A Little Comforting Thought

I will start touring tomorrow. Compared to the tour I've done before, this is the one I am most unexcited about. Too bad. Of all the tough things I must deal, sometimes the consolation is being with the artists, exchanging ideas and thoughts and learning about themselves and their lives, while they get a glimpse of my life. 

One thing I most enjoy about this profession is the relationship I have with the artists. With almost all of them, I go from manager to friend, and it's always so much easier to work with friends. You can be more transparent, understanding, accommodating, and we can help each other to our best. But there are certain people with whom such nature can be hard to develop, and then managing them isn't so much fun anymore. 

But as hard as it is, as difficult as they can be, I have to stick to my work ethic, first and foremost. At the moment I'm scared, so scared, that things would not go as well as I've planned, but the show must go on. Things have already been so complicated, and although I know that things are going to be fine in the end, I really, really wish that I can at least enjoy the process of getting to the end.  

Right now I'm trying to empty my mind, let go of all my fears, and take one thing at a time. One comforting thought I read today is that you don't have to be afraid if you're strong. It's when you're weak that you have to worry.

I know I'm strong, so I shall prevail.  

Managing Small Fuss

The end of a concert season always brings a headache.

Since 2008 I set up a pattern of finishing every cycle of activities with the music camp. The camp itself is a big event with long and tedious preparation, and there are always 1-2 concerts surrounding it. Normally it starts with the faculty concert or recital, followed by a closing concert at the very end of everything.

This year I've got eight concerts surrounding the camp. Six by the faculty artists for the string department, one by the only international pianist I have this year, and one to wrap the camp. And it's major headache. Major with a capital M. 

Organising one single concert is already a complex process. First you have to liaise with venue authority, then the artist(s), then the public. You have to coordinate and make sure that you have authorisation to use a certain hall at a certain date, then you discuss concert programme with the artists, then you make posters and flyers and any other publicity items so that people will come to the hall. With 8 concerts, it means you have to liaise with 8 venues and make sure that people will come to all these places so that all the trees cut to produce concert tickets will not be wasted.

What's making all this process complicated is that each time, you have to deal with human beings. Some of them are really good and helpful and quick and responsive, not to mention kind and generous and warm. When you meet this kind of people, your job is already 60 percent easier. But sometimes you have no choice but to deal with morons and idiots and people whose sole purpose in life is to make other people's life harder. (Yes, there are people like that.) And when you deal with this kind of people, you just want to forget about the whole thing. 

But I wish it were that easy to dismiss people. There are cases when you don't have a good bargaining position and then the people you're facing are not really too understanding or too compassionate, and then they ask too much. 

Sometimes this happens with international artists whom I invite. Some of them, young people mostly, are easy-going and adventurous and all they care about is making music, making impact and establishing relationship with as many people as possible. But some can be quite difficult and amazingly produce a list of nice things they must have during their stay. Things that are non-musical. When they don't get what they want, they don't have enough manner to conceal their unhappiness.

In the past, I tried as much as I can to comply to all their wish. But sometimes with budget constraint and lack of support, my hands are tied. These days, however, I have learnt to stop being apologetic about it. In a country where classical music is still a luxury item, and with me fighting almost alone to bring music to the people, I think it's fair to say that I have always done and tried my best, but if my best isn't good enough, I will rest my case. But I will not spend all my resources to provide heavenly treat for these kind of people when I can use it for greater good, like allowing one person to come and learn in my camp. After all, this is what it's all about in the first place.       

Farewell to Arms

"Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be."

No, this isn't about Hemingway's book. 

This is about me (sorry, this is my blog so some of its content will be about me) saying goodbye to the fact that my arms will no longer be used to take care of classical music and it's people. In a way, I'm saying goodbye to my own power to make a change, but life is a choice and I finally choose to do this although by my heart is heavy. 

There are certain things in life that knocks on your door and before you invite them in, they are already there in your living room and you let them because it just happens (like love) or because your instinct tells you exactly what to do with them. You don't need to call someone and ask about their opinion, you just know that you should serve them tea not coffee with biscuit and you get that feel in your bone that they want two sugars. I think everybody somehow waits for these things which I called "calling". Some of us who are not finding it yet can drift in mid-air, eating, drinking, going to work like everybody else, but you can always tell those who have found their calling and those who haven't. And those who have found it are privileged. Like me. 

Once in a fundraising concert I organized for my 4 friends who will go to Toulouse, the concert host asked me why I bother to go through all the trouble for them, but what he probably didn't realize is that it's an honour to do a job you love, whether it's for myself or for someone else. The subject isn't really my 4 friends, but the work itself. And I must say, doing all those preparations with them gave me the greatest joy, and I wouldn't trade that for anything. (Okay, maybe for a really nice, smart, wise and loving husband). 

But not many people can understand this. Especially if fulfilling my duty could mean sacrificing everything I have got in this world. I wouldn't mind, of course, but people like my parents who never had the privilege of receiving a calling and living up to it just couldn't follow my logic. And it makes them unhappy. And when they are unhappy, I can't be happy either. 

My parents just found out that I'm again in danger of facing financial problems because of my camp, and my mum is already walking like a ghost, terrified, unable to get rid of all unfortunate events (which she cultivates herself) which might befall me should I end up with (more) debts. And all for ivory-tower project called music camp, so they say. 

And that's when I decide to stop all this. 

I'm too tired fighting alone out there to change people's way of thinking. I'm tired of saying to people like a broken record that education is an investment and all the money you ever spend for it will go back to your life and multiply. I'm tired of showing people the possibilities you can have and opportunities you can access if you have good education. And now if I have to fight this belief in front of people who should believe in me, who should not question my faith in what I do, who should become my stones in tough times, then I just simply can't do it. It's too much negative energy and in the end, there were no more happiness.

Sad as I am right now, at least I have managed to help 4 people realize their dreams. That's my only consolation. And because of what we have done together for the past 9 months, I can say that when they go, they will bring my dreams with them because we will leave a part of ourselves behind for each and everyone of us. When they leave me, I will also leave who I was, and who knows, maybe I will go to who I might become.    

The Art of Letting Go

I love the internet, I must confess now. I've closed my Facebook account, and since that I've been having more time doing useful websurfing, and the internet is one humongous ocean. It's a powerful tool, too. You can ask anything and it will give you answer, even for something very specific like letting go. 

If you typed "how to let go" on Google search, you'll get 124 million results, ranging from articles to videos. And seriously, a lot of people have difficulty with this because according to one site, "letting go is one of the hardest lessons in life."

Letting go is one of the skills I constantly learn because I think I'm actually naturally clingy (Gosh, Stephen King's going to be very cross with me for using two adverbs in a row). My mum managed to make me independent physically and mentally, but I have that tendency to stick to something or some people (that's why I only collect very few close friends), and I've been avoiding this all my life. People can be very disappointing and they can make you go nuts if you cling to them, and things change all the time so if you want to build stability, you should be a place to cling on, not the other way around. And I like stability. Stability is good. Stability is comforting. 

But since I found my vocation, it gets harder to let go, especially if I'm doing a project that has a great cause. Like my Toulouse project. 

Now let  me tell you a bit about this project. After last year's camp, I was sitting next to my good-cellist friend Damien Ventula, who was also the faculty artist of that year, during the closing concert. We were watching one of the best performance that night, and suddenly he said, "We really should fly these people to Europe, make them study well. They love to play, and they want to learn, so we should give them a chance."

Afterward, we made a sketch and a picture was formed and the plan was: we're going to try to bring four alumni of the camp to Toulouse, his home town, to study. He's thinking of all the smart scheme and I'm to help with the preparation. We were not to say anything until he can fix something there, and when he gave me the green light, I got in touch with Fantastic Four and told them the great news. 

They were ecstatic, and seeing their unbelieving, surprised, but happy faces, I was even more ecstatic. I started to plan fundraising concerts and everything and dreaming about the day when I would say goodbye to them at the airport. It's going to be a story that ends happily ever-after. 

At first, I was happy to help. I was joyful. I was enjoying all those hours when we would rehearse at night then eat brownies and ice cream and talk and joke and dream about days bright and beautiful in Toulouse. I was sitting like a proud mama during the fundraising concerts, texting people so they would come to the concert (like a freakish, overly-ambitious mother), and all other things I could think about. 

In the meantime, unconsciously, I became too attached to this project, and to the people. And again, people can be disappointing. 

Two weeks ago we received news from D. He said we can go through the conservatory, but after I checked, the admission is in September, which means they only have 2 months to prepare themselves for audition. 

Reality bites: From the two fundraising concerts, they only have about E500 which will be enough only for enrolment to the conservatory. Unless they want to bike to Europe, sure, they can go. Their French is almost zero, and they don't have anything to play for their future teachers nor for the audition. 

In short: they're a joke. 

At that point it hit me that all of them are still seeing the situation with rose-coloured glasses. They are holding on to hopes and dreams and sheer dumb luck, but none of them are really preparing themselves and none of them are really aware that they need to work hard for this cause. They didn't even try hard enough to sell tickets so they can collect enough money to finance their own education. And at that point, I know that I had to let go, so they can grow. As much as I love them and this project, I know that this is the moment when they need to take their fate in their own hands. 

There's a good quote on one of the page I visited, by an unknown author. It said, "There are things that we never want to let go of, people we never want to leave behind. But keep in mind that letting go isn't the end of the world. It's the beginning of a new life." I took a deep breath, and let go, as I wrote this. I hope this isn't the end of the world for them. But I know for sure it will be a new life for me. 

Serenity Prayer

Dear God,
Grant me
the serenity
to accept things I cannot change,
the courage
to change things I can,
and the wisdom
to know the difference. 

A Conceit

Give me your hand

Make room for me

to lead and follow you

beyond this rage of poetry.

Let others have

the privacy of

touching words

and love of loss

of love.

For me

Give me your hand. 

Maya Angelou

Weird-Bird

Photo (C) Jimmy Perdana (www.cherfrans.tumblr.com)

Birds are flyin' south for winter.

Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,

Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',

Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.

He says, "It's not that I like ice

Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.

It's just sometimes it's kind of nice

To be the only bird in town."

Shel Silverstein

A Broken Appointment

Photo (C) Jimmy Perdana (www.cherfrans.tumblr.com)

You did not come,

And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb.

Yet less for loss of your dear presence there

Than that I thus found lacking in your make

That high compassion which can overbear

Reluctance for pure loving kindness' sake

Grieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum,

You did not come. 

You love me not,

And love alone can lend you loyalty;

- I know and knew it. But, unto the store

Of human deeds divine in all but name,

Was it not worth a little hour or more

To add yet this: Once you, a woman, came

To soothe a time-torn man; even though it be

You love me not. 

Thomas Hardy

Berlin, 17.7.2004

Photo (C) Jimmy Perdana (www.cherfrans.tumblr.com)

Tuhan,

Cukupkan aku dengan diri-Mu.

Karna rasa tak selalu ada,

dan bahkan dua orang yang saling mencinta,

kadang tak bisa menjadi satu.

Berlin, New Year's Eve, 2004

Photo (C) Vivera Arfans

God,

I can't let go, 

I love him so.

Berlin, 24.11.2004

Photo (C) Jimmy Perdana (www.cherfrans.tumblr.com)

Dan saat itu,

Kau akan mencariku sampai ke tepi dunia

sampai jiwamu yang lelah temukan batas cakrawala.

Dan segalanya tentangku

yang tak pernah padam dalam benakmu

membuatmu tak bisa berlalu. 

Tidak tanpa aku.

Berlin, 6.11.2004

Photo (C) Jimmy Perdana (www.cherfrans.tumblr.com)

Suatu hari:

Cinta datang tiba-tiba

Untuk tinggal sesaat,

lalu beranjak. 

Suatu hari:

Semua cerita jadi kepingan cermin retak,

saat cinta berlalu

seperti angin yang terbangkan debu. 

Suatu hari kusadari,

kalau cinta bisa hidup di hari kemarin,

yang sudah berlalu dan bisu,

atau di hari esok,

yang belum pasti datang,

tapi bukan di hari ini. 

Suatu hari nanti,

Aku mesti berdamai:

dengan mimpi.

Scheveningen, 27.06.04

Photo (C) Jimmy Perdana (www.cherfrans.tumblr.com)

Sands and winds -

ships and fish with chips -

Ella Fitzgerald in my ears:

and swallowed tears. 

Fishermans' bars with wood smells -

Clam, mussels, and the shells -

Colourful dresses, lovely laces:

and missed embraces. 

The world is there, in front of me!

But without you,

how lonely.

Berlin, 6.9.2004

Photo (C) Jimmy Perdana (www.cherfrans.tumblr.com)

Aku ingin membawamu ke negeri matahari, 

negeri cinta dan suka hati. 

Aku ingin menyinarimu dengan cahaya,

yang kan hangatkan jiwa. 

Aku ingin mendekapmu dalam duniaku,

yang banyak, dan yang satu. 

Aku ingin mendengarmu dalam sunyi,

yang indah dan suci saat kita sendiri.

Aku ingin menjagamu selamanya,

karna kau berikan dirimu seutuhnya. 

Aku ingin memelukmu dalam tiada,

tapi nyata, karena kita bersama.

Aku ingin mencintaimu,

dan dicintaimu,

sepanjang hidupku. 

Berlin, 3.10.2004

(C) Jimmy Perdana

(Cinta datang satu hari,

dan membisiki mimpi-mimpi,

menghiasi dinding jiwaku,

dengan gambar tentangmu.)

Kau takkan bisa menyuruhnya pergi,

karna dia bukan milikmu. 

Ia milik sang hati,

yang juga bukan kepunyaanmu. 

Kau takkan bisa menukar apa yang kurasa,

dengan tujuh keajaiban dunia,

karna apa yang ada dalam diriku,

juga bukan kepunyaanku. 

Jadi jangan suruh dia pergi,

biar perih luka yang kau gurat, 

biar dalam sakit yang kau buat.

Biar saja sang waktu,

membawanya lalu. 

Kau takkan bisa menyuruhku

untuk berhenti mencintaimu. 

Berlin, 26.10.2004

(C) Jimmy Perdana

Sepertinya akan kuhabiskan musim gugur ini sendiri saja,

dengan cinta yang tersia-sia,

dan rasa yang mengais asa di tumpukan daun berwarna jingga. 

Sepertinya baru kemarin kita berdua,

dalam dunia yang kaya warna,

saat kurasa mentari yang hangatkan hati,

membawamu pergi. 

Seperti kutub selatan dan utara,

sepasang, tapi tak pernah bersama.

Jadi sepertinya:

akan kuhabiskan musim gugur ini sendiri saja. 

Quitting Point

I got the picture above from http://positivesharing.com/2007/06/find-your-quitting-point/. Anyone wants to quit their job should visit that site. You will probably be even more sure about quitting, like me, or you will think that you haven't done your best and so you can try some more. 

You see that third hill on that graphic? I'm on that point right now. I am standing right at the top of that hill, and unless there's a miracle happening my way, gravity will be pulling me under. Yes, that's the part that starts with "New psychotic..." except that I am my own employer, so I don't need to worry about psychotic anyone to boss me around, but what's really taking a toll on me is the major setback which I'm about to face. And in my prayer I said, if God wants me to stay in the business, He would do something to keep me from taking a free fall along that last line. And it's a damn long line. Which pretty much symbolize my life in the next 5 years, if that major setback really takes place. 

Now, if I'm surfing along that line and NOT quitting, please feel free to call me idiot. 

Alex Kjerulf, the guy who writes the site, summed it up for me: "it’s simple: If your job does not make you happy you should first try to fix it. If there’s no realistic hope that you ever will, it’s time to get out of Dodge."

**************

The very basic thing that makes it hard for me to quit is this fact: I love my job. In some aspects, I am totally good at it, and I excel. I know that, and it feels really good to know that. But in other aspects, I totally suck and the people I work with are even sucker, and together they succeed in neutralizing all my positive energy. 

On my first year, I was totally happy and even if there were some unfortunate job-related events, I was willing to carry all the burden myself, knowing that some people were getting something valuable in their lives. And because of that, I even felt privileged. But after four years, after knowing the fact that these people I have helped have not actually changed for the better, despite the value they got, I felt used. 

So when that feeling started to seep in, my gut instinct told me it's enough. At least for now. I can come back to this job years later, when people have changed. Until it happens, I will still facing that downward slope. 

My trip to Paris also reminded me of things I used to love before I got so wrapped up in my vocation and occupation. And it's time to pursue those things again. If I don't quit my job now, or after the camp, I am forever stuck in this place, sacrificing my life for the betterment of others. Life might pass me by and I might not even be aware of it. 

Quitting will be a good thing, I know it to the core. It's hard, but many wonderful things will come after this difficult period. I can see myself looking at the next period playing more music, taking more lazy students, getting back to the root of my training, going back to the reason why I did all these crazy stuffs, reading more books, listening to more CDs, hanging out with my BFF before she gets transferred to another territory, and visiting my nephews and nieces more often. In the meantime, I would probably develop new interests in origami, or cooking, or I might even lead a life of a hermit and stay at home all year round. Whatever the case, it's going to be a new adventure and like every other new adventure I have had in life, it's going to be exciting.