Hello to the CMW community. I am reporting from Guangdong, China, where I am enjoying a summer of picture taking, food tasting, and a general appreciation of all that is new. As I explore the streets, I am continually surprised with all the different activities I can see in one day; a mother and child playing, a man selling watermelon slices, rusty old bicycle taxis, sidewalk artists, a group of men gathered around a table playing cards and the occasional miracle glue salesman.

Once in a while I see a street musician and a crowd of people gathered around him or her listening the performance. From all of the things I see here in the course of a day, street music never fails to stop me for a few minutes in my busy life. When I see this, I always think of the efforts of CMW. No matter what language one speaks, everybody can appreciate the beauty of music. For a few minutes of the day, the talents of the street musician gathers strangers, brings them into an experience—an experience that, through sound, silently bonds. As we leave, we all know we have shared and understood something together.

As Community MusicWorks approaches its 10th year, I wish you continued success and I am happy to be a part of your team.

-Don Tarallo, graphic design consultant

I was thinking this morning—Yes alert the press, I was thinking—but I remembered an email I got from you (or you from me) that you were going to put that picture of me sleeping with my cello up on the blog. So in case you weren’t joking:

Practice, Practice, Practice, then take a break and practice some more. I was preparing for my upcoming RIPYO auditions and it was on a piece that I didn’t have completely down, so naturally, I worked my fingers to the bone. That paired with the stress of the fast approaching audition, I had to take a rest, and so did my cello. I AM ONE WITH THE CELLO.

Auditions are one of the most nerve-racking experiences ever. You go to the place at your appointed time, then wait around a bit since they always run late. Then when you get in, you sit in front of 3 or 4 people, and your play for them then they ask you questions, poking and prodding into every little aspect about your musical life. Then they might ask you to sight read (which is always a pain), and then the scales. They mention scales that you, until that point, didn’t know existed. When they’re done, they shoo you off to pack up your instrument and say they’ll contact you.

-Carolina Jimenez, Phase II