Wednesday, August 17, 2011


I’m lying here in my bed at 11pm at night and I just thought, “yep, it’s time for another blog entry.” I was just trying to compose some music, but it’s a bit difficult right now without a piano. I think I’d much rather be playing the guitar or piano now, making up some song. Some kind of creative spirit is going around, but I’m not quite sure how to capture it, so I’ll just write.

A very wise professor once told our class that we are all ‘time smiths’ – that is to say, we as musicians have a unique perspective on observing time. In our life, we don’t remember our beginnings (birth) and we can’t recognize or perceive our ends (death). Yet, in music, we get to reflect, moment by moment, on a something’s (a piece of music’s) birth and death. Never have I been so understanding of that until now. I watch a young student begin a piece, and I know that its end will arrive in the near future and I can await its arrival. Then, invariably, the piece’s end does arrive, and it is then that I reflect on how that time has passed. The days here fly by and each night I look up at the stars here, thinking about how each night arrives so quickly. It’s simply a strange phenomenon when you take a moment to reflect on the passage of time, how constant it is, how unstoppable it is, and really how strange it is.

It feels as though I’ve been here a month, but only has it been a week! I feel as though I have grown a great deal in only one week, too. It’s been tough in some ways, but more unbelievable than anything. I can imagine that teaching students is something like being a parent, where you suddenly realize that this is your duty—to insure that whatever knowledge you have attained is passed on to the next generation. It’s another strange feeling to observe: the fact that we have a right to teach the young only because we’ve been here longer. I’m trying to learn a lot from them, too, to be sure.

I had my voice students the other day and I was quite nervous about starting voice lessons. They were by far one of the most fun experiences I’ve had though! I don’t love my voice, but I’m willing to pass on what lessons I may and thereby get to grow a great deal in the process. Well, to sum up my feelings, I’d say I feel like one of the luckiest people alive. I feel like there is a great deal of love around me (from many of you), I go to sleep in a wonderfully comfortable bed, and I get to be paid to learn and do what I love! What more could I ask for? Well, I still ask for things, selfishly. I would love to have a clear plan of my future holds… but that would be boring, wouldn’t it? Each night as I look at the stars, I just have to smile and think how they just keep appearing every night, and how I can pretty much trust that tomorrow night will arrive and the stars will be there for me to see.

I wish many of you were here with me to see this place and share its joys and sorrows. I can’t imagine myself anywhere else than here at this point in my life. Thinking of you all as I fall asleep, Dani.


  1. As a former teacher,(7 years as a home school teacher) I really appreciate your perspective on being a teacher. I can almost see the stars in the sky from your writing, too! Well said, in every way, and glad things are going well for you...

  2. I can see how seriously you take your mission in teaching, is lovely. And as for your voice, it is very delicate and as beautiful as a freshly blossomed flower.

  3. Hey Pod, this is my absolute favorite post yet. Like Aunt Catherine, I too can see the stars. It also made me think of that amazing night that we stood in Peru looking up at that Southern night and seeing the Southern Cross. A highlight of my life. I can't wait to see the Tanzanaian sky to compare. Write more - this was awesome and I shared some of it at work today. The gals are following you too. Love you most, moma