Barrage in Arizona: The Gilbert Show--or--A Homecoming Without Corsages & Boutineers

The setting in which I'm writing this blog post is unusually poetic:

We're somewhere in Kentucky, driving through the Appalachian Mountains, whose copper, bronze and gold palatte reminds me very much of all those Bob Ross paintings I saw growing up as a child. It's overcast and slightly drizzly as we go through small coal mining towns...the type where looking too "trendy" (by mainstream American standards) gets you funny looks as you take a booth in the Applebee's next to your hotel. I'm listening to the strikingly poignant soundtrack of (500) Days of Summer. All things considered, it's pretty much a perfect setting for reflecting on the craziness of this past weekend in Arizona.

Saturday night was the much-anticipated "hometown" show (though the show, technically, was in Gilbert and I'm from Mesa, my house is only 15 minutes away from the venue, so we'll ignore that tiny fact). It's tough to say what exactly my expectations were prior to the show, but I think it's easy enough to say that regardless of the fact that I didn't have any specific expectations, any expectations I could have had were met. And far exceeded.

Let's start with the easier parts to describe. Firstly, Highland High School's orchestras were so unbelievably great. They were, without a doubt, the most well-prepared and talented group, in my opinion, with whom Barrage has worked with since my joining last summer--other members of the band echoed this sentiment as well, so it's not just a personal bias. Bill Bitter and Amy Bennett really have a phenomenal program on their hands. We were all blown away by their rhythm, intonation, and musicality (props to the violas: I can't remember the last time I heard such musical pizzicati!).

[A few hours later...]

I now continue this post after lunch, a nap, and travel through more of Kentucky, Virginia, and now Tennessee. In terms of scenery, it's much of the same: fall is permeating every inch of the Appalachians. Fortunately, however, the sun has come out (which, in turn, calls for a change of music: now it's Liz Carroll's "In Play"). Here are some pictures from a stop we just made somewhere in Tennessee:

Back to Gilbert, where fall colors don't exist.

I'm very much in awe of the whole experience. In the autograph line, all sorts of people from my life pre-Barrage appeared out of the woodwork: former teachers, former students, role models, neighbors, and acquaintances, confidants & close friends from all sorts of outlets. People kept coming up behind me, touching my shoulders, and saying things into my ear as I was signing CDs and posters for some other concert-goer in front of me.

In those moments, I felt so loved/humbled/thankful/appreciated/supported

/surprised/impactful/emotional/ecstatic/overwhelmed. There's really no effective way to describe it. I am not capable of capturing in words what it's like to have years of work and dedication pay off in exactly the way I hoped it might. As I told my mom before heading to the show, it's like I had been working the past 11 years, since I first saw Barrage on PBS in 7th grade, for that night. It's weird.

I'm not sure how to end this post...I feel obligated to finish with some pithy (and humorous?) anecdote about the importance of hardwork or perserverance or coal towns of Kentucky. I don't know if I have just the right one. I guess I can only offer the following:

To those of you have helped and believed in me along the way, thank you.