myjourneysinsight

THE TIMES IT TORE MY PRIDE

Posted on September 2, 2010 by Judy

The title for this post comes from lyrics to my song, “Through My Music.” The link is this: #122 THROUGH MY MUSIC.

It absolutely refers to my feelings about “putting myself out there” and feeling squashed. The full lyric line is:

Through my music I forget

the times it tore my pride

but somehow I’m still playing

for comfort while alone

If I were worried about my pride, I wouldn’t have shared my early recordings, since my voice is now considerably better when I sing lower.

I didn’t know that when I first started performing and recording in May.

Although it is obvious that I am obsessed with music right now, I need to say this:

I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL MUSICIAN!

I seriously only started playing my guitar again after thirty years a few months ago. Before that, I played my guitar for about six years – from the age of 15 until I was 21. It was during that time I wrote all of my songs.

For the last thirty years my identity has been first as a daughter, then wife, then mother.

I forgot to put artist.

As far as music goes, I’ve certainly improved. It was miraculous for me to record my classical composition, “Farewell” on my old, classical guitar after having just relearned it two weeks before that. The fret-board on my classical guitar is warped; I would love to buy a new one, but cannot afford it.

Despite that, there was something in the recording that wasn’t there thirty years earlier. What I have now is the emotional intensity of my heart connecting with my music.

If I died tomorrow, one of my greatest joys in life was hearing my song recorded and arranged in such a magical way. I used to play a classical, Catalonian folk song, and I believe my melody ranked right up there with that one.

My voice has also come a long way. It doesn’t even hurt my feelings when my husband has told me that my upper register is “hard on the ears.” I’ve never considered myself a good singer; however, I do have a large vocal range.

I remember well when John Denver’s voice really improved and changed. I imagine that other singer/songwriters must have had fascinating journeys.

Since I’ve been performing at Border’s, I’ve gotten many nice compliments on my singing. However, what I am most proud of is that I sing from my heart.

I might have had doubts about whether my songs that are left are “good enough” to record and share, but I don’t anymore. I’ve decided it doesn’t matter, I’m going to record them anyway.

My life feels like a musical. When I’ve gone to a musical, not every song is a hit. Therefore, even my songs that are unconventional can still be recorded if that’s what I want to do.

Recently a friend wrote this to me:

Judy,

I just listened to the one in progress that you put on the blog. Your vocal improvement is amazing.

I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard “a smile” in your voice as you sang. It’s great.

Still bothered by feeling that there are sometimes too many words/syllables to cover all the music. You either need more notes or fewer words. Can’t decide if I might like it a bit slower as well. I think so. I am eager to hear your finished version of Your Are My Wings. XXOO

I took in my friend’s words and listened to my song to see what she meant about syllables. She was right! As I sang the words: “You know that I always wanted to fly. . .” it dawned on me. Yikes! Take out the word “THAT!”

I really do need a lyric collaborator!

However, my journey is certainly not about creating perfect music!

All of this reminded me of my lyric line on this post title. Although I have had a magical run of nice recordings recently, my music has truly been about “playing for comfort while alone.”

Therefore, I’ve decided to move on with recording the rest of my songs. Now I have not one, but two, imperfect and interesting versions of “You Are My Wings.” In addition, I also have the older versions, which are reminders of how very far I’ve come.

My old pillow. Where is my pride?

“The Pillows”

Lately, I’ve mentioned my seasonal march toward the anniversary of Jason’s death.

The “seasonal march” simply refers to the change of seasons and the poignancy that brings to me – the reminders of bereavement, sadness, and loss. Poignancy and pain are different. I do not feel intense pain anymore. I’ve had so many wonderful outlets, and feeling poignant actually feels beautiful for me now.

I noticed yesterday, that it has finally become time for me to get some new “clutch” pillows. My husband came in and I was holding my cell phone camera to photograph my pillow for this blog. He said nothing. He doesn’t question anything that I’m doing and I appreciate that. But I’ll bet that sure was strange for him to see me taking a picture of my pillow!

The story about “my pillows” is on my post about Jason in this paragraph:

Finally, the word came to us. Jason would be operated on out at Loma Linda Hospital by a very famous surgeon, Dr. Bailey. He had done many infant heart transplants.

I remember clearly that I had no bags packed. I just stood up from that rocking chair and drove with Michael to Loma Linda, following the ambulance with Jason inside. We took a hotel there for a week. We went to a drugstore to buy pillows, underwear, and toothbrushes. I wore the same clothes for that whole week. I still have the same pillows from 18 years ago; it is my daily reminder of that week.

After nineteen years, I have finally become ready for some new pillows.

Such is bereavement; the process cannot be rushed.

Jason as a baby – he loved my guitar so much!

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Tagged acoustic guitar, composing, creativity, Daily Life, death of a child, Friendship, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, Humor, humor children, humor daily life, Hypnotherapy, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, Ordinary Life, original songs, parenting, performing, singing, songwriting, voice lessons, writing | Leave a comment

IN THE HEAVENS

Posted on August 28, 2010 by Judy

Link for lyrics, recordings and other stories: YOU ARE MY WINGS

Below are audio links to my 8/31 voice lesson with Peaches regarding the new version of my song, “You Are My Wings,” which I will be re-recording and posting soon. (At the end of the Lesson D, she receives her birthday present – a painting of a still life of peaches from me!)

8/31 PEACHES LESSON A

8/31 PEACHES LESSON B

8/31 PEACHES LESSON C

8/31 PEACHES LESSON D

Today, I went into the studio having made the decision to re-record my song, “You Are My WIngs.” This was a difficult choice for me, as I had three other songs I was ready to record. George and I spent a lot of time on the arrangement. This was the first time I did not play my guitar. I wanted an arrangement that was primarily “piano based.” We ran out of time for my vocals. . I will put it on the song recordings page when it is complete. George will be adding a lot more instrumentation, including drums next time.

I celebrate that even this song “in progress,” is significantly better than my version done two months ago.

This is absolutely how young I feel right now!

“My mother”

I am very fortunate about how much my mother loves me. She has been very happy that I am enjoying life, and has not placed any great demands upon me. I know she has complete faith in me as her advocate; I always make sure she is well taken care of and her needs are met.

I recall how certain messages sustained me during the difficult time last January while my mom was on a respirator. Here was a special one that I received from my cousin, Dorothy:

January 29, 2010

Judy,

Thank you for all your e-mails about your mom. You are a strong woman with some special qualities. All the special qualities you have your mother has slowly put into you; from your painting, to your persistence.

When you were just a little girl I remember your mother telling me how much you loved bugs, then it was painting and all the time she spent, with you as your slowly learned to paint.

When Jason got sick she was there every moment with you either by phone or in person. As each and every one of your children were born she was always there. It is true you have done a lot for your children and they have turned out the way they have because of this. However, no one bakes a cake without an oven, so too it was your mom that listened to you and gave you great advice so you could have the confidence to do what you have done.

Love, Dorothy

A picture of Dorothy and I when I was twenty.

My cousin, Dorothy, holding Jason.

A page from my diary when I was nineteen.

I entitled this post, “In the Heavens,” because that’s simply where I am right now. I don’t wonder whether it will lead to a crashing, “come down.” It doesn’t matter to me whether it lasts – I’m simply enjoying it.

Yesterday while at the gym, a stranger in the Jacuzzi commented to me, “You sure seem happy. You haven’t stopped smiling.”

I swam laps, yesterday. I usually swim when I feel stress. However, I swam to address an ache that often arises when I have tremendous “creative urges.” I used to feel the “ache” when I felt the need to write about something traumatic. Now I have that ache when I am “birthing” a song.

“Birthing” is the word I use, because the whole process is truly like that for me. While composing and refining a song, I feel as if I’m reliving those same feelings I had when I originally wrote it! There is tremendous relief after recording any of my songs. When I listen to my recent recording of “Farewell,” I am transported to a place in the heavens.

The creative ache continues for me as though I am having “after birth” contractions. I listen to my recordings and analyze them over and over. Just as I have marveled at my newborn children, I marvel at my musical creations.

I’ve thought about whether someday I will create my own CD of music to sell. I’m not so sure I will, unless my music is commercially produced. What I’ve been doing has been expensive; it’s certainly a higher priority than driving a newer car!

Because I am continually improving, I don’t want to lock into anything that is not up to my high standards. I like sharing my progress on this blog. I imagine that a year from now I will be even farther along on the “musical” part of my journey.

I had another realization this morning. Performing has also allowed me to alleviate my creative ache. It has been wonderful, because it allows me to share.

“Sharing” is what I want to do. I am not selling anything for that reason.

All I want to do is share my knowledge, insights, stories, and music. If I move other people, then my heart is truly in the heavens.

“Moving my teachers; a tremendous source of satisfaction for me.”

Email correspondence with Frankie, my in high school choir teacher:

On Aug 24, 2010, Judy wrote:

Hi Frankie,

It is very meaningful to share my newest, instrumental recording with you. My identity has always been as an artist, not a musician at all. I wrote this song when I was in your class at the age of 17.

Do you remember when I used to play that song for the choir coffeehouse? I know I’m not technically very proficient yet, but I can see how much I keep improving!

The reason this song sticks in my mind was that I wrote it while in choir and called it “Farewell.” It actually was a song I sang that said “Goodbye” to the choir. I sang it frequently.

I had a wonderful session. I hummed all the parts for my arranger and loved his choice of instruments.

Love, Judy

Dear Judy,

Thanks you for this beautiful recording, which actually brought tears to my eyes. I suppose part of it was that David’s death date anniversary was the 16th and also that I saw a very touching British film yesterday, “Mrs. Palfry at the Claremont.”

Please keep me posted about your mother. I certainly understand your being anxious about that.

Love, Frankie

Hi Frankie,

Your response brought tears to my eyes! To move my high school music teacher after all these years – wow!

By the way, I write a lot about loss. I can feel it in my music. Actually, this instrumental song is called “Farewell” so it’s another “Goodbye” song!

Love, Judy

P.s. Loved that movie, too. Fabulous.

Dear Judy,

Seeing the movie brought the loss to the fore, as did your song. I am still rather weepy today, but I know it is important to grieve when the feelings surface.

Love, Frankie

Dearest Frankie,

You are so honest and I’m sorry for your tears today. It is interesting how grief finds a way to work itself to the surface. “Up and out” is a motto that has helped me very much.

I hope you are doing something nurturing for yourself. I stopped biting my nails two months ago. I went and had a pedicure and manicure today. I was in my musical reverie as I listened to my recordings while soaking my feet.

Life has been wonderful.

My mother seems to be better. Her respiratory condition has improved, and I spoke with the caregiver to increase her hours over my father’s objections.

Love, Judy

Dear Judy,

Thank you for the loving response.

How interesting that you mentioned biting your nails, because I did that until I was in my late twenties perhaps. I do not recall what caused me to quit, but I applaud you for being able to stop.

Soaking feet while listening to your recordings sounds blissful.

It’s good to receive positive news about your mom. Brava for increasing the caregiver’s hours, if that is what your mom needs. I am a firm believer in that after my mother’s experience.

Love, Frankie

Dear Frankie,

Thank god, I finally see the light. I should have listened to you a long time ago and gotten a caregiver.

This woman is truly wonderful, too, and as you know that makes a huge difference. I could never be enjoying my life as I am, if this caregiver wasn’t involved.

Love, Judy

P.s. Interesting about your nails. I waited 50 years! It’s still an adjustment – however, now the nails are excellent in creating nicer tone on the guitar. I didn’t even grow them for that reason!

Having lunch with my high school music teacher, Frankie, two weeks ago.

The message below is from Nancy, my college illustration instructor after I emailed her a recording of my latest song, “Farewell.”

On Aug 25, 2010, Nancy wrote:

Dear Judy,

Your son is very, very sweet. Almost like a lullaby. Tender.

You are so wonderful. It is you. You are your song.

Thank you.

XXX

Dearest Nancy,

Your message is so meaningful for me; you have no idea.

Love, Jude

Sympathy card I received from Nancy after Jason died. My “seasonal march” toward the anniversary of his death has begun.

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Advocacy, Aging Parents, composing, creativity, Daily Life, Friendship, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, original songs, parenting, performing, singing, songwriting, voice lessons, writing | Leave a comment

MY FAREWELL TO MUSIC

Posted on August 25, 2010 by Judy

I share two performances of this song. I think I’ve improved with playing it. My first performance was in 2010 and my second was in 2019.

#16 MY FAREWELL TO MUSIC

My 30 year old recording of this song is on the post from mid-February below:

REDISCOVERING WHAT I LOVE TO DO

More images from my high school choir at this link:

#67 MY MUSICAL ATTACHMENTS

I wrote this in 1980 (it is very neat – there are more pages below). I cannot read music anymore.

These recordings from 2011 were when I discussed Farewell with Peaches Chrenko, my former vocal coach:

“This morning”

When I arrived at George’s studio this morning, first I played my old, classical guitar. I wanted a purely instrumental track. I swear that guitar still has sand in it from the many years I played it on the beach!

After half an hour of repetitive tries, I decided it was enough. My recording was the best I could do; if there were clicks and buzzes, so be it. Sweat was pouring from me. I wanted to have energy for the second track on my steel string guitar. George said he could do a few things with the classical recording another time.

For the arranged version, I played my steel string guitar. It felt different as I began to play the same progressions of notes. The sound was like bells – “tinny” and sweet, for sure. I played over an over until I decided the song was close enough. My technical virtuosity began to improve two weeks ago when I concentrated on remembering this piece again after thirty years.

Now I could relax. I collapsed in a chair across from George. He started by adding reverb to “sweeten” my guitar melody. He played notes on his keyboard and adjusted it until he decided upon an instrument to begin with. His selection sounded like human voices going “ahhhh.” I wasn’t sure – but as he softly added his notes; I liked it.

I hummed for George the old melody I used to sing. George wasn’t sure whether it was a good idea to play over my guitar. When he played the melody I hummed, it sounded so beautiful to me. I decided I wanted him to add the melody in the second chorus and third choruses in different octaves.

George said he wanted to add a drum thump – I told him to go ahead. There was no way to describe the euphoria I felt as I listened to my song build and crescendo.

It felt more amazing than anything I’ve ever experienced!

Certainly it was clear for me that recording songs has become the most joyous part of my life right now.

Until this morning I didn’t remember my song’s melody beyond the guitar part.

“My Song Was Instrumental for Me”

When I was seventeen, I was composing songs whenever possible. In addition to songs with lyrics, I composed a few interesting, guitar solos; one in particular was my favorite. I called the song “Farewell,” after composing lyrics for it. The words never seemed to flow well throughout the entire piece.

Recently, I came across some sheet music, which I had neatly written. On that page, I listed my song’s name as “Fantasi.” I think it is interesting to share that I cannot read the music I transcribed, because in thirty years I’ve completely forgotten how to read musical notations!

In my senior year of high school I added lyrics and melody to this song. I played “Farewell” to say goodbye to my high school choir friends, and that is why I named it such.

After graduating high school, I was very much into playing classical guitar. I was not technically that accomplished. Despite practicing constantly, my playing was choppy and there was no future for me as a musician. However, studying for a semester at Cal State Northridge was definitely beneficial. It certainly made me appreciate how much dedication is required to be a musician!

At one time, I could play from memory at least thirty classical guitar pieces. I can only play two now, and not very well at that!

When I attended a month long camp in 1978 at the Brandeis Bardin Institute, I remember sharing this song as a farewell there, too. Of course, one of my favorite songs at that time was the “Ice Castles Theme.”

Cheryl and I were always singing and playing that song; we often cried as we played it because we knew that the words were true for us. The words that moved us especially were, “Please don’t let this feeling end, it’s everything I am, everything I want to be . . .”

Because this song with words was not at all compelling for me, I decided to leave it simply as an instrumental piece. Until today, I didn’t remember “Farewell’s” melody line. The guitar melody was haunting for me; somehow I have felt it might be theme music for my life.

I started to play my guitar in January, when I began this blog. After not playing much for thirty years, I did not remember how to play my own song’s composition. I felt longing whenever I listened to a cassette recording of it. I wondered if I would ever again be able to recreate those beautiful chords and notes. I had to find the fingerings all over again, and my technical ability had certainly regressed from not playing for such a long time.

Without rushing the process, I attempted to explore the notes I heard in my head to see if I could find the fingerings again. Gradually, I found many of the pieces – it was almost like a puzzle. Some were missing and then the next time I played I would figure out those missing parts.

Last week, I had all the parts! My next step was to continually practice the whole thing and see if I could do it smoothly. Recording something perfectly has been next to impossible for me. At my last recording session, it took over a hundred attempts to record the guitar part for Crystal Oceans to my satisfaction. With a completely, instrumental recording, any buzzing or missteps would be heard.

I debated whether to change the title to my instrumental song. I decided to leave it as “Farewell.” This song invokes a wistful feeling for me when I play it. I feel wistful when I remember bidding farewell not only to my youthful experiences, but also to my music for thirty years.

I’m always telling my kids not to get too much sun because they’ll have “sun damage.” I was not a good example!

FAREWELL

you must know why

it’s so hard to say goodbye

to the place I will remember my entire life

it just seems so unfair

for memory it has become

but these feelings inside

will live on . . .

as the time draws near

my love will last

the time went so fast

it just seems so unfair

for memory it has become

but these feelings inside

will live on . . .

Tagged acoustic guitar, classical guitar, composing, creativity, farewell song, Friendship, guitar, guitar instrumental, high school memories, intrumental, Music, music recording, musical arrangements, musical composition, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, writing | Leave a comment

THE FUTURE WAS SCARY

Posted on August 24, 2010 by Judy

I can clearly remember how it felt to be this age.

8/24/10 MY LESSON WITH PEACHES

8/24/10 PEACHES LESSON – SAYING GOODBYE 1

8/24/10 PEACHES LESSON – SAYING GOODBYE 2

This Saturday is Peaches’ 50th birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PEACHES! I am definitely planning to do something for her!

Excerpt of a message to a friend today:

My blog is still up and growing – and I’ve kind of changed direction from pursuing being a writer.

Well, I am doing simply great. My therapy from writing has transferred over into my rediscovery of guitar and my love of music, especially my songwriting that I did before I got married. I started out in March with voice lessons at a public park (with the same voice teacher my youngest son had). From there, I began going to a recording studio/arranger and have been getting a lot of pleasure recording my songs. I decided to really help myself improve by performing. I now have two weekly “gigs” and I play for Borders Bookstores; I also do an open mic thing on the Internet once a week!

So instead of being an illustrator, I’m working on revising my songs, and playing my guitar. I share a lot of this on my blog, including portions of my voice lessons. It has been a lot of fun for me. I have no idea where it is going. I am inspired, however, that I’ve received beautiful feedback from people sharing that my music has moved them.

What more could I possibly want?

On top of this, I am also enjoying my other blog – the one all about my illustration career. I update this blog about once a week. I scan files from many of my old jobs and categorize them. It has been a lot of fun, and perhaps it might end up being my book after all.

“My exciting life”

Yesterday, I was driving with my two sons home. While making a left turn, I pulled up next to this huge, pickup truck with enormous tires. I looked up and noticed that the two men in the front seat were grinning and leering at me. I smiled to my sons and said, “Wow, I’m fifty and I’m not used to seeing men look at me that way. Did I do something?” I was very embarrassed a moment later.

Because, just as I was saying that, one of the men leaned way out of his window – there was a noise and I jumped. My oldest son said, “Mom, that man just spit on our car window. Sure enough, the window was wet and my stomach started churning.

My life is getting way too exciting for me!

Here was a comment by one of the players in my tennis game today:

“Judy, is working on writing a song over there in the shade while we’re all talking!”

She was right!

A picture to remind me of a wonderful family vacation. The future wasn’t scary when my parents took care of me.

In my song, Only Tears I mention the words, “uncertain careers” and “the future was scary.” Well, my career is still uncertain!

I’m not sure how I’d even describe what I’m doing now. I could say, “I’m currently not working and only playing.”

That is accurate, because I spend long hours devoted to my fun and passionate endeavors without any kind of income.

At times, I do have financial concerns; however the guilt I formerly had about whether I am a productive person without an income seems to be gone. I feel like I am far more valuable now than I ever did when I made money.

When I was young, the future did seem scary. I wonder if I’ve faced some of those things that I thought were so scary. Cancer certainly seems scary, and I haven’t had to deal with that. However, I’ve faced many things that weren’t easy.

I’ve decided the future is simply unknown, and will be revealed to me. That whole process isn’t scary anymore; it is what makes my life meaningful.

I have too much energy for my present life, and none to waste about what might happen in the future.

Right now, my heart is light. But the “seasonal march” began today for me.

Summer has finally hit with unbearable heat. My thoughts began to linger about how long it will be until the weather starts to cool down.

Thus began the imperceptible march toward my next “anniversary of the heart,” which is in early October. That is the date of Jason’s death. It will be 18 years since he died at the age of five on October 6, 1992.

With bereavement that has forever changed me, always comes the memory of loss. The exquisite pain is always remembered, but with less intense heartache. I am human, and my joy is tempered by my appreciation for how fortunate I am despite losses in my life. To be human is to experience loss.

This morning, I was checking my phone messages and received an urgent one from my mom. She said she was ill with a persistent cough, and that she was up all night choking. I immediately called the nursing station at her facility and I explained that my mom is susceptible to infections, and that she was intubated due to respiratory failure. The response to my phone call was that she would be closely monitored at night and a doctor would see her tomorrow.

I am still an advocate when needed.

I have not yet finished writing about the experience of my mom being on a respirator earlier this year. That was the catalyst for the amazing changes in my life. The urge to write again has come; I must revisit that story soon.

I used to say, “I can never relax! Something bad will happen!”

Now I say, “I appreciate my joy, and will cope with whatever challenges come my way.”