On Monday my friend and I set out on a backpacking trek with the intention of camping at a beautiful lake, marked on the map about 3 miles in from the trail head.

While, (isn’t life just like this) the lake wasn’t there, or anywhere for that matter. After good naturedly wandering over the whole general area, down one path until it ended, then back tracking and heading down the other, circling around and finding ourselves back where we started, I begin to feel like I had gone down the rabbit hole. I laughed and laughed and we hiked another mile to another lake that did exist!

Now how can this be? How can a lake appear randomly on the map with a name and everything, and yet not exist. Or even stranger, disappear into thin air from the land, if it HAD been there when the map was made. Was this some kind of strange freaky human error? Well, when we got back to the car I thought I should check on MY map, and sure enough, their was the cute little non existent lake marked on a totally different map.

Anyway, a sore but happy 5 miles later, we dined on boxed Indian cuisine and chatted by a campfire, non the worse for wear.

I have to say that a nice juxtaposition to all of this was returning home-showering and changing into a luxurious and slightly fancy outfit and practicing a Vivaldi concerto. I know what he is going to do, he is totally predictable, but in a good way, and pretty much the lake will be exactly where he had marked it, musically speaking of course. Sparkling notes tumbled out of my cello, crisp and sweet and predictable.

Sometimes it is wonderful to have adventures, and sometimes having every note and bow stroke in order feels magical.

Back on the range (while not literally, sometimes it DOES feel that way, being in Montana and all!). Anyway, where was I, oh yeah, back on the range I have been living up the summer fun, AND managing to get syllabi written, plan tours, edit an audio journal, practice, clean up my desk and go to therapy. What a blast!! Somehow I just pretend that I am traveling in this fabulous place called Bozeman and what a riot the sudden changes in weather, the wild blooming roses and miles of mountains to climb. Yes, I am a visitor in the wild west! I am reminded of this every time I walk out the door and I STILL feel like someone is holding a hair dryer up to my mouth. Sometimes it is a hot hair dryer, sometimes on teh cold setting. but always dry. And the light here is blinding. Maybe I am just getting old, but sunglasses have become a necessity.
Today’s adventures included explaining the elegant bombasticness of Beethoven, and miraculously printing up the first draft of a syllabus, watching my fluffy dog try to escape the heat by scrambling under our porch, only to be pulled out fur completely covered in sticks and leaves (after Wes so diligently brushed her) and having homemade puttanesca pasta that I DIDN’T make!

I never thought I would return from “the office” to a husband listening to Dolly Parton and cooking Italian and feel so deeply happy. But there it is. I suppose the office part I could take or leave…but we are working on that!

I am back in Bozeman after 45 hours of travel. Wes was quite humored by my exhausted 30 second mini naps that resulted in some wild head bobbing.

I was wondering what it would be like to return to Bozeman. And as the bus lumbered into town and everyone around me exclaimed with joy that they were home, I had a very clear experience of not being home. In fact, the wide plain and severe mountains, the bright and close sun, and the dryness all feel as foreign to me as the wild streets of Vietnam with the motor bikes.

I began to think about our little house in Ashfield and how I wanted to plant fruit trees, and where to play concerts and teach.

But I love my students here, have good connections to the faculty, and have committed to this next year in Bozeman.

It will be fun to have a whole community to interact with on a daily basis that has shared in such a fun overseas adventure.
I have syllabi to write, tours to plan, a house to re side, and an audio journal to edit.
But meanwhile I will be hatching plans on how to step into the performing career I have always dreamed of. Grants? Booking conferences? auditions? freelance? I need to create a business plan and start now heading in the direction of my dreams, even while I make good on my current financial and institutional obligations.
It is never too early to live the life that brings you joy!!

Thanks to all of you who have supported me to go on this trip. I am so incredibly grateful for your support. I will be sending along the audio journal as soon as I can edit it, and when the PBS documentary comes out, I will let you know if it seems worth it to purchase and watch (who knows if I will make it into the final cut)

Finally, I have to admit, writing this blog has been a blast for me. I have always enjoyed writing, and if you don’t mind, I think I will just keep up with it, although perhaps less frequently.

Since my afternoon on the beach a powerful and steady joy has filled me. I feel happiness radiated through all the fibers of my being. Every now and then I try to imagine why I am feeling so much peace and then I just laugh at myself and surrender. Who cares! Maybe it was the ocean, or having passed a large hurtle in my career, or maybe it is simply a grace, a gift. So I am soaking up this inner sun and feeling in love with life for as long as this feeling lasts.

I think the unpredictability of this adventure, the heat and sweat and the playing under strange circumstances has exercised my surrender muscles, and I am sinking into a beautiful place soul that knows that I can trust my life, my destiny and the divine.

I think part of my craving to play solo is to know this place in myself, and now that I have discovered it on stage, I feel it radiating out into simple things like brushing my teeth, or admiring a strange light fixture!

This craving to discover my own soul may seem somewhat narcissistic (sp?), self indulgent, a passion for the self in love with the self. So I ask your compassion and forgiveness in this. I think in the process I have found and released piles of shame, regained trust, and played some good concerts too.

I wonder if life will ever be about something other than healing that great rift between our knowing and the divine. At least now when I feel the joy and ectasy of music flow through me, I will trust and love it, knowing that a part of me, like the gaurdians for the Buddha will be watching out, staying connected to this earth, watching my intonation and rhythm.

Walking to dinner today I saw a green tea beverage in the cooler. It’s label described the crux of my journey; “Heaven and Earth”.

So this is the part in the part in the tour when I get to forget that I am a musician, or a professor, or really anything at all other than a woman in with a silk wrap and bikini walking on white sand with toes in the emerald water.

If it sounds amazing that is because it is. I have almost burst into tears at the pure beauty of these beaches, and the pampered luxury of a five star beach resort.

Of course the downside is that emailing costs an arm and a leg, I guess they assume you can afford it, so I will not be writing another blog entry for two days after this one.

This morning at breakfast I had carrot juice, smoked salmon, fresh papaya and pineapple etc etc. Then I headed off on a boat to snorkel around some tiny islands off the island of Phuket.

I am sad to say that the coral is badly damaged by the Tsunami and by tourism, and garbage floats around some of the rock outcroppings. Despite all this, it is still breath takingly beautiful, and I saw a puffer fish, a small shark, a parrot fish, a sea sponge and sea anemones. I didn’t want to get out of the water, even after 2 hours. Towards the end of my swim excursion Stephanie took her video camera out with her, so we will have underwater video footage!

Last night I had one of the best pina coladas of my life. Only one I had in Costa Rica compares. The key is teh fresh pineapple and coconut. Delicious, and not too much rum, so I could actually taste the fruit.

Tomorrow I will give a masterclass at the music school in town, so I will have to remember that I am a cellist tomorrow.

But for this afternoon I will wander the white sand beaches alone, missing my husband, but enjoying the full happiness of the sea and sun.

A whirlwind tour of the Kings palace (where Anna the school teacher taught the king’s hundred or so wives English) and many golden Buddhas, large and small. The heat was almost unbearable, and I felt myself suddenly quite religious, because the inner sanctuaries were the most cool and shaded. As I was sitting in lotus position in front of the glimmering display of Buddha, surrounded by his protectors, offerings and sparkling adornments, I had a student of mine lean over and ask me if I “felt anything”. “It is just so glitzy”, she said. I will admit, the talking tourists and hyper tour guide (whose only remnant of a failed acting career is her melodramatic high pitched voice) did detract from the sense of sacredness and peace of the place. But even more than this, I thought about how different the smiling peaceful figure was to the image of a man pinned up to a cross with a crown of thorns digging into his forehead.

The truth is, I DID feel something. I felt a sense of radiant peace, if this makes any sense, or at least the sparkling awesome piles of gold, colors and mirrors encouraged me to surrender to the notion that such an experience is there for me whenever I ask. Even a year ago I would have thought this whole spectacle was absurd. But I liked the idea that here is this enlightened being who is revered and protected from harm by a whole host of creatures. Maybe I am just getting too old for all this “suffering equals spiritually goodness/ martyr” business

It made me think of my concert. The inner Buddha in me, for lack of a better explanation, sang out through my music, while meanwhile some part of my mind was busy driving away any thoughts or fears that would interfere with the focus and peace I needed in order to successfully offer my gift of music.

Of course, I know very little about Buddhism, so forgive me if I am extrapolating from an image. But when we kneel before a representation of something, it seems we take in that image deeply.

But maybe the jesus story has something there for me too.
Certainly performing can have an element of sacred suffering. And the ego strains under the heavy weight of fear of criticism and judgement.
Maybe my ego, if it doesn’t step aside, is nailed up to the cross bleeding with a crown of thorns. Crucified until the most valuable part of who I am can come forth.

Well, I never meant to get so philosophical. But the image of Buddha really impacted me, and my student’s innocent question.

On a lighter note, one of the camera guys overheard that we were going to a pharmacy and asked us to pick up some unlubricated condoms, if we found them. My friend and I were taken aback momentarily by the request, and slightly put off, (buy your own contraceptives, dude!) until he explained that they were for the microphone. evidently they protect against rain while allowing the sound to still be fairly decent. after recovering from the shock, we both joked about details of size and style, commenting on how he did have a rather LARGE microphone….

A very delicious ice cream bar here is called The Magnum Bar. So powerfully good and large it can blow out your brains, I guess? strange English phrases show up everywhere and create quite a bit of amusement. Equally amusing are the Thai desserts which are a whole assortment of colored jellied, slobbery, snotty, wormy things. If you are looking to play with your food, this is your chance!

Today was a magical day. Picture the setting; a large cathedral with vaulted painted ceilings and ornately decorated gold detail, large colorful stained glass windows.

Some opening comments about shared friendship, good will and reaching across cultures and oceans through music set a feeling of deep respect and honorable purpose.

As the first number of the concert starts I am running my fingers through some passages, one hand playing, thinking to myself, “why do i do this to myself”. and all the while breathing in and breathing out…trying to calm my mind. Video cameras from PBS, video cameras from Thailand, about a dozen people taking photos. But don’t think about it….There’s the applause, the chair on stage, my rock stop and seat cushion for extra height so that I don’t hit my left leg during the fast passages in the third movement. Okay here we go….

I step up the marble steps in my gold high heels, holding up my crimson gown. I bow and shake the concert masters hand. The audience applause dies down. I adjust my rock stop to be sure it hits the gap where the two large marble slabs don’t quite line up so that my end pin doesn’t slip, I wipe my forehead for some extra lubrication for my fingers.

Shuichi nods at me. My heart pounds. The first tutti note is like a gun shot and I am propelled into a series of triplet runs. I focus on being centered and in control, yet passionate and expressive. I keep the tempo slower than the other nights due to the very echoey hall. I navigate the first section with no trouble. I breathe a sigh. The next section I miss a shift, but I don’t care. I can already tell I am in the right place for this to go very well. My focus is just the right kind of sharpness, and there is no fear now, only awareness and intensity. I notice the clergy in the front row staring at the red butterfly temporary tattoo on my left foot. I think about the crimson gown I am wearing and the passion in my music. It does not match the pious images and sculptures of the virgin Mary in this cathedral. Mary Magdalene? My mind wanders for a moment, wondering what she was like and if she might have a place in the church after all, a passionate and earthly sort of devotion to the divine……

I feel myself swept back up into the music, the elegance of the second movement, and a well executed little spiccato cadenza. I can hear the dark rich sound of my cello vibrating through the magnificent space of the cathedral, and the intensity of my love for music filling that sound.
The third movement scares me a little and I miss a few notes in one of the fast passages. quick recovery. The coda has me in a state of joy.
I finally played my best!

I stand up, bow, and smile, a big genuine smile. The senior vice provost, president of Assumption University and other big wigs in the front row rise to their feet. The rest of the audience stays put, evidently standing ovations are extremely rare in Thailand. The tears begin to well up, but I hurry off stage before anyone can see.

When the long concert ends I am gifted a large bouquet of purple orchids, with pink and purple ribbons. I feel like I am a bridesmaid. We line up for shots with all sorts of important people in front of the orchestra. The cameras roll and flash from all directions. After wards, talking with Assumption University faculty and fans I turn and notice that my friend, the camera lady Stephanie, has been capturing my conversations. I feel like a star! Several of the faculty are Italian, and the director of the performance program flirts with me as only Italian men can. But something good comes from the conversation. I am finally offered a name that fits perfectly for my cello. Lorenzo Sanguino…….which is the name Lorenzo which has both an elegance and power to it, and Sanguino, i hope I am spelling it right, which means basically hot blooded, passionate.

The rain outside has just stopped and I lift my dress to avoid the puddles. The hem gets wet anyway. I think of my wedding day with the mud on my dress.
We ride the trolley down the line of blooming trees, past the wild horses water fountain and over the arched bridge to a five course Thai meal in another magnificent building.

For the last two days we have been staying in a five star hotel in downtown Bangkok. It has been quite luxurious, and the breakfast had the most diverse assortment of foods you could imagine from oatmeal to fried rice, eggs and fruit etc etc. Yesterday we played at Mahidol University. They had a huge and very selective music conservatory. The hall had great acoustics, but the orchestra was a bit skittish since we arrived about 15 minutes before the doors were opened, and we were scrambling to get to our soundcheck. This was due to the most amazingly bad Bangkok traffic. I think it took us two hours to travel from one end of Bangkok to the other.

One things Bangkok has to offer is inexpensive good massages. But you have to be sure to got to the right kind of place or you will end up with a suprise happy ending you had not intended.

I went to the Asian Herbal Massage place and had an orange oil massage. The woman was quite good, if a little forceful. at the end she practically bent me in half over myself to stretch out my back, and this didn’t feel so good.

One of the things I have been feeling lately is that it is unbelievably hard to tour with a concerto. With chamber music or even a solo recital, I can handle the stress of travel and multiple performances and manage to sound good most of the time too. Touring with a concerto is much harder, probably because the pressure and necessity to be totally accurate and excellent is much more with a concerto.

Tomorrow I will have concert three with the piece, here at Assumption University outside of Bangkok. The venue is a gorgeous cathedral with amazing stained glass windows, a large pond and water fountain outside, and a six second delay. With such an echo, the tempos all need to be a little bit more slow, or the whole thing will become mud.

What I love most about the space is that it is heavily air conditioned, which means that I might make some headway in the constant battle with the humidity and the affects that it has on my cello. With strings one inch off of the fingerboard, even with forehead grease, the fast passages can be challenging to facilitate. This place does not have power outages, so with the air conditioning running constantly I may be able to get the 90 percent humidity down to an all time tour low of 50 percent!!!

After tomorrow I will be home free and almost to the beach and swimming snorkeling!
I hope to have my best performance yet tomorrow. So far i had a very passionate intense performance, with less accuracy than I would like, and a more scared performance with more accuracy but less passion. If I can be accurate and passionate tomorrow I will feel like I have accomplished what i have set out to do.
Hopefully my intestines will settle down soon!…………..time for more curry.

I think there is a special travelers high that can make even frequent power outages have a special excitement. For example, the fact that urshower drain belches a nasty sewer smell every few minutes.
And then there are the power outages. Several times a day we lose power in our hotel for 15 minutes or so. The hotel staff come
around to all the rooms with lanterns and put candles on the stairs. We all cluster around amused at such rarely experiences inconveniences, but our vice provost managed ot get caught TWICE in one day in the elevator during the outage, and after a crowbar pry out, seemed non the worse for wear. but what are the chances?

Speaking of prying, that is what the bus driver was doing this afternoon to the luggage door after the latch failed with all of the PBS camera crew recording equipment trapped inside!

And speaking of camera crew, it has been very interesting being followed around by cameras and sometimes also an enormous mike. The four person crew has been filming everything from our boarding our flights to shopping in the silk markets. I felt like a movie star twirling around in crimson silk pants with the camera rolling. Stephanie is the only woman in the crew and a darling of a person. She was the perfect person to document the first frenzy of girlish delight at the piles of vibrant silk garments. Sometimes I wish they were not there. Yesterday, for example, the humidity was so bad that my earrings were sticking to my face. Between that, the sweat and the dark circles, I am sure I looked fabulous

Returning from my concert yesterday in my french bustle style gown and silk sparkling top, I had to step over the garbage, dodge the motorbikes and peddlers in front of a host of local admirers who stopped from their work to stare. It was hard not to feel like royalty next to the banana lady aand the grime on the street.

But speaking of grime, or at least grease, did I mention that forehaed grease is one of the main reasons I sounded good yesterday? I will explain. The humidity has been upwards of 95%. My cello has reacted by becoming sticky all over the fingerboard. At our dress reherasal I literally had to use double the effort to shift and manuveur over the two feet of space. This was quite disconcerting. It felt as if someone had put glue under my fingers. Needless to say, my accruacy was off because all the many tiny calculations of distance, speed and pressure that one makes in facilitating shifting and runs was completely off. Not to mention that it was just plain hard to get my fingers to slide at all. Well, thanks to my wonderful roommate, Suzanne, a Bass player, I learned the trick to getting some finger lubrication in a pinch. Rub your forehead becaus eit tends to be a greasy spot. Well, there I was rubbing my fingers over my forehaed during the Tutti parts. It really worked, and I moved around the cello like a well oiled finger machine.

Today the silk markets called out to me, and I admired silk dresses and shirts and scarfs in plum, salmon, gold, burgandy, emerald and you name it! Embroidered, patterned, buttoned and striped, silk for sleeping, dancing and praying. It took tremendous self control not to blow my entire small budget on pretty things to drape over my body.

So I have been having to much fun to blog (is that a noun?). Hanoi is an amazing city, a mixture of european class and third world wildness. i LOVE it. There is a constant sea of motor bikes swarming through the streets. The silk garments and clothes are the most spledid array of colors and textures and I have been practicaly having a siezure with excitement trying on the most grogeous tradition as well as non traditional outfits. Yestrday I had my international solo debut at thet Vietnam Academy of Music. People ask me how I think it went and it is very hard to judge because I was completely focused and in the music, not outside of myself evaluating. Of course, I can say that I only missed one or two notes that I can remember and the orchestra felt much more steady than the rehearsals. It was quite a hectic scene leading upt o the concert. We had only 20 minutes of rehearsal the day before the concert, and then 15 minutes before the concert began we were ironing up rough spots.

On from Seattle the conductor leaned around his seat and asked me if I minded cutting the 2nd movement of the work. Now mind you, it is pushing it to say that there are three distinct movements in this 20 minute piece. I found teh whole idea of cutting anything distasteful, as Mathew Savery of the Bozeman Symphony lieks to say, I don’t want the composer meeting me in the afterlife with a baseball bat.

Nevertheless, we had limited time and our conductor was finding ways to shorten the program. I adore the second movement, and so we had to find another place to cut the music. When the cellist came up to me in broken Vietnamese asking me why I didn’t play the third movement of the piece, I hope that he got that it was because of time. I hope that I never have to do this again, it was so out of alignment with my integrity, and I never want to loose my integrity no matter what the gain career wise. In this case I was not given a choice.. I hate to gripe but this was an important lesson in wre my boundaries are.

Luckily i will pay the concerto IN FULL in Thailand, which I am looking forward to.

Yesterday we went to a water puppet show and it was hysterical. A large pool of water was the stage, and behind that a curtain hide the puppeteers. The masterful artists made fish jump, ducks splash in the water, and a pair of birds woo and lay an egg. All to the accompaniment of beautiful and sometimes shrill singing, drumming, flute and various stringed banjo type instruments.

Last night I ate with three members of the pbs camera crew at a very large place with over 300 dishes. It took us forever to choose, but we ended up with fascinating rice paper, omellete, fish random noodle dish delicacies and for dessert, snotty and gelatinous sweet fruity things. People love texture in their food here.

Now I am going to the temple in my new fabulous silk outfit of crimson and gold.

I am having an amazing rich and colorful experience that I know will impact me forever.