A few things that happened yesterday.
Yesterday Citycrab wrote about climbing stairs with both hands and feet. I did that as a kid, too, and — like her — sometimes I still do. How else am I still a kid?
* I don’t have a “real job.”
* I still throw tantrums and pout. (My pout face is so ridiculous I had to laugh at myself when I caught a glimpse in the mirror during a recent tantrum.)
* I keep my nails short and unpainted.
* I don’t wear makeup, heels, or fashionable clothes.
* My hair is usually just hanging in a braid.
* I can’t get my bangs to cooperate most of the time. (I have a very twisted cowlick right in the front. No bangs doesn’t work because my hair line is twisty and the cowlick hairs always break off short. Straight across bangs don’t work unless I am willing to take the time to blow dry them that way. So my compromise is divided bangs.)
* Like Citycrab said, “I get nervous when making phone calls.”
* And “I sometimes feel that I don’t know the rules of conversation.”
Yesterday our trio played for the Cornell University staff newsletter’s 25th anniversary party on the arts quad. We had a great time even though our set was far too short (only forty-five minutes). We also got to play with both our current guitarist, Craig, and our former rhythm player, Harry. Harry mainly plays bouzouki, which is an octave mandolin; the sound is bright and open like a mandolin, but louder and lower in pitch like a guitar. He does a lot of picking melodies and counter-melodies and walk-downs.
Yesterday I impulsively dusted and vacuumed. Usually housework is stuff I hate to do and put off as long as possible, and do grudgingly when the time finally comes. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m growing up that occasionally I find myself just doing it.
Yesterday I emailed Joe Crookston again; I’d sent him a message about enjoying his show Saturday night, and to his reply I responded again, adding an offer to play dulcimer on his stuff if he ever wanted me to. Today he wrote back saying that sounded interesting, and that he’d also been talking with another dulcimer player, Carolyn Cruso, and maybe all three of us could share a show some time. So I go to her link, and I’m completely overwhelmed and intimidated.
This is a person who has been performing for over a decade, all across the country and even in Europe. She’s got a huge list of gigs, lots of great quotations from reviewers, and is described as equally at home on a variety of instruments as well as singing and songwriting.
When I go to shows like Joe’s, or hear certain other players at dulcimer festivals, or go to sites like Carolyn’s, it amazes me that I am not immediately struck down by fire from heaven for daring to try to be a musician myself.
Sometimes I wish people would take me and my music more seriously, and I long for opportunities like what Joe’s suggesting.
But here it’s happened, and I feel exposed for a charlatan.
I wonder what other people think when they see my site. I have a few really nice reviews, and people at EverythingDulcimer.com seem to appreciate my teaching articles and my CD clips. But my list of gigs is somewhat pathetic, and I have no credentials. Hmmm.
What am I going to say in response to Joe’s email?