I can’t recall how the conversation got round to the topic of destruction – or deconstruction – but it seems that once you get into bad vocal habits, the best way to remedy them is to shut you up, break it down, and rebuild.

I told Felicia how I met my hometown vocal coach on a 3 hour choral recording session. That day, several years ago, I was placed in the soprano section and at the end of the session, after singing countless takes of high A’s, her voice was still clear as a bell while mine was so fatigued I could hardly speak. When I overheard her say she was a vocal coach I asked for her number. She nursed me through a later bout with laryngitis by commanding me to be silent for a time, then gave me a cassette of speech therapy exercises. “Speech therapy?” I said. Apparently my vocal habits needed remedying all the way down to how I placed vowels and initialized consonants in my everyday conversation. 

When I got to Los Angeles a friend recommended a voice coach and she started our lesson with the usual: some scales and exercises so she could get familiar with my voice. She stopped me immediately and said, “Do you realize that before you take a breath you swallow?” Hm, no I did not! Now why would I want to constrict my throat right before trying to fill my lungs with air? This was a totally unconscious yet voluntary action that diminished my ability to sing my best.  

I was a creature of bad habit, apparently!

After sharing these tales with Felicia, she related several stories comparing students who made significant progress with coaching. The key components in their success was their willingness to set aside their ego in order to find the root of the issue(s) holding them back, then following through with consistent practice of newly learned, proper habits. This can be scary, she said, because if you decide to fundamentally change the way you sing, there will be a period of practice where you won’t sound very good. To some, this does not feel like moving towards improvement. But it is a sign of a new beginning. We all wobble when we start to walk as babies, right? 

“Foundations,” she said. “Sometimes you have to tear everything down to the foundation and start over. Even Pavarotti took time off to rebuild his voice.”

Looking at my end of year blog from last year, I had to laugh at myself. I found Felicia’s comments metaphorically relevant to that woeful post. So much fear and sadness in my words! Was this the echo of my collapse to some foundation?

In hindsight, the rainbow has been brilliant this year, colored by last year’s storms. 

If 2010 was the breakdown of my paradigm, 2011 was a re-centering, re-grounding and preparation for launch.  Life has been as bicoastal as it ever was in the years I still had keys to an apartment in New York. Funny how sometimes it’s really about access to, not ownership of, the things and places we love. Enjoyed many firsts – played new venues, sang with new artists, sang in and produced a rock opera, co-produced a music video, started my percussion studies and can’t wait to get back to continue! – all in Los Angeles. Met new friends across the globe just by being open and saying yes to opportunity. I was craving a mentor and found…more than one, under my nose. 

From here, 2012 looks pretty promising, I must say!

Cheers to you, and may you go fearlessly forward from your own foundations with passion, grace, and joy into the new year.

Bottoms up!!

Lost some friends this year for various reasons. Perhaps I did not prioritize my attentions well. Or perhaps I was mistaken about the strength of those connections, much as it hurts to realize this.
The anti-pain: to realize that new friendships have taken root and beckon regardless of geographical distance or time zone.

Creatively, quite happy about the number of opportunities this year. Proud of a few projects that went quite well with much blood, sweat, cussing, and eventual glee. Some surprise sources of income at the end of this year feel like reminders to keep faith.

Grateful, always grateful, to have encouragement from people I respect and seek counsel from. I note my lack of a mentor – something I crave at this point in my efforts – but wonder if I have allowed myself to see who that person, or who those people, may be.

Tonight is my last night spent in my Manhattan flat. For the past three years I have felt a bit like an urban Persephone – shuttling from sunshine and sea air to electric-lit concrete canyons. Each place has been a respite from the other. I wonder if the real key is to find peace and opportunity wherever I land.

There is a theory I refer to often that suggests you follow your fear, let it lead you to the next steps in your true path. That when you approach a challenge that will take you to the next level, you feel the most fear and resistance. I am freaked out, after three years of a long bicoastal goodbye, to be saying a real farewell to my favorite city on the planet. I hope this is a signal that hard yet rewarding work is dead ahead.

These are the questions whose answers I chase in a sunset direction.

Happy new year my friends! May your journeys lead to terror, adventure and reward as well!

With love,
Celia

they’re kept behind a glass
so people pass
and wonder at their sheen
i take a photograph
and laugh
they’re far from human beings

feel no pain
never worked a day
man made
yeah they’ve got it made
would they every know
a falling star
or the blood-sweet taste
of a broken heart

a steady stream of lookers
rubberneck
desire on their minds
envy of the aging mothers
and the lovers left behind
the girls behind the glass
are wrinkle free
and wear the latest styles
but damned if i’ve
ever seen one smile

“I am at the tipping point, to keep going or to turn back? The truth is I have been broke for eight years chasing a career in film. I am not foolish enough to believe I am alone in this… Hollywood is full of thousands of other creative souls who have tried and also failed… many of them now live on the streets. We celebrate those who persist and eventually succeed, we love winners, how do we treat those who persist and fail? Were they any less heroic?”

later today i hope to find out the results of an audition+callback. i’ve been tipped off about more cool possibilities in the fall, and i’m looking forward to some great work back in New York City this fall and winter. a promising last quarter of 2010!

still…

each audition, gig, session – no matter how well-paying or high profile – is a roulette spin, or intravenous shot of gratification/validation, take your pick. progress is nonlinear to say the least. i still hold fast to my dedication to music, but, um, which dream was i fulfilling again?? from time to time i consider whether i should put my life as a singer-for-hire on the back burner, and instead take a full time job to support my goals as an independent artist & songwriter. hmmm…

these past few years have started to feel like perhaps i am living the life of a gambling addict. it only takes one payday to resuscitate the impression that there will be more, which carries you until the next one. by that time the buzz – and most likely the cash – from the last “hit” have both been well spent. in between one spends time writing, practicing, staying healthy and in shape, learning new skills or brushing up on existing ones, taking lessons or classes, networking, auditioning. all dies cast in the name of moving forward, making a living.

perhaps it’s a bit cliche, but to echo my friend’s sentiment in his blog – for every success story – every Brad or Angelina or Lady Gaga – there are at least hundreds of others at various stages of a creative career who are one payday or less away from homelessness or crippling debt. i am lucky to still be one of the ones getting calls, auditions, gigs. however, in my gut, i feel closer to the artists on the street than the ones on the red carpet.

that said, there is something strangely comforting and even encouraging in the knowledge that i am not alone in this experience, and that it has been a shared feeling among artists for centuries. i know many fellow creatives who keep a copy of Rilke’s “Letters To a Young Poet” close at hand because those missives feel like they were written to us, not just the young poet in the title.

i pray my filmmaker friend keeps the faith, finds the investors he needs and keeps going. today, he is my hero. today, i will keep my fingers crossed ’til the phone rings and hope that i am a winner.

that said…

earlier this summer, i found myself in a rental car with my boyfriend zooming across the Cascade Mountains in Washington State. we were en route to a remote lodge where i would see the youngest of my siblings get married. he had found a beautiful match in his bride. i knew this the first time i met her a couple of years back, when we stayed overnight with them. they spoke the same language, shared values, tastes, and seemed calm with one another. he looked so happy whenever he looked at her. she was kind, sweet, soft-spoken, and obviously loved him to pieces. i hoped for the best…

well, the “best” happened when we got to the lodge. the doors opened onto a scene of busy bees: there were young women covering folding chairs with white fabric; another couple was draping an arbor-like arch with white Christmas lights. my older brother was in the background, documenting the preparations with his camera. the future in laws were busy making meals and dessert in the main kitchen. as i rolled my suitcase through, i found my brother chopping peppers for breakfast omelettes in another kitchen area.

my older brother had stopped at the farmer’s market on the way to the  wedding and picked up many bundles of local wildflowers. the bridesmaids were busy sorting these into piles – daisies in one, then blue lupines, red poppies – these would become the arrangements for the wedding ceremony as well as the bouquets.

it was an assembly line for a do-it-yourself wedding, assembled with love and joy by friends and family.

even their ceremony was DIY. there wasn’t even a minister. the couple wrote and made their own vows to each other. they even sang a song, each specially chosen, to each other. all the attendants had something personal and moving to share about the couple, and the sincerity of everyone’s affection was apparent. i cried buckets of joy for my little bro and my new sister.

then, tonight, on the last day of july:

my boyfriend and i attended another wedding party for some dear friends. their approach was even simpler. some weeks before, they had gone to city hall to do the deed. tonight, they celebrated with friends.  no invitations (just an Evite), no flowers – the bride even baked the desserts and cakes herself – and a circle of the groom’s musician friends gifted the couple with impromptu love songs and music. the bride and groom were relaxed and happy, grateful for the chance to have their dearest friends together in one place so they could simply enjoy each other’s company and share their good news.

it was a humble celebration, but it sure felt luxurious.

now, i’m not suggesting the downfall of the wedding world as we know it. in these lean times, any industry that still does consistent business and employs armies of people is a good thing. but it’s amazing how complicated modern weddings can get, how the pressures of the gala can obscure the fact that that the celebration day is really a launch of the couple’s life together.

these two weddings were both simple, yet beautiful – and one felt that by just attending, you were actually passing a blessing  – though i’m not Jewish, the closest word i can think of is mitzvah – along to the couple for their union.

in these stripped down celebrations, it was easy for me to feel the rays of blessing that our communities and circles of friends would feel as a result of these two couples coming together and choosing devotion to each other for the rest of their lives.

love lives simply if you let it.

in every point
gladness
i’m reaching out
for streams of it
i’m gonna keep it in a locket
’round my neck

searching out
i found you
in darkness whispered
for you
as i walk
toward you
i feel blessed

in the corners of the room
you read each word
i write to you
and your generous review
is forgiveness

speak to me again
say i am i am i am
fill me to the brim
drink it in

speak to me again
say i am i am i am
make me understand
what bliss is

the day i held
a fragile shell
the day i heard
the tower bell
that day i knew
i knew you well
i know you now

i could be
your shadow girl
i could cultivate
this pearl
every point – each star
- this world
gladness

in the corners of the room
you hear each song i sing to you
and when my song is through
you return it

speak to me again
say i am i am i am
make me understand
what bliss is…

speak to me again
say i am i am i am
fill me to the brim
drink it in

speak to me again
say i am i am i am
make me understand
what bliss is…

in every point
gladness
i’m reaching out
for streams of it
i’m gonna keep it in a locket
’round my neck.

i’ll buy you a ticket
on a jumbo jet
you could come out west
you should come out west

the sun here is shining
like it always does
to fade back the color of your troubles
paradise if only the one you love
ain’t living in the shadows

well the sun casts a shadow
it can’t help it none
be a sundial, love
be a sundial my love

and the desert’s dry
but you can still find some life
of the dusty kind
of the dusty kind

the sun here is shining
like it always does
to fade back the color of your troubles
paradise if only the one you love
ain’t living in the shadows

well, the sun here is shining
so i’m sending you some
well the sun here is shining
so i’m sending you some

one of my facebook friends challenged me recently to write a song based on her one line status update the other day.
here is the immediate result. perhaps still in progress but a nice thing to share on an overcast sunday.

FIDALGO ISLAND
by celia chavez
inspired by e. murphy and emily’s birthday

just watched the sun slip down behind Fidalgo Island
like each were diamonds i counted every ray
each moment of the ruby twilight sinking
each eyelid blink revealed the creeping
night

followed the hounds on their silent beachcombing
let go their leashes and watched them run away
they chase the waves – i chase these silent moments
and draw my memories in the shifting
grains

these days are different than the days before this
around a chorus like verses they frame
they may repeat with a strange dynamic
but keep the waves from sounding like just
static

i’ll find a bonfire lit by strangers
to share the happy heat of burning wood
so good to wager tired blood on sunsets
and bet my life on the
neighborhood

My friend Will is a polar bear.

Well, not an actual polar bear, but one of those folks who relishes wading into the ice-cold water off Coney Island on Sunday mornings in nothing but his trunks and tattoos. After hearing him extol his icy weekend dips, I said to him, out of honest curiosity and bafflement: “What on earth do you enjoy about stripping down in sub-zero temperatures and freezing your ass off in the water?”

Will sighed, then said simply: “It makes me feel alive.”

Now, THAT I could understand.

I made the decision to set aside December in New York to sing in and help coordinate a show that is dear to my heart and a part of my holidays each year. On its own, the gig is not quite lucrative enough to justify a three week trip.  The cold (and blizzard!) that greeted me on my recent trip to New York City – the shock-change of environment – forced some focus.  If I was going to achieve something on this trip, it was necessary to be awake, determined and prepared,  and willing to face the hostile weather with a smile.

Miraculously, the gamble paid off – somehow, as a result of just being there, work came out of nowhere.  There was just enough time for visits with good friends, midnight mass, two shows of my own music, and playing tourist. The show I came to work on sold out all its dates. I broke even on the trip, and by the time I boarded the plane back to L.A., I was energized and excited about new projects, new music, and a class on sightsinging.

Bonus: I had a beautiful white Christmas!

Upon my return west, a few more happy surprises:

In my pile of mail, I found a royalty check. It was for some songwriting & singing I did some time ago for a dance/trance music producer (not exactly what I’m known for). And, on New Year’s Eve, an email notice from iTunes: a song from a semi-forgotten recording session earlier in 2009 for another L.A. songwriter friend was released on December 29th, and was also featured on ABC’s “One Life To Live”.

Third happy surprise: My orchid, while I was away, sprouted not one, but two new bloom stems! So there will be more flowers in the spring here in Cali.

I hope that 2010 brings a greater awareness of life and the world around you and a renewed sense of possibility and hope.

May you roll into the New Year fueled by grace, optimism, and enlightened awareness of the blooms in your future.

Strip down, dive in, feel alive!

Blessings and love, and happy new year,

Celia