I was 16 years old. Off to spend four weeks at the Chautauqua Institution high school orchestra. I remember so well the nervous and excited arrival gave way to endless days slipping between music-making and friend-making (and buffalo wings). The dining hall. The lake. The practice rooms. Noticing how good the orchestra was. And how, on the last night, we stayed up on the dock together reliving the last notes of Tchaikovsky 5.

I'm still in touch with many of the friends from that summer, people who now play in orchestras around the country. Those four weeks planted something in a lot of us.

Memories can't help but come back as (our son) Max had his first serious music program the last two weeks, at the Music Academy of the West. Ted and I watched him come alive in exactly the way I remember coming alive, becoming the coolest giant nerd - practicing because he loves it, absorbing everything, and becoming.

Ted wrote something about it. And I wanted to share it with you — not just because it's beautiful (it is), but because it asks a question that feels right for this moment: what made that time so alive? And what would it take to bring some of that back?

Watching Max this summer, I felt something loosen in my chest.

His first serious festival. Challenging repertoire, great peers, inspiring teachers. And he was practicing in his free time. He was lit up in a way I recognized immediately, because I remember being that person.

And then I started wondering: what makes it possible?

Most of us arrived at conservatory expecting that same energy. And it was there, for a while. Even those early professional gigs had an edge of novelty, a sense of stakes. But somewhere along the way, the Brahms 2 you loved at camp becomes the Brahms 2 you've played six times. Mahler 5 stops feeling like an adventure and starts feeling like a responsibility. That's just what sustained careers look like. But it doesn't have to end there.

So what is it about summer festivals that actually works? Because I think there's something here worth naming.

1. The setting is new. There's real power in making music somewhere unfamiliar — ask anyone about their first tour and they'll still tell you about it in detail, years later.

2. Everyone chose to be there. Intrinsic motivation is contagious. When the people around you desperately want to grow, it changes what's possible in the room.

3. Growth is the expectation, not just accuracy. Summer festivals are full of teachers saying "try this." That's a different orientation than "don't miss it."

4. Progress is visible and fast. Every lesson shifts something. You go to bed genuinely curious about tomorrow.

5. And there's a particular pressure that comes from knowing it's temporary — every rehearsal, every late-night conversation, every concert carries a little more weight because the clock is running.

Here's the question I want to answer: what would it take to bring some of that back? Not all of it. But some of it. The orientation toward growth. The sense that this week could change something. The willingness to try something new.

I don't think it requires a new job or a sabbatical. I think it starts with an honest question: what would make this feel alive again?

Great question... What would make this feel alive again? Here are some maybes...

• Maybe it's saying yes to the project you've been sitting on.
• Maybe it's finding one person to make something with this summer.
• Maybe it's giving yourself permission to be a beginner at something again.
• Maybe it's simply paying attention differently — treating this week like it counts.
• Maybe it's letting yourself make something that has no guaranteed audience yet, just because it wants to exist.
• Maybe it's getting clearer on what only you can offer, and starting to build around that.
• Maybe it's returning to why you started, and letting that be the thing that shows you what's possible. This is one of my favorites for my conservatory students, who get so caught up in technique they can't see the forest for the trees.

Maybe it's something I realized when I saw the Takacs Quartet concert last night (and it being the founding cellist András Fejér's last performance after 51 years): when musicians who know the music and each other so completely, what comes out isn't technique anymore. It's pure expression. The language disappears and something true takes its place.

One thing I do know: This feels so truly alive (and even better?) because I get to watch Max do what he loves.

What about you? What was your first summer music experience — and what did it give you? And right now, in this season, what would make it feel alive again?

​
- Ixi
​

3 GOOD THINGS

Get some structure in the form of a beautiful planner​
​It's a 6-month planner ------> perfect for July-December 2026 (also how are we even possibily already 1/2way through this year?!) It's more than just blank pages, but a structure that grounds you when everything else feels scattered.

The Practice with Purpose framework is $99 fo 2 6-month planners! It includes:

• the complete framework ($37 system)
• your 2 physical planners included (a $80 value, shipped to your door)
• ongoing resources + insights you can apply immediately

Have an idea you've been sitting on, and want to finally make it happen? You don't have to do it alone.

We get to the heart of this in the SUMMER PRACTICE, all focused on forging - forging ahead, forging your projects, forging a practice. Here's what's waiting for you inside:​
​

🗒️ 1. The Field Notes

✨ 2. The ideas —​
📌 A Practice with your guide (me!) with exercises and prompts you can sit with for twenty minutes or all season. This is the stuff music school never taught you, but is what your skills are built on.

🎓 3. Live Faculty Sessions — Real People, Real Expertise

Five live classes with faculty who have been exactly where you are — and built something real on the other side of it:

• Cover Letters That Open Doors — David Cook (Associate Professor of Clarinet at Millikin University, founder of Academic Musician Career Consulting) breaks down exactly what gets a cover letter read — and what gets it recycled. Practical and specific.
• Writing Your Artist Statement — Ted Nelson (cellist & arts administrator) walks you through writing a personal and artist statement that sounds like you — not a grant application from last century. His take from what he's learned being on both sides of the aisle.
• Building Something That Lasts — Annie Phillips (former co-director of the entrepreneurship program at New England Conservatory of Music, co-founder of Switchboard Music) brings her experience helping musicians build careers that didn't exist before they built them. (Topic to be announced).
• Audition Masterclass — Andrea Levine (Principal Clarinet of the Louisville Symphony, incoming guest lecturer at Indiana University) gets into the room with you on what it actually takes to walk into an audition prepared, present, and ready.
• Performance Masterclass — Sam Rothstein (Indiana Symphony) shares what his experience building a performing career — what separates the players who succeed from the ones who don't. We'll talk about what sustaining a performing career actually looks like from the inside — the pacing, the setbacks, and the wins.

💫 4. A live Gathering to be in community.
​💛 5. And a closing Integration to mark the transition into autumn.

​[register for the FORGE here!]

Something to sip

I've been into tonics lately, something that tastes good, is refreshing and good for me. Here's something I can do all day:

Lemon juice + peel + fresh mint + ginger root. Blend together with a little water, or add sparkling water. Add basil if you like.

Good to temper all that heat we're channeling into our projects ; - )

What Music360 is focused on

Music360 isn't about abandoning your artistry for entrepreneurship. It's about recognizing that building a meaningful career IS an artistic practice. One that requires the same attention, craft, and integrity you bring to your music - in your whole life.

We're not loud. We don't chase trends. We don't promise overnight transformations.

We are a career hub, a safe place to dream, where you can stop performing your life and start living it.

If this resonates, you're ready for what we do.

Come join us!