Born To Drum 2008

Spent this past weekend at Born to Drum, a drumming camp for women. This was one of those great adventures that hits you suddenly and when you realize how wonderful it is, it's over and you can't stop thinking about it.

The weekend actually started off on Thursday night with a concert by the Born to Drum faculty at La Pena. Our plan was to play Kaitoryu. But did we play Kai? Well, not really. Kaitoryu is one of those songs that require the most extremest of extreme concentration. You can't think about anything except where you are in the song and what pattern you are going to play next. If not, you're doomed. We've been working on this song for years, and although we've played it perfectly many times before, train wrecks are still not uncommon, and they're hard to predict. They just happen. We have a 6-person version of the song and when you have that many people playing it's easier to pull the song off because chances are, a couple of you can keep it together. With just two people bad things can happen, and they did. We train-wrecked that song like there was no tomorrow. Sigh. I was so disappointed. I'm not sure why I felt so bad. After all, we were playing in front of the Born to Drum audience, who are the most loving and supportive people in the whole world. They didn't know and they didn't care if we messed up--that's the kind of love that was in that sold-out room. It was just one of those days where neither of us could play it right. But I knew that I could do better. I have worked hard on that song and spent many, many hours trying to get it right. But on one of the nights that I wanted to get it right, I didn't. I could have held the song together. I could have put us back on track. I didn't. That night I sighed and moped around until I finally went to bed at 2 am.

When I woke up the next morning, I realized that there were three options available to me:
1) I could just let it go, move on, and not obsess about it. Messing up is part of your life experience and it helps you grow and become a better person.
2) We could try playing it again and fail horribly at it, in which case I'd probably wish I had chosen option 1.
3) We could try playing it again and nail it and it would feel so good!

I contemplated this as we loaded out for Drum Camp. The good thing about our practice drums is that they are made out of plastic and are really light. The only bad thing is that they're bulky and hard to transport. We got some help from our favorite roadie, Ed. Check out what you can do with a pick up truck, rope and a guy who knows his knots:Before we left we went to grab some coffee and I surprised myself a little when I proposed the idea to Janet that we play Kaitoryu again at the big, Saturday night concert, in addition to the other song we already had worked out. I told her I wanted redemption and that I thought we could pull it off. I didn't realize until the words came out how determined I was to get Kaitoryu right. Yes. Janet seemed to like the idea and was game. Ok then!

As soon as we got to the beautiful Walker Creek Ranch in Marin, it was a race to unload and get set up before our first class. They had us in a building aptly called the "Barn." It actually was a barn, with creaky wooden floors and great soaring inside space--perfect for taiko:The skylights made the space kind of dreamy. Nice effect. We taught for an hour and a half and all the good times from previous camps came back to me. The people who attend and teach at the camp are some of the most wonderful people in the world. They bring such great spirits and energy and everyone is friendly and happy and positive. We had a good class.

After I found my room and got settled, I ran (scampered on all fours at times) to the top of a nearby hill for a bird's eye view of the camp:
And of the surrounding foothills:
I loved the location of the previous camps on the Marin Headlands, but I have to admit that the facilities here at the ranch were better suited to accommodate all of us. The camp keeps growing every year. Plus there is something about the rustling of summer grass that makes me deeply happy.

That evening we had the welcome ceremony, and by the time it was over it was a little late, but hey--this is drum camp! I ran back to get my bachi and headed back to the barn where it was quiet, and they had some strange green theater lights hitting the ceiling, and softer white light casting circles of illumination on the barn floor, and dark, wooden shadows everywhere else. I paused a moment to breathe in the cool, foggy night air, and to listen to the sound of small scampering things beneath the floor and the chirping insects calling out from their secret places in old knots of wood. It was like church. I had this entire space all to myself and it was full of taiko drums! No commitments! No bedtime! No curfew! And no neighbors who would complain, and even if there were neighbors they were all drummers! I don't know about you, but this was heaven. Yes, I'd died and gone to heaven and heaven is a barn. I played Kai over and over again, and I played drills, and I worked on diddles and noodling and learning the song Janet taught earlier that day. It was the best thing ever! I was so happy I'm sure I glowed in that sacred, beautiful darkness. When I finally returned Janet laughed and shook her head and called me obsessed. It was a compliment.

The next day was full of classes to learn all things percussion and also sharing taiko with the most enthusiastic students. When we weren't doing that we found time to rehearse. We ran Kai and Heiya, made a couple of mistakes, and ran them again. Janet kept joking that I was going to make her do it all over again if she got it wrong. Of course I never said that, but that's probably what she'd make herself do, and that's certainly what I made myself do. See why I like Janet? Badass.

When we showed up for the Saturday night concert we were surprised that they had put us first on the bill. We've never been first! We're always last. I wasn't quite prepared for that, but I had no time to worry, which was a good thing. I tied my obi, took a deep breath, and mentally embraced that lovely, lovely audience. And can I just say? We played Heiya and Kai PERFECTLY!!! I was so happy and relieved! I yelled to Janet during the thunderous applause: We did it!! And the best part was that the crowd was so amazingly wonderful. They gave us such good energy and there was no way you could feel bad about anything in the world with that crowd. In taiko you always try to project energy but to get it back that way, oh that's just love.
And so happy! I've never been happier to perform taiko, ever.

Go for Option #3, people. It is so worth it.

The next day we taught one more class and then had to pack up haul our butts back to Alameda for a gig. It was a benefit for Todd Blair, and they unveiled the most amazing wall of gears put together by various artists:Or watch it in motion:

As if a weekend of drumming, plus a gig, wasn't enough for us, we still had a 3 hour rehearsal for next Friday's gig. I was tired, but Crissy said I better toughen up for Japan, and she told me about how hard she always worked when she was over there. That gave me renewed energy and inspiration, or at least it motivated me to appear as if I had energy. I made it through rehearsal and came home a zombie, but isn't that the best kind of tired? To be so tired from doing the things you like the best?

I think you get through it because your heart is all filled up with joy. Yeah, that's what it is. That's why we do it.