A Chicago to DC Exclusive: Behind the Scenes at Trauma2Art

Sometime in the fall of 2010 I was approached via e-mail to see if I was interested in joining a couple of my fellow American University alumni in a writing project.The request for my contributions couldn't have come at a better time, really. This project was Trauma2Art.

Trauma2Art started out as the initial brain child of freelance writer Lauren Muscarella and has ballooned into a creative outlet for many individuals seeking solace due to the loss of a loved one.

Trauma2Art's message is simple: "Encourage creative expression from those who have experienced grief."

Thanks to Ms. Muscarella, Trauma2Art has enabled those who were crippled and confused after experiencing the immense grief that comes with loss to seek what they're feeling deep inside and expressing it in a forum full of people who truly understand.

On April 20, Trauma2Art will be hosting its first (of what we hope will be many) fundraisers in Washington, D.C. The event will be held at Coppi's Organic Restaurant on U St. starting at 6 p.m. and more details are available on the event's Facebook page.

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The following question and answer session is an exclusive interview conducted by the Chicago to DC POV with Trauma2Art founder Lauren Muscarella (pictured on the left) and Trauma2Art contributor Tara Shlimowitz (pictured on the right) via e-mail.

Chi2DC: What prompted you to start the site? I know that your work on your personal blog MamaQuest had a a major influence on your work with grief and helping others dealing with grief.

Lauren: After I started MamaQuest.org, I had an overwhelming number of people reach out to tell me that the blog inspired them to start a journal. Another thing that happened was people started telling me about their own experiences. Everyone has such a unique perspective and it was obvious that there needed to be an outlet and forum to encourage this type of discussion.

Chi2DC: What prompted you (Tara) to join the site as a contributing writer? I know that you had known Lauren from school but what other factors aligned and enabled you to start working on this project?

Tara: Each time Lauren updated her blog, she would post a new link to her gchat status. I'd click through and read her posts, always thinking that it was so bold of her to openly talk about her feelings to the world. I've never been the type to just offer up such personal information. My outlet has always been writing, but I keep it to myself. I told Lauren how much I admired what she was doing, and then told her about my own experience with losing my father. She encouraged me to share my writing on her blog, and I always nicely declined, though deep down I wanted to but just didn't have the courage. Her strength was so inspiring that it led me to publish my first story about my father since a poem I wrote shortly after his death (it was published in a student anthology when I was 10).

Chi2DC: What is it about Trauma to Art that you feel helps bereaved individuals find a community? Or is the "end result" not a community but rather something else entirely?

L: Community development is a huge part of Trauma to Art. I think community development should be a part of everyone's business plan whether it's a non-profit or for-profit business. At its very core, Trauma to Art gives people who have experienced loss a forum to share their story. What I found from writing MamaQuest, which is true of Trauma to Art as well, is that the act of expressing yourself is equally as helpful as reading someone else's story. In one single act you help yourself and others. As far as community development goes, the start of our in-person meet-up groups will bring people together who normally would never have connected. The construct that brings people together essentially is grief but the bigger picture is advocating for expression as a powerful tool to cope with any hardship. Like Joan Didion said, "I write so I can learn what I think."

T: I agree with Lauren. It's very powerful to express yourself artistically and then have the courage and strength to share it with someone, anyone. T2A creates a forum where it's ok to express how you're feeling. Society doesn't really encourage grief. Immediately after trauma there is a "grieving period," but after that, that's what therapists are for. People feel awkward to be around someone who is grieving or talking about their loss after the nebulous grieving period is "over." You're supposed to hold it all in so that others don't feel uncomfortable. Heaven forbid you continue to express yourself in the most human way possible. But T2A is helping to diminish that taboo by providing a safe space for continued self-expression. There's something very human and also illuminating in sharing your feelings with others. The more people who realize that, the more acceptable it will be, and T2A is leading the way.

Chi2DC: (Lauren) Talk to me about this fundraiser. It's the organization's first fundraiser ever. It is a joint event. What gave you the idea for the fundraiser and why did you pick D.C. for its location?

L: Instinct. Even though I live in Massachusetts now many of the site's contributors and supporters live in D.C. After seven years of working and living in DC as well as going to American University, I amassed quite the family. There are so many people whom I love in D.C. So after I received my incorporation papers for Trauma to Art I naturally wanted to down to D.C. to have an event. Carlos, the owner of Coppi's, seemed like a good person to call because his restaurant has an amazing energy and he has experienced a great loss himself. In November 2009 his sister Nori Amaya was murdered in her apartment in NW D.C. When I called he told me her story would be on America's Most Wanted the following week. It just seemed like the perfect time to combine our causes. Getting the word out about Nori's case and having as many people as possible see her AMW is very important to me. Like you mentioned it's a joint event with half of the funds going to Trauma to Art and half of the funds going to The Nori Amaya Foundation, which supports women's self-defense.

Chi2DC: Many Trauma to Art contributors, myself and Tara included, live in D.C. How many are there? Next to D.C., what other cities are involved in the project?

L: Trauma to Art just started in November so it's growing every month. There is one other contributor in D.C., Amanda Heptinstall. She wrote an amazing piece about losing her best friend to suicide as a teen. Her story is so powerful. I feel honored to have worked with her on it. You can read it here In addition to what you see on the site, there are several other people in the D.C., throughout the U.S. and even in the U.K. who are currently working on pieces for Trauma to Art. A lot of people contact me about participating. I encourage everyone who contacts me, but I don't put deadlines on them. They come when they come. Everyone has their own individual creative process.

Chi2DC: Have you met any interesting people or heard any particular stories since joining up with Trauma to Art?

L: Yes! You! Since starting Trauma to Art I have become this available listeners. People approach me, email me, call me and share their stories. I feel so honored and grateful to play this role whenever I can. I don't feel its my place to tell those stories. I'm not sure I could do them justice. I encourage anyone who is curious to go onto http://trauma2art.com to read what is currently there. Tara's writing is great. Your writing is great. I'm inspired by everyone who has submitted a piece. The people who connect with me provide me with the fuel and inspiration to build Trauma to Art.

Chi2DC: If you could share any words of encouragement with someone going through a state of grief, whether that's the loss of a friend, family member, pet, etc., what's the one sentiment you would want to share with them the most?

L: I don't know if this is considered encouragement but I usually tell people the following: Accept that you'll make mistakes, commit to figuring out how to cope, love and respect the people who love you, be patient and over time you'll gain clarity. I tell people that writing and creating worked for me but I don't and will not push my ideas on anyone. People need to find out what works for them and if it happens to be Trauma to Art than I will be supportive and encouraging. The site and its writers, me included, are simply available resources.

T: My experience made me such a pessimist. I stopped believing in a lot of things. I was young, so I guess it just made me realize the harsh realities of life sooner than most people do. It's very difficult to lose someone close to you. Very difficult. But a loss should awaken you to those you still have around you. Kurt Vonnegut wrote that the "purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved." Take a step back and look at the people in your life who are most important to you. Love them. Appreciate them. And tell them that. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Chi2DC: Trauma to Art has received a lot of attention in the grief community. Do you have any plans to take the site "up a notch" or to keep expanding its content?

L: The grief community has certainly made me feel welcome. The people in this industry are positive, supportive and inspiring for sure. As far as the site goes, like anything anyone works one, it needs to be evolving and updated constantly. I will be making some improvements to the site in the next few months. My biggest priority is making the information easy to find and the site easy to use. There is no need to overcomplicate it. It's a work in progress. As far as expanding the content, I will continue to work to raise awareness for the site. Like I mentioned, many people are currently working on projects and I don't push anyone to meet a specific deadline. I like to let nature takes its course.

Chi2DC: What is your ultimate goal for Trauma to Art as an organization?

T: I'd really like to see T2A take off. Where are the angel investors out there? I'd love for Lauren to get some funds to promote the organization, attract more contributors and eventually start community outreach/projects/programs. I'm helping Lauren in any way she asks -- editing, researching -- since this type of start-up requires lots of volunteer manpower. T2A has already done a lot for me, by showing me that I have the strength to be open about my experience. Since T2A unlocked that inside of me, I am happy to help in any way I can.

L: I have so many aspirations for Trauma to Art. To explain I have to back up about 13 years. This story was always in the back of my mind when I was working to bring the idea of Trauma to Art into fruition. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 5 so the idea was pretty commonplace to me. As a kid I almost assumed everyone had a mum with cancer. When I was about 13, the mother of a girl I knew passed away from cancer. The girl was a few years older than me and she got into a lot of trouble after it happened. She started using drugs and hanging around with a bad crowd. I can't even explain how much this worried my mother. She talked to me about it at the time and made me promise her this would never be me no matter what happened. I was lucky enough to have an amazing support system of people around me and so that never was me but if the Trauma to Art community can prevent that from happening by providing an outlet than I think we would all feel very proud and accomplished. That story is one of the reasons Trauma to Art will publish an annual yearbook to distribute to schools for free. Everyone is welcome at Trauma to Art because I think a well-rounded age disparity is essential for any learning environment but young people are the ones to focus on, in my opinion.

For more information regarding Trauma2Art and how to get involved, please visit www.trauma2art.com.

A Little Laughter Makes Everything Better: The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear

When I decided to attend American University for college over six years ago, one of the first things my dad said to me was, "You'll get to see a Presidential Inauguration! How cool!"

As an individual who has never been too into politics and sees our democracy more as something that tears people apart than brings them together, the whole "seeing a Presidential Inauguration" didn't seem too cool at the time. The history nerd dwelling deep inside my cerebral cortex, however, was running rampant with eager excitement.

"A chance to see living history," my inner-self proclaimed, "sign me up!"

Unfortunately, my father passed away days before President Obama's inauguration during my senior year of college and his funeral was on Inauguration Day. I never saw the inauguration live like my dad said I would. Instead, I spent that special day in Chicago with the man who told me how cool my first presidential inauguration in DC was going to be -- while at his funeral.

The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear was my first foray into attending a major event on the National Mall. For several of my friends, this was far more fun than the historic inauguration due to miserably frigid winter temperatures during Obama's speech. For me, it was the perfect introduction to how many people in this country actually know how to chill out and have a good time.

And to think I almost didn't go because I was tired. That seems so silly in retrospect:

It took nearly an hour and a half to commute from Tenleytown in NW DC to reach the site of the rally. After three packed-to-capacity rail cars passed the hundreds of people impatiently waiting to step foot onto a train, my friends and I hopped on a train headed toward Maryland, got off four stops later, and then waited about another 20 minutes for a train back into the city. Along the way, we made a few “friends” from out of town. One even over heard me asking my friends for a piece of gum and a complete stranger asked me if I would like a piece. Everyone was in such high spirits. I think Jon Stewart’s goal of getting America to chill out a little was the tone set for all in attendance. I’ve never seen more people in one place in my entire life. The National Mall was a sea of people that felt like a never-ending mosh pit. There was an overall jolly atmosphere surrounding Washington. Everyone, as far as I could tell, was having fun. I think that’s the most important thing to take away from the rally itself — that we really can all get along sometimes if we just take a minute to chill out and have a good laugh.

-- Excerpt from "We Love Rallies: We Love DC Reactions to the Rally To Restore Sanity" on We Love DC.

After trying to push our way through the crowd for over an hour, my friends and I fled the mall and walked through the streets of Washington with wonder while people-watching for the rest of the day.

Thanks Comedy Central for entertaining District residents and the country this weekend, it was a nice reminder to relax and enjoy the fact that we can even host such rallies. The fact that our country and government allows for such a farce of a rally to even occur is living proof that we're pretty awesome here in America.

On Idina Menzel...

I had the privaledge of attending Tony award winner Idina Menzel's opening show of a three-day set worth of Pops performances with the National Symphony Orchestra at the Kennedy Center's Concert Hall Thursday night.

For both Menzel and myself, it was our second time ever setting foot in the Kennedy Center ... well my second time as a patron and Menzel's second time as a performer. Her first time was to pay homage to her idol Barbra Stresisand when she was honored for her for lifetime achievement in the performing arts. My first time was for an opera during college as part of my music minor.

I've taken the liberty of reveiwing the evening on We Love DC and my full column can be found there, however, I wanted to take a moment to mention Ms. Menzel's greatest attribute -- her gratitude.

Her voice and stage presence speak for themselves. She is a musical force to be reckoned with and is one talented fire-cracker of a woman. She's funny. She seems slightly scattered brained but in a good way. And even with all of her professional success and good family life, she still manages to not only stay grounded but express her gratitude with sheer sincerity.

Musical performance aside, one memory I will always associate with the evening is her extending her deepest gratitude for showing up and supporting a girl whose life long dream was to sing.

She thanked her mom for playing babysitter for her while on this trip to D.C. Menzel and husband Taye Diggs have a 13-month-old son named Walker who accompanied mommy and grandma to the District this week. She even dedicated her encore performance of "Tomorrow" from Annie to dear old mom. If that's not saying "Thanks" then I don't know what else could.

She sang some of the songs written with Diggs while taking care of the baby as an "I love you" to Walker.

She credited her successful career to the late Jonathan Larson who wrote Rent (which was Menzel's professional debut on Broadway).

She spoke more than highly of her husband. It sounds like those two have something really special and she knows how lucky she is to have him in her life.

And she sang a rendition of "For Good" (from Wicked) that brought tears to my eyes:

The evening’s finest moment wasn’t an expected show-ending rendition of Wicked’s “Defying Gravity” or an encore performance of Annie’s “Tomorrow.” Both were fantastic routines with a genuine voice backing up the song’s sentiments, but Menzel took it upon herself to garnish the night with a spine-tingling surprise gift for her audience.

Before the orchestra started “Defying Gravity,” Menzel removed her in-ear monitors. “I think I can do this without these in,” she mumbled. Then she put her microphone down.

No one knew what she was trying to do. Conductor Marvin Hamlisch looked confused. Menzel appeared to be nervous. It looked like she was ready to exit the stage. Then, she opened her mouth and started singing.

“I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason,” she began. Those are the opening lines to a song from Wicked titled “For Good.” It is a heart-wrenching song describing the relationship between the witches of Oz.

Never in my life have I heard such an organic performance from a singer of her caliber. Menzel, in that moment, was mesmerizing. Her voice filled the room without any assistance from a microphone. She’s that powerful of a musical force.

Some people say “Thank You” by filling out generic cards they bought at a CVS Pharmacy. Idina Menzel says “Thank You” by singing a song that means the world to her a Capaella at the Kennedy Center.

For that, Ms. Menzel, this singer/writer would like to say just one word: thanks.

-- Excerpt from "We Love Music: A Date with Idina Menzel & The NSO Pops" seen on We Love DC.

Idina Menzel strikes me as the kind of person I have always striven to be. Grateful, happy, stressed by work but all the better for it because hard work is always worth it, in love with what I do for a living, singing, surrounded by music, and always working on making myself a better person.

Based on her presence at the Kennedy Center Thursday I feel confident in saying Idina Menzel is a treasure in the musical community because she means every word she sings and is a model human being. I'm sure she's flawed, as are we all, but there's really just something special about Idina Menzel.

American Idol: Making Dreams Come True For Those Who Never Thought It Was Possible

One of the last things the American Idol producers tell their prospective contestants before auditioning in a collective group of 10,000+ in a giant arena nearly filled to capacity is to not get yourselves down if you're not selected. It doesn't mean you can't sing, it just means you're not what the show is looking for -- that's it.

The hardest part is shoving all your hopes and dreams into a once-in-a-lifetime, seat-of-your-pants, whirlwind weekend of fulfilling your loftiest personal goals and then being shot down.

It took me until 26 hours after the fact to realize why being denied a spot on American Idol was quite easily the biggest compliment the show's producers could have ever issued me upon being cut from the first round of auditions. Sure, the initial blow stung my body, brain, and heart with the force of a million knives prodding every orifice of my being, but the pain subsided. The numb feeling led to a few shed tears while listening to one of many Glee tracks off the CD's my friend had created for our 11-13 hour road trip from DC to Nashville as we drove off in the sunset toward Sonic to drown our sorrows in greasy, heartburn inducing comfort food.

For whatever reason, I left Bridgestone Arena after being in or around it from 5 a.m. until 7 p.m. heartbroken and pained. I shouldn't have, but at least I knew I cared.

I could choose to go on tirade and trash everything American Idol stands for, but that wouldn't be doing the show justice. At first, I almost went as far as to say that the show's place in popular culture could be a detrimental to the hopes and dreams of the individuals the show seeks as contestants. That isn't the case.

I now believe I know the truth -- American Idol is the best makeover show that isn't marketed as such -- or at least, not in an obvious fashion.

Think about the faces you've seen over the past nine season of American Idol. Often times, if not every time, the final two contestants are people no one would have ever imagined being on the cover of a magazine or staring in their own music video, let alone end up with a major record deal. That's the point of the show.

American Idol takes the underdog, the unlikely candidate, and allows them the opportunity to seek a future greater than their wildest dreams could have ever imagined. They let thousands of people audition in order to have them feel like they have a place in all of the pomp and circumstance of it all, but it's really just a show allotting a dream to someone who wouldn't have been offered a chance by modern social and entertainment standards.

Try to remember all the faces the on the American Idol stage since 2000 -- Kelly Clarkson, Justin Guarini, Ruben Studdard, Clay Aiken, Diana DeGarmo, Fantasia Barrino, Bo Bice, Carrie Underwood, Katharine McPhee, Taylor Hicks, Blake Lewis, Jordin Sparks, David Archuleta, David Cook, Adam Lambert, Kris Allen, Crystal Bowersox, and Lee DeWyze. These aren't your everyday pop stars. Each individual grew immensely during the process and were by no means the "text book" definition of a pop star when they started out, no matter how much talent (or lack thereof) they portrayed.

That's why singers who took the time out of their busy and routine driven lives can't get too down on themselves for having auditioned and not making it past the preliminary round of American Idol auditions. Those young performers with years of practice, natural talent, or anywhere in between have to know it's not that they can't sing. It's just the opposite. You have what it takes to pursue the music industry on your own, unassisted by FOX or American Idol. That's why the producer's cut you. You can make your dream come true on your own, it's just about the timing and execution.

If you want your dream bad enough, you can achieve it. American Idol isn't for people who know they have exactly what it takes to make it big. American Idol is for the people who never thought being a musical superstar could ever happen. American Idol is an outlet to keep what's good about America alive, it keeps that hard-work ethic and the whole "happy endings DO come true" ideal alive in our imaginations.

So if you've ever been cut from the show like I have and feel like you weren't given your fair shot at fulfilling your dreams, know that it's the opposite. American Idol just handed you your dreams and said, "Take your talent, stage presence, and passion and use it the way you know how. Carve your own path. You know how to do it. Why are you here? You don't need us to write your story, you can do it on your own."

For those of you who have made it through to the additional rounds of auditions and will be on the tenth season of American Idol, I hope all your wildest dreams come true. You deserve it. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad bit jealous.

I hope to cross paths with you one day. If we both keep it up, I'm sure we will.

So thanks American Idol, for proving to me that I have what it takes to make my dreams come true and thanks for giving those who never thought they had a chance an opportunity to succeed. That's pretty gosh darn nice if you ask me.

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A personal aside: I really have to take a moment to say how grateful I am for the amazing and incredibly touching amount of support you all shared with me since announcing my decision to audition for American Idol. It's something I honestly never thought I would do and if it weren't for this experience I wouldn't have found this additional source of inspiration to continue doing what I love to do (all of you really showed me that my love for music does more than inspire myself but it inspires all of you as well, so thank you) plus a new found confidence in performing. If I can belt out the best performance of my life in a 60 second period in front of the American Idol producers then nothing can stop me. You all know who you are so I don't need to name names, just know you've all touched me more than you could have thought possible. So for that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Much Love,

Rachel Levitin

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There are also two photo albums of my journey /// one /// two

The Road to Nashville

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This time last year I was sitting on my couch, staring at Craig's List on the daily, unemployed, bored out of my mind, and border-line broke.

What a difference 12 months makes.

Tonight my friend Shea and I will depart from the Nation's capital for a close to 11 hour drive toward Nashville to audition for the tenth season of American Idol. The show's changed a lot in a decade but so have I. My dad's heart transplant was still something my family was getting used to back in 2000. Grammy award winner Kelly Clarkson would go on to become American Idol's first winner. I hadn't even entered high school yet.

My younger self had a bedroom plastered with Justin Timberlake and Drew Lachey posters (most of which still lay in pile on a bookshelf). I had more CD's then I knew what to do with. A strong obsession with pop music and a desire to fit in encouraged this shy young'n to start pursuing what really made her tick -- music.

I still remember the day I was home alone with my dog watching a Backstreet Boys special on what was then called ABC Family Channel. That's what inspired me to take my love for music, teeny bopper tuneage, and pop culture and apply it to my life. My goal in life quickly transformed into being a pop star.

Hell, when I was 12 I wrote a short story for English class about how Will Smith would present the Grammy for Best New Artist to me by the age of 16. A girl can dream, right?

Well here I am on the cusp of a life changing event. Will the producers at American Idol find me marketable and talented enough to receive the illusive yellow sheet of paper sending me to Hollywood or will I be shot down for "not having what it takes?"

If I get shot down, that's their loss. I've been at this for far too long and I happen to know the show would be lucky to have me, if not for my "talent" and hard work put in to maintain that talent then for the wonderful story behind my inspiration.

You see, the doctors told my parents I would be lucky to survive being born back in the day. I was premature by five weeks, 3 pounds 5.5 ounces at birth, and in dire need of immediate surgery upon being born a blue baby.

This has really been a long time coming and let me tell you, the timing is everything. I can almost guarantee the producers will ask me why I haven't auditioned before if I have all this musical background. The answer is simple: the timing wasn't right yet. Sure, dreams are great and all but if I hadn't gotten a college degree those dreams wouldn't have meant much to me.

My love for music started early and undoubtedly stem from my dad and my Uncle Tim. My Uncle Tim was a music teacher and bought me my first coronet (a smaller version of a trumpet). My grandma (my mom's mom) on the other hand bought me my first "guitar" before the age of five. It was a red ukulele that I legitimately thought WAS a guitar. My dad and I proceed to start writing songs shortly after, the only title I remember is "Pink Flamingo" but it was a good time for what I remember of the experience.

Dad was a singer throughout high school and college, often landing lead roles in musicals like Guys and Dolls (he played Nathan Detroit) and Fiddler on the Roof (he played Perchick). He was a singer/songwriter/guitar player himself ... guess the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.

What got me through my dad's heart transplant? Music. What kept my hopes up during middle school and high school for feeling out of place in a social scene that revolved around who was invited to so-and-so's party on the weekend? Music. What makes me smile when I'm having a bad day? Music.

Music got me through three funerals in one summer (last summer that is) -- my dad's, my grandma's, and my bubbe's. I played "You've Got a Friend" in honor of dad because he absolutely LOVED James Taylor. I played "New York, New York" for bubbe because nobody loved old Blue Eyes more (plus she was from Brooklyn). I played taps on my coronet at my grandma's funeral at Fort Snelling in Minnesota. Music is the light in the darkness shed from life's curve balls.

Lord knows my family has had horrendous and occasionally uplifting curve balls thrown at us throughout the years. That's why this trip to Nashville is more than something to make me happy about my own life. This trip is about my family and all that we stand for. What do we stand for? I'm not entirely sure I have an answer to that. What I do know is nothing would make them happier than to see me doing what I love, sharing it with others, and telling our family's uplifting story that it is possible to overcome even the harshest of blows.

So thank you to all who have supported me in this adventure. I hope to make you proud.

Life Lessons From Matt Capps

[Portions of this post were mentioned in "Matt Capps: An All-Around All-Star" for We Love DC.]

Photo by Cheryl Nichols/Nationals News Network

It's easy to forget that professional athletes are regular people in disguise. In some ways, they get to have all the fun all for signing a contract stating: "You are now the best of the best in a particular crop of others who we've deemed worthy. For this we will provide you with a hefty salary. In return, all we ask is that you accept the fact that you are now, and forever, a public figure no matter if that is what you want or not."

Until this week, Lebron James was among the crop of individuals American's have deemed worthy of calling "the best" and worth spotlighting via every news outlet imaginable. Others before him include Michael Jordan, Ernie Banks, Nolan Ryan, Michael Phelps, Reggie Jackson, Kobe Bryant, Brett Favre, Walter Peyton, and many more.

There are lessons to be learned from the laundry list of professional athletes who make more money than most of us will ever accumulate in our lifetime all for being really really good at a sport that for the majority of American's remains something we did with our time after school as a kid. Extra curricular activities aside, the men (and women for that matter) who put themselves out there into the public sphere for the love of the game are still just as human as any one of us.

Matt Capps is a man we could all learn a lesson from.

And to think, just one year ago Capps was regarded by his team at the time as being on the outs of his favorite game to play.

Adam Kilgore's article in the Washington Post regarding Capps and his father.

There was a revealing piece, compliments of Nationals beat writer Adam Kilgore, in Sunday's Washington Post shedding light on the importance of Capps making his first All-Star Game appearance of his career this Tuesday.

Before this piece, it was a known fact that Capps lost his father whom he was very close with last October. To gloss over this part of Capps' life when thinking about the context in which it lies would be a mistake.

Capps continues to post stellar numbers as the Washington Nationals' closer, but it's the rough outings in which the game's outcome doesn't go his way where fans could easily get upset and begin raining on his parade.

A professional athlete's career depends on performance, but what happens when occurrences in one's personal life begin to take a slight toll on a players performance level.

For Matt Capps this is not the case. His personal life is at the core of his personal motivation no matter the outcome of the game on a daily basis.

This is why there are lessons to be learned from Capps.

So what's the lesson? As someone who lost their father a year and a half ago I can attest to the fact that all you want to do is break down. Your life feels stunted. To continue living your life without your go-to person available on the other end of a phone call leaves a hole in your heart. But no matter how big that hole is, you don't let it defeat you. In essence, you have to do that person's work for them now that they're no longer with you.

My father and myself, June 2005 at RFK Staidum for my first Nationals game.

I still hear my father's voice in my head on the daily even though we haven't had an actual conversation since about January 15, 2009. I didn't let his death defeat me, I utilized it as a tool and source of further motivation. So does Matt Capps.

Capps spoke to his father every day over the phone, often times more than once according to Kilgore's article "All that's missing is his father". His father's absence hits him the most at his most joyful moments Kilgore wrote. All Capps wanted to do after being named to the the first All-Star team in his professional career was call his dad, but he couldn't.

Capps will join baseballs biggest names of the modern era Tuesday for the mid-summer classic in Anaheim, California.

"You learn a lot about yourself as a person, as an athlete, through your failures," Capps told Kilgore. "It's easy to play this game when you're good, you're pitching well, you're playing well. You really learn about how much you love the game, how much it means to you, when you're fighting through those hard times."

"It's part of life," Capps said. "I'm moving forward and doing what I want to do. That would make him proud to know. By going out and playing and working hard off the field, preparing every day, that's the best way of remembering and representing the name that I carry."

Imagine going into a work each day with thousands of people watching, coaches breathing down your neck, and media outlets digging for quotes. None of these things are necessarily bad, but it sure doesn't make life much of a cake walk.

Matt Capps continues to go into work everyday, despite his heartbreak, and hones his pitching as best as he can. That's all he can do. He, like all of us, is human after all.

In this era of human self-involvement and narcissism seen in sports (cough cough ... LeBron James ... cough cough), a lot of these "feel-good" human interest life lessons get lost in the world of sports.

Here's to Matt Capps and his touching story behind why he plays the way he does for the Washington Nationals. Here, here.

Pictured: Matt Capps, myself, and Craig Stammen at Nats FanFest 2010 at Nationals Park.

Picking Up Where Dad Left Off: Raising Organ Donation Awareness One Day At A Time

The past few days have been very productive. I've made contact with Donate Life Illinois' Gift of Hope (a group my dad worked very closely with shortly after his transplant until 2009) and the Washington Regional Transplant community to get them in on this organ donation awareness musical project I'm embarking on.

"The Bourbon Taster EP" will debut tomorrow at the Columbia Heights Market Place when I hit the stage at 1 p.m. I don't have "donate life" paraphanila to hand out with the albums yet, but should have something for the rest of my gigs from here on out.

Residents of the DMV regional area will also be able to sign up to be an organ donor at my gigs as soon as I receive these materials, which I think is the most important thing besides the proceeds from album sales going to the National Kidney Foundation and Donate Life campaign.

I'm very excited to embark upon this project and can't believe that it starts in under 24 hours.

I'm picking up where dad left off. This is only the beginning.

Note: Those "Bourbon Taster EP"'s won't be limited edition for long, still gotta get the album work done at Kinkos. It should be ready by mid-month. So look forward to that!

Blue Moon of Kentucky, Keep on Shinin'

The first time I ever learned anything about Kentucky I was in the third grade. My teacher at the time, Mrs. Olswang, was a Kentucky native. Like me, she was short in stature, huge in personality, and I really looked up to her – both literally and metaphorically.

Back in school, I was what some might call a “brown noser” or a “teacher’s pet,” but that’s not how I saw it. My fascination with learning started at a young age. I was three when I first learned how to read. It was a steady sailing ship from there. Reading, writing, classes – learning was what I loved.

When it came time to pick what state I would write my third grade American history state report about, the choice was simple. I would do Kentucky because that’s where my teacher was from – that and … it was the only state not taken already.

Fast forward to my junior year in high school – my best friend thought he was a cowboy. Some think that’s strange. I however loved it, still love it, and it is one of my prized memories of my first 18 years of life spent in Chicago.

You see, my friend Brad’s dad was from Kentucky. Brad and I were of the “less popular” crowd. We liked loud music and were slightly “out of place.” So we confided in each other along with our friend Claire for what turned out to be a pretty solid trio of friendship for many years. During that time, I rode around in Brad’s Jeep while he wore the boots, Wranglers, the hat, spoke with a slight drawl on occasion for fun, all while blasting Charlie Daniels Band, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Bill Monroe throughout the downtown streets of Chicago.

Yup, we were definitely out of place. But we loved it.

Brad outside of Claire's house in 2005

Claire and me in Dublin, Ireland in 2004

Brad went on to school in Lexington, Kentucky at the state university there. Claire went on to a multitude of things, but continues to ride horses throughout the country. I am in our Nation’s capital, but tomorrow I make the trip to Kentucky.

It will be my first time there and I’m going on business (also a first for me as a young working woman).

You better believe I’ll be thinking of the good old days of high school the entire time. I always thought my first time in Kentucky would be with Brad and Claire. Oh well. I’ll just have to take a lot of pictures so I can show ‘em at our five year high school reunion in the fall.

And now – as a gift to all of you and myself – I leave you with the top five country songs our trio from high school relied on to make us smile while cruising down Lake Shore Drive:

5. "Mississippi Kid" - Lynyrd Skynyrd



4. "Long Haired Country Boy" - Charlie Daniels



3. "Simple Man" - Charlie Daniels Band



2. "That Smell" - Lynyrd Skynyrd



1. "Blue Moon of Kentucky" - Bill Monroe

Wise Words, Compliments of Disney ... and Louis Armstrong

Two of my favorite things: childhood and good old Sachmo.

The Night I Went Back in Time

The laundry list including my likes and dislikes since as far back as I can remember was always on a tangent yet parallel path to the mainstream thoughts of the people surrounding me at any given time.

If I was around my grandparents, I took interest in their favorite things: Frank Sinatra, Golf, shopping, and family-time.

If I was around my sister, that list changed to: Disney movies, cartoon-based action movies, musicals, and pop music.

If I was around my classmates at school that list climbed the ranks in subject matter with a bit more intellectual base to it: history, classic literature, music, creative writing.

School was my mecca of all things truly fun that I learned how to do all on my own. I took it upon myself to excel at my favorite lessons issued by teachers.

My family influenced who I am a great deal like most other families often do. What I learned at school shaped me.

School enabled an on-going struggle to obtain a solid understanding of human nature and people's role in the world's history. I've found that studying history, literature, music, and participating in those sub-cultures of society is a big reward. It creates passion in people. The passion to do something for both themselves and others.

My passion for Jazz music is still very much alive. This Friday was a reminder of that.

I went back in time on Friday night when I visited the Carlyle Club for the first time in Alexandria, Va. (for DMV locals, it's not too far from the King Street Metro station on the Blue and Yellow line).

The following performance left me wishing I had been born in 1925:

Just for Fun: What I Whistle When I Get the Blues

Just for Fun: "Oo-De-Lally" - Robin Hood

A true classic in American cinema.

My Own Two Feet Will Take Me To The Coffee

Let me tell you something you don't already know. I hate to lose. That's the one situation I hate more than change not in my favor. Not being in control of a situation makes me cringe. To lose means a situation that was in your hands got away. I despise feeling that way and I can't imagine too many other people do for that matter.

Competition forces me to out-do myself. To strive for greatness as a constant, not rare, activity. That, in itself, creates a daily struggle to meet one's expectations. Being critical of yourself isn't bad. It requires self-motivation.

I've lacked self-motivation as of late.

My attempt to flip the situation in my favor is to start taking walks. Long walks. 50 plus minute walks to nowhere. The two feet hoisting my mind to the clouds is the navigator on this magic carpet ride.

Enter the cliche: I've been killing multiple birds with one sword thanks to the walks. Long walks count as exercise. I hate to exercise unless there's something at stake. A win-loss count has always been a motivator of mine. The walks count as a win here because that provide with the exercise I would not have gotten otherwise.

The walks are also a necessary literary tool. Case and point -- this blog entry, for starters. Granting your own two feet complete navigational control makes for an adventure you would not have otherwise taken, therefore leaving you nothing to write about. Think about it: does sitting all day in your apartment vegging out in front of the television make for interesting blog fodder or conversation starters? Not a chance.

A good coffee shop was the one destination my feet could not find. Tenleytown doesn't have one. A Starbucks filled with high school students making noise doesn't count. All I wanted was a place to cozy up with Mr. Vonnegut and some sort of latte. That's it. But no -- that dream was not fulfilled -- there was only walking and the purchasing of Abbey Road (Remastered) as a reward for a week of hard work.

It is because of this lack of a coffee shop I propose the following: my feet will take me there and I will keep you posted on my findings. The way I figure it, there's no possible way that I'm the sole individual searching for such a place.

Coffee -- that's what I, that's what I want. And coffee -- that's what I will go out and find. Hi ho.

A One-Liner For February

"It's easy to feel lonely. It takes effort to love."

Happy New Year from the Chicago to DC POV

I never understood why New Year's Eve is such a big deal. It's another day of a week of a month of a year of a decade of a century, etc. What's so special about it?

The sequin dresses, over-the-top partying, and ball drop never did much for me. I'm more of a "seeing the symbolism" behind the holiday rather than a "let's get wasted and forget the year" type of person.

It is with this thought that I urge you all to enjoy your New Year's Eve. Get wasted if you have to. Kiss someone had midnight if you feel so inclined. Get down witcho bad self. Do whatever it is you've gotta do to get through the night. But -- at the end of it -- remember what New Year's Eve means.

A dictionary definition won't provide any insight. You've got to do a little detective work of your own. Pick that brain apart. It might do you some good!

Cheers! I wish you a happy and healthy 2010.

Here's to hoping the next year is better than the last.

I Don't Know A Lot, But I've Learned A Little -- 2009 in Review

History has proven that life is full of on-going struggles. Great battles between mind and spirit take place daily. The movies during the holiday season are proof of this. I most recently saw Sherlock Holmes. Granted -- the story didn't have much of a plot but it kept you on a mental journey that goes as close to full-circle as it can.

As a child, most of my lessons were learned from Disney movies, the (original) Power Rangers, the Disney Channel, or books read in literature class. While I'm not sure whether or not they were the cause for my mental preparedness in life, I must give these muses much credit for helping me get to where I am today.

My life's greatest struggle to date was the year of 2009. Never before had there been such a lengthy time span that's sole purpose was to beat me to the ground the second I got back up again.

The first punch was a sucker punch. Circa 12 a.m., I do believe I may have been drinking the night before. I had finished writing a speech I had wanted to give for over three years for one of my sorority's functions. Then I got a call telling me my dog was dead. Tears of sorrow ensued. Gasps for air followed. The life was being sucked out of me.

This isn't to say Coco was my "best friend" -- but she came pretty damn close. There were times when I was growing up that I would sit atop the staircase leading to the second floor in our house. There's a huge skylight there and it makes for quite the echo, so I would sit there with her while playing guitar and singing songs. I'll never forget doing that. She always seemed so happy to just be sitting with me. It's as if I never had to say anything, she just knew what I was thinking.

Then there was the shot straight to my gut followed by a quick rip to my heart. It was around 6 p.m. when my Bubbe (may she too rest in peace) called. I was babysitting. She told me I'd need to call her right back as soon as I was finished. But I couldn't. I knew something was wrong. So -- for the first time in my ENTIRE life -- she yelled at me, telling me I needed to sit down and to also get out of my babysitting engagement for the night. My dad had passed away.

This was on January 17th, not even 12 months ago.

Today, however, is another occasion all on its own. 10 years ago tonight, my dad got the call that changed my family's life forever.

If my memory is correct, I was rocking out to a VHS recorded version of 'N SYNC's visit to the Rosie show earlier that day. My cousin Hannah and sister Hilary were upstairs doing something. My parents were sitting around, watching TV I assume. And then the flood of frenzied hysterics. He got the call, he tried leaving, I was a bawling mess. All I can still remember is bawling my eyes out and then racing to our basement fax machine to use the phone line. I called three people: 1 - my ex-boyfriend/close friend at the time Luke, my best friend Lily, and my other close friend Keegan (may she too rest in peace). I'm no longer close with any of those people but there role in my life that night will never be forgotten.

The rest of that night feels like a blur. I was so convinced that Y2K was going to become a reality that the thought of my dad having a heart transplant on New Years Eve 1999 felt like a joke.

It's hard to believe that 10 years have passed. An entire decade is now history. I was standing by the bus stop on my way home from work last night when I realized, "I am 22. I am a woman. And -- between the years of 1999 and now, I grew up."

The past 10 years have been the some of the most memorable of my entire life. I will never forget them. They are the years in which I graduated 8th grade, record 2 CDs of original music, walked the warning track at Fenway Park, sat in the Cubs dugout at Wrigley Field, played lead trumpet in jazz band, studied at one of the most world-renowned music camps, studied songwriting with John Mayer's old professors at Berklee, saw every tour 'N SYNC ever did, met Good Charlotte three times, saw Christina Aguilera live, experienced what it was like to be at a Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young Concert, got into my first choice college (and 10 others), pledged a sorority, traveled to three countries, lettered in a varsity high school sport, boycotted watching the White Sox in the 2005 world series, went to all four parks at Disney World in one day, learned to drive/got into a car accident, saw the Cubs at Spring Training, became buddies with George Clooney's dad, graduated college ON TIME and -- finally -- survived the biggest amount of any pain/suffering I've ever had to endure.

So as this decade and year come to a close, I ask you to take a moment for yourself. Sit there. Pause whatever it is you're doing. And think: how have I changed in the past decade? Who was there for it? Who's still here? Then ... I beg you savor all of the bad and realize that without it, the good wouldn't have felt nearly as good.

I don't know much, but I know this -- If I can survive this year, then anyone can survive anything.