I could observe and learn, and enjoy complete immersion in music. Eira is a consummate professional with great integrity, and her love and respect for music is immense and steadfast. She shares this with her students with open hearted generosity.
“Success is how high you bounce when you hit bottom”
George Patton
Student life wasn’t always rosy and chicken sandwiches became an institution. When times became too tough, it was reassuring to know I could contact Eira and soon be on her sofa with a glass of wine and a freshly prepared plate of comforting sandwiches lovingly made by Steve. I swear they were the culinary equivalent of a homely hearty hug. No matter what challenge I was facing, whether it was musical or personal, our dialogues never failed to appease my agitated emotions.
Eira’s prowess as a teacher is exceptional and she is held in high regard throughout the UK and internationally. Her ability to adapt to each student is a rare gift. Her knowledge of the repertoire seems limitless and her head was, and still is, constantly brimming with new ideas for her latest compositions and creative projects. Her ability to construct cohesive programmes for recitals, exams, auditions and performances is extraordinary, demonstrating her deep understanding of the performer and the works to be studied.
While I tutored at the Early Music Shop, I worked alongside 2 of Eira’s graduates, Louise Thomson and Alice Kirwan, and we invited Eira to act as artistic director for 2 Camac harp weekends which we organised in Saltaire. She tirelessly shared her love and enthusiasm for the harp and it’s no surprise that she’s in high demand as a guest tutor. Experiencing her deliver tuition with such clarity to a large group of absolute beginners was a memorable sight. Most of them had never seen a harp before let alone play one and I’m not sure they even read music! Most impressive of all was that the participants went away with radiant smiles and a sense of achievement, inspired to continue their journey with our fascinating instrument.
I can’t write about Eira without mentioning Steve. Steve is her rock. He’s her husband, personal chef, chauffeur, barista, recording engineer, technical support, sommelier, librarian, travelling companion, the list goes on. Steve is a placid, dependable, calm character who balances out Eira’s creative nature. They work so well together. They’re a dream team, a marriage made in heaven, possibly quite literally!
Teaching comes with its own challenges. Eira rarely left us high and dry and after class we would often congregate in the refectory to ease out of teacher/student mode while relaxing with a well earned drink. “STEEEEEEEEEVE”!!! we exclaimed joyously upon his arrival. Following this enthusiastic outburst came a chorus of giggles that resounded through the huge space as he approached his giddy welcoming committee cautiously. He arrived to whisk Eira safely to her next destination. Her sense of relief was tangible. Another long teaching day was nearly done. The atmosphere changed as she became more relaxed, safe in the knowledge that it was nearly time to head home to recharge her batteries and enjoy some quiet time.
Eira is blessed with an inexhaustible sense of curiosity and her musical journey has taken her to a myriad of exciting destinations across the world. She has a particular affinity with Greece and all things Greek. She has taught several Greek harpists, many of whom have thriving careers. An accomplished chamber musician, she loves working with her Greek flautist Anna Mari Rosa and Eira has even learnt Greek. Eira has never lost her sense of curiosity and she’s always keen to learn new skills. Filakia Eira!
Emotional
Inspirational
Resilient
Artistic
Soon after my arrival at the RNCM Eira gave me my Happy Box. Inside was a small book of quotations called The Real Meaning of Success and a small tortoise made of stone. Eira is a fervent advocate of slow practice and she often reminded us of Aesop’s Fable about the tortoise and the hare – the tortoise always wins in the end. I filled my Happy Box during my 2 years at the RNCM and many of those happy memories involve Eira. She gives so generously to her students, inspiring us to be the best version of ourselves as musicians and human beings.
Eira always encouraged me to embrace the journey. I’m so excited to find out what Eira does next on her journey.
Eira – thank you so much for all you have taught me and shared with me over the years. From the Heart – Rhian
At work on Monday, I chased a shoplifter out of the shop. The fact he’d already stuffed his jacket with steaks is irrelevant. I’d spotted him on the CCTV monitor and buzzed for the manager. Seeing him make his way towards the doors, a surge of adrenalin sent me running along the aisles beyond the safe boundaries of the shop. I grabbed him by his sleeve. Behoodied, he turned and gave me a sideways glance before running for the bridge in the town centre. What would I have done? Tackled him and pinned him to the floor? Unzipped his jacket to liberate him of his precious meat? I half expected someone to help but it was too late. He was gone, along with a share of the profits. What fuelled me to risk life and limb for a rare bit hunk of rump? Anger actually. It flared up and when he turned to look at me, I wanted to scream at him to get a f**king job like the rest of us.
When I was about 10, I stole a sweetie necklace from the petrol station. I’ll never forget it. I was racked with guilt. I clearly still am.
Life’s been less eventful than last week. My wrist feels much better (thanks for asking) and doing very little practice was a wise move. I had an extremely fruitful fayre on Sunday, restoring my faith in them as a good business investment, the pinnacle being taking a deposit on the day. There’s no better feeling after a long hard day’s work flogging my wares, trying to convince potential clients that my harp and I really are the divine heavenly perfect finishing touch missing from their big day, and why wouldn’t everyone have live music at their wedding to make their day complete? Music is, of course, the proverbial cherry on the proverbial wedding cake but not everyone feels the same way I do about music and at the end of the week I often have to dig quite deep to keep my performer/saleswoman persona going. I miss my regular practice and, with fayre season in full flow, I’m going with that. There’s a lull until November and more paid playing work coming up, thank god.
A sense of play is fundamental to my wellbeing. I liken myself to a bowling ball swaggering playfully along the hardwood alley towards the ten (Twenty? Thirty? More?) pins of my life. Striking a few of them each week is a win. Today my focus is on socialising and my creative work. The cleaning can wait. Last night involved the cooking extravaganza I’ve been promising myself and I used up a lot of the veg I’ve been hoarding, some of it rather the worse for wear, bulk purchased to be incorporated into a mouthwatering menu of exciting exotic dishes. Running out of steam by 7pm, I made a jaw poppingly hot curry. The stew recipe I want to try will stew until next week. As for baking, I’m sure I’ve got a free rainy Sunday coming up. My current obsessions are food and exercise. It’s all about balance.
To socialising then. Last week I invited an interesting customer for a coffee. On Saturday I went on an 8 mile hike with 30 complete strangers. Once past the flush of inadequacy and awkward hellos and as long as I’m not the centre of attention, I’m fine. I’m really trying. Maybe I’m trying too hard.
Looking out this morning at an exquisite sky the colour of parma violets, I’m feeling ok about this time of year which can be challenging for many of us. The nights have drawn in and daylight comes at a premium. With less playing work than I’d like and significantly fewer gigs than last year, I might need to take on some extra shifts at the shop. Most of the time I’m ok with that and I veer between excitement and fear about exploring the new possibilities ahead of me.
Every time I cross the bridge over the stream that leads me to the shop, I pause to watch the ducks. Wearing a face like thunder, I lock my creativity safely in my car for the journey home which involves ranting and singing loudly after a few minutes post shift solemn silence. I watch the rowdy antics of my funny feathered friends. I listen to their comedic cacophonous quacks, and solemnly remind myself of the alternative – motorway journeys.
Have you ever worked on a shop floor? Looks easy doesn’t it but let me tell you it’s really hard work! My concern is always my hands, swiftly followed by my head. At times, I have to stop myself from nutting some customers and I’m learning not to take things personally at work.
I’m not much of a taker but I’m a thief too. I thieve from nature. I thieve from the handful of customers that vibrate on a higher frequency and I absorb their energy to power me through my shift. I still remember the man in a pink shirt who came in on a miserable September day and radiated joy and good vibes. We need more of that. My aim at the shop is to dish that out more generously than I receive it.
M came in and as I was chatting away with him, conscientiously doing his packing, we heard a woman’s voice. I checked my mobile and it wasn’t pocket phone. Was it the voice of god? Was she a woman after all? No. I’d been propping myself up against the till and had obliviously pressed the button panic button on the safety device I have to wear around my neck. Speak to her! exclaimed the manager. Slightly freaked out after my eventful day, I did and apologised. False alarm. Oops. I always worry I’m going to get sacked for being too slow and talking to customers too lengthily. My paranoia led me to believe somehow HQ had seen I hadn’t followed the protocol I learnt way back when I did my induction. For f**k sake.
And so it happened. The thing I feared most since I started my Proper Job happened. I jammed my hand between the wall and a heavy roller cage laden high with cases of beer, wine and spirits. There’s irony for you. I was heaving and hefting, huffing and puffing to get the bastard thing up the ramp into the fridges and, assisted by K, got my hand jammed just above my wrist. Time froze, as did my wrist afterwards, plunged into ice water in the canteen sink. Lightning quick thinking from K – thanks. The shock and shooting pain brought sorrowful sobs from deep down inside. Five minutes later, ice pack on wrist and dosed up with ibuprofen, I was back at the tills. With over 2 hours left of my shift, I asked if my role could be limited to lighter work, a more desirable option than going home and having to call someone in. Being busy helped keep my mind off the disaster that befell me but as soon as there was a lull in traffic, tears started pricking my eyes as I saw what’s left of my playing career wash down the drain. Don’t worry, it’s just bruised and a bit sore today but I can play a bit. I love a bit of drama me.
I’ve never taken my hands for granted. I’ve always been super careful but this year I’ve taken more risks. I’ve become more active physically and pushed my swimming harder, starting weekly lessons on top of my pool fitness classes in July. It’s a time saving idea, so I get a double session in twice a week which saves time fannying around in the changing room. This also gives my callouses time to recover and I think the chlorine hardens the skin on my fingers. With a very wet Autumn upon us, weather is no excuse since it’s often drier in the pool. The irresistibly addictive endorphin rush is the main reason I’m hooked on swimming, as well as running and walking. I often arrive at the baths grumpy and ridden with angst about the future. An hour and a half later I’m a hyperactive gregarious mass of energy, giggling as I bounce out of the leisure centre, whooping in my car as I drive home to get back to my work.
In September I completed my 100 miles walking and running. My friend and mentor Gareth instilled the idea in me, and getting so close in August with 87 miles in the bag, I decided I’d give it a go. No pressure as I had a lot of work to do, but the idea was niggling away in the back of my mind. Feeling a bit aimless about my career, having a target and anticipating that sense of achievement made me want to get up in the morning. So on the morning of 30 September, I notched up 100.9 miles. Think about that. I don’t think I drive 100 miles in a month these days, and that’s another story. I would have bettered my 100 but I wanted to celebrate my achievement with a flask of coffee by the res and a slow ceremonious absorbent stroll.
It was a spectacular morning and my elation was immense. I was at peace.
It’s difficult to describe Gareth Boot. He’s a bit of a chameleon. With his generous support, coaching and mentorship, I’m now almost 2 years sober and smoke free. I’m fitter than I’ve ever been and with his support, I feel equipped to face life’s challenges. If you need assistance with any aspect of your wellbeing, take a look at garethboot.com and drop him a line. He’d love to hear from you so long as you’re not an arsehole! With his lovely partner Sue, they run a company called Better 247 which focuses on all things wellbeing. Sue does a gorgeous banana cake too, amongst an ever expanding range of other delicious vegan recipes. Gareth took me on a run earlier this week and I notched up 10.34 miles. Me! It wasn’t pretty but that doesn’t matter. I did it. That’s what matters.
Since the incident at the shop, I’ve really got my head down and started to face the issues I’m avoiding around getting creative work. I can play the harp. I can write. I’m good at languages and I can cook, and clean if I must. The bigger issue is telling people about myself and getting people to hire me. My business skills are improving but I’m not a natural saleswoman. I’m aware of my talents and my weaknesses and that’s a good starting point.
What’s an introvert/extravert creative to do?
Rare Bit Blogging 