- Published on
Thanks to MasterVoices
I had the honor and privilege
Of joining the chorus for
The Nightmare Before Christmas
In concert, live-to-film at the Barclays Center
Three rehearsals and
Whoosh! We were on!
It was the largest orchestra I’ve ever seen
5 timpani! 5 separate percussionists!
Half the stage was taken up by the strings
Two harps
A baby grand
The delight of the audience in costume
The brilliance of the soloists
The charisma of Ken Page
The sweetness of Catherine O’Hara
The skill and sass of Sandy Cameron
It was a thrill to be singing alongside professionals
In the twenty person chorus
Everyone was exceptionally lovely
It was a thrill to see Danny Elfman in the flesh
And be conducted by the legendary John Mauceri
These people created the scores of my childhood
It is so surreal to find they are real people
And not just names in the credits
I had my own personal nightmare
On the day of the concert
I felt like death
Walked over to urgent care
To discover my insurance is no longer valid
I had to pay through my blocked up nose for an appointment
But at least I got antibiotics
I was terrified my coughing and sniffling would get me kicked out of the concert
I did my best to keep it under wraps
I think it was ok
I hope it was ok.
I feel oh so lucky to be here
To be able to do the things I’m doing
Sometimes this adventure is scary
And then if you are good
And just keep being you
You get all the presents.
I had the honor and privilege
Of joining the chorus for
The Nightmare Before Christmas
In concert, live-to-film at the Barclays Center
Three rehearsals and
Whoosh! We were on!
It was the largest orchestra I’ve ever seen
5 timpani! 5 separate percussionists!
Half the stage was taken up by the strings
Two harps
A baby grand
The delight of the audience in costume
The brilliance of the soloists
The charisma of Ken Page
The sweetness of Catherine O’Hara
The skill and sass of Sandy Cameron
It was a thrill to be singing alongside professionals
In the twenty person chorus
Everyone was exceptionally lovely
It was a thrill to see Danny Elfman in the flesh
And be conducted by the legendary John Mauceri
These people created the scores of my childhood
It is so surreal to find they are real people
And not just names in the credits
I had my own personal nightmare
On the day of the concert
I felt like death
Walked over to urgent care
To discover my insurance is no longer valid
I had to pay through my blocked up nose for an appointment
But at least I got antibiotics
I was terrified my coughing and sniffling would get me kicked out of the concert
I did my best to keep it under wraps
I think it was ok
I hope it was ok.
I feel oh so lucky to be here
To be able to do the things I’m doing
Sometimes this adventure is scary
And then if you are good
And just keep being you
You get all the presents.
- Published on
Last week I had the pleasure of performing in a budding New York institution, the Cranky Cabaret. The night featured a wonderful collection of angry, snippy, and just plain bitchy "Songs of Vexation and Discord."
I performed "N.Y.C" from Annie, re-written to be about cancer, and "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid, re-written to be about an usher who wants to be an actor.
I hope you enjoy the clips!
I performed "N.Y.C" from Annie, re-written to be about cancer, and "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid, re-written to be about an usher who wants to be an actor.
I hope you enjoy the clips!
Big thanks to everyone who came out to support me, pianist Dave Koenig, and producers Jessica Morris and Kris Holz!
- Published on
Photo by Shannon Bailey
“This was a real, truly live place. And I remember that some of it wasn’t very nice, but most of it was beautiful…”
We spent the past two months
Making art and teaching and being a part of
A glorious artistic commune in the woods
Our merry old land
That “miraculously” appears every summer in the Connecticut woods
Where 6 summers ago
I fell in love with my husband
Beneath shooting stars and wrapped in the smell of peppermint.
For the first time in eight summers I dreaded coming back
All my fears were confirmed, and then some
But it was still Buck's Rock.
During team building
We built statues from cardboard and string
A perfect metaphor for the way all the shops come together
To create something
Out of nothing
The temperatures were mercifully milder
It rained on more Saturdays than I can remember
We only had 2 or 3 lunches on the lawn
The gong fell off its hinges
My super power of being immune to mosquitos was temporary
I was eaten alive and covered in large red welts and bites
I still can't quite believe we staged a full-scale production of The Who's Tommy in 19 days from start to finish.
I still hate the musical, but I love our show
Especially our glorious team.
At the end of sitzprobe, a bunch of campers came up to me,
Grinning from ear to ear
Ecstatic at having sung with a rock band
They hugged and thanked me for getting them there,
In all my shows at Buck’s Rock,
That has never happened before.
Our cast were tight-knit and weeks after the show had ended
Could be found singing the songs with ukuleles on the lawn.
I can't believe what an uphill battle it was to put together The Wizard of Oz.
I thought it would be easy.
It’s The Wizard of Oz. Who doesn’t know The Wizard of Oz?!
Turns out, lots of people.
Not having a full cast until the week of the show
Not having a full pit until the day before the show
Having to deal with difficult behavior from grown-ups.
I'm so proud of the kids for whom this was their first time on stage, ever.
The kids who came up to me and told me they were scared to be in the musical but now they can't wait next year because they want to do it again.
Seeing kids learning to express themselves
Helping them find their voices
Teaches me so much about myself
As a person, as a performer.
The cliche is unbelievably true
If you become a teacher,
By your pupils you’ll be taught.
I loved the evening activities
The hilarity of the slip n’ slide
The fierceness of thumb wars and staring contests
Having my tea leaves read by an earnest and beautiful camper
A multitude of plays and concerts and recitals
Inspiring, funny, moving, intense.
The honor of being a CIT-assist
Going to snack on the basketball court
Being able to go to the Falconridge Folk Festival
Watching kids learn to adult,
They stumble and fall and fly
My secret santa, Nate
Gifted me the most beautiful portrait
I desperately wish it could be my headshot
It is exactly who I want to be.
Days off, a welcome break from the intensity
Picnicking at Lake Warramug
Ice cream in Kent
Camping in Housatonic State Park because Macedonia Brook was closed
When we’re surrounded by pine forest
I want to abandon everything and
Build a cob cottage and
Become a park ranger and learn about eco systems and soil and
Be the kind of person who can identify all the different kinds of fungi
This summer,
I ran just over 190km through the Connecticut woods.
I taught voice lessons.
I sang with an orchestra.
I played in a flute choir.
At night
Fireflies danced in the dusk
Bioluminescent bums twinkling
I would fall asleep to a
Calamitous frog and cricket choir
If someone had told me, almost ten years ago,
That I would still be coming back
Year after year
And be married to a Buck's Rocker
I wouldn’t have believed them
I am so lucky to have found this place.
And here we are
And then, it is gone.
The end.
Making art and teaching and being a part of
A glorious artistic commune in the woods
Our merry old land
That “miraculously” appears every summer in the Connecticut woods
Where 6 summers ago
I fell in love with my husband
Beneath shooting stars and wrapped in the smell of peppermint.
For the first time in eight summers I dreaded coming back
All my fears were confirmed, and then some
But it was still Buck's Rock.
During team building
We built statues from cardboard and string
A perfect metaphor for the way all the shops come together
To create something
Out of nothing
The temperatures were mercifully milder
It rained on more Saturdays than I can remember
We only had 2 or 3 lunches on the lawn
The gong fell off its hinges
My super power of being immune to mosquitos was temporary
I was eaten alive and covered in large red welts and bites
I still can't quite believe we staged a full-scale production of The Who's Tommy in 19 days from start to finish.
I still hate the musical, but I love our show
Especially our glorious team.
At the end of sitzprobe, a bunch of campers came up to me,
Grinning from ear to ear
Ecstatic at having sung with a rock band
They hugged and thanked me for getting them there,
In all my shows at Buck’s Rock,
That has never happened before.
Our cast were tight-knit and weeks after the show had ended
Could be found singing the songs with ukuleles on the lawn.
I can't believe what an uphill battle it was to put together The Wizard of Oz.
I thought it would be easy.
It’s The Wizard of Oz. Who doesn’t know The Wizard of Oz?!
Turns out, lots of people.
Not having a full cast until the week of the show
Not having a full pit until the day before the show
Having to deal with difficult behavior from grown-ups.
I'm so proud of the kids for whom this was their first time on stage, ever.
The kids who came up to me and told me they were scared to be in the musical but now they can't wait next year because they want to do it again.
Seeing kids learning to express themselves
Helping them find their voices
Teaches me so much about myself
As a person, as a performer.
The cliche is unbelievably true
If you become a teacher,
By your pupils you’ll be taught.
I loved the evening activities
The hilarity of the slip n’ slide
The fierceness of thumb wars and staring contests
Having my tea leaves read by an earnest and beautiful camper
A multitude of plays and concerts and recitals
Inspiring, funny, moving, intense.
The honor of being a CIT-assist
Going to snack on the basketball court
Being able to go to the Falconridge Folk Festival
Watching kids learn to adult,
They stumble and fall and fly
My secret santa, Nate
Gifted me the most beautiful portrait
I desperately wish it could be my headshot
It is exactly who I want to be.
Days off, a welcome break from the intensity
Picnicking at Lake Warramug
Ice cream in Kent
Camping in Housatonic State Park because Macedonia Brook was closed
When we’re surrounded by pine forest
I want to abandon everything and
Build a cob cottage and
Become a park ranger and learn about eco systems and soil and
Be the kind of person who can identify all the different kinds of fungi
This summer,
I ran just over 190km through the Connecticut woods.
I taught voice lessons.
I sang with an orchestra.
I played in a flute choir.
At night
Fireflies danced in the dusk
Bioluminescent bums twinkling
I would fall asleep to a
Calamitous frog and cricket choir
If someone had told me, almost ten years ago,
That I would still be coming back
Year after year
And be married to a Buck's Rocker
I wouldn’t have believed them
I am so lucky to have found this place.
And here we are
And then, it is gone.
The end.
- Published on
I had the most wonderful dream
I went back to camp
And spent entire days teaching voice
And singing and playing piano
I hung out with some of the loveliest, funniest, most talented humans
Who inspired me every day with their creative energy and output
I floated down a river in a giant plastic tube
I sat in on auditions and casting
And felt like an important and valued member of the team
I sang in the Music Shed staff band and we started a spontaneous dance party with our version of Shut Up and Dance!
I worked on Assassins and became re-obsessed with Sondheim’s goddamn brilliance
Every note is important
Contributes to the telling of the story
The creation of character
I sat under stage lights at 1.30 in the morning and, despite having been up since 7.30am the previous day, felt alive and happy and at home
I taught voice lessons to over thirty campers
And three staff members
We did scales and breath control
Sang pop and musical theatre songs
A privilege and a joy to help people find their voices
I worked on Urinetown and fell in love with conducting
A whole new kind of performing (to me at least)
Feeling like a total beginner
Being hungry to learn more
And instead of feeling terrified and anxious by not knowing
Being inspired by it
It was the hottest summer I can remember
With afternoons so humid you felt like you would melt into the pavement
In the heat we taught and sang and danced and schlepped instruments across camp
Right up until the first day
I wasn’t sure I could actually do it
For months I had had ongoing aches and pains
All unexplained and infuriating
I was tired and depressed
And then we drove up
Buck’s Rock Road
And it all fell away
This summer
I tripped the light fantastic
Finally found my old self
But she was different
Better
I remembered what it was that we wanted
In the blink of an eye
We were back home in Brooklyn
And the green woods felt like
A beautiful, wonderful dream
The end.
I went back to camp
And spent entire days teaching voice
And singing and playing piano
I hung out with some of the loveliest, funniest, most talented humans
Who inspired me every day with their creative energy and output
I floated down a river in a giant plastic tube
I sat in on auditions and casting
And felt like an important and valued member of the team
I sang in the Music Shed staff band and we started a spontaneous dance party with our version of Shut Up and Dance!
I worked on Assassins and became re-obsessed with Sondheim’s goddamn brilliance
Every note is important
Contributes to the telling of the story
The creation of character
I sat under stage lights at 1.30 in the morning and, despite having been up since 7.30am the previous day, felt alive and happy and at home
I taught voice lessons to over thirty campers
And three staff members
We did scales and breath control
Sang pop and musical theatre songs
A privilege and a joy to help people find their voices
I worked on Urinetown and fell in love with conducting
A whole new kind of performing (to me at least)
Feeling like a total beginner
Being hungry to learn more
And instead of feeling terrified and anxious by not knowing
Being inspired by it
It was the hottest summer I can remember
With afternoons so humid you felt like you would melt into the pavement
In the heat we taught and sang and danced and schlepped instruments across camp
Right up until the first day
I wasn’t sure I could actually do it
For months I had had ongoing aches and pains
All unexplained and infuriating
I was tired and depressed
And then we drove up
Buck’s Rock Road
And it all fell away
This summer
I tripped the light fantastic
Finally found my old self
But she was different
Better
I remembered what it was that we wanted
In the blink of an eye
We were back home in Brooklyn
And the green woods felt like
A beautiful, wonderful dream
The end.
- Published on
There has never been a time when I haven’t seen The Sound of Music. I watched it on repeat throughout my childhood, transfixed by the beautiful music, the seven children (yes, but seven!), the gorgeous scenery, and, of course, my surrogate childhood nanny, Julie Andrews. I’ve been to Sing-a-long Sound of Music and cheered Maria, booed the Nazis, waved my edelweiss, and roared with laughter at the hilariously inappropriate, “Maria, what is it you can’t face?”. I have watched every Oprah “Where Are They Now?” special, gobbled up all the trivia tidbits, and listened to the audio commentary. With delight, I have sat with a new generation watching Maria twirl on the mountain and become entranced as they too learn their do, rei, mi’s.
Lawrence Downes recently suggested that The Sound of Music is due for a remake, arguing that the successful recent revivals of Oklahoma and South Pacific demonstrate how old shows can be made new again. The Sound of Music doesn’t need to be revived or made new. The original 1965 film still resonates with audiences today, as evidenced by the on-going popularity of Sing-a-long Sound of Music events around the world, the hype around the 50th anniversary, and the horrified reaction to The Sound of Music Live on NBC.
Yes, clearly Sound of Music is one of my favorite things. And my belief is this: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. If Maria taught me anything, it’s that if God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window. Instead of remaking what doesn’t need to be remade, I’d like to offer a few things producers can do with all the moolah for such a project.
Things to Do Instead of Remaking The Sound of Music
So dear powers that be, producers, directors, writers, and guardians of the Rogers and Hammerstein estate, please, please, do not remake The Sound of Music. Consider doing something good instead.
Lawrence Downes recently suggested that The Sound of Music is due for a remake, arguing that the successful recent revivals of Oklahoma and South Pacific demonstrate how old shows can be made new again. The Sound of Music doesn’t need to be revived or made new. The original 1965 film still resonates with audiences today, as evidenced by the on-going popularity of Sing-a-long Sound of Music events around the world, the hype around the 50th anniversary, and the horrified reaction to The Sound of Music Live on NBC.
Yes, clearly Sound of Music is one of my favorite things. And my belief is this: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. If Maria taught me anything, it’s that if God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window. Instead of remaking what doesn’t need to be remade, I’d like to offer a few things producers can do with all the moolah for such a project.
Things to Do Instead of Remaking The Sound of Music
- Film Broadway musicals for distribution at cinemas or online. Recently an eager fan was slammed by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Tony Award winning composer and star of In the Heights, for illegally seeking a pirated copy of his newest production Hamilton. I’m so enthralled by filmed live musicals, I wrote my Masters Thesis on them. There is a solid market for filmed live musicals. High quality recordings are valuable not just for entertainment, but for education, and archival preservation. The Met Opera, Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, and Digital Theatre are just three models proving the success of live theatre on screen.
- Invest in recording regional productions. Broadway may be the capital of live theatre in the USA, but there is plenty of wonderful work being produced beyond the Great White Way. Same deal for entertainment, education, archival preservation applies.
- Invest in school arts programs. Many schools are facing drastic budget cuts and the first subjects and extra curricular programs to go are from the arts. There is a mountain of evidence (also here) that shows that participating in art, drama, and music programs develops many skills. Students learn problem solving, interpersonal skills, self-expression, and develop a sense of place and belonging.
- Provide scholarships for students to attend music and theatre camps. Every summer many camps in and around New York provide stimulating and enriching music and theatre programs. Programs such as Buck's Rock Performing and Creative Arts Camp (full disclosure, I’ve been working at Buck’s Rock since 2008), A Broader Way and French Woods all provide quality access to music, theatre, and the creative arts.
- Fund performing arts travel scholarships. Scholarships to help school groups travel to see professional theatre. Bring school groups from overseas to America. Take groups abroad. Cross-cultural understanding and friendships make the world a better place, and maybe even prevent conflicts.
- Fund music programs for refugees. Music has a powerful capacity for healing, helping with stress relief, and providing hope. The true life story of The Sound of Music is about a family of talented musicians who fled war in Europe, came to the USA for a better life, and opened a music camp in Vermont. What better way to honor the Von Trapp legacy than by helping people who have fled war?
So dear powers that be, producers, directors, writers, and guardians of the Rogers and Hammerstein estate, please, please, do not remake The Sound of Music. Consider doing something good instead.
- Published on
Watching the movie musical
Of the musical
That has been in my life
Longer than five years
Memories of my interactions with the show
Flood back
Early uni days
In Sydney
When cast albums became accessible
And the internet made
Broadway
Not so far away
And I “discovered”
Jason Robert Brown and
The Last Five Years
Working on the student production
Lighting op with Len
Who became one of my dearest friends
The musty smell of Fig Tree Theatre
Watching the production at Sydney Uni
Directed by Benita, now at Columbia
Starring Blake, now in Blood Brothers
And Lexi, now an opera singer in Berlin
An early date with the boy
Who I thought would be husband
We were engaged in September 2009
And by February 2010
Five years ago
It was all over.
And then it all began.
I quit my day job
I started meditating
I saw JRB in concert
I auditioned for drama school
I moved to London
I fell in love
I walked across Spain
I moved to Colorado
I got married
We moved to New York
I got fucking cancer
I sat in my lounge room and watched
The Last Five Years movie musical
On demand. Because you can do that now.
Seeing New York flit across the screen
Your new home town
Soon you’ll join the line of girls
Belting as high as they can
And you’ve been through that break-up
You’ve felt that euphoria
Goodbye until tomorrow
And you just have to be patient
For the next ten minutes
And that score
The way it catches in your throat
Breaks your heart
And brings back all these memories of
The last five years.
Of the musical
That has been in my life
Longer than five years
Memories of my interactions with the show
Flood back
Early uni days
In Sydney
When cast albums became accessible
And the internet made
Broadway
Not so far away
And I “discovered”
Jason Robert Brown and
The Last Five Years
Working on the student production
Lighting op with Len
Who became one of my dearest friends
The musty smell of Fig Tree Theatre
Watching the production at Sydney Uni
Directed by Benita, now at Columbia
Starring Blake, now in Blood Brothers
And Lexi, now an opera singer in Berlin
An early date with the boy
Who I thought would be husband
We were engaged in September 2009
And by February 2010
Five years ago
It was all over.
And then it all began.
I quit my day job
I started meditating
I saw JRB in concert
I auditioned for drama school
I moved to London
I fell in love
I walked across Spain
I moved to Colorado
I got married
We moved to New York
I got fucking cancer
I sat in my lounge room and watched
The Last Five Years movie musical
On demand. Because you can do that now.
Seeing New York flit across the screen
Your new home town
Soon you’ll join the line of girls
Belting as high as they can
And you’ve been through that break-up
You’ve felt that euphoria
Goodbye until tomorrow
And you just have to be patient
For the next ten minutes
And that score
The way it catches in your throat
Breaks your heart
And brings back all these memories of
The last five years.
- Published on
With the new year upon us, and many people making resolutions for better, brighter 2015's, I thought I'd re-share my 30th birthday wishes in the hope you'll incorporate at least one into your new year.
Thank you for reading this year. It has been an adventure.
With love,
Lu xx
- Write to someone you have been thinking kindly about. Make it a person you have not spoken to in a long time. Do it without expectation of a response. Tell them you’ve been thinking of them and why.
- Buy a copy of The Big Issue, or equivalent street mag, from the next vendor you see.
- Pay attention to your breath for one minute. Don’t worry about whether you’re “doing it right” or breathing “properly”. Just pause and watch your breath go in and out for one minute. Repeat throughout the day as you remember this request.
- Read an actual book. Not on a device, an actual book. Smell the pages. Feel the pages between your fingers. Savor the delicious feeling of being-almost-at-the-end and not wanting it to be finished.
- That instrument you’ve always wanted to learn? Work out right now how you can get a hold of that instrument, and seek out lessons. The internet is an amazing place.
- Seek out your local farmer’s market. Buy something you’ve never seen/eaten before and learn what to do with it.
- If you are willing and able, donate blood and/or platelets. Google it right now to find out where you can do so in your city. If you can’t donate, consider sharing information on how to do so.
- If you are willing and able, sign up to be a donor on the bone marrow registry in your country. You could be a life-saving match for someone. Google it right now to find out where you can do so in your city.
- Be kind to yourself. No really. Stop being so hard on yourself. You are awesome and more loved and valued than you realize.
- Remember that you are alive. Remember your passions and what makes your spine tingle with delight, your heart race, and your soul feel happy. Allow yourself to feel sad when you’re down. It’s ok. This too shall pass. The good, the bad, the ugly. Just be here.
Thank you for reading this year. It has been an adventure.
With love,
Lu xx
- Published on
me. (almost) thirty and fabulous in NYC.
I’m turning 30 in three days. For the last six years, my dream has been to be 30 and FABULOUS in New York City. I was going to celebrate by picnicking in Central Park, seeing a Broadway show, and drinking fancy cocktails. Instead, I will be preparing for a second round of chemotherapy because I have a life-threatening illness called acute myeloid leukemia.
Cancer sucks. I’m not going to lie. No amount of Julie Andrews-Mary Poppins-Maria Von Trapp inspired positivity is going to change that fact. It has made me very, very sick. It makes me feel utterly, utterly exhausted. It has taken a toll on my loved ones. It has put an unfair strain on my still-less-than-a-year-old marriage. It has made our move to NYC harder, and more complicated.
Six weeks before my 30th birthday, I was faced with my own mortality. I was told that if I did not undergo treatment, I would be dead in a month. It was sobering. Treatment was no picnic. I feel like it was worse for the friends and family who looked on feeling helpless (they were not helpless. Their very presence was a gift), all I had to do was lie there. A week ago, I filled out a form that gave instructions for what to do in the event that I couldn’t make decisions for myself.
In terms of a bad situation, I truly don’t have the worst scenario. For now, I’m at home in Brooklyn (!!), in a sunny and spacious apartment, with my truly wonderful and loving husband. I’m receiving treatment at one of the top hospitals on the planet. I have been given an amazing insight into the truly wonderful support network and web of love I am a part of (as written about previously). I have been able to understand how I have positively impacted on other people’s lives. I am loved, held, and cherished.
Friends and family have started asking what I’d like for my birthday. I honestly can’t think of anything materially. I want to be cured. I want to be well. I want to live for another 50-60 years and snuggle my darling husband and tell him every day for forever how much I love him. I want to sing and dance on Broadway and trip the light fantastic and and teach voice and stage plays and write stories and travel to places I haven’t seen. I want to eat delicious food and grow my own veggies and volunteer in community gardens. I want to explore our new neighborhood. I want to play in NYC. I want to read books, see shows, watch films. I want to meet Julie Andrews and thank her for raising me. I want to meet Patti LuPone and thank her for inspiring me. I want to meet Geoffrey Rush and do a master class with him. I want to work. I want to play. I want to live.
In three days, I will be turning 30. I’m in NYC. I'm bald, and dammit, I'm fabulous. There will be no picnic in Central Park, or a Broadway show, or cocktails. That’ll happen when I’m better (you’re all invited. Details to follow). For now, here are my birthday requests (10 for September 10th). They are things I love and want to share. Please do one, some, or any of the below.
You are welcome to share this post. You are welcome to write and share your stories, I'd love to hear from you (although my replies may be slow... chemo brain is real!).
With love and gratitude,
Lu xx
Cancer sucks. I’m not going to lie. No amount of Julie Andrews-Mary Poppins-Maria Von Trapp inspired positivity is going to change that fact. It has made me very, very sick. It makes me feel utterly, utterly exhausted. It has taken a toll on my loved ones. It has put an unfair strain on my still-less-than-a-year-old marriage. It has made our move to NYC harder, and more complicated.
Six weeks before my 30th birthday, I was faced with my own mortality. I was told that if I did not undergo treatment, I would be dead in a month. It was sobering. Treatment was no picnic. I feel like it was worse for the friends and family who looked on feeling helpless (they were not helpless. Their very presence was a gift), all I had to do was lie there. A week ago, I filled out a form that gave instructions for what to do in the event that I couldn’t make decisions for myself.
In terms of a bad situation, I truly don’t have the worst scenario. For now, I’m at home in Brooklyn (!!), in a sunny and spacious apartment, with my truly wonderful and loving husband. I’m receiving treatment at one of the top hospitals on the planet. I have been given an amazing insight into the truly wonderful support network and web of love I am a part of (as written about previously). I have been able to understand how I have positively impacted on other people’s lives. I am loved, held, and cherished.
Friends and family have started asking what I’d like for my birthday. I honestly can’t think of anything materially. I want to be cured. I want to be well. I want to live for another 50-60 years and snuggle my darling husband and tell him every day for forever how much I love him. I want to sing and dance on Broadway and trip the light fantastic and and teach voice and stage plays and write stories and travel to places I haven’t seen. I want to eat delicious food and grow my own veggies and volunteer in community gardens. I want to explore our new neighborhood. I want to play in NYC. I want to read books, see shows, watch films. I want to meet Julie Andrews and thank her for raising me. I want to meet Patti LuPone and thank her for inspiring me. I want to meet Geoffrey Rush and do a master class with him. I want to work. I want to play. I want to live.
In three days, I will be turning 30. I’m in NYC. I'm bald, and dammit, I'm fabulous. There will be no picnic in Central Park, or a Broadway show, or cocktails. That’ll happen when I’m better (you’re all invited. Details to follow). For now, here are my birthday requests (10 for September 10th). They are things I love and want to share. Please do one, some, or any of the below.
- Write to someone you have been thinking kindly about. Make it a person you have not spoken to in a long time. Do it without expectation of a response. Tell them you’ve been thinking of them and why.
- Buy a copy of The Big Issue, or equivalent street mag, from the next vendor you see.
- Pay attention to your breath for one minute. Don’t worry about whether you’re “doing it right” or breathing “properly”. Just pause and watch your breath go in and out for one minute. Repeat throughout the day as you remember this request.
- Read an actual book. Not on a device, an actual book. Smell the pages. Feel the pages between your fingers. Savor the delicious feeling of being-almost-at-the-end and not wanting it to be finished.
- That instrument you’ve always wanted to learn? Work out right now how you can get a hold of that instrument, and seek out lessons. The internet is an amazing place.
- Seek out your local farmer’s market. Buy something you’ve never seen/eaten before and learn what to do with it.
- If you are willing and able, donate blood and/or platelets. Google it right now to find out where you can do so in your city. If you can’t donate, consider sharing information on how to do so.
- If you are willing and able, sign up to be a donor on the bone marrow registry in your country. You could be a life-saving match for someone. Google it right now to find out where you can do so in your city.
- Be kind to yourself. No really. Stop being so hard on yourself. You are awesome and more loved and valued than you realize.
- Remember that you are alive. Remember your passions and what makes your spine tingle with delight, your heart race, and your soul feel happy. Allow yourself to feel sad when you’re down. It’s ok. This too shall pass. The good, the bad, the ugly. Just be here.
You are welcome to share this post. You are welcome to write and share your stories, I'd love to hear from you (although my replies may be slow... chemo brain is real!).
With love and gratitude,
Lu xx
- Published on
They say there is nothing new under the sun
But change is the only constant
Find new for yourself
Discover a new everyday
Singing with Indigo Trio was a delight
To learn new music that no other singer has sung before
To explore new songs
To play with other musicians and discover the new
Make changes
Every morning
Under this sun of ours
That glowing ball of chemistry
Is a new day
Original. New or back to the source from whence it came
All is light
All is song and dance
To find the new and make it your own
To be unafraid and just go out and do it
To conquer the old sayings
And make change
Make bliss
This is delight
But change is the only constant
Find new for yourself
Discover a new everyday
Singing with Indigo Trio was a delight
To learn new music that no other singer has sung before
To explore new songs
To play with other musicians and discover the new
Make changes
Every morning
Under this sun of ours
That glowing ball of chemistry
Is a new day
Original. New or back to the source from whence it came
All is light
All is song and dance
To find the new and make it your own
To be unafraid and just go out and do it
To conquer the old sayings
And make change
Make bliss
This is delight
- Published on
Image by Josephine Wall
Oh the joy of music
To play to sing to listen to watch
To play a freshly serviced flute
It’s like playing a new instrument
It’s fun to hit the high notes and not have to push as hard
It’s so satisfying to play and be so immersed in the music and suddenly a whole hour has passed
Sometimes the notes elude you and jump about the page and make no sense
Other times it’s like, well, music
And black notes and lines become melodies
And gloriousness
To connect with Bach
Who lived over two hundred years ago
Whole lifetimes and continents away
And yet here I am
This girl in Sydney, Australia playing Bach!
Playing Chaminade and French Romance melodies and twentieth century abstractions and studies and scales
How incredible that I should be here
In this time and space
Playing music written hundreds of years ago!
Sharing music with children
Spreading musical love across generations
My grandmother and my mother gave it to me
Remember sitting in the lounge room watching The Pajama Game with Abuela and she knew all the words. She sat there singing,
I’m not at all in love!
And you looked at her in wonder! She knows all the words!!!
And now I pass it on to children through teaching
Kids this is music and it is the best thing since sliced bread
Sharing knowledge of melodies and dynamics and inspiring people to dance and sing and act
Today I found myself telling fifty children that performing is the best thing ever
And I meant it
How exciting how thrilling how joyous
The exhausting heartbreaking wonderful thrill of it
Music! As Jonathan Larson wrote: “food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, rhythm, feeling, power, harmony, and heavy competition!!!!”
I’ve done my practise for the day
The girl next door is playing her violin
Houses apart, worlds apart, connected by music
To play to sing to listen to watch
To play a freshly serviced flute
It’s like playing a new instrument
It’s fun to hit the high notes and not have to push as hard
It’s so satisfying to play and be so immersed in the music and suddenly a whole hour has passed
Sometimes the notes elude you and jump about the page and make no sense
Other times it’s like, well, music
And black notes and lines become melodies
And gloriousness
To connect with Bach
Who lived over two hundred years ago
Whole lifetimes and continents away
And yet here I am
This girl in Sydney, Australia playing Bach!
Playing Chaminade and French Romance melodies and twentieth century abstractions and studies and scales
How incredible that I should be here
In this time and space
Playing music written hundreds of years ago!
Sharing music with children
Spreading musical love across generations
My grandmother and my mother gave it to me
Remember sitting in the lounge room watching The Pajama Game with Abuela and she knew all the words. She sat there singing,
I’m not at all in love!
And you looked at her in wonder! She knows all the words!!!
And now I pass it on to children through teaching
Kids this is music and it is the best thing since sliced bread
Sharing knowledge of melodies and dynamics and inspiring people to dance and sing and act
Today I found myself telling fifty children that performing is the best thing ever
And I meant it
How exciting how thrilling how joyous
The exhausting heartbreaking wonderful thrill of it
Music! As Jonathan Larson wrote: “food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, rhythm, feeling, power, harmony, and heavy competition!!!!”
I’ve done my practise for the day
The girl next door is playing her violin
Houses apart, worlds apart, connected by music