Politics for Christmas

Today for Christmas I went home for a late lunch. I am staying at Martha's for a few days while they are out in Mississippi. Mom invited a friend over, Festus. I don't think they are actually dating yet but they met online. He seems nice enough, but during the meal we began talking about politics. He's a black man from Nigeria, so he has more of an outsider's perspective, but it was a bit frustrating discussing things with him. He repeatedly emphasized the need to not rely on emotion but to remain objective and to evaluate the data for yourself. I agree with that caution but it seemed to be something he fell back on as an argument when I don't think I could have been any more objective.

We began talking about things that make America great and that led into Mom and I trying to convince him that there is truth to the idea that poor, black Americans have developed a culture of entitlement, blaming "the man" and the system for their problems. He stated that statistically more white people are supported by welfare than black people. I'm a bit hesitant to believe that, but I think the more telling statistic would be to compare the percentages of whites and black (and Asian and Hispanic) people in poverty who have relied on welfare for extended periods of time, particularly from generation to generation. In addition to this, we should compare levels of education - what percentage graduates from high school and college; median household income; and violent crime rates (probably ages 16-24 specifically).

I may not have any of those figures in hand, but I think (and I'm not alone in this belief) that there is a definite culture of laziness, envy, and bitterness among poor, mostly undereducated African-Americans. Of course there are happy exceptions, but as a group, sections of cities with high concentrations of poor people (ghettos) run rampant with crime (gangs and drugs) driven by low levels of education and a feeling of helplessness. They feel helpless because they think government isn't doing enough to help them. They feel entitled to live like rich, white Americans. But the objective reality is that there are numerous federal programs to help poor families in need, and many are particularly for African-Americans. These programs will help those who take the initiative to change the status quo and help themselves crawl out from under poverty.

Then we got talking about taxes, and while he agreed that overall Americans feel entitled to "the American dream" (without the work, usually, and spending way beyond their means using credit), it took me 10 minutes to get him to admit that it is equally unfair (that the 1% can live in luxury while so many poor, and now middle class, families struggle just to get by) that 50% of Americans do not pay income taxes. It's a bit more complex, but if we are simply talking about fairness, then EVERY American citizen should pay taxes of some kind in order to give back and maintain the freedoms and luxuries that they enjoy.

Now, as I've realized reading the article more closely, I see that very few people pay NO taxes. There are payroll taxes. And personally I feel that income tax doesn't make any sense as it discourages success, and I've heard it called unconstitutional a few times.

I love the idea of free, state healthcare for everyone, but right now there is no way we can afford to make that transition, regardless of how well the European model is. (Europe has its own problems)

There are tons of tax law loopholes for the 1% to exploit. Absolutely. Could they afford to pay more taxes? Yes. Many say they would be fine with higher taxes. But I don't think they SHOULD. Don't play it off as an emotional argument that it's only fair. What do they have to give for it to be fair? If you want to talk about what's fair, the rich are more than pulling their own weight. They are paying for over half the country.

Anyway, I was so upset when I produced an article right on my phone for him with the percentage number of Americans who don't pay income tax (51%) and he said something like not trusting everything you see / the source. I haven't been this angry since my last argument with Snickers.

I need to do more reading and research about taxes, but I did read this excellent article about Bill Cosby's 'Pound Cake' speech, where he said that African-Americans need to stop blaming white Americans for their problems and get rid of the mentality that they are owed a certain kind of life from the government. I definitely do not agree with many of the writer's points, but the first comment of the article should also be read. 'This is how we Lost to the White Man.'

I meant to elucidate my current beliefs on several issues including taxes, foreign policy, and energy, but this blog post has dragged on far too long already and I am too tired (on Christmas, no less) to continue.

Stagnation

I would like to think that it was a good decision to take this year off. I certainly wasn't ready to take auditions last year, right after I returned from Vienna. I have done some cool things this year, mainly working with my dad. My camera battery dies so quickly that I couldn't get a picture of the cabinets we just finished building. I took a few pictures with my phone.

But I honestly don't practice. And I hardly read. I started rereading Lord of the Rings again mainly out of laziness. I never finished Paterson or The Courage to Create. I haven't touched my puzzle in a month. I don't feel like I'm doing anything with my life.

Honestly, I'm jealous of my friends who are passionate about what they are doing. In particular, Eva is up in Boston working on a new, professional quality album. Speaking of her music, I love her new Christmas song. And Chris keeps himself so busy with all his composition and quartet work, he's got quite enough to do even since he's done with school.

All I want for Christmas is to start to live the best life I think I can live. The person I want myself to be is a pretty incredible person. I think I would be happy if I were satisfied with who I am. And the thought has occurred to me that maybe I haven't attracted a girlfriend because I'm not deserving. Not that I'm not a good person (something I debate) but that I'm not good enough. Or something.

It's also a bit strange to not meet anyone new this year. I definitely miss being around lots of people daily at school. I am so glad to have gotten to know everyone in IES Vienna and in Mayfield 18 the past year. I hope that we will stay friends for life. (And I have a much better idea what a true friend for life is, and how rare they are)

I'm scared, looking at the future, of moving somewhere new where I don't know anyone, because I think without the structure / atmosphere of regular classes it'll be harder than ever for me to make new friends. And at the same time I don't want to stay here, waiting for my friends to move away or otherwise just build their own lives.

Where will I find the special someone to build my own life with? And until she enters the picture, how can I be my own man, someone worth falling in love with? I can see enough reasons why people like me, but I don't really think anyone would love me.

German Marches

So my grandfather, who we call Papa, is suffering from Alzheimer's. Mom told me he used to love listening to German marches and military band music, so she thought it would be nice to find or make a CD to him for Christmas.

I knew nothing about German marches before today, but I must say, they are quite charming. Also, I finally listened to a good version of An der schönen blauen Donau in full, and I am really warming up to it. As long as it's not the same 3 minute clip repeated over and over again, ad nauseam it's a lovely piece. I didn't realize how long of a work it is. Along with Unter Donner und Blitz and Kaiser Walzer, I have come to a great appreciation of Johann Strauss II.

My favorite marches include: Unter dem Doppeladler, Yorckscher Marsch, Wien bleibt Wien, and the Radetzky March.

The Muppets

Oh my God, The Muppets was an amazing movie!
I went with Lindsey and Shelby, and we were the only people in the theater. It was so fun; I laughed so loudly.
The Pixar short was also excellent. I hope I can find it because I forgot the name of it, but it was Toy Story themed, with Buzz being left behind at a restaurant. Oh here is a clip, it's called "Small Fry."

I am so glad the Muppets are back. They are comedy gold. It was also a really well crafted and touching story, about finding yourself and remembering what is most important: the people you've surrounded ourselves with.

The old traditional family values endure. This movie brought back a lot of old feelings, and I would compare it to Toy Story 3, except that it is an even bigger comeback story. I'm a bit young, and I don't remember the show, but I grew up watching the movies and the Muppets have a special place in my heart.

I want to tell all my friends to go see it. Not only is it hilarious, but it speaks to the heart. It's an uplifting and inspiring vision of what the world could be. I teared up a bit a few times, and I will have Rainbow Connection on replay for a while. I feel like a better person for having seen this movie. It's that wonderful.

Dreams of Wien

Wow, this is my 100th blog post! I'm glad I've continued to blog, it really helps me focus my thoughts. And when I look back at all my posts, it helps me to remember that my life isn't so boring or unimportant.

So last night I had another dream where I thought I was in Vienna. I've had at least one before, recently. I'm not entirely sure my surroundings were actually some part of Wien, but during the dream I distinctly felt that I was back there. The only thing I remember about this dream was that I was in a bookstore and I found The Lord of the Rings auf Deutsch. Not surprisingly, I had fallen asleep to my LOTR audio book that Trey let me import.

As my birthday approaches I think back to what I did last year. Of course, I will make Rochelle's picture my profile picture again. My only disappointment was that I was a bit sick, and Westrey and Albert couldn't make it to dinner.

I do love Brentwood. Right now it's sunny and 39 degrees F. Strange, I just checked Wien's weather and it's about the same. I know we had a good deal of snow the last few weeks. And of course, almost everyone got stuck in airports around Europe because of the snow. I rather wish I had been stuck there with friends for another week, although it would have been a huge hassle.

I miss so much about Wien. I miss the snow falling as we strolled through Christkindlmärkte warming ourselves with hot mugs of Glühwein. I miss being able to walk all over the city, with the help of the U-Bahn. Very few cities in America have any sort of architecture to rival Europe. My mouth is watering just thinking about my daily Kebab box from Pascha, or the Donner kebabs from the Imbiss at Hietzing. Christmas decorations here (although quite extravagant in some neighborhoods) have nothing on the decorations in the inner districts. I miss the Kaffeehäuser; had I spent any more time there, I would have become not only a coffee enthusiast but probably a snob. The hundreds of pictures I took in all the museums I visited simply do not compare to the real experience. I especially miss being able to attend world class, life changing concerts every week, as well as the ability to see one of the most famous opera houses for about $9. I even miss hearing the Blue Danube Waltz as I walked through Karlsplatz everyday.

Well, I was going to post pictures of my latest culinary escapade, but after writing about Wien, I feel my heart would break if I sullied this post with pictures of meatloaf. Speaking of which, I am very hungry.

Aufweidersehen.

On the way to my birthday dinner at the Griechenbeisl

Liturgy of Music

Going to Church yesterday inspired me. My mom and I have started going to an Anglican Church nearby, and I really like the service. What I really like is the structure of the service. There are certain roles a Church service should play in your spiritual life, and I think it's nice to be methodical about it. Is there going to be the same feeling of jubilation that is found in a charismatic church? No, of course not. And I think an important part of finding the right church is personal preference. I don't deny the power of speaking in tongues, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me somewhat uncomfortable. Churches are different just as people are different. There are important central beliefs that I will argue for, but style is a matter of preference.

One of the things I look for in a church is focus on the Bible. Some preaching comes from the message the preacher has, supported with passages of scripture. I really like the readings of scripture in the Anglican service. An Old Testament, Psalm, New Testament, and Gospel passage is read each week. Other parts of the liturgy come from the traditions of the Christian Church, generally collected in The Book of Common Prayer. A Proclamation of Faith in the Nicene Creed and The Lord's Prayer are two very obvious examples.

Two other big parts of church is worship and giving thanks, collectively. Finally, the Church is supposed to be the hands and feet of Christ, carrying out God's will through service in the community and missions. I don't really know about the missions projects of this church and I've never gotten involved with missions before. And personally, I prefer traditional songs and hymns, with minimal music for worship. Rock bands just seem a bit out of place, though that's a personal opinion and not a judgment.

Anyway, I was inspired to use the order of service as a template for my everyday life. More specifically, as a way to approach practicing. It's a long service, but at this stage I really need to be thorough. I probably won't have this kind of time again in my life. I intend to write another post soon about all the different aspects of music one needs to cover.

Order of Service:
Opening Acclamation: Psalm reading and meditation
Songs of Praise: Sonata movement
The Collect of the Day: Bach Chorale reading (record alto part)
The Old Testament Lesson: Scales and Sevcik
Psalm Responsive Reading: Break - Study art, poetry
New Testament Lesson: Sibelius
The Gospel: Bach C Major Sonata
The Sermon: Orchestral excerpts
The Nicene Creed: Break - Rhythm exercises
The Prayers of the People: Scales
The Confession: Kreutzer
The Peace: Mozart Concerto
The Offertory: Break - Translate Bach Chorale
The Great Thanksgiving: Sibelius
Sanctus: Bach Chorale reading with recording (from the Collect)
The Lord's Prayer: Scales
The Breaking of the Bread: Bach Sonata or Partita
Communion Songs: Duets (with recorder)
The Blessing: Sonata movement / short piece
Recessional: Paganini Caprice no. 2
The Dismissal: Tchaikovsky violin concerto

As you can probably tell, many items in my 'service' were included for fun. Warming up with a sonata movement is much more exciting than just scales. I want to learn the Tchaikovsky violin concerto next, so I should start familiarizing myself with the music. I wanted to record the bass line with Martha's cello for the Bach Chorales, to have three voices, but I am so bad at the cello it's not worth taking the time. However, I'll work on reading soprano and alto clefs and some interval work by extension. I want to make practicing fun. Lindsey has pointed out that you learn better when you turn work into play.

Well, tea time is over, time to get back to practicing.

Giant Quiz 2 and Birthday List

I'm making another giant quiz for Facebook. I wasn't planning on including song lyrics, but I suppose it wouldn't be epic with only 50 movie quotes. I almost have 50 quotes already. Since I plan to wait until December to publish it as a note, I suppose I could put together a list of lyrics.

Also, here's my list that I compiled at the request of my family for gifts I would like for my birthday and Christmas.

Downfall (German DVD) - Dad

Goodbye Lenin! (German DVD) 

Andrei Rublev (Russian DVD)   

The Rules of the Game (French DVD)   

Der Freischütz (Opera DVD, starring Gottlob Frick) 

Die Zauberflöte (Opera DVD, starring Keenlyside) 

L'Elisir D'amore (Opera DVD, starring Villazon) 

Super Mario Galaxy (Wii game)

Zelda: Skyward Sword (Wii game) 

iTunes card 

Money for clothes / flying to graduate school auditions

Mom asked about it today and she bought the three opera DVDs I wanted, with the promise that I wouldn't watch them until my actual birthday. I had actually forgotten that my birthday was coming up so soon. It falls on a Sunday, so I think I'd like to try to put something together. I'm excited to take Kevin Lui out to Patterson House for his 21st birthday.

I am super excited for the opera DVDs. I got the L'Elisir D'amore version with Villazon / Netrebko because they taped a live performance at the Wiener Staatsoper, and the set and costumes are the same as the production I saw with Juan Diego Florez! Plus, I have Netrebko / Villazon in La Traviata (Salzburg Festival, 2005) which I really enjoy.

I discovered Gottlob Frick from this video of Der Freischütz.
I was almost swayed by Lucia Popp in the 1983 Munich production of Die Zauberflöte, but I really like the choreography, acting, and costumes of the Keenlyside version, which I think is adorable. Diana Damrau hitting a home run with the Queen of the Night aria doesn't hurt, either. (also, their diction is so good, one day I hope to listen / watch it without subtitles.)

Personally, I love the Ingmar Bergman version, even though it's in Swedish.

San Francisco Conservatory of Music

So I just applied to the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.

The application was a much bigger pain in the butt than the other two applications. I suppose that's to be expected from a bigger music school. I'm nervous about the entire thing, but I love the city and I figure having a third audition is good. Who knows if I'll be accepted into any of these schools, so one or two more would be even better, but that's not going to happen now.

I'm trying to figure out if I can defer, assuming I am accepted (a big assumption) until I find out if I can study back in Vienna again. Ben finally got back to me with some more info, and it looks like I'll have to do a live audition in June or September. Barbara already said she'd take me back, so it's more of a formality. Obviously I want it to go much better than my last audition for her. *shudders*

Because of SFCM, I now also have to learn the first movement of a Mozart Concerto. I picked no. 4 in D major. I'm not sure I really studied no. 5, actually. I need to start practicing again and talk to Professor Teal about some more lessons. I hope I haven't set myself up for failure, but I think I did need to push myself harder.

Brucker and Wagner

Wow, today was so long. I'm not even sure why it feels that way, since I have only done three significant things. Dad called and told me he rearranged work for tomorrow so that I wouldn't have to drive out there for just a few hours of work.

On a whim I decided to burn both Die Zauberflöte and Der Freischütz onto CDs which I can listen to in my car. I also burned Schubert's Winterreise and Schumann's Dichterliebe. I have a 6 CD player in my car, so I'll be decked out with German music for a while.

I also finally took the time to find my recording of Bruckner Symphony no. 9. I wish I could remember which orchestra performed it, but it was so amazing. The Musikverein seriously has some of the best acoustics in the world. The recording was fantastic, with no problems. I sat and closed my eyes and listened to the entire hour and 4 minute performance. I'm listening to it again as I write this.

I don't take as much time to just sit and listen to music as I would like. I certainly have gotten to know Don Giovanni much better just by listening to it in my car. But an hour (or 3, if it's an opera) is a long time to devote to music during a regular day. I'm lucky to have that luxury. I imagined I was back in the Musikverein, standing in the back. I am so glad I went to this concert (and recorded it)! I associate Bruckner with Vienna and my time abroad (not to mention Beethoven 3 and Mahler 3) also because I played Bruckner 4 on my iPod on my train rides through the Austrian country. Mahler, Bruckner, and Richard Strauss all wrote music which perfectly matches the majesty of the Alps.

It was a nearly divine listening experience, second only to hearing it live. The power of music is transformative. It's different even now, as I write this blog, simply because my mind is divided. But if you devote yourself to music, it will carry you to a different place. I had goosebumps. I relived a tiny bit of Austria.

I guess by comparison I wasted the middle of the day. I made pasta and watched The Race to Witch Mountain on tv. I developed a major headache and took a nap.

The only other thing I've done today was to look for another German opera to watch. I really want to buy the DVD version of Der Freischütz with Gottlob Frick, and on Amazon.com it was paired with Tristan und Isolde. So I started to watch it on YouTube. The entire opera is on YouTube so I probably won't buy it. I had to stop after the first act. It was just too much. I don't remember feeling as overwhelmed during our viewing of Das Rheingold, (a very short Wagner opera, to be sure) but Wagner doesn't give the listener any breaks. I was constantly thinking of the difference between German and Italian operas.

This Twain quote always comes to my mind when I think of Wagner:

I have witnessed and greatly enjoyed the first act of everything which Wagner created, but the effect on me has always been so powerful that one act was quite sufficient; whenever I have witnessed two acts I have gone away physically exhausted; and whenever I have ventured an entire opera the result has been the next thing to suicide.

I think the music is very beautiful, and the focus on the drama makes it more full bodied and convincing for me, from a literary standpoint. And I'm a big Romantic, of course. I love the epic scale of Wagner and the legends he refashioned. But today, I could only handle one act. It seems to me that Wagner is closer to a dramatic play in that the singing is Sprechstimme, spoken singing. It's not very melodic. And one aspect that I really missed was the ensemble singing I adore in Mozart. You just can't do that in Wagner's style, although I do recall something of the kind in Der Rosenkavalier (at least I know there is a trio near the end).

Speaking of Der Rosenkavalier, I originally bought it because I knew it was a famous opera by Richard Strauss. I was confused and thought it a bit cacophonous. But when I saw it performed in Vienna, the setting made everything work. It's not an opera you can just listen to, you have to see it acted out. The same goes for Wagner operas.

I will finish Tristan und Isolde soon, but it's too late now to finish, even if I had the mind to. I wish I had better speakers, too. Wearing headphones for more than an hour becomes uncomfortable. Well, time for reading before bed.

Imperative

Hush
Wait here
Think about what you've done - 
Are you satisfied?


Halt
Don't blink
Break yourself down - 
How much do you have to give?


Hide
Look inside
Decide what's worth saving -
Where's your heart?


Hurry
Live fully
Love what you do - 
Will you be happy at the end?


Hope
Don't worry
Help whoever you can -
Does your life matter?

The Love of a Dog is Faithfully Returned

A poem dedicated to my dog, Beau, a Bichon Frise.


I love to see the door swing open.
He pushes it with his head,
Or if it's closed, I hear
A worried snort
And a paw scratch.

Nails on hardwood and the jingle of tags
Announce him.
I turn to see him, head cocked,
Tail wagging in acknowledgement
Of my attention.

My mother tells me
He checks my bed
Each and every day - 
Standing on hind legs,
Searching for his boy.

Chasing plush toys down the hall,
It takes a second to start and stop,
Sliding as if on ice.
Crouched low, he pants and stares;
He runs to his bed when I move.

He turns round on his bed,
As every dog should.
Sleeping on his back,
He must have good dreams;
I swear there is a smile.

Vanderbilt Football

I went over to Martha's to help watch the kids and watch the Vandy - UT game on tv. We had thought about driving out to Knoxville but weren't feeling it. Since Annika (Martha's babysitter) was sick, Martha couldn't go to the Preds' game with me, and I couldn't find anyone in town to take with me. So we just decided to do dinner at her house and watch the football game. I was really hoping we could win this one. Apparently the record is now 1-28. It was close but only because of the sloppy play on both sides. UT's team is pretty awful, and no UT fan would disagree. But that just makes the loss worse. We had our chances and we blew them, in typical Vanderbilt football style.

Here's a little hoedown poem to vent my frustrations.

I love college football
I watch it on tv.
I'm proud that Vandy
Is part of the SEC.
I know that often
We have trouble winning games,
But losing to UT
Is always really fucking lame.

Addicted to Whose Line

I'm addicted to Whose Line. My cheeks hurt real bad. I've watched hours of videos. I really need to stop. It's kind of a problem.

In other news, I finished applying to both CU Boulder and Arizona State University! There goes $120, not to mention the cost of traveling to take my auditions. I'm hesitant to apply to San Fransisco Conservatory of Music.

I am very focused on poetry, when I'm not watching YouTube, but no new poems have been completed. I guess they have to come to me ready made.

I'm getting anxious to get back on Facebook. But the entire point of leaving was to get my life in order. I don't think I've made much improvement of late. I'm back to living a passive life, just without Facebook.

I guess I'm just a lazy bastard at heart.

Personal Statement

So I finally sat down today and filled out a grad school application to CU Boulder. Here's the personal statement I wrote. I hope it's appropriate, I wasn't quite sure how to go about it. I don't have any real work experience in my field, so I focused on my experiences performing at Blair and abroad in Vienna.

Personal Statement

     I have been fortune in my life to have had so many opportunities to immerse myself in music. From 2002 until 2009 I attended summer music festivals in Tennessee, North Carolina, Indiana, and Colorado. Each summer was an incredible learning experience working with outstanding musicians, and nothing has been as satisfying as the creation and performance of beautiful music.  

     I worked during the summer of 2010 in order to save money for my semester abroad that fall. Studying abroad in Vienna was life changing. Barbara Gorzynska, teacher at Prayner Konservatorium in Vienna, pushed me to excel and exemplified what it means to be a passionate artist. I immersed myself in the culture by attending many concerts and visiting as many museums as I could.  

     My first time attending a concert at the Konzerthaus proved to be the most influential concert of my life so far. Die Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen performed Beethoven Symphonies 5 and 6, as well as the Coriolan Overture. A friend and I were lucky enough to be able to sit behind the bass section, literally 10 feet away from the orchestra. Die Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen is well known for its interpretation of Beethoven, and we were blown away. I will always remember the looks of pure joy and excitement on the faces of the first stand violas. It was an amazing display of the highest level of artistry. My friend and I returned the next night to see them perform Beethoven Symphonies 3 and 4, along with the Overture to The Creatures of Prometheus.

     While I have the most experience in large ensembles and I have enjoyed playing in orchestras at all my summer festivals and in the Vanderbilt University Orchestra, I also love both chamber music and performing in opera pits. I have studied chamber music with Professor John Kochanowski, former member of the Concord String Quartet, as well as with Professors Amy Dorfman and Kathryn Plummer. In Vienna I was coached by Barbara Gorzynska, playing Navarra and first violin in Beethoven String Quartet, op. 18 / 1.  

     I have played in the Vanderbilt Opera performances of Kurt Weill's Street Scene and Mozart's Le nozza di Figaro. While at Aspen Summer Music Festival, I played in their production of Don Giovanni. I saw several world class operas at the Vienna Staatsoper, including a performance of Der Rosenkavalier by Richard Strauss on the last night of my time abroad. Upon my return to the Blair School of Music at Vanderbilt I took a course on opera with Dr. Joy Calico, Associate Professor of Musicology. I hope to continue to study and play opera in the future.

     I believe that during my time at the Blair School of Music and abroad I have grown as a musician, developing the tools necessary to hone my craft further. As an artist I want to continue to surround myself with creative, like minded individuals in a culture that values music and the fine arts. Ultimately I hope to play professionally in a major symphony orchestra or opera orchestra. To that end I wish to delve even deeper into music, learning all that I can so that I may engage with the music I perform on multiple levels. At the University of Colorado Boulder School of Music, I will continue my study of music, building on the solid foundation of my experiences at Vanderbilt University and in Vienna. 

Swan song

Serenade me, blue eyes -
Through your long locks
I see the wind,
The counterpoint
To your song.

Speak to me truly -
I can tell when you are lying,
Even when your lips are silent.
There is no hope for me
That I might be chosen.

I have tied myself to the mast;
Why should I not then hear
Your voice, uninhibited?
Your gift of song is beyond price,
For I am under no delusion of eternity.

So hold me but for a while
In your sweetest gaze,
And smile. I pray
You think fondly of me
When I am gone.

Soup at Lindsey's

I slept in again, since I didn't have work today. Martha called and asked if I could watch Grace and Haz for a few hours while she went to the dentist. I thought to text Lindsey about hanging out, but she went to the ER yesterday over a major ear infection and isn't feeling any better (although luckily the pain meds are working). I thought she might like some soup, so I threw my pot and cutting board in the car, with an onion and some flour. I arrived at Martha's at 12:45. Grace and Haz were playing outside and we ran around and played tag, they swung on the swingset, and we played baseball. They were good and after I put them to bed at 3, Martha came home and I drove over to Vanderbilt.

Before I parked at Trey's I got some beef consume, garlic, and some milk from Harris Teeter. I wasn't sure if the girls cooked any and had cutting knives, so I had diced the onion at Martha's. My knife work continues to improve, I'm happy to say.

Luckily Emma answered her phone and swiped me up to Lindsey's floor, and I started to put the soup together. I made the onion soup that I made in Vienna. Lindsey woke up and we played Bananagrams. She hadn't been sleeping well the past few days and obviously felt pretty miserable, but I think she appreciated the company. She didn't eat too much soup but she said she liked it, and I know she's a picky eater.

She goes back to the doctor tomorrow morning, so I hope she starts to feel better.

No new poetry today. Trey read the unfinished poem I posted a few days ago, when I saw him after the opera (Cosi fan tutte). He picked up on my favorite lines but didn't seem enthusiastic about the rest of it. I know I have to be careful not to force things together. It just makes it sound kitsch or contrived. Yet I have come up with several fantastic lines / couplets. Real gems, but I have yet to place them in a suitable setting. I'm still not sure if I want to scrap half of the poem or just accept it as is. I didn't feel like it was contrived, although not every line is genius.

I'm a bit frustrated because I really thought I could write 5 quality poems in 2 months. I feel so close. This is my 31st blog post in the same time, however, so I have something to show for my time of self-reflection. But I really want to have something polished to present to people who might ask what I've been up to the past 2 months without Facebook. I will not return to Facebook until I have 5 great poems.

"Whose Line Hoedown" poems

I am beginning to run out of Whose Line is it Anyway? videos to watch, having stayed up until 6 am this morning. I thought it'd be fun to try my hand at some short, simple, improvisatory hoedowns. I tried to write them out as quickly as possible, but they weren't really instantaneously composed.

I was hoping they would turn out to be humorous, but once I edited my thoughts to make some sort of sense, they have turned out to be just a bit ridiculous. I have always thought of improv as a great way to shake off your inhibitions. Anyway, here are my first four. Hope they are silly enough to be entertaining.

If you're not familiar with the format, here's a good example of a Whose Line? hoedown.

Beau (my Bichon Frise)
I really love my puppy
I don't know what I'd do
If he were to run away,
I'd cry a lot - boo hoo!
He may be the best friend
That I've ever known,
Greeting me with kisses
Whenever I come home.


Cooking
I have lots of fun
Cooking in the kitchen,
I make tons of yummy food
When my stomach's bitchin'.
It helps me to relax
Since cooking is a breeze.
Though most of the time
I only eat mac and cheese.


Zombies
I saw on tv one day
A horrible news story.
The dead were eating brains,
It was so very gory.
The games I played helped me
To survive the dead,
I planted flowers by my door
That shot them in the head.


Donkey
One time I saw some donkeys,
They were so nice to see,
Standing by the fence
Waiting to greet me.
They looked so sweet
I didn't see any harm
In petting them, but
Ouch! One bit my arm!

Poem to be completed

The way the tear drops,
Rolling down my cheek
To hang for a moment
Off my chin,
It melts a path - 
A crescent
Through my face - 
And falls to extinguish
Soul's delight.


A salty little bomb
Explodes - a catalyst
For the dead seed
To sprout in my chest.
Attending to my plot of earth,
Silent prayers of wonder
Ascend to the one who
Understands the mystery
Of fresh blossoms / blooms.


The shallow roots of feet
Find new strength
Walking over foreign land(s),
Yet Time blows (over all)
And flowers wither before
That scorching wind.
Step outside yourself to see
The Earth swallow you up - 
The wind leaves no legacies.



4th and last section to be completed soon.

New Music

Maybe once a year I go through a phase where I seek out new music. I used to play the 'similar artists' game on Amazon.com and find tons of new (at least to me) bands through a few simple searches starting with a band I really liked already. Today's exploration has been limited to the past hour or two, but I felt that I found some cool 'new' stuff. If I had disposable income I would buy some albums.

On a whim I began reading old comic strips of Questionable Content, whose characters bond over (mainly) indie music. Over the years the comic has developed into it's own parallel universe, but the creator still works current music into the comic. In general I am way too mainstream to know the best indie bands. I really like the genre, and have done a little research, but I've never been up to date in the music scene. I follow this XKCD philosophy: the five year lag. So of course I listen to big bands like Of Montreal, The Flaming Lips, Ok Go, and Andrew Bird; all poster boys for indie music. In an old strip of QC there is mention of Deerhoof, who I had never heard of before.

I really like their music, it's quirky and unpredictable. The singer reminded me of Pizzicato Five, who I had briefly discovered years ago, mainly by the virtue of the fact that they are both Japanese. I went back and listened to more Pizzicato Five and although I liked it, I didn't think it was particularly creative. Maybe their songs are just a bit repetitive. But I like their style. [aside: indie music videos are always really cool. and a bit weird. case in point: Grizzly Bear]

I guess I was just thinking about other bands I had found like Pizzicato Five that I liked but never purchased any of their albums. I almost bought Fleet Foxes album on multiple occasions. I really like Grizzly Bear's vocal style. It's hypnotic. I feel like it's a bit of a throwback to the drug influenced, psychedelic songs of the 60s.

While I love the trend of using 'exotic' instruments I don't always agree with today's songwriting. In general I think the messages bands send through their music are superficial and uninspired. There's a lot of cool music out there today, but if I want to reliably find music that speaks to me I look back to songwriters like Bob Dylan and Eric Clapton. It doesn't have to be spelled out like an essay, but the nonsensical lyrics of a lot of the contemporary music I listen to (which primarily falls under 'indie') only sound nice. I don't listen to any pop music like Justin Bieber, Lady Gaga, Ke$ha, or Rihanna, but no one is moved by the actual lyrics. This kind of music only speaks on a level of entertainment.

It's impossible to say with any finality that some music is good and other music is horrible. Bad music exists, of course, no one would deny, but it's all relative and in the end it's purely subjective. It's not all about the theory, as I-V-vi-IV songs show us. Extended harmonies and unusual instrument combinations aren't required for creativity. Nothing is inherently wrong with repetition; indeed it's a useful tool for a cohesive song, hence why choruses are standard unifying sections in songs.

It all comes back to some broad and difficult questions: What is Music? For that matter, What is Art? And any true artist will have grappled with man's ultimate question: What is Life, and Why am I here?

Good music is more than pure entertainment. I don't deny being entertained by Tik Tok and Bringing Sexy Back. But I love when the radio is on at work and my dad points out a good song. Sure, not all old songs are great or inspired, yet it's true that "they don't make them like they used to."

I fully believe in the power of the arts and I want to devote my life to music. At the same time, I can't help but wonder if Art has lost a lot of it's power to inspire change simply because no one has the patience to seek out Art with meaning among the ratings / money driven music scene of a consumerist world. To be fair, so called 'high art' has gone off the deep end; it's no wonder the average person is turned off by such elitism.

Huntsville Audition

Yesterday, I drove down to Huntsville to take the audition for the orchestra there. I haven't taken any other auditions, which I now regret, but as my first real audition I was happy. I had a mental lapse in the middle of my solo piece (Sibelius, first movement) and as I wondered how much longer I needed to play, things got a little hairy. The only excerpt I was asked to play was Don Juan, which went decently well. The sight reading was easy but I messed up a little rhythm. I know I can do better, but because my track record for auditions is rather embarrassing, I was worried I would choke. It was a good and worthwhile experience, and although we had to wait for everyone to finish before the judges decided there would be no 2nd round, I had fun.

Esther also was there for the audition and I was glad to catch up with her. There were 4 seats open and she won one of them. I do wish I had gotten a job, but I am mainly just proud that I at least seriously began to practice. There wouldn't have been too much of a commitment and I would have loved to work with Esther, but it just wasn't meant to be. If I had played as well in the actual audition as I did out in the waiting room, I feel that I could have won a seat. I took a break from practicing today (after work I basically watched tv and Whose Line is it Anyway? videos on YouTube) but I fully intend to use the past week's hard work as a springboard to achieve greater things in music.

Career?

A thought came to me recently about what I ultimately want to do with my life. For a long time orchestral work has been my goal. But it's sort of been 'the norm.' I absolutely love playing in orchestra, so I think I could be very happy if I find a good job in a place that I like. But I have never really been super passionate and focused about growing up and becoming an orchestral violinist. My heart is really in quartet music. If I could have any dream job it would be as a 2nd violinist in a tight knit group. Unfortunately, you can't make a living as a quartet unless you are the very best. Only a handful of successful quartets tour around the country and record and do well for themselves. And the likelihood of finding 3 other musicians that I love to work with who would want to stay together as a professional group is small.

A new thought I had was opera work. I really love playing in orchestra pits and I love listening to opera. I'm not sure if opera orchestras are full time but I imagine that they are. Maybe I could get by with gigs on the side. I'm definitely going to look into it. I only know a handful of operas right now but I should be able to look up others and read through violin parts. I wonder who I could talk to to find out more about that particular career option.

Today I put in about 3 hours practicing. I feel much more confidant but I know I have a lot of work to do to make everything consistently solid without hesitation. I want to play through my excerpts and Sibelius for people tomorrow but I'm not sure if anyone is available.

Scales and Sevcik have worked wonders for my intonation. There is so much to work on, but I think I have made good progress the past few days. I started adding arpeggios and minor scales to my 'warm up' hour. I need to rotate in 3rds, 6ths, and octaves. I've done some scales on one string (particularly useful on the G and E strings) and I have really good shifting exercises that I need to keep working on.

Teal reminded me of some very good bow exercises that Mrs. Heard had taught me forever ago. I hardly ever work on my bow arm technique and it's limiting my musicality. I need to finish taping up my copy of Principles of Violin Playing and Teaching, by Galamian, which was beat up in the attic (by a circular saw. long story). I am a very left brained, technique focused player, and my philosophy has always been to focus on the technique and master your instrument so that you can fully serve whatever musical ideas you have or are asked of you. My Sibelius first movement is going well again so that I should now find my inspiration for playing that piece again. The musical ideas and phrases I come up with will partially dictate how I plan my bow and fingers in order to effectively convey my creative thoughts through the music.

I am really nervous for this audition down in Huntsville, but am very pleased with my practice already. I hope to continue to practice more everyday. I have lots of other plans and designs for my year off, but music has to be my top priority. I am still struggling with wasting a lot of time but I think I am beginning to turn my life around at last. The surge in creative activity this week has been very encouraging, and I hope to finish 3 more poems soon. Once I complete at least 1 graduate school application I will probably return to Facebook. I didn't think about it at all for several weeks but lately I have felt like I'm in self-imposed exile. But until I get my life in order it will only be a distraction.

An Open G Sounds

An open G sounds like midnight -
That time of day the soul starts living.
Man's choices, between whatever forgiving
God he follows and his own light,
Sound true. The dark alights
On weary men, up late, still driving
Away from the world with which they're striving;
Salvation is sought in lonely flight.
The depth of night conveyed through tone - 
It reminds men of the simple pleasure
Found while looking up in expectation
At winking stars, feeling the exhalation
Of the night - In any measure
That gentle note stands alone.

A Spark

Wow, I am so glad that I got back up to practice tonight. I didn't get much sleep last night and overslept my alarm. Besides being 40 minutes late it was a good day of work and we finished the fence completely. I was tired and after dinner took a nap, intending to wake up and babysit for a few hours. Luckily Martha didn't need me after all, so I slept until 9. I am proud of myself for making myself get up and practice.

After about an hour of Sevcik exercises, I felt great. I played the last two pages of Sibelius but didn't spend a lot of time on it. I think I've found what fingerings I want to do at the end, which octaves to play normally and which to play fingered octaves. It's super hard to play in tune consistently but I felt encouraged.

Then I read through most of my excerpts for the Huntsville audition. I could play so in tune! Don Juan and Bartok (which I didn't get to tonight) need special attention but the others are coming along nicely and I will be pleased if I play them that well on Sunday.

Mom said she'd babysit for me on Saturday so that I can practice and get sleep, thank God.

I am hoping that if I continue practicing (and writing) that I can establish a positive reinforcement loop. The highs that I felt yesterday after I wrote a poem and today after practicing so well should encourage me to make practicing and writing a habit. Blogging is already becoming a habit, I think.

I just came across this idea of thinking processes (theory of constraints) and I will look into it more, as it seems exactly the methodology that I intend to employ in this period of self-improvement.

Breakthrough!

Not only did I practice for 2 solid hours today (scales are magic) but I finally wrote a poem I am happy with!

Inspiration hit and I am so elated that I have created something. I have been working on releasing my creativity, both in music and in poetry, but not directly for the past week or so. What I mean is that I listened to music and read Steinbeck and The Courage to Create (which I need to finish) and today I read a few of The Sonnets to Orpheus, by Rainer Maria Rilke and I have listened to Rob Inglis narrate The Lord of the Rings the past few days. And I have written very consistently all October. But I hadn't sat down and tried to write poetry or practiced.

I feel joy, like life is beating in my heart again. This poem really springs out of all my musings and frustrations during this time of serious reflection.

The old self is dying
Every moment.
Let us grapple with ourselves
And wrestle in intimate places -
And so consecrate our bodies,
Setting each bone in its right place,
Conforming to the character
Of our will.

Breaking free of all chains
We dare to twist ourselves
Into something immaculate
And strive to meet the
Immortality of the stars.
Death is transcendence
To be sought daily
With open arms.

Dreams

I don't usually remember my dreams for more than a few minutes after I wake, but tonight I had the most realistic, if not transparent, dream in my life. A lot of my dreams involve me being chased by something. Not this one. Mom asks my friends to play some sort of chamber music etude, much to my chagrin. Oddly, only Jim was playing his actual instrument (viola) and I don't know why he was in my dream at all, since I dislike him so much. Cici played the harp and Dean played bass.

Cici and I tried to turn off my computer speakers, drank absinthe, and went for a drive. Before we got anywhere we saw some friends behind us, so we turned around. We were on a golf course and we greeted a bunch of my friends, although it was a mix of my real friends and they don't all know each other. For example, it was great to see Alicia, and though they were at Vanderbilt together I don't think Cici knew her.

I had another, shorter dream that I've mostly forgotten. All I recall is that I was dancing, running, and singing around the pews in a big church, along with some other people, dressed in white robes. I thought about trying to write down the song in my head, but I never quite get it (dictation) right.

Hopefully vivid dreams are a good sign of a renewed creative life. I didn't write any poems last night but I feel poetic today.

Brief reflections

Today I had a lesson for the first time in about two weeks. The first movement of Sibelius was okay, but barely pulled itself together at the last minute. I'm still trying to figure out where the passion went. I felt some spark when I performed in Trey's recital. The exhilaration was mostly overshadowed by my feelings of disappointment and shame when I screwed up the sextuplets. But it was the most alive I've felt in a long time. There's just something incredible about performing.

Professor Teal had really good suggestions, although I know that if I had brought the Sibelius in in top shape, we could have really gotten into the music more. He complimented my technique and planning, but said it came off sounding more like an etude; very careful and precise but not musical. Even though I have played the piece for so long and know it well, since I'm bringing it back so slowly I'm in the stage of careful preparation again. I tend to tackle each piece I play focusing first on simply what I need to do to play the right notes in tune. Then I address the music. I need to change my approach to learning new music so that I incorporate my musical ideas into my practice strategies. It's like I've planned for a vacation and packed everything I think I'll need before deciding where I want to go.

Trey introduced me to Calypso Cafe today for lunch. It was very good, and I wish I had known about it before. We talked a bit about what we need to do for graduate auditions / applications and he told me about his plans for his senior thesis. I really should pick a piece of music and learn everything I can about it. I want to go back over my notes from my class on Mahler. I also need to organize my recordings from my semester abroad. I know I have at least a few lectures from Solvik's class (Mahler and turn of the century Vienna).

Maybe I'll sit down and analyze some Schubert. Winterreise, most likely, although his Octet is special to me as well. Reading about opera is very rewarding and interesting. Obviously having a narrative gives it a different dimension that is concrete and can be analyzed more definitively. Mozart's Mason principles come through in Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute), for example. That opera and Don Giovanni are my favorites. I have the full score to Don Giovanni, too. Or possibly if I thoroughly analyzed a Prokofiev piece, Trey might come around to liking his music more. Oh well, this is all just more talk until I do it.

I babysat for the rest of the day. My phone's battery is almost dead so I can't play Words With Friends right now. I'm really glad Lindsey and Lucy play, it's a lot of fun. I haven't done much besides work on the puzzle and listen to LOTR. For the rest of the night, until Martha comes back, I hope to write some worthwhile poetry.

After Concert Drinks

I drove up to see the Vandy orchestra concert tonight, having arranged to meet Lucy for drinks afterward. I wasn't sure if the winds were first, so I arrived right at 8. The concert winds were okay. The Konzertmusik for piano and chamber ensemble by Hindemith was interesting. Not too inspiring, though I suppose most of the notes were correct. I'm not a fan of watching Verrier conduct, it's so bland I couldn't see any nuance or musical creativity at all.

The orchestra was quite good, I think. It was a kind of pops concert, with a nice J. Strauss II waltz, an overture by John Williams, and Bernstein's West Side Story (suite?). I'm not a big fan of Strauss waltzes but imagining Vienna really made me appreciate it a lot more. I think as a genre the waltz is just dated and isn't taken seriously by classical musicians most of the time. But as I imagined it being played at a ball or a concert in Vienna 100 years ago, it went from quaint and outdated to charming and lovely.

I sat with Lucy for part of the winds, and then moved to sit by Susan for the orchestra half of the concert. We went backstage to find Chris and Lucy, although Susan disappeared somewhere. I talked with Chris a bit about the concert until we walked to the lobby and I found Lucy. Lucy and I decided to walk to Jackson's for a drink, since we were too poor to go to Patterson House.

It was really fun hanging out with Lucy. She saw that I was playing Words with Friends with Lindsey and said we will have to play. We talked about drinks and the new music history curriculum and schools and German audio books and Chris and Susan as a couple. I will miss her very much when we go our separate ways.

Monet

While at Barnes and Noble a few days ago I found a puzzle of Monet's  The Japanese Footbridge, 1899. I hope it will help keep me busy and away from the tv. It's 1000 pieces. I started putting it together last night while listening to Rob Inglis' reading of Lord of the Rings.



What have I gotten myself into?

Also, I finally steamed some rice for a snack with kimchi. I'm starting to doubt that I can finish such a large jar of kimchi, but it was the smallest size in the Korean store. Now I need to find a recipe for marinading Bulgogi.



It's nice having a day off. Dad and I set 5 more fence posts in concrete yesterday, and I am so sore. I went up to watch Grace and Hazard so that Brian could run to the store and the bank. Grace can swing all by herself now, and she is good at baseball. I love seeing the leaves change, and when I have another free day I hope to take a hike somewhere, maybe around the Natchez Trace.

Patterson House x2

This weekend was wonderful! Full of good friends and alcohol. Last night after Trey's senior recital, which was packed and a huge success, Trey, Lindsey, and I went to Patterson House. They laughed at me when I said I had just been there the night before. I guess my role as the studio / mayfield alkie still applies, haha. Just as a joke, of course. I'm not worried until it becomes a necessary coping mechanism that I can't live without. Good drinks are too expensive. I can be a miserable sober person, as evidenced by the past week.

On Saturday I helped mom set up her table at her friend's neighborhood garage sale she was invited to take part in. We woke up at 5:30 and left by 6 in the morning. I would have been miserable in the cold but I was allowed to sit inside and watch tv with the dogs. I know I watched Ocean's 13. I took a nap when we got home around 2. I woke up and got to the Vandy homecoming game vs. Army. I met Jeff there right at 7, and Kristin, Brett, and Nathan were there, too. It was pretty fun actually winning a game. We left at the end of the 3rd quarter and apparently missed a lot more action. We went to Patterson House and had a great time. I can't remember the drink I had because I asked for a recommendation. It was okay. The Black and White I tried was delicious. My favorite two drinks are still the Monkey Gland and Star 81.

I walked back to Vandy-Barnard with Jeff where we hung out with Kristin and her friends for a few hours. We played Circle of Death, which was fun but slow as everyone was distracted and talking to each other. I couldn't believe that so many people could fit in such a small single.

A fun text I got was from Chris, saying he had met Charlotte Kies up at IU. The music world is so small. I waited a while to sober up and then jogged across campus back to my car at Trey's.

Trey's senior recital went really well. Except my sextuplets. I feel really bad that I couldn't make it work. I let Trey down, and I was not happy with myself. Also, Justin's cello slipped once or twice, so Trey wants to get us together again soon to record it a second time. In the back Justin and I were sullen, but Justin more than redeemed himself when he played Trey's piece for Cello and Percussion. There wasn't anything he could have done about his cello slipping during Soupir.

One little thing that I'm proud of is that I successfully swatted a fly in midair. It ricocheted off the wall and Trey moved it to the floor and stepped on it. I was so pleased that he and Lindsey got my literary joke, "So it goes."

After the recital reception was finished, Lindsey and I helped Trey bring the extra food back to his place. Trey got his family to bring the LOTR audio book CDs! (I'm downloading them right now. The first book alone has 16 CDs) I met his family briefly and they seemed wonderful. His father in particular is a funny man and it's obvious Trey inherited his sense of humor from him. He asked Lindsey and me if we liked Honeydew (to take home) and when Trey's grandmother answered, "I love honeydew!" he said, "Not YOU!" We all died laughing.

I drove us to Patterson House and we sat at the bar. We tried to apply chordal properties to the drinks we got. We are such nerds. The Seasonal Sidecar was pretty good. Like I said above, the Star 81 and Monkey Gland are my top drinks there. I'm going to have to cut out drinks except maybe a social beer or two because they are way too expensive for me. Lindsey and I split Trey's tab between us (we also had a pizza and donut holes) so it was a bit more expensive than usual. But I thought we should treat him after he worked so hard on his senior recital.

After a hard, full day of work, mom brought home Steak and Shake for dinner and I'm playing Words with Friends with Lindsey. It's been a really amazing weekend. I'm still unsure of myself, I'm still wondering what I'm going to do with my life, and I'm still lonely sometimes, but although I know I'm not the funniest, smartest, or most talented guy, my life is worth living and I have and continue to positively affect the lives of my friends.

Doubt

I just want to be happy. I chide myself when I'm sad because I know how good my life is.

I wonder if I'm retarded. Slow, dull, boring, apathetic, simple. Maybe I had more permanent brain damage than I thought. I know that I have my flaws and I'm earnestly trying to address them. I think people tend to forget that I exist. People will confide in me because I am a great listener and very supportive. But sometimes I doubt people will miss me when I'm gone. My family will, of course. But what about my friends who aren't obligated by blood? I suppose when I'm dead I'll finally stop caring about what people think of me.

How many people have noticed my absence on Facebook? Do any of them care? Maybe if people just responded to my messages. Or invited me to something once in a while. Asked me how I'm doing and meant it. Just gave a damn. It'd feel wonderful if anyone read this blog and let me know they enjoyed something about it by leaving a comment.

I know I'm being dramatic. I am blessed to have amazing friends. This feeling of disappointment, anger, and confusion is beating me, though. I don't emote very strongly, but it's always the sadness of feeling isolated that is the strongest. I feel like I've given to people and not gotten much back.

Disappointment

Today was rough. I should mention that climbing on a roof in order to pull off old shutters to be cleaned is not my idea of a good time. But today was just disappointing overall. Because work ended very early I arrived at Blair around 1:30. I sat out on the patio and read some more of The Courage to Create. I thought about making that my 'Place,' but it's far from home and it's getting cold out. Still, I felt more comfortable there than anywhere else at Blair. I feel like an intruder, that the building doesn't belong to me anymore. I hardly recognize people anymore.

I practiced about an hour and a half, which was the most I've played my violin for a week. Then I tried to write some poetry but ended up just wandering around the building feeling ill at ease until I found Chris and his dad drove us to Starbucks. We hung out in the comp. lab until Susan came by and we went to dinner. We wanted to go to Korea House but it was too busy and I knew it would take too long anyway. Buffalo Wild Wings was a great choice, though. Susan dropped us off at Blair just in time for our dress rehearsal for Trey's recital. The run through went okay. We fixed a few minor details but everything seemed to gel. Except for my sextuplets that play against sixteenth notes. I was upset that I couldn't get them to click with the rest of the music, but at least we held together.

I hung out with Chris for the rest of the night. We went up to see Susan practice and she wanted me to sight read the Debussy violin sonata with her. I forget who she is accompanying. It's a beautiful piece but it was hard to read off the score and my counting was horrible. Then she asked me to play grad school stuff. I shouldn't have indulged them. It was horrid. Not just the first 2 pages of Sibelius, but Don Juan was atrocious. It was the worst I've ever played for someone, I think.

Susan kept practicing for a while and I felt what it truly means to be a third wheel. I'm happy for them, and they are a great couple, but I didn't really know what to think. I know I have people who care about me. But it's a bummer not having someone special.

And perhaps even more frustrating, I haven't made any progress on my poetry at all. Today just sucked the life out of me. I saw my life and everything about it screamed failure. You're nobody 'till somebody loves you.

Into the Wild, part 2

Work today was canceled due to rain, so I slept in, like I always do. I'm such a lazy bastard. After a shower around noon I left the house to make a deposit at the bank. I bought dinner for my mom's birthday (Korean food, naturally) and my sister paid me back. I don't have much money left in the bank right now so I really need to stop all spending. Unfortunately I need gas soon.
I went to Barnes and Noble to finish reading Into the Wild, by Krakauer. It's a pretty amazing tale, but the more I read about McCandless' relationships with his family, the less romantic his journey seemed to me. He was very selfish and arrogant, however nice he was to the few friends he made across the country. I understand the love of exploring nature alone. I spent several days alone hiking the Austrian Alps without a jacket and sometimes without water. It wasn't 'the wild' because I never intended to sleep out-of-doors and at the end of the day I could eat in comfort at a local restaurant and sleep in my hostel bed. But I know a little of the joy of hiking.
I would love to go hiking for a week or two, and I'm jealous of McCandless' ability to just get up and go. He followed his dream. He wanted to truly live, and he chose to live on the outskirts rather than live a life he viewed as sterile and fake. He didn't get very far off the beaten trail in Alaska, but he isolated himself and managed to live off the land for over 100 days. Here are two passages McCandless wrote / underlined in his journal.
"I am reborn. This is my dawn. Real life has just begun. Deliberate Living: Conscious attention to the basics of life, and a constant attention to your immediate environment and its concerns, example -> A job, a task, a book; anything requiring efficient concentration (Circumstance has no value. It is how one relates to a situation that has value. All true meaning resides in the personal relationship to a phenomenon, what it means to you).
The Great Holiness of FOOD, the Vital Heat. Positivism, the Insurpassable Joy of the Life Aesthetic.
Absolute Truth and Honesty. Reality. Independence. Finality - Stability - Consistency."
(From Tolstoy's Family Happiness)
"He was right in saying that the only certain happiness in life is to live for others....
I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor - such is my idea of happiness. And then, on top of all that, you for a mate, and children, perhaps - what more can the heart of a man desire?"
Before he died McCandless wrote a note: I HAVE HAD A HAPPY LIFE AND THANK THE LORD. GOODBYE AND MAY GOD BLESS ALL!
If he had finally realized that a happy life is one spent living for others, than to die in the Alaskan wilderness (barely qualifying as wilderness to Alaskans) alone is a tragic waste of life, especially given his background and loving family who he shunned for his last 2-3 years. I think everyone would benefit from going off by themselves for a while to discover who they are. Getting lost in the majesty, grandeur, and beauty of nature is important for a healthy spiritual life. Yet recognizing the harshness and danger in nature helps us to keep our small lives in perspective, humbling us.
The rest of my time in the bookstore was spent in the gardening section. I've been dreaming of growing my own kitchen garden. The nature section wasn't the place to look, although that's where I found Krakauer's book. Practical, how-to advice is all in the gardening section. However, I am low on disposable income, and likely will not be here next year, so I can't start my gardening days here, no matter how much I would like to. I will elaborate on my back to nature, get off the grid, simple lifestyle plans later. Our furnace apparently isn't working, which makes me want to crawl back in bed. I'm going to try to practice instead.

Excerpt

Here is an excerpt from Steinbeck's novel The Winter of Our Discontent. I now have 9 full pages typed out. There are many sentences I already know I will cut, but I typed them all out and I can block them out with a line in pen. Obviously I could have simply copied all the pages from the book directly, but that would waste more paper and besides, taking the time to type things out helps me remember them.

The more time and effort you put into something, the more you get out of them. It's an illusion that efficiency is all that matters. "There is more to life than increasing its speed." ~ Gandhi.

If I can somehow condense this novel into under 10 pages, who knows, maybe if I push myself I CAN memorize all of it.

"I had thought I could put a process in motion and control it at every turn - even stop it when I wanted to. And now the frightening conviction grew in me that such a process may become a thing in itself, a person almost, having its own ends and meands and quite independent of its creator. And another troublesome thought came in. Did I really start it, or did I simply not resist it? I may have been the mover, but was I not also the moved? Once on the long street, there seemed to be no crossroads, no forked paths, no choice.

The choice was in the first evaluation. What are morals? Are they simply words? Was it honorable to assess my father's weakness, which was a generous mind and the ill-founded dream that other men were equally generous? No, it was simply good business to dig the pit for him. He fell into it himself. No one pushed him. Was it immoral to strip him when he was down? Apparently not.

Now a slow, deliberate encirclement was moving on New Baytown, and it was set in motion by honorable men. If it succeeded, they would be thought not crooked but clever. And if a factor they had overlooked moved in, would that be immoral or dishonorable? I think that would depend on whether or not it was successful. To most of the world success is never bad. I remember how, when Hitler moved unchecked and triumphant, many honorable men sought and found virtues in him. And Mussolini made the trains run on time, and Vichy collaborated for the good of France, and whatever else Stalin was, he was strong. Strength and success - they are above morality, above criticism. It seems, then, that it is not what you do, but how you do it and what you call it. Is there a check in men, deep in them, that stops or punishes? There doesn't seem to be. The only punishment is for failure. In effect no crime is committed unless a criminal is caught. In the move designed for New Baytown some men had to get hurt, some even destroyed, but this in no way deterred the movement."

You Are Jeff

So today I slept in. For no discernible reason I stayed up late last night. But at least I didn't have to work, and Dad doesn't get back until tomorrow, so no work until Wednesday. I decided to watch Ocean's Eleven while I ate soup for lunch, and Mom sat and watched it with me. I don't know the last time we watched a movie together, but as long as she doesn't ask too many questions (I get annoyed when people ask what's going to happen) movies are a good way that we bond. I'm also glad that we found a church that we both like. Hopefully this year we can rebuild our relationship.

Right as the movie ended I realized that I had made plans to meet Lucy after she was done with orchestra at 5, so I ran out the door. I was 15 minutes late, and Chris called and joined us for coffee and donuts at Dunkin' Donuts. It was really great to see her and talk. She's someone I always feel comfortable confiding in. Unfortunately she had to leave to go to McTyeire dinner. I dropped her off and Chris and I went to get food at Wendy's before our Soupir rehearsal.

Rehearsal was good as usual. I think we are beyond the basics now and feel comfortable enough to listen to each other and feel the music. Trey decided to leave us by ourselves in the hope that we'd figure out the piece by ourselves.

After rehearsal I had texted Lindsey but never heard back from her. But Trey asked how rehearsal was and then asked if I was busy tonight. I had just left but when he suggested Jackson's or Fido's I turned around. I tried to work on my poetry until he showed up but didn't get much done. Kaiser Wilhelm also came, which was nice.

Trey asked if I had heard of poet Richard Siken, who I was not familiar with, and we went back to his place and he found this amazing poem called You Are Jeff. I don't even know what to say. Poetry is hard for me to describe or analyze but I know when something hits me, when it moves me with it's beauty or power, or if it's raw or refined.

How should one evaluate a poem? Does it have to make any sort of sense? A poem has to be about something, right? But not in the same way as a book is about something - the plot or the information.

From P. B. Shelley's A Defence of Poetry:

Poetry, in a general sense, may be defined to be "the expression of the Imagination": and poetry is connate with the origin of man. Man is an instrument over which a series of external and internal impressions are driven, like the alternations of an ever-changing wind over an Aeolian lyre, which move it by their motion to ever-changing melody. But there is a principle within the human being, and perhaps within all sentient beings, which acts otherwise than in the lyre, and produces not melody alone, but harmony, by an internal adjustment of the sounds or motions thus excited to the impressions which excite them.

Man in society, with all his passions and his pleasures, next becomes the object of the passions and pleasures of man; and additional class of emotions produces an augmented treasure of expressions; and language, gesture and the imitative arts, become at once the representation and the medium, the pencil and the picture, the chisel and the statue, the chord and the harmony.

Their [poets] language is vitally metaphorical; that is, it marks the before unapprehended relations of things, and perpetuates their apprehension, until the words which represent them, become through time signs for portions or classes of thoughts instead of pictures of integral thoughts; and then if no new poets should arise to create afresh the associations which have been thus disorganized, language will be dead to all the nobler purposes of human intercourse.

In the infancy of society every author is necessarily a poet, because language itself is poetry; and to be a poet is to apprehend the true and the beautiful, in a word the good which exists in the relation, subsisting, first between existence and perception, and secondly between perception and expression.

Sounds as well as thoughts have relations, both between each other and towards that which they represent, and a perception of the order of those relations has always been found connected with a perception of the order of the relations of thoughts.

A Poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth. There is this difference between a story and a poem, that a story is a catalogue of detached facts, which have no other bond of connexion than time, place, circumstance, cause and effect; the other is the creation of actions according to the unchangeable forms of human nature, as existing in the mind of the creator, which is itself the image of all other minds. The one is partial, and applies only to a definite period of time, and a certain combination of events which can never again recur; the other is universal, and contains within itself the germ of a relation to whatever motives or actions have place in the possible varieties of human nature.

A Poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness, and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds; his auditors are as men entranced by the melody of an unseen musician, who feel that they are moved and softened, yet know not whence or why.

A Month of Living

According to my post on Skype, I have now been off of Facebook for a month (Sept. 15). I miss talking to a few people, most of whom I would probably hear back from if I messaged / wrote on their wall. A big thing is that Chris hardly gets on Skype, so I don't talk to him nearly as much these days. I have realized the difference between acquaintances / old friends and (active) friends. People drift apart; it doesn't mean the friendship and connection you had before was any less special. I realize the truth of those statements more and more as time passes and my group of active friends shrinks. And many of my 500 Facebook friends were only acquaintances that I never really developed a solid relationship with.

It's been a great year so far. I have dedicated myself to figuring out who I am, who I want to become, and how to get to that place where I'm happy. I'm reevaluating my dreams, my relationships with family and friends, and my habits. I outlined the kind of person I want to be in an earlier post: an independent, responsible, intelligent, loving, entertaining, creative man of God. To that end I have many ideas which I am trying to implement in my life.

Cutting myself off from brain numbing Facebook (I have struggled to ban TV completely) has allowed me to shake off this sedentary lifestyle, but I have a ways to go. Productive things here include buying my own health care policy and renewing my passport, albeit too late to go on the Vanderbilt Orchestra tour to China. (I'm extra upset about that because Garrett will be in China at the same time and is trying to meet up with friends!)

I have increased my reading ten-fold, and because I know that I have an especially poor memory, to really take something to heart I will have to reread things many times. I am studying Steinbeck's The Winter of Our Discontent through cutting it into a piece (forensics), although as an almost 300 page book I don't think I will be able to memorize something that long. I already have 7 pages typed out, plus the entirety of Chapter 3 copied and printed. The main point of this exercise is to be able to fully grasp the important themes and elements of the book and be able to talk about them intelligently. I doubt I'll ever run into a person who will know this particular book as well as I hope to, so there's also a kind of feeling that I'm making it my own. And I do so love the writing.

I love my friends. I don't think anyone would doubt that. But I have always had sort of an inferiority complex where I don't feel like an equal in the relationship. I try not to take offense when people don't return my messages or they say they are too busy to hang out, because I trust that they know what they are doing with their lives, and that if they had time they might make the effort to see me. I have struggled a lot with the feeling that I am 'dead weight.' So I think that I need to take some time to myself in order to find what I can bring to the table. If, as Mr. Rogers suggests, 'the greatest gift you can give is your honest self,' it's not selfish to try to make something of yourself. Something worth giving.

I wish I was funnier. I love comedy, and I love to make people laugh. Yet I am a horrendous story-teller and I really don't have any wild and crazy times to tell. My plan to become socially astute is two fold: Get used to my own voice (physically - by talking as much as possible); Find my creative voice (through music, art, poetry, and beliefs and opinions). Whenever I finish my latest poems, I'll kill two birds with one stone and memorize it for recitations. I don't plan on returning to Facebook until I complete five poems I am happy to share. I have gotten on Facebook briefly to find a picture for my Mom's digital frame and to find an e-mail address, and I'm not too thrilled with the new layout. Of course, I haven't had time to get used to it yet.

So I've read a few books this month. I could be doing so much more with my life. I am very glad to have rejuvenated this blog. This is my twelfth post since I disabled my Facebook. I'm not even sure if anyone reads this anymore, but writing and self-reflection makes me a self-aware and self-actualized person. It helps me absorb all that I read and experience. It stimulates creative self-expression. All of which hopefully will be noticed by those who love me enough to care.

Two final things remain in this analysis of the past month: A failure and a blessing.

Violin fell by the wayside this month. I am ashamed of my lack of effort and passion. My grand vision of putting in 400 practice hours by December was abandoned long ago. I'm still not sure what happened, but I have been a very lackluster student of music since my sophomore year at Vanderbilt. I'm not sure it's a coincidence that around that time I turned away from God.

I am trying to read the Bible again and actually went to church two weeks in a row. I really like this small Anglican church that meets on Saturdays. I mentioned running into the Robertsons, who were a real blessing in my teenage life. Maybe I should have tried harder to find my own way. Many people define themselves through their work, and have been guided by philosophy and the arts. But my experience has been that without a relationship with God, I have become incredibly apathetic, and that saying I felt 'lost' is a gross understatement.

A meaningful, joyful life starts at a spiritual level. A relationship with God should be the foundation for the rest of your life. The change I've experienced is just a start. I hope for ever more radical growth and for a fire to be lit under me as I come into my own.

Old Poems, part 2

Untitled. Feel free to suggest one if something good comes to mind. This poem was written back in high school.

Who is this 'me' we so admire

When all 'my' values seem for hire,

In this world where one man cheats

While another's child still cannot eat?

Look! Our faces are a facade

To hide beneath in the mock parade.

Are we to ignore what we create,

Thinking of Love when really we hate -

That filth that drags us to the pit -

Idly sinking, bit by bit?

How do we save ourselves, we ask?

Just accept the proffered flask

Of Life, from Him who has such grace

That He redeemed our fallen race.

In this quiet, dreary life I frown.

Should I take this sharp, thorned crown

Upon my brow, in hope that soon

The Sun will envelope the cold moon?

Or is such light a myth, that blinds

All eyes and minds that think they find

Everything in nothing? If such light

Is false, I choose it o'er black night,

Because, if dream be best, why wake

To no hope that we might make

Our lives better for now and after?

If this be true, we die with laughter.

But if truth and dream be one,

Cast moon away in favor of the Sun.

The Predators Game and Lindsey's Birthday

Yesterday was amazing! Anna was able to join me at the Preds game, which was a lot of fun. I had to leave church a few minutes early in order to meet her. We got one of the last parking spots, which I knew would mean trouble when we left. The game was great. I love hockey games, they are so entertaining. A fight went on for about 5 minutes. I was a bit surprised they let it drag on that long. They both got 5 for fighting. I started to remember a few chants. A big part of the fun of live hockey games is the fans.

There were two women, probably in their mid-30s, sitting a few rows ahead of Anna and me who were hilarious to watch. They would get up and dance at just about any random song, one woman began harmonizing during the National Anthem, and in the third period they came back with a tub of popcorn which they proceeded to toss in the air and attempt to catch in their mouths. And not just one piece at a time, fistfuls. They were throwing popcorn in front of them and behind them as well. It was ridiculous.

Unfortunately the Preds lost in a shootout, but it was still tons of fun. Getting out of the parking lot (we were on the 6th floor) was less fun. We tried to play Words with Friends on my phone but my battery was dying. I think it took us about 45 minutes to get back to Blair where I dropped Anna back off.

It was good timing when I showed up to Patterson House, though, because Lindsey and co. were told to come back later. I found them down the street at the Red Door Saloon, and we left as soon as I arrived. We goofed off and took pictures as we waited for a table. Julie, Laura Bouffard, Trey, and Matthew were all there.

In spite of spilling part of my first drink all over my pants, it was so fun. I had to take some time and drink some water back at Trey's house before I was fit to drive home (Matthew kindly drove my car back to Trey's. The two drinks I got were phenomenal: Monkey's Gland and I forget the 2nd... it was top of the Rum section, and had grenadine, which I love.

Lindsey looked stunning and did very well with her first serious heels. Julie bought something like 18 shirts during their shopping spree, which I got a kick out of. We tried each others' drinks and they were all very good. We are planning on bringing Kevin there for his 21st birthday. I think he'll start talking to the bartenders and take notes, haha.

I am so glad I was able to join them in celebration of Lindsey's 22nd birthday. What would I do without my friends?

Into the Wild

I ran out on an errand today and talked myself into stopping by Barnes and Noble. I spent at least 4 hours there reading. I talked myself out of buying anything, at least for the moment. There are so many books I have started in stores and bought, but never finished at home. I was so close to buying Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet.

But the majority of my time there today was spent reading Into the Wild, by Jon Krakauer. I read about half of the 200 page book. I will go back to finish it soon, or I might just buy it.

I plan on watching the movie as well, and if it's good / true to the book, I'll recommend it. The book is very good as well. Christopher McCandless graduated from Emory, donated all his savings to charity, and road tripped across the country. After leaving his car he hitchhiked and hopped on trains up the California coast and over to South Dakota, where he worked for a time to save money for his "great adventure" up to the Alaskan wilderness. He changed his name and broke contact with his family, and after two years criss-crossing the American West, he found his way to Alaska. He hitchhiked to the edge of Denali National Park and after almost 4 months he died of starvation.

Considering his willful lack of preparation and caution (he refused help when friends offered to buy him better gear, entering the park with only 10 lbs. of rice to eat, a .22 rifle and some other supplies) I try not to romanticize his story. His complete separation from his family is also bewildering and sad. But the very idea of finding yourself in nature is alluring. I don't think I have the guts to hitchhike, but nowadays I can't imagine you could get very far. I know I probably wouldn't pick up a hitchhiker.

I am big into survivalism, and while I try not to be a crazy prophet of doom, I could totally see scenarios playing out where everyday life as we know it in cities comes to a halt out of some natural disaster or riots. A related thought I hope to write more on is that I want to try to become more self-sufficient.

Is it unnatural to spend the majority of your day inside buildings rather than outside? If I couldn't go to the store and buy food, or if the electricity went out for a period of time, could I find food to eat and be able to heat my house? If I had to evacuate, what would I take with me?

There's nothing like getting lost in nature to put your life in perspective. I am fascinated by people who can live on the fringes of society. In the same way I love watching Discovery Channel and Animal Planet where sometimes they show other cultures. Yes, it's a more hand to mouth existence, but they avoid the traps of materialism, consumerism, and they live productive lives and are at least as happy as the Western world.

I wish I could just let everything go, like Alex Supertramp. Asceticism has always interested me. I'll write a more organized review of the book when I finish reading.

Old Poems, part 1

So today was great. I went up to Blair early because Dad and I couldn't work after it had rained. I got an okay amount of practicing done, but spent a good chunk of time working on my poems and trying to find someone to take to the Predator's game on Saturday. I have asked 10 people and everyone is either out of town or has a conflict that evening.

After rehearsal for Trey's piece, Soupir, Trey, Chris and I went to Jackson's for dinner and a drink. I didn't want to spend a lot and I knew the (I think spinach and artichoke) dip was a good size and delicious.

We went back to Trey's and talked. Chris had to meet Shelby for another rehearsal. I started a game of Syzygy with Trey, which was fun but slow and it took forever with just two people. If you don't know the game, it's basically like Bananagrams.

I read the poems I had been working on and Trey gave good feedback, as always. I really respect his opinion and was happy that he was impressed with certain lines of my poems. They aren't quite cohesive and parts seem contrived as I tried to combine my original lines of inspiration with a sort of framework. Those poems need to be finished, but I dug up some old poems to repost. Enjoy!

Here is my Ode to Wien, written the day before I left Vienna.

Oh Wien! The snow now crowns your buildings

In pure white sheets. Your graceful apartments,

Quaint stores, your hallowed museums - all things

Reveal themselves to me anew. Snow complements

The architecture of your halls, monuments of a time

Now lost, as if they were built for such a purpose.

O Wien! City of music! Always a song is upon the air,

And so every passing hour one can feel the sublime.

Your cafes and parks have offered repose

To many who knew of no city so fair.



Oh Wien! With your lopsided Dom and bright palaces,

Full of history and majesty, you indeed are a jewel

Set in your Ring. Your glory remains, not just chalices

Locked behind glass, though only a fool

Would deny their beauty is a testament to your might.

No sleeping giant, you are alive and well!

You have grown and continue to be a part

Of the modern world. Yet still, at night,

Walking home on cold streets I hear the bell

Of a church, and I know the peace in your heart.



Oh Wien! So swiftly your seasons came,

My time here has passed suddenly, I feel

Bewildered - like a dream I recall the same

Day I arrived. How could I know Time would steal

Away and slip through my fingers? The heat

Of summer gave way to cool autumn in one day!

Oh Wien! I knew you well for three seasons.

How I wish I could see your spring and meet

The new flowers as the frost melts away!

Why we must part now confounds my reason.



Oh Wien! Must I tomorrow fly to another land?

When shall I walk your streets and see

Your markets - Christmas and otherwise - and stand

Again before your palaces and halls and be

Once more enthralled by your beauty?

Not soon enough! But I shall return.

A new year for me was begun here,

I learned and loved. Now I must see

This is not the end. A light will burn

In my mind, recalling everything most dear.