You never know when creative ideas will surface, so I try to keep my heart open to the muse at all times, even when I’m sleeping. For example, in the middle of the night last night, the letters L-M-N-O-P popped into my mind. Perhaps, like “LMNOP” in the alphabet song, the last couple of months have felt like a mashup of musical events, one leading right into the other. Those events have included working as a Visiting Artist in Western Washington, attending local performances, practicing, and teaching. Can you spot the LMNOP in the post below?

Lynden, Washington: For the past few weekends, I’ve been on the road to Redmond, Renton, Auburn, and Lynden—all destinations in Western Washington. This was my first time in Lynden,  a charming, serene small town very near the Canadian border. There, I worked with six teachers and sixteen students whose pieces were magnificently prepared and polished. Our event took place in the middle of a beautiful art gallery on a Schimmel concert grand. When I wasn’t working with students, I enjoyed walking around the downtown area, visiting the bookstore, eating tasty food, and savoring my boutique hotel experience at the Lynden Inn, which used to be a department store back in the day.

Magical Music Moments: While in Renton at  the Red Door Music Studio of  Mary Kay Owen,  I was touched that she had each student warm up with a pioneer song from the Old West as a nod to my book, Music in the Westward Expansion: Songs of Heart and Place on the American Frontier. In addition, when one of the young pianists performed a piece called  Morning in Yellowstone, I was moved to tears at the tenderness and emotional depth of her performance.

Northwest Boy Choir: One of my piano students, Mikey, is  member of the Northwest Boy Choir. Recently his family (Thank you Walt, Karla, Sophia, and Mikey), treated me to a stunning concert at St. Stephens Episcopal Church  featuring a combination of folk and modern songs along with the Fauré Requiem. The performance of How Can I Keep From Singing,  like Morning in Yellowstone, moved me to tears.

My life flows on in endless song
Above earth’s lamentation.
I hear the real, though far off hymn
That hails a new creation.
Above the tumult and the strife,
I hear its music ringing

It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?

Opera: My friend  Marianne and  I attended Seattle Opera’s latest production – Fellow Travelers. Featuring a small cast, it tells the story of government workers who were persecuted because of their sexual orientation in the McCarthy era. What’s more, the opera is a universal story of love, suffering, betrayal, friendship, and strength of character. I’m still thinking about  the music, the libretto, the set, the costumes,  the singers, and the story.

Walt working with visiting artist Dr. Gabriel Mañalac.

Piano (and voice) Lessons: Along side the  travel,  working with students on the road,  attending productions, and preparing my own music for upcoming performances,  there’s the constant wheel of teaching private lessons in my studio. Particularly inpsiring  to me are my adult students. There’s Sean,  a  voice student,  with a lovely baritone voice who is revisiting singing as a creative outlet and as a personal challenge (you should hear him sing Sixteen Tons!).  Walt is an advanced student who beautifully played a Haydn Sonata and Bach Invention for a Seattle Music Artistry Program; Karen recently purchased a new piano and is all in as far as practicing, attending weekly lessons, and bringing a willing attitude and humor  to the challenge of learning to play; Lynh,  an early intermediate student  has already learned to play the theme from Pride and Prejudice, the theme from Pirates of the Caribbean, and is now working on an arrangement of  Nothing Else Matters by Metallica.

Along with these joyful musical events, lessons,  and the daily activities of life, I find myself part of a tiny team, along with my brother Scott and my  beloved Aunt Jeannie. Together we are managing the health care and the living situation for my mom in Montana.

Scott and Laura on the Missouri River walk on a cold morning in Great Falls, Montana

I’m struck that in the middle of difficult personal and family challenges and the day- to-day business of living  a life of music, it is possible to hold the duality of joy while also experiencing sorrow. I’m reminded of this beautiful quote:

I will find new meaning in every joy and sorrow.
— Rumi