Today is my 100th blog. I began writing “One Magical Moment Per Day,” to turn my attention away from the things in my life that I saw as failure. Writing this forced me every day, to search for something positive and inspiring, no matter how sad, angry, or hopeless I felt while pursing my dream of becoming a musician and performer. I didn’t know how long this blog would last when I wrote " Magical Moment 1 ." I remember being surprised that I was in the thirties, then fifties, and now the triple digits. One thing is certain, I would not have made it to a 100 blogs, or made it 6½ months in NYC without support and encouragement from others. I cannot express the gratefulness I feel when I read a comment at the end of my blog, or see “like” under the facebook link. I would have given up long ago if not for my ever supportive grandmas, sisters, parents, husband, friends, and family. Sometimes I look for encouragement in quotes, and have shared some of my favorites below. But the...

I was dreading my upcoming recording session after the last session (in my opinion) went terrible. I grew frustrated and disheartened as I tried to force myself to sound a certain way but never achieved the desired outcome. Eventually, after about 3 hours of work, we ended up scratching the entire session. I went home that night upset and with an aching throat. I play once a week for a tedious musical theatre class for children. I sit behind the keyboard, plunking out the same melody over and over while watching the minute hand inch around the clock. But last week, the monotony broke when a guest instructor led the class. She coached and molded the children with ease, holding their interest…and mine. And when the children moaned that something couldn’t be sung the way it should, she asked them a question, “Is this something you really want to do? Sing on stage?” The kids all nodded yes. “The successful ones don’t make excuses, they just find a way to do it.” I felt as though I was o...

Midway through my predictable run route (down the Boulevard 2½ miles and back up 2½ miles), I wondered what would happen if I took a left instead of a right. When I laced up my shoes this morning, I wasn’t in the mood to break my usual mold, or run harder or longer than normal, but I suddenly felt energetic, ambitious, and curious. I made twists and turns, keeping track of the unfamiliar streets I was on. Suddenly I found myself at the foot of a tremendous hill, so steep that the sidewalk turned to stairs with a handrail to keep pedestrians safe. I rolled my eyes and decided to just attack the thing. Panting and exhausted, I made it to the top. I was welcomed with a breath taking view of the Empire State building and surrounding New York City skyline. It sat like the proverbial “city on a hill,” framed by lush, green trees, and a perfect sunrise. Of all the months I’ve lived here and ran the same route, I’ve never seen such a clear shot of the city. Now I have a new regular run rout...

Ok, so I post videos when I'm pressed for time or experiencing writer's block (in case you haven't noticed). But the thing is, I won't post a video unless it's something I'm absolutely proud of. So here is another song from the Montauk Club in Brooklyn. "Try A Little Tenderness" is one of my favorite songs. I love to hear Michael Buble croon it, or Three Dog Night groove it. I recently added it to my repertoire and discovered I love to play it as well. Not to mention, it's loaded with great advice for some of the more clueless guys out there. Hope you enjoy.

Ever since I saw the movie, “ Only You ” with Marissa Tomei (love her!) when I was in sixth or seventh grade, I’ve been aching to go to Venice. I sift through Starving Artist paint sales searching for the perfect Venetian, framed scene of gondola, water, sunset, and romantic, brick buildings to fill that blank wall I’ve been saving in my living room. Still haven’t found the right one yet. I have tour books that tell me where and when to visit, shop, eat, and stay. Cliché or not, I don’t care. I want to ride in a gondola, eat lunch al fresco, and buy a pair of genuine, Italian leather shoes. Of course now, I’m almost terrified to really go. If Venice didn’t live up to my expectations, I would be crushed. I’ve heard people say it’s not worth it. The water smells and the streets are narrow. I imagine Venice is much like New York City, in the way that some people see beauty and originality in every nook and cranny of the city, while others see garbage, crowds, and endless construction. ...

During a storm, there is only one thing to do. It requires no explanation, no metaphor, no analogy, no rhyme, no plot, and no puns. P salm 107:28:30: " Then they cry out to the LORD in their trouble, and He brings them out of their distresses.He calms the storm, so that its waves are still. Then they are glad because they are quiet; So He guides them to their desired haven."

After playing piano for a year and a half at a Catholic Church (though I myself am not Catholic), I picked up a thing or two about Mary, the mother of Jesus. Not that I didn’t know her story before. Mostly I thought of her at Christmas when the preacher preaches the annual “Christmas Story” and the angel tells her she would bear a son. We see her everywhere. She adorns the nativity set as a porcelain figurine, with a look of angelic, solemn peace. I am no mother, but I know a few of them, and something tells me she wasn’t always so angelic and peaceful. Even Jesus, being the perfect child that He was, probably gave her enough worry and anxiety to keep her at least slightly stressed out. Although we know in our hearts, she existed, it’s difficult to relate her to today’s reality. We keep her on a shelf. It’s easy to dismiss the real struggles, worry, and immense love she felt as a mother. I heard several stories yesterday that were not so easy to dismiss. “ Story Corps ” is an organ...