Heather S. Ingemar's Blog, page 10

An Tir Kingdom Bardic, 2014

As I have mentioned on previous occasions, I have been busy preparing for my Kingdom’s Bardic Championship.

What an amazing weekend.

I was able to kick off the entire event first thing Saturday morning with my version of “The Boar’s Head Carol,” and that was just the start of the Awesomeness. Though I had experienced quite a bit of nervous adrenaline that served to get me a touch too amped for the performances, all my prior preparation won out. Each performance (“The Three Ravens” and then an instrumental solo of “Pastyme with Good Companye”) turned out better than the last. Performance-wise, I felt like I was on fire, a veritable powerhouse.

Each performance contains an interview component, which was a new experience for me. I strove for candid honesty, answering the variety of queries to the best of my ability and admitting when I didn’t know. It could very easily have been nerve-wracking, but the judges’ sheer enthusiasm and appreciation for historical music won out to set me at ease. It was such a treat to perform for people who truly get it; I have spent so much of my mundane performance time over the years trying to bridge the gap, so to speak, that it was refreshing to play for an enthusiastic crowd. A true breath of fresh air.

Throughout it all, my amazing and loyal Canton/Barony friends were there with me, cheering me on with surprising fervor.

Then, on Saturday night, I found out I made the finals.

I couldn’t hardly believe it. The weekend had already surpassed my hopes and dreams, and I felt like I had already achieved the goals I had set for myself: to represent my Baroness well as her Artisan, to represent myself well, and to meet new people as well as have some much-needed fun after a very trying couple of weeks. Anything else was just gravy. I didn’t expect much, it being my first Kingdom-level competition.

And I’d been picked to move on.

The feeling was indescribable. Important people — Laurels (who have achieved excellence in the Arts & Sciences) and prior Champions — as well as audience members, people I’d never met before were all approaching me with friendly tips, advice, and encouragement. The sudden attention almost bordered on overwhelming. My competitive streak fought to rear its head as I suddenly realized I might seriously have a chance.

Sunday morning came very early, and the hall filled with people. One by one we gave our best opus to the judges, Majesties, and watching populace. I chose “Three Ravens,” my highest-scoring piece from Saturday. I gave it my all, and at the soaring height of the dramatic climax, I let that single note resonate as if everything depended on it…

…and in the hush that followed, I looked up to see an audience wiping their faces of tears.

My humble, rescued guitar spoke softly right where it needed to be as we brought the tension in the room back down and quietly wrapped it up.

It was, to date, the best performance of my life.

The final interview process was a blur, and I don’t remember much of what happened immediately after I walked off stage except being surrounded by people handing me tokens and offering words of their esteem. The wait for the verdict at closing court seemed impossibly long, except for the lovely ceremony where I witnessed the outgoing Champion’s farewell song (absolutely stunning). She finished, returned her regalia, and we cheered for her, in honor of her service, as she made the triumphant walk out.

Then, with no preamble, the herald shouted out the name of the new champion.

Me.

Photo by Heather Parchen.

What an amazing weekend.

Tagged: An Tir, bardic, kingdom arts and sciences, music, sca

3 Days

This is it, folks. In three days I head to the Kingdom Bardic championship to compete.

I have done all the preparing I can.

I have dotted all the T’s and crossed all the I’s.

My fingers know the songs.

My heart knows the words.

This is the point at which there is no going back, when everything either comes together or falls apart. Wish me luck (or ‘break a leg’ if you prefer). I’m going to be playing it cool from here on out, because this is the hush as the lights dim.

Tagged: bardic, music, performance, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism

“The Lute Player” by Orazio Gentileschi

That’s the beautiful piece of late Renaissance art I have set for the header image on here. Granted, it was painted a bit out of the time for SCA purposes (1626), but depicts an Italian woman enjoying some quiet time with her lute.

Ever since I ran across that image, I’ve wanted to replicate it. In prep for the Kingdom Bardic competition, I sat down and sewed myself a new kirtle in the working-class (Italian, because their fashions look great on me) style. I finally had the opportunity, and my dear husband did me the honors of being my photographer:

Granted, my kirtle is red, not mustard yellow (because, ICK, least favorite color!), and it’s got the fancier trim style on it (because Husband and I portray merchant/middle class), and I’m holding a guitar instead of a bowl-back lute… but HEY. I am exceptionally and well-pleased.

Tagged: art, creativity, music, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism

Mixed Emotions

I recently found out that I am pregnant again.

My mental state is as snarled up as a bundle of yarn that’s been attacked and batted about by an ambitious feline. I’m told that’s normal, especially expected, after a loss such as ours. Because there’s no longer any kind of a “safety net” that allows unadulterated bliss. Because we aren’t out of the woods, not until this child is screaming with its first breath and alive and kicking in my arms.

It’s a little hard to swallow, at times. I hate the terror that creeps in unexpectedly.

Before my first OB appointment, I had very nearly worked myself into a panic. I want this baby So Much, I want to be a mother and I want to share that with my dear husband So Bad, that I could barely even function just thinking of all the ways it could play out. Thankfully, I have an amazing OB, who put the entire rest of our intake appointment on hold to do an ultrasound to ease my fears.

And thankfully, all is well.

Fears eased, comfort restored, and I am now gliding along a thin but strong thread of peace. In the hours and days after that first appointment, I finally feel free to get excited about this baby. And it’s such a beautiful, wonderful feeling. And I am so, so happy that I get another chance, I am so very excited to reach the milestones of first ultrasounds, first movements. I can hardly stand the waiting.

Most days I can tuck fear back into the dark corner of my mind and not think about it. I can “float” across the surface and make it through each day while silently ticking off the weeks. I think, sometimes, I should be angry: angry that my innocence was stolen from me, angry that any joy I feel is deeply tainted with an ice-cold bucket of reality. But I’m not, because every day is a gift. A beautiful, fragile gift.

I do not like feeling the vulnerability, the uncertainty, nor my inability to envision this child alive and well with us at the end of nine months, but I have made it my mission to take each joy as it comes and for the precious thing that it is. Day by day, week by week.

Nine months. Can I really do this?

Tagged: fear, hope, life, loss, Pregnancy, rainbows, trying again

Things to Work On

Yesterday found my husband and myself in the company of our SCA friends at a lovely indoor event called “Feast of Fools” in the Barony of Wealdsmere. As I had wished for a low-key, almost non-existent birthday celebration this year, J and I opted to spend the day together in the company of our medievally friends.

It was wonderful. I got to watch my wonderful man fence, where he came away with another tournament win, I got to hang out and socialize with a bunch of fun people, and I got to do a bit of performing later in the day. I’d even got a goodly portion of my garb sewing done beforehand, and so I had the luxury of wearing my new kirtle and feeling good in it.

During the Bardic portion of the feast, I took the opportunity to present one of my pieces I have been preparing for the Kingdom Bardic Championship in two weeks. I chose the one that has been giving me the most challenge, my instrumental piece, and I’m glad I did, as I now have a much better idea if the things I need to work on.

I couldn’t figure out why I had such a case of nerves heading into performing this particular piece, until I realized that it has been a good eight years since I did a strictly instrumental solo. Possibly nine years. That is a very long time to go without having any kind of a recital, and I believe my subconscious was telling me that I felt vulnerable without my strumming and singing methods at my disposal. I plan to perform this piece frequently front of others starting tomorrow, in an effort to ease the sense of vulnerability that set my picking hand to shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.

I also learned, through experiencing the rare “performance jitters” which parts of his piece I need to practice more.

This is down to the wire, now, folks. This is where my years of performance experience come in: dissecting the parts of these songs to tease out the bugs, smooth the wrinkles, and knit the wonky parts back into a whole.

11 days.

Tagged: bardic, music, performance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism

Statistics

As I was surfing the ‘net last night I stumbled upon an article on labor and delivery statistics, written by some OB-Gyn. First off, I was floored to read that of the women who decide they want to “try” natural birth (i.e. no meds), most end up with drugs such as an epidural. Of the women who go into labor adamant about doing it natural, only about 50% make it without. Floored. Because I honestly didn’t realize so many had such a tough time. I won’t say my labor (natural) was a cakewalk, but it certainly didn’t feel nearly as hard as those statistics make it sound.

But the article got interesting, as it talked about labor times and delivery times. Apparently, for a first baby, it is not uncommon for women to push between an hour and three hours (and of course, they always say that many first-time moms have a labor between 16 and 20 hours). With second and subsequent children, that pushing time whittles down to between 20 minutes and 2 hours.

My labor with Michael was 5 hours, and my pushing phase lasted around 10 minutes. And it still wasn’t enough. Yes, I remain irritated by that little fact (and probably will be irritated by it for the rest of my life). I was the one they could see was made for this, who excelled at this. I was the one who who was the “sure bet,” the one they didn’t have to worry about.

But my son got stressed.

He panicked inside me at the very last moment and inhaled when he shouldn’t have.

And no one in that room could save him though they all tried so, so hard.

I remember, once, a long time ago, hearing a quote that said something along the lines of “when a woman is giving birth, it is then that she is closest to life and death.” As a girl, I thought that quote was a bit harsh, but looking back I see it so clearly. In childbirth, things can really go either way, with seemingly no rhyme or reason. No woman is guaranteed a baby to take home, even after the easiest pregnancy on record. Despite all our medical advances, nothing is a sure bet. All those numbers that run so rampant? As much as we don’t want to hear it, those numbers mean nothing. Our outcomes in most circumstances — life or death — are not up to us, though we and the medical community try so valiantly and so hard to make it otherwise.

It’s not up to us.

But I suppose that’s where hope comes in, that little, indomitable flame of spirit. We dream, we pray, we hope for the best. We believe that good things can come. And sometimes, against all odds, those little hopes come to fruition, in spite of the logic of numbers.

Tagged: loss, neonatal death, Pregnancy, statistics

Getting Real

Schedules were posted today for the big bardic competition in three weeks. This is getting real. But the best part?

Finding out I get to open the whole affair, front and center, with my most visually striking piece. Oh yeah.

I’m really starting to get amped.

I still have some sewing to do, and practicing, but the most enjoyable part of this has been the learning process. Even this close to the showdown, I am still picking up bits and pieces that bring me closer to the life my persona, Emma, may have had in Tudor England. I am learning how to make my guitar sing, how to make the lyrics resonate, what these three pieces — and myself — are made of.

Even if I don’t come close to placing in the finals, I can honestly say that I have relished this experience and am so very glad I decided to take a chance and enter, when I could very easily have chosen to curl up under my safe little rock. It has been amazing thus far, and I have no doubt the event will follow thusly.

20 days.

Tagged: bardic, music, performance, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism, Tudor

Preparations

Time is ticking down.

28 days until the Kingdom Bardic competition.

I am literally on the very last page of my documentation for my three performance pieces — tomorrow I will print out one final version to read over to make sure I catch any last-minute oddities, and then I will begin printing copies for the judges.

My husband is finishing up his generous project of the wooden boar head for one of my props.

I am a few stitches away from completing my heraldic banner to carry in.

I am going fabric shopping tomorrow so I can sew myself a prettier kirtle & chemise to wear for the event.

I have been practicing my performances and am getting closer and closer to the final product. Memorization is coming along nicely.

The only things I have left to do are:

-Tally up costs for the weekend and budget accordingly…

-Solidify carpooling plans…

-Figure out what I need to pack for my performances…

…and most importantly, begin rehearsing the “stage setting” part of my presentation. (Yes, I’m procrastinating a bit because I tend to prefer to ‘wing’ it a little based on the tenor of the audience, but I really do need to set some things in stone so I don’t sound like a blithering idiot.)

I’ve broached the idea within my Barony to pick a day to do our presentations in front of an audience so we don’t have to walk into the competition completely cold, and it might just work. Gotta few scheduling details to hash out, but it’s looking good.

28 days.

Tagged: music, performance, preparation, Renaissance, sca, Society for Creative Anachronism

The Things We’d Say

If I had been asked this a year ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to pick some influential or historical person. Abe Lincoln or George Washington were go-to favorites. Or even one of the famous composers (Beethoven) or maybe an artist (Van Gogh). I used to have a list of people I’d love to sit down over tea with for various reasons. I love history, and have this insatiable desire to know ‘why.’ I would have relished the insight a chat with a historical figure could have given, be it for their creativity, their career, or their choices.

Used to.

I find that today, without a doubt, the person I would want to spend an hour with would be my son. And I would be totally okay if he were not the newborn I had to say goodbye to, but a little boy, a teenager, or an adult man — because they say that in Heaven, you exist in the state you are supposed to be in, whether it is young or old. And regardless of his age, I’d wrap him in my arms and the only thing I think I’d say is ‘I love you.’ Because that’s the one thing I didn’t get to say enough of. And I would memorize his face. Touch his hands.

I wouldn’t ask him questions, because the things he knows now aren’t for me, yet. I wouldn’t quiz him on his happiness in the hereafter, or try to make him feel guilty for leaving us so soon.

Just, ‘I love you.’

I still love you. Always, Michael. Always.

Oh, and I would cry, of course I would cry great, rolling tears like I am right now just thinking about it, especially when that hour ended. It wouldn’t, couldn’t last. It could never replace the years we should have had together as a family. But it would be such a gift. A beautiful, priceless hour. And he would know that we loved him with our hearts and souls, because that’s all that matters.

It’s the only thing that matters.

Tagged: grief, healing, neonatal death, second chances, time

Empathy

This is an awesome article:

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/01/how-to-love-an-empath/

I was told all my life that I “needed to grow a thick skin” that I was “too sensitive,” that I was “too emotional,” as if it were a bad thing I needed to eradicate from my life. Like the woman in the article, I tried everything to avoid feeling, to tamp out the heightened emotions that could render me giddy or tearful or terrified at a moment’s notice during social interactions and relationship trials. All to no avail.

It wasn’t until I became an adult and had a conversation with a musician friend of mine that I learned it wasn’t necessarily such an evil.

Because in my line of work, the capacity for emotion is an amazing gift. To be a good musician, I must feel, 100%, the joy, anguish, fear, comfort, tension, and release that we human beings are capable of. Because without those things, the music we make becomes lifeless and loses all ability to touch people’s souls. To be a musician means to feel.

Sure, it makes dealing with day-to-day life more hard than I’d care to admit. Unbelievably hard, sometimes.

But it’s all in how you look at it.

Tagged: anger, betrayal, Emotions, fear, joy, love, music, sensitivity