I started working on a new piece today. I feel compelled. I HAVE to write it.

It is called “Chakras” for woodwind quintet and percussion.

Chakras is a musical depiction of the awakening of spiritual awareness. In many esoteric traditions, ordinary human consciousness is depicted as a coiled serpent sleeping at the base of the spine. The sleeping serpent represents potential. It is man’s fallen consciousness.

As the serpent (or “kundalini” in Eastern traditions) awakens, it begins its path upward through the seven energy centers called “Chakras”.

Each Chakra is associated with certain areas of awareness or consciousness. As each Chakra is energized and brought into balance, one becomes more awakened and conscious.

Ultimately, as the kundalini reaches the seventh Chakra of infinite awareness, one becomes fully enlightened and experiences oneness with God.

I do not claim to be an enlightened being. I can only use my imagination to create a stylized musical depiction of the awakening of kundalini and the process of each Chakra being energized and brought into balance.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written a chamber work. It feels good to be writing for a small ensemble. It forces me to think more about the music itself rather than what to do with all the instruments. (Plus, it goes faster. I’ve only got a few parts to worry about!)

I believe chamber music is the testing ground of composers. I regret not having written more chamber music. But it’s never too late for anything.

Expect more to come.

I sincerely believe there is room in the world for anyone with true talent and a passion for composing. Yet many talented composers are not successful.

Why?

Based on my own history, I believe it comes down to a handful of reasons…

1. Laziness (in composing, in marketing, in general)
2. Fear (of success / failure)
3. Lack of self confidence (which relates to fear)
4. Pride (assuming people should come to you… or that you’re too good for marketing)
5. Lack of complete trust in the Universe/God to open the right doors for you
6. Lack of knowledge and skill in sales and marketing

All of the above have held me back in previous years. (I’ll be blogging in more detail about each of these soon.) Fortunately, anyone can learn from their past mistakes and change their behavior.

Here’s what forced me to learn…

In January 2006, I gave up on my music career. I was broke and frustrated. My career seemed to be going nowhere.

In hindsight, I can see how I was the only one to blame for my failure. But it took a drastic change in my life to see it.

So what was it?

I became an entrepreneur.

I went into the business world and learned about accounting, marketing, sales, etc. I worked as an accounting manager… then as a marketing director for small manufacturing company. Then, I started my own business as a marketing consultant and copywriter, which I still do to a limited extent today.

There is nothing like starting your own business to force you to face yourself and your own shortcomings.

As an entrepreneur, I had to learn what it took just to stay afloat and keep the rent paid. There were times when I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, afraid I would wind up homeless.

But I stuck with it.

I eventually learned how to let go and trust that things would work out if I just did my part.

As I’ve explained before, this blog is a chronicle of my journey toward becoming a successful concert composer. I am not yet earning a full-time living from composing. So from a strictly monetary standpoint, I cannot yet claim to be “successful”. I’ve only just begun to get clear about my goal and serious about reaching it.

I’m writing this blog out of service. One day, I will lecture on how to become established and successful as a composer… and this blog will serve as a chronicle for how I got there.

My training as an entrepreneur… my trust in God… my burning desire to simply write great music. All will aid me in my journey.

And I can’t wait to be teaching others how to follow their dream and be successful at it, too. I feel that is as much a part of my mission as writing music.

In my next post, I’ll talk about how composing is pretty much like any other business…

Part of the purpose of this blog is to document my journey toward becoming a successful composer.

One of the things I learned as an entrepreneur is the importance of setting and defining goals. Vague statements like “I want to be successful” aren’t very helpful.

A goal must be specific. It must be reachable. And you need to have a plan for reaching it. So… what, specifically, does it mean to me to be “successful”?

First off, I want to separate the association of “successful” with “wealth”. Wealth is only one component–a byproduct–of true success.

To me, success is living life with no regrets. It is being happy and fulfilled. It is doing what you feel is your true mission here on on Earth.

Furthermore, you must be working only on projects you’re sincerely interested in working on–not for the money, but because you really want to do them, and you would still do them (or at least wouldn’t mind doing them) even if they didn’t pay a dime.

To me, that is the foundation of true success. Unless you’re on the right path and living a fulfilled life, it doesn’t matter how much money you’re making. You’re not truly successful.

That said, part of being “on mission” is living in abundance. After all, why would the Universe send you down a path if It doesn’t provide for you along the way?

Money, like it or not, is an important component of being successful. Money is the medium through which we acquire needed goods and services to maintain our lives.

Let’s start with this baseline: you must earn enough income from your passion to keep the bills paid and provide for your needs (not necessarily wants) without having to do other less desirable things to make ends meet.

In my case, I live modestly. I live in a small apartment in an older building. I don’t have car payments. I can get by with as little as $18,000 / year.

Granted, that’s not a lot of money. And most people wouldn’t define $18,000 as anywhere near “successful”. But as I said earlier, my measure of success has more to do with fulfilling a mission than any particular dollar amount.

All you take with you into your next life are your experiences. Everything else is left behind. I’d rather spend my few decades on Earth doing something I love than “sell out” for the sake of nicer things.

So $18,000 / year will be my first benchmark of success. Ultimately, I’d like to be earning six figures a year as a composer. But I’ve got to start someplace.

So far this year, I’ve earned $1000 as a composer. It was prize money for winning a competition. That means my goal is to bring in another $17,000 by the end of the year.

How will I do that?

I’ll talk more about my plan of action in my next post. Stay tuned…

I am six months into my renewed quest to become established as a composer. Some great things have happened during that time. But it’s not as if exciting things are happening everyday. So I have to keep reminding myself how far I’ve come in the last six months.

What keeps me going is faith. I believe each person has a mandate from the universe to follow their true passion. And if you simply do that–trusting that it is the right path for you and that the Universe will provide–then opportunities will open themselves up to you.

Right now, I’m kind of feeling like I’m in a “lull”. Nothing really exciting has happened in awhile, other than meeting some interesting people.

I’m behind on bills. I’m not sure where the next check will come from. But I still trust.

Perhaps this is my “testing” period to test my resolve. But there is nothing else I want to do. I’m a composer. And I’m too old to take any more detours away from my passion. I’m not giving up. Not this time.

I’m taking what actions I can take. I’m often limited by lack of funds, but I do what I can, which is all that can be expected.

And I pray.

Life is a journey. It is a process of co-creation with God. And all journeys have mountains and valleys. The valleys are what make the mountaintops so glorious.

I sincerely believe my mission is to contribute to the musical legacy of humanity. I want to leave a significant catalog of wind band literature for succeeding generations.

Somehow, some way, the Universe will provide the opportunities and financial support for me to fulfill my mission.

I’ll see through this valley. Even if I wind up homeless, living on a friend’s couch and taking my laptop to the library to compose, I’m in this for the long haul.

I don’t care about wealth or “maintaining a standard of living”. I just want my music to be heard.

I wish I were better at going up to people and starting conversations. It’s kind of hit or miss with me. Some days I’m in the mood to be sociable… some days I’m not.

It’s not that I don’t like people. I love people! I enjoy meeting others and learning more about them. It’s just not a natural thing for me. I have to be in the mood.

Like yesterday, for example. I went to the ASCAP Composer’s Career Workshop. There were plenty of people there… and from what Alex Shapiro (one of the panelists) said, many of them were well established, well-known composers.

But I didn’t know any of them.

And I didn’t take the initiative to meet a single person, either.

I did run into Bruce Broughton on my way in, though. I wasn’t entirely sure it was him, but I think he recognized me from the workshop he did at UCLA last week and we exchanged greetings.

At least I think it was him. I’m still not even sure.

I have to see a face a few times before it “sticks”. You can imagine how difficult it is to watch a movie sometimes. If there are two characters that look superficially alike, I get confused who is who!

For example, I was watching 24 Season 2 on Netflix recently. There are four hot blonds in it. Four!! It took me a few episodes to sort them all out.

Anyway… I just hope I never have to give a description to the police. I’d be pretty useless. Tall… long legs… blond… hot. That’s about as descriptive as I’m likely to get.

Well, I’m off to another concert tonight at USC. Maybe I’ll work up the courage to actually introduce myself to someone. Especially now that I’ve been reminded again that success in any field is dependent on the number and quality of your relationships.

I seriously need to get busy.

And pray that my “face recognition handicap” doesn’t get me into too much trouble.

Mira Costa H.S. in sunny Southern California.

I met with the Mira Costa Wind Ensemble again today as they read my latest finished work: an arrangement of “Greensleeves”.

I love the immediacy of being a resident composer. I just finished Greensleeves less than two weeks ago and I’m already hearing it played by a live ensemble. The aural feedback is invaluable.

For example, I now know I need to add a few more articulation markings here and there.

And I’m learning to appreciate once again how damn hard it is to play an instrument. When you listen to professional recordings all the time (not to mention the computer-perfect MIDI playback on Sibelius), you begin taking musical skill for granted.

For example, I learned today that it’s pretty damn hard to play a high “G” on a piccolo with any sort of control. It was a bit more shrill than I expected. So I’m taking the whole line down an octave. I’m sure it would have been fine with a professional ensemble. But hey… it would be nice if bands other than the Dallas Winds could approach my music!

As a composer, I suppose I’m always a bit self-conscious about my music. Like the girl who doesn’t realize how beautiful she is.

For example, I’m constantly fretting about whether the stuff I write is too cheesy, or re-hashed, or too repetitive, or not interesting enough. So I’m always surprised and relieved when I get good feedback. The conductor, Joel Carlson, told me, “I like how you’ve harmonically reinterpreted the melody. I’d like to program this for next fall.”

Hopefully, other conductors will feel the same way. I need a couple of good “money pieces” so I can focus on composing full time. I’ve got a TON of ideas I want to get down on paper!

The Nicene Creed

Ever since I heard Karl Jenkin’s Stabat Mater at Pasadena Presbyterian a couple weeks ago, I’ve been inspired to work on my “Creed”.

Actually, I should call it “Credo” now since I decided to do it all in Latin.

It is for SSAATTBB choir, organ, brass quintet, and percussion. I figure I probably don’t have the luxury of a full symphony orchestra. And since I’m a practical person, and actually want to have this work performed someday, I’ll remain content with smaller forces.

There’s still an awful lot you can do with organ, brass quintet, and percussion, though. And the challenge of any good piece of art is working within certain boundaries.

No one has commissioned me to write this piece. I’m still not sure if and when it will be performed. But I feel compelled to write it.

I’ve been working on it off and on for several years. Mostly off. Which is why I never finished it. But now I feel its time has come.

I completed the first movement this week, though I’ve learned to be a bit hesitant when I say, “completed.” (I have an incessant need to tweak. I think I’ve “completed” this piece about four times already.)

So… anyway, I’m now working on the second movement in earnest. I’m in the “sketch” phase, spending time with the lyrics and allowing them to suggest melodic material. I’ve already decided on how to set most of the lyrics for the second movement. Just a few more phrases here and there to work on.

Then it will be time to begin fleshing out harmonic material, tonal centers, interludes, etc. It is a different compositional process writing choral music than instrumental music. I’ll talk more about this in a future blog post.

"My Lady Greensleeves", 1864 painting by Rossetti.

I love it when a piece is almost finished. Most of the “hard work” of creation is already done. Now, it’s just a matter of adding those little touches here and there to polish it up.

Each little final touch—even something as simple as a suspended cymbal roll in the appropriate spot—fills my heart with glee, and makes me think to myself, “Yes! Yes!!”

It’s better than sex.

(Well… sometimes.)

Right now, I’m finishing up an arrangement of Greensleeves. It’s a traditional arrangement (rather than a fantasy or derivative composition)… but it’s also fresh and interesting. I’m quite proud of it. I believe it will be a nice addition to a winter program.

It begins with a soft fanfare—as if in the distance—with the horns and muted trumpets. Then, the woodwinds pick up the melody in a thin, chamber-like texture. Gradually, as the piece develops, more and more parts are added… countermelodies are thrown in… key changes and various settings keep things fresh and interesting… and the opening fanfare becomes an important accompaniment part towards the end.

Finally, the piece ends with a big, rousing coda that Timpanists everywhere will thank me for. The last few bars are like a miniature Timpani Concerto!

Give me a few more days, and the score will be ready. I’ll post a demo soon.

I wrote a piece several years ago for trumpet choir. I called it “Ozarks Festival Prelude”, and it was premiered at the International Trumpet Guild conference in 2001 by the Southwest Missouri State University Trumpet Ensemble, conducted by my former trumpet teacher, Dr. Grant Peters.

But I was never satisfied with the piece.

The first section was exciting with some interesting harmonies and progressions. The last section had great moments and a decent ending. And the middle section was… well… interesting.

The fact is, I really liked some of the things happening in the middle section. It was dramatic and a bit dark. But it didn’t fit with the piece. It was like force-fitting a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite belong.

Yet I was reluctant to “throw away” material that I thought was pretty good. So I ignored that nagging sensation when I adapted the piece for full brass band a couple years later.

And guess what? Adding more parts didn’t solve the problem. Neither did having the incredible musicians of the L.A. Metropolitan Brass Band read it.

The piece was flawed, but I was still reluctant to let go of the middle section. That brings me to an important composition lesson:

Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the good of the piece. That’s where the art of composition comes into play. You’ve got to know what to keep and what to throw away. Anyone can create an interesting groove, texture, chord progression, etc. It takes an artist to mold that in a complete, unifying work of art.

I faced a similar problem as I was finishing up my “Easter Variations”. I had to cut one of my favorite variations. It just didn’t fit within the structure of the piece. There was no place for it to “go”, so I had to cut it out.

Painful. But necessary.

Anyway, I’ve been working on “Ozarks Festival Prelude” again. I’m rewriting it for wind ensemble, scrapping the middle section, creating a new one, and renaming the piece “Midwest Celebration”…

And the piece will be MUCH better because of it. Instead of the original dark and dramatic middle section, I’ve created a slower “Americana” style melody. Something to make a nice reprieve from the more upbeat, festive outer sections.

“Midwest Celebration” will make a great concert opener when it’s ready. And I’m hoping the artistic sensitivity will finally show through.

Image: Cover of book by Dianne Jacob

Today is a writing day. But sadly, not for writing music.

I have a few copywriting projects I am seriously behind on. And since I’m not yet a full time composer, I’ve got to finish them if I want to continue living indoors.

Such is the tug-of-war I’m facing right now.

On the one hand, I want to do nothing but work on my music all day. I’m consumed by the thought of it. I have at least a dozen conceptual ideas for some kick-ass new pieces to work on.

But on the other, I’ve got to keep the rent paid, food on the table, the car running, etc. So… I will do my copywriting work because I have to.

And at the same time, I’ll continue on in faith, believing that one day soon I will have the kind of guilt-free time I need to work on writing these pieces.

In fact, I’ve already made the decision not to accept any more copywriting projects except the ones I’ve already agreed to. That should hold me over for a few months… and even provide a steady residual for a bit longer.

But it’s time for me to step out in faith. To make the declaration:

I am a composer. Will write for food.