Elizabeth Joy has a passion for music, travel, writing, and all things chocolate. You can listen to her music and follow her harp adventures at www.harpistelizabethjoy.com.
Elizabeth Joy has a passion for music, travel, writing, and all things chocolate. You can listen to her music and follow her harp adventures at www.harpistelizabethjoy.com.

How a leap of faith landed one harpist on the beach.

—by Elizabeth Joy

“You want to do what?” my boss asks, shooting me a disapproving glance.

“I am moving to Hawaii to be a professional harpist,” I say.

His brow furrows. “‘Starving artist’ isn’t just an expression, you know. When you come back, come work for us again.”

I flash the most genuine of fake smiles and thank him, gather my belongings, and never look back.

That was a year ago. I had been working for a software company in the Pacific Northwest. The business was interesting, but my job was not. I was quickly bored. The company said I had to wait a year before they would consider transferring me, and meanwhile, my department was moving to a new office location: the basement. In case you are not familiar with the Pacific Northwest, let me fill you in. The climate is rainy and gray.

…I gathered my courage, quit my job, packed up a folk harp and a backpack, and moved to Hawaii to pursue my dream.

So, fresh out of college, 21 years old, and full of hope for a wildly exciting life, I was driving to work in the rain, working all day in a basement, and driving home in a downpour. This was just not going to cut it. I had to escape.

A few months earlier I had visited the Hawaiian Islands for a vacation. The first morning I awoke to a glorious tropical sunrise. The sky brightened with rainbow sherbet colors. Turquoise waves crashed lazily along the white sand of Waikiki Beach. Palm trees swayed and the sun beckoned a massive rainbow that soared over Honolulu. As I soaked it all in from my hotel balcony, I knew that I wanted to live in Hawaii. I wanted to play my harp on the beach and make a living doing so. I could see it.

However, at the time I had just received my job offer at the software company. So I bid Hawaii adieu, but when the threat of working in a basement for a year became imminent, I returned to that vision of a beach office. Dreaming about moving to Hawaii made me giddy, and it made me sick. I knew no one, had no job lined up, and no place to live there. How could I give up a full-time job at a reputable company, a professional title, and even dental insurance? Should I gamble on a new life in Hawaii being a harpist? Was that even a real job? I was determined to try. So I gathered my courage, quit my job, packed up a folk harp and a backpack, and moved to Hawaii to pursue my dream.

When I arrived in Hawaii, I did what any clueless newcomer would do to find work—I wrote a Craigslist ad. I had played harp ever since I was a child and got my first gig when I was only 11. I had a few YouTube videos of me in the backyard playing covers of Disney tunes. I highlighted these facts in my free ad and clicked submit.

I anticipated a flood of responses from eager clients. I got one response, and it wasn’t from a client. It was from a fellow musician who wanted to form a duo to play for weddings. He had a gig at a resort and invited me to stop by to meet him. I was intrigued but wary about meeting a strange man from Craigslist. I was in desperate need of work, however, so I quickly conquered my fear of strange men from Craigslist and went to meet him. Once I determined that he was not a serial killer I introduced myself. He was delightful and told me all about his musical interests and travels, and then he asked about me.

“How long have you lived here in Hawaii?”

“A day.”

“Do you have a job?”

“No.”

The next thing he said changed my life: “Let me get you in touch with my agent.”

He recommended me to a talent agency, and suddenly I was getting booked and living the dream.

The gigs have been unbelievable. Countless brides have hired me for ceremony music for their gorgeous beach weddings. I’ve played for penthouse parties at Trump Tower and serenaded Adam Sandler and Elton John while they dined. The gigs have been as unique as island life. When I’m not working, I’ve gone swimming with dolphins and sea turtles and even tried surfing.

A year after walking out of my gloomy basement office, my Hawaiian harp adventure is better than I even dreamed it could be. Sure, I might not have dental insurance here, but my smile has never been so big. •