Freelancing

The word brings an unprecedented level of uncertainty to life. Looking for work becomes a full time job in itself, never guaranteeing any measure of success, income, stability, or future. There is no light at the end of the freelance tunnel. No welcome party. No farewell dinner. Just a constant bombardment of not knowing where the next paycheck is going to come from.

You see, most freelancers are unhappy people until they land the dream job they've been after since that first tragic idea popped into their innocent heads, "I'd like to be a musician!"

The reality of these people: they know how to work hard with little reward and understand such a career move (if you even want to call it a "career") can end personal relationships at the expense of, well, expenses.

Not having a steady income is not worth "doing what you love." Whoever first put that phrase into print probably died a pauper - something I'm not willing to become for art's sake. Performing music for beans is the reward of a bachelors, masters, or doctorate degree.

Here are a few things I learned about freelancing based on my experience.


The Practical Knowledge of Auditions:

1. You must be invited to audition. They are not open to everyone.
2. You must have a master's degree, celebrity status, or an insider to get the call.
3. On average, 150 applicants compete for one orchestral spot.
4. Don't be disappointed.

The Practical Knowledge of Entry-Level Freewhatevering:

1. You are a product.
2. Musicianship is secondary.
3. Build and edit your resume daily, follow up on calls, and learn to spell.
4. Shake hands, meet people, and act like a musical entrepreneur.
5. Be prepared to spend a lot of money LOOKING for work.

So, if you're sitting there reading this, thinking "Ah, I will be the ultimate musician, find my dream job after graduation, travel the world performing in exotic concert halls, bowing before thousands in thunderous applause," friend, you're in for a harsh reality.

Take my advice.

Become a lawyer.

New Decade

Hard to believe two years have gone by since I first started this blog. Since then, thankfully, I've made forward progress on my music endeavors. And now for a brief update:

- composed a new piece, "Audacity," for concert band
- composed "Symphony No. 1" for orchestra
- finished all music for "Rogue Tyger" space drama pod-cast!
- co-founded a music media company "MxCo Music" in DC
- applied for countless internships, apprenticeships, and other music related jobs
- started teaching private drum lessons (7 students and counting)

And now for a very short story in lieu of Superbowl XLIV:


Take a walk down Bourbon Street and you’ll hear some of the most talented blues guitarists in the world. His fingers calloused and dry from years of playing on rusted strings. The smell of cigarettes and beer waft out his dilapidated alligator case. Follow him home to a one-room apartment on top of a whore house where tourists throw money at cheap hookers sporting beads around their necks like some sort of prison chains. You’ll hear stories of Muddy Waters and Buddy Guy on those old strings and if you sit quietly enough, BB King before he was one. One more shot of bad fluorescent tequila from a half naked waitress with too much eye shadow; behind those flirtatious glances begging attention lurk time’s great accomplice. But his weather-worn skin and gritty smile make room for a final shot from this character - because when those vibrating wires fill the room, money objectifies itself. Hamilton looks up, with his pompous little grin, and reasons, “My dear young man, the frugal triumph of this night rests upon your willingness to accept a common truth: if you value your life, then you can spend me.” The waitress cracks a smile. The blues man sends a wink from the hot humid stage and stomps his heel into the wooden floorboards a little harder.