One of the most basic functions of an executive director is to point to the moon, to borrow (and maul) a Buddhist phrase. If we do our jobs well, you see the moon rather than us most of the time. In our case, the moon is the exquisite music you experience every Tuesday evening from June through August.

Rush Hour staff hunkers down from September through May and does the wrap up, fundraising and production work necessary to present these concerts to you. Naturally, it is a time of reevaluation, of dreaming, and of renewal. And so it is in this spirit that I tell you that I have decided to transition out of my role as executive director at Rush Hour and into my next challenge. 

I am pleased and honored to have been part of Rush Hour for the last two years. Your support as an audience has shown in every way: in our standing-room-only crowds, your moral and financial support, and the appreciation for the beautiful music presented by our friends and colleagues - the artists of Rush Hour. 

Being part of Rush Hour for its 9th and 10th seasons has been a dream come true for me - and also a period of incredible personal growth. (It is fitting that one of my last tasks as executive director is to write you this letter - my role at Rush Hour has redefined my great love of writing!) To share stewardship of such a fine organization with all of the people who make it great - in particular the artists, volunteers, board, and staff - has been a rewarding experience. The energy, love, and ideals of the organization have made it a meaningful place to work and I thank all of you for welcoming me with open arms and enthusiasm. 

I am called to adjust my path now, and I feel that now - during the autumn - is the best time to do so.

So...in the spirit of the executive director, have you seen that glorious moon? 

I'm pointing to it.