How to Grow a Daniella Plant

Hi, all! I'm still sorting through my pictures from the spring, but in the meantime, I have exciting news!

This past Saturday, I participated in my second "Poetry and Storytelling Slam Night," hosted by The Stage TLV (our English theater group here in Tel Aviv). The topic was "Roots," so I wrote a story about my very own tangly and messy root system. It was a very interesting experience for me because I was writing and speaking about myself and at one point, I was overwhelmed with emotion and began to cry. But instead of panicking or leaving the stage, I took my time and continued to breathe. My words continued to flow, as did the tears, and I finished my piece.

For the Slam, there are five judging groups, each made of four judges. Each judging group's score is an average of those four judges. Then the top and bottom scores from the judging groups are taken out and the remaining middle three are averaged together. I was happily surprised to receive high scores from four of the five judging groups, even getting a perfect 10 from one of them!

In the end, I tied for 1st place with another performer, so we are both going on to the Grand Slam in July, where we will be competing with the top performers from the previous 5 months of slam nights. The topic is going to be "This explains everything." I'm not sure what I will do with that, but I have a month to think about it.

I am so happy about this small victory because it was a culmination of many things. First of all, I would never have dreamed of participating in the Slam Night a few months ago because I was afraid of being judged and of the prospect of receiving a low score. But in May, my friend Heidi (or Heidi, the Great Dane, as I like to call her) challenged me to participate in the next Slam, so even though it scared me, I joined. In the end, I was happy because I delivered my story from memory without forgetting anything and I succeeded in entertaining my audience.

This month, I signed up, but was wait-listed since I had already performed in the previous month and the Slam Powers That Be wanted to diversify the line-up. I was told that I would know by the 20th if there was room for me. On the 23rd, I received an email stating that there was still room if I wanted to participate. In the spirit of improv, I said, "Yes." And then started thinking very hard about what I was going to write since the Slam was 4 days away. On Saturday morning, I started writing my piece, then I revised and practiced it for two hours. I put it aside, cleaned my apartment, did lots of Grinberg exercises, practiced again, and headed for the Slam!

In my Grinberg work and also in the improv workshop that I participated in a few months ago, we have been speaking about being vulnerable in front of an audience and sharing your emotions with them. Until this performance, I had never really succeeded in doing this. But on Saturday, I won my audience over because I allowed them to feel my pain and sadness and joy and I wasn't afraid of showing those emotions. It really was a beautiful experience and I am so glad that I had it.

And now, I would like to share my story with you. The video is a bit rough because my camera was propped up in one of these shoe/planters (the bottom left one, to be exact - there is no longer a plant there, just soil)...

 (Photo courtesy of Ktovt Bar's Facebook page)

Here is my piece - enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fTuUa3VSRFc

Jellyfish and gluten-free cookies,

Daniella

Oh, p.s., I experienced my first, but probably not last, jellyfish sting on Friday. Happily, it happened after a 4-hour Grinberg workshop and it is healing rapidly. I am going to start carrying vinegar to the beach, though, because I don't like the alternative remedy that Israelis are so fond of...

June is bustin' out all over...

Shalom l'kulam!

I apologize for the recent lull in blog posts, it has been an eventful Spring: Pesach, Yom haShoah (Holocaust Memorial Day), Yom haZikaron (Israeli Memorial Day for victims of war and terrorism not Holocaust-related), my birthday (which fell on Yom haZikaron this year), Yom haAtzmaut (Israeli Independence Day), Shavuot (Israeli "Let's eat Cheesecake" day), revisiting with old friends, making new friends, and many other days in between!

Where to begin? April brought a lot of changes, not least of which was the passing of my dear friend, Mitch. I am still getting used to the fact that he is not physically with us anymore. Every day, I use the tools and advice that he gave me while he was here, and I am so thankful that I was a part of his life. With my Grinberg work, I am able to work through my grief and I am learning to trust myself more.

After all of the holidays (and my actual birthday), I hosted a "post-everything" picnic in Park haYarkon. Many international friends came (human and canine, alike) and of course there was more food than we could eat. It was a beautiful day for a picnic and I was thankful to be surrounded by friends from many walks of life. I also tried out a new gluten-free brownie recipe which has become my new favorite GF dessert to make.

Tel Aviv also had its annual International Documentary Festival in May. I saw "The Visit," which is about what would happen during a hypothetical alien landing on Earth; "The Poorest President on Earth," which is about the president of Uruguay; the new James Brown documentary; and also the much-acclaimed/controversial "Montage of Heck," a collection of Kurt Cobain's non-musical creations (artwork/poetry/films/animations, etc.). Most of the documentaries presented a lot of material but very little narrative, which I don't remember from last year's selections. I liked the cinematography of "The Visit" (although it was mostly people making different expressions towards the camera or moving in slow motion); the Uruguayan president was sweet and his story/vision was inspiring, and the James Brown film was interesting for the history and musical significance (of course, the soundtrack was awesome).

The Kurt Cobain documentary was very tragic because I saw how incredibly talented he was, yet because he was so turned in on himself, he burned himself out instead of learning how to work through his anger and depression. Having just passed the cut-off for joining the "27 Club" myself, I could appreciate that Cobain was faced with a crucial life decision, but he was scared and opted for the easiest way out. Not even his love for his young daughter was enough to motivate him to face his fears and stop his destructive lifestyle.

The film made me think about the stereotypical "tortured artist" image (or, in many composers' cases, the "dying of syphilis/consumption" image) and how people think that you have to suffer in order to create great things. Cobain and the other members of the 27 Club (Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Amy Winehouse...) are perfect examples of extremely creative people who let substances control and destroy their lives. I don't believe it's necessary to be tortured or dying to create great things, I just think that the nature of one's creations (and probably, one's audience demographic) will change.

Bobby McFerrin doesn't need heroin to be one of the most prolific and creative musicians of our time.

I have really been coming to terms with this through my Grinberg work these past two months. When I see proof of my creative and personal power, I tend to stop working because it means that I am moving away from what I'm used to - using stress and adrenaline to get through life. But with Grinberg, I'm finding that I really am much more powerful than I realize and that I have the power to choose what I want and who I want in my life.

On that note, May also marked the start of a new adventure with Tomer, my friend from improv and life. We are finding that life is quite enjoyable together and I am striving to find ways to accommodate this new relationship. It is at times challenging, but I know that we will find the right balance between work and play :)

I hope that you are all well and enjoying this lovely month of June!


Jacarandas and gelato,

Daniella


P.S! If you haven't listened to it, here is a link to my performance from The Stage TLV's Yom haZikaron ceremony in April. I am the second soloist: https://youtu.be/kP4sPxRZdxc
Here are the lyrics and English translation: http://www.hebrewsongs.com/?song=shmoralhaolamyeled

You can listen to the whole ceremony here:

http://hwcdn.libsyn.com/p/0/4/9/04958fa49cdc2b35/MEMORIAL_DAY_2015_yad_lebanim_FINAL.mp3?c_id=8834474&expiration=1429747412&hwt=a1e86532fd39081d8b8d4927a57ea3b9

April Flowers!

Ciao, tutti!
Tel Aviv has had some spectacularly rainy weather recently, which I hoped would bring us lots of flowers.
I have not been disappointed! 

Yesterday, I took part in a "photowalk" yesterday in Neve Tsedek, a once extremely dangerous, now gentrified and beautiful neighborhood in south Tel Aviv. The challenge was for all photos to be taken from below the knee - I didn't succeed in that, but I did succeed in finding lots of beautiful colors. 

I will let the pictures speak for themselves. 

Enjoy!

Christmas Bougainvilleas :)

I nicknamed these "Rasta Trees" because of their dreadlocks - does anybody know what they are?

 I just can't get over this color!

After two years, I finally stopped to take pictures of the lily pond at Kikar Rabin

 Tiny minnows!

 We also saw this lovely character at the pond

 

 Happy April, everyone!

A note on improvisation

Happy Spring, everyone! Israel is starting to bloom and there is a particularly fragrant tree outside of my apartment. It makes a welcome change from the usual smells of Tel Aviv.

Improvisation is the theme of today's post, I hope that you enjoy it!

Last week, my improvisation class had our final showcase performance to mark the end of our two months of working together. I had so much fun and was sad to see the end of the workshop. But yesterday, I was able to attend another workshop given by a visiting improv-er from Belgium, which was 3-hours of "intense fun."

One of the goals of the workshop was to quiet our inner-dialogues of self-criticism and to trust and follow our physical impulses. One of our first exercises was to walk around the room and every time that we met somebody, we had to look them in the eye and say, "Everything that you do today is good and I trust you 100%" (then they would answer you with the same thing). At first, it felt awkward and forced, but by the end of the exercise, I actually believed what I was saying to people, and vice versa.
 
We always talk about "yes, and..." in improv, which is the concept of accepting and building off of whatever your improv partner has offered you. By agreeing with whatever word, idea, movement or object your partner has offered, then you are able to continue and build on your scene. Without "yes, and...," you might block a scene from building and make it difficult for your collaborator(s) to understand what is happening in the scene.

Our teacher Uri always reminds us that "yes, and..." can just as easily apply in our daily lives. I have begun to realize that it's not just saying "yes, and..." to those around you, but also saying "yes, and..." to yourself.

Yesterday, I started this month's "Warrior Program" with my friends at Ekhart Yoga. The class was a "circle of Warriors," so we were moving around the mat nearly constantly. As I was resting in a Child Pose, I started to feel pains in my back and my mind started racing with thoughts again: "What if I tire myself out too much with this Warrior class and I don't have energy for the improv workshop? What if I don't pack enough food and I get a headache and dehydrated and get sick? What if I don't know anybody there? What if I can't "perform" as well with new people as I did with my improv class? What if I can't think of anything to say when it's my turn to speak?"

I started to think, "You're being silly, everything is going to be fine," and then I realized that it was my old friend fear speaking these thoughts. I realized that if I just dismissed the thoughts that it wasn't actually dealing with the fear. So I said to myself, "You're right, it is scary. We don't know what's going to happen, and we won't find out unless we go to the workshop." I "yes, and"-ed myself.

My yoga instructors often say that if we are able to truly relax and accept so-called "negative" emotions, then we can come out "on the other side of them." For instance, we can come into strength from vulnerability. Yesterday, for the first time, I felt that I really experienced this.When I was there experiencing fear, I had so many possibilities of what to do next. I might have stopped my yoga practice because I was afraid of becoming too tired, or I might not have gone to the improv workshop at all and chosen to stay at home where it was safe and warm and where there was food. Or I might have forced myself to go on to the workshop despite my fears and then "choked up" later when the pressure of performing arose.

After I had acknowledged my fears, I was able to finish the yoga class despite its challenges. I followed up with some more Grinberg exercises to ground my legs, went to the workshop, had a fabulous time, volunteered and participated in the performance afterwards, went out after the show with mostly strangers, and walked 2 miles home with energy to spare. If that's not a true expression of a warrior, then I don't know what is!

Because our workshop yesterday was so focused on not judging what we or others were saying or doing (or thinking), I worried less about what was "right or wrong" and trusted myself more. I spent a lot of time focusing on keeping my legs grounded and my arms relaxed and wouldn't you know it? They knew how to move all by themselves! When I needed to speak, words and sounds came out.


Last night was especially fun because I quite literally got to see how my life might have panned out in a parallel universe. The "professional" improv-ers did a show called "Matchmakers." The show revolves around two protagonists whose characters are based on details drawn from audience members' lives. In this case, another woman and I volunteered and gave them basic information of what we do, what we wanted to do when we were younger, and one positive and one negative quality of ourselves. It was interesting to see my character finding her path towards being a singer despite having many different ambitions and interests. And it was also hilarious to see my character played by Uri.

At the end of the show, the "professionals" invited all of the workshop participants to join in two final games, so we went up for a round of Freeze Tag and "Sex with me is like..." It was really exciting to be "performing," and I felt completely supported by those around me. I also felt that everyone else was another expression of me, had I made different choices. I saw myself as I used to be, timid and wanting to join in but not knowing how, and I saw myself as I want to be, spontaneous and completely committed to my words and actions.

I also saw that not everybody needed to be involved with every scene and that it was perfectly fine to just stand back and enjoy the show once in a while.

Well, that is all from me! I hope Spring is making its way into your particular corner of the world.


Love and peace,

Daniella

Living WITH fear, not IN fear

Recently, my friend and Alexander Technique teacher, Jennifer Roig-Francolí, wrote a blog post about the effect of perfectionism on musical expression (1). I began writing a response, but quickly realized that I had much more to say than could be contained in a comment! I decided to put into words what I have been discovering for myself these past few months.

Since beginning my one-on-one Grinberg work last month, I have become more aware of how much of my life is controlled (or should I say, hindered) by fear. A few weeks ago, I was fortunate to have a lesson with Ruth Elkana, one of the co-founders of the Grinberg Method who specializes in working with musicians (2). After some discussion about my goals, my progress with the method, and issues that I would like to work on in my singing, she asked me to sing for her. 

As I stood in front of her, I began to feel those familiar sensations of panic, anxiety, and fear that I get whenever somebody who is not specifically "my voice teacher" asks me to sing for them. My throat started tightening and I could barely breathe, let alone sing (or so I thought)! My mind raced with all sorts of thoughts: "What should I sing? Will she like it? What if I mess up the words? Will she understand me? What if I start in the wrong key and I can't sing all of the notes? What if my voice cracks? What if....?"

I could feel my body stiffening as I was caught in the grips of a "fight or flight" dilemma. My body wanted to flee, but my mind was telling it to stay. What to do, what to do?

I don't remember the order, perhaps they happened simultaneously: I began to sing and Ruth began to work on my body, drawing my attention to the tension in my torso, neck, legs, back. I could feel my voice and breathing getting stronger as I was drawn out of the nebulous land of "What if" and back into the real, physical world of my body. 

My regular Grinberg teacher who was observing the lesson said that my body actually shrank as I was being worked on. Apparently I was doing a good impression of a scared cat by making myself seem bigger to protect myself from the perceived attack...of having somebody watch me singing. Until that moment, I hadn't realized just how petrified I was of performing. 


Over the course of an hour, we found more areas of tightness, especially in my upper body. The wonderful thing about Grinberg is that the more that you try to resist the pain, the more it hurts. So as I continued to breathe and to move my body despite the pain, I felt as if my body was expanding as it was freeing itself from this built-up tension (fear). 

At the end of the lesson, Ruth asked me to sing again while she worked on me and moved me around the room. Even though my legs felt wobbly and even though I felt as though I might cry at any moment, the words and notes continued to flow out of me - it was the most expressive that I have ever felt while singing. I felt that I was actually saying the words as I sang them, rather than just reciting them. 

In answer to Jennifer's question, yes, perfectionism has greatly impaired my musical expression. More precisely, it has been a fear of not being perfect that has blocked me from being able to express myself. In all those previous times when I felt like I was "on the spot" and "couldn't sing," I had never tried to just continue singing despite my fears. These past few weeks, I have continued to practice singing with more awareness of fear in my body. I'm learning that I can still sing (and speak and move) even when I am in pain or in fear and that the effect is more expressive, more genuine singing. 

Yesterday, I sang an audition for a place in a Yom haZikaron (Israeli Memorial Day) presentation. My voice cracked, a few notes wobbled, I made up some words, but the world continued to turn. And I have been asked to sing in the final presentation.


Well, that's all from me for today. I hope that you enjoyed this post!


Happy Afikomen and egg hunting,

Daniella

-----

[Fantastic] People/Works Cited

1. Roig-Francolí, Jennifer. "Does Perfectionism Block the Emotions in Your Music?" The Art of Freedom. February 23, 2105. Accessed March 30, 2015. http://www.artoffreedom.me/does-perfectionism-block-the-emotions-in-your-music/

2. GrinbergMethodVideos. "Grinberg Method, To Be the Music with Ruth Elkana" (YouTube). September 19, 2013. Accessed March 30, 2015. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNwtw-FUtDY

Part of Your World

Don't worry, I'm not going to break in to song. Nor am I going to dye my hair fire-engine red and sell my voice to a sea-witch. Instead I would like to share with you an interesting revelation that has been developing this past month.

Last month was a challenging one. The Year of the Horse seemed to want to exit with a bang and stirred up a whirlwind of obstacles for me. Not least of these was having a pretty nasty bike accident that prevented me from doing yoga for two weeks and effectively canceled my February plans of learning how to execute a handstand. Don't worry, nothing was broken (except for the bike), and I sustained some very colorful bruises and was confronted with my fear of falling head-on (not literally).

I also started private Grinberg sessions in February and they have been the catalyst for a major shift in the way that I think, act, and live.

After the first lesson, I realized that I find it difficult to trust myself and my body, which in turn makes it difficult for me to trust other people. The physical manifestation of this is that I try to hold my legs and arms up with unnecessary tension in my hips and shoulders, instead of trusting that my limbs will stay attached to me and to let gravity do its work. In my Grinberg classes, I have a hard time keeping my eyes closed because I don't trust that my body won't run into people or the walls or fall over. To date, I've only had one notable collision with somebody, and I've obviously lived to tell the tale. And now that I've survived falling off of a fast-moving bike, I think I can survive falling from a stationary standing position.

During the first session when my Grinberg instructor helped me to release built-up tension; suddenly there was so much energy flowing through my arms and hands that I felt like I was being electrocuted! My hands were buzzing so much, I was convinced that they must have been trembling like leaves in the wind. But when I looked at them, they were perfectly still. When I stood up and started walking, the ground seemed much closer than before because my legs had relaxed and lengthened.

The next few sessions were mainly devoted to releasing the trauma that my body sustained from the bike accident. But once my bruises and scrapes were on the mend, another pattern emerged, which was that I expect myself and others to be perfect. Obviously, this is impossible, but it has led to a great deal of frustration and disappointment in myself and in others (although I tend to be much more understanding about others' "failings" than in my own).

I realized that I have never been able to just look at the positive aspects of something that I've done without adding "but I didn't/I need to/I should have..." Lessons, recitals, papers, relationships...you name it, I've criticized it! This constant criticism of myself and of others makes it really difficult to accomplish anything, let alone get along with others.

For myself, I've decided to employ the phrase "[a,b,c,] went well today and tomorrow I will work on [x,y,z]."

You're probably familiar with the idea that when you see something that you don't like in somebody else it could be that it reminds you of something within yourself that you don't like. This is exactly the case with my quest for perfection. When I see other people behaving or speaking or thinking in a way that I don't like, it's usually because I don't like it when I behave/speak/think that way.

In my most recent Grinberg session, my teacher was pressing points on my face and my arms were tingling in response. I asked how tension in my face could cause energy blocks in my arms and my teacher replied that I wasn't seeing my whole body as me. That rather stopped me in my tracks. And then I realized that I fixate on the labels for these parts instead of understanding that my whole body is me.

This made me think of something else that Esther Ekhart sometimes talks about in her yoga teachings. In one particular video, at the end of the sequence when you are in the relaxation pose, Esther asks you to imagine that you are a Google Earth camera looking down from above. You see yourself lying on your yoga mat, the room around you, your apartment building or house, the streets outside, the people going by, and it just keeps zooming farther and farther out.

She asks, "What is you? Where do you begin and end?"

I think one answer is that we don't end.

Every person, every circumstance, every thing that exists in our lives is an extension of ourselves and creates our world - We are each a star at the center of our mini-universe. When I find it hard to accept somebody with "less-than-perfect" tendencies it is because they are an extension of my own "less-than-perfect" tendencies.

So I have decided to be kinder to myself and to see where improvements can be made without punishing myself for not being perfect. And since we are all part of each other's mini-universes, I will affect all of the lives around me by changing my own life and how I behave/speak/think.

I hope that this post was coherent and interesting to you. I would love to hear what you think.


Love and peace,

Daniella

January Greetings!

Hello, all!

It seems fitting to be writing another post on the last day of January. I returned to Israel at the beginning of the month and time has flown by ever since! The Year of the Horse seems to want to finish with a bang; it is bringing its fair share of challenges. I found a new apartment a few days after returning, but that still left me with the task of finding a replacement roommate for my old apartment. It is still a work in progress, but I am hopeful.

In other news, I resumed my voice lessons and have embarked on a new journey with Poulenc. I found a set that he wrote to Garcia-Lorca's poems. I've always been drawn to his work, so it seemed like a natural progression. However, with Tamar's guidance, I'm discovering that most pieces I encounter are more comfortable taken down a 1/2-step, so I am becoming a master of Sibelius as well. For non-music nerds, Sibelius is the computer program for composing that makes transcription/transposition by hand a distant memory.

I am also nearly completed with a January's "Willpower Workout," courtesy of our friends at EkhartYoga.com. As I've learned with Esther Ekhart, willpower is a muscle - if you don't use it, you lose it! I have mostly succeeded in following the workout plan and have had quite a few breakthroughs in the process! For instance, yesterday I learned that your core actually extends down through your thighs/upper legs! All this time, I though it was only the core abdominal muscles - it surely makes a difference in every day life.

Today I did a lovely Yin Yoga sequence meant to reconnect to my vital energy. Esther was explaining that in order to connect with one's vital energy, one must make space for all of the sensations/emotions that exist within us: "let it be." As she was saying it, I heard piano music coming from one of my neighbors. I realized that I knew the song - it was "Lu Yehi," the Hebrew version of "Let It Be." I had to smile as I recognized the message the universe was sending to me.

So my quest for health continues! I am currently looking for work - a part-time job to help get me out of my shell and into the world. I realized that I've been using my vocal training and my financial situation as an excuse to turn into a hermit! I guess this is a common tendency for musicians and artists in general; we become so embroiled in our work that we forget that there is an outside world! I am about to go explore mine with a lovely walk through the park. After our 2 months of winter (AKA 3 weeks of rain), we are having consistently warmer and sunnier weather.

I hope that you are well.

Much love,

Daniella