Community and the Self

Ah, finals week.  The magical (or devilish) week that can make or break a person's grade.  I am fortunate enough to have only one of those dreaded things... So what do I do with my time?  Do I finish reading Shakespeare's A Winter's Tale because I was supposed to for class?  Do I look over my notes on Stephen Greenblatt and the critical theories and readings behind good ol' Bill Shakespeare's works?

Chuck Testa.

Instead I've been sitting on my butt and have gone through two full seasons of Community in about three or four days.  I am officially in love.

I have also been doing a lot of thinking.  Or at least, I've been thinking about doing a lot of thinking.  As I've been watching the show, I've noticed that they all focus on each character individually.  One of the things that is NOT present is that feeling of sexual tension (well, at least not that much).  Sure you have Jeff hitting on everything that moves, and sure, you get the Jeff/Britta drama, but the show succeeds in really showcasing the characters as individuals, and having the characters grow.  As individuals.

This idea is something that has been resonating with me for the past semester or so.  I mention in a previous blog post that this semester's been something of a personal one for me.  I really feel like I was able to get down and focus on all that academia has to offer.

However, it's not to say that it's been the smoothest of rides... There have been many a Friday night when it seems like everyone around me is getting intimate - everyone that is, but myself.

This is going to be a weird and disjointed segue (I promise it will make sense in the next paragraph), but throughout my life I have been so focused on putting others' needs ahead of mine.  I have always been that person that says "oh, no problem!" and drops everything to help someone else.  Well, what about my needs?  I am still willing and able to help people out, but I now recognize that there are certain things that I have got to tackle on my own.

This especially rings true in terms of dating (see?  I told you it would pan out).  For a good part of my college career (a.k.a. the past three years), I have been basically pining for a significant other.  Of course, everyone around me has been supportive, and been all like "oh, you will find someone - you deserve it!"

But I don't think I do.  Not right now.

I don't mean for the previous statement to be depressing at all - I simply mean that at this point in my personal development and social surroundings, I would be quite the disaster in a relationship.  I have often heard the following expression: "You'll never share real love until you love yourself." -RENT

Now, as cliche as that might be, it really rings true.  I am simply not in the right space right now.  Being in rural Indiana, struggling to find my social and national identity, attempting to deal with my body issues - all do not bode well for a potential relationship.

Not that I'm depressed about it.  Don't get me wrong.  As much as I'd love a relationship, I know that I really need to hash these issues out first.  Once I get in the space where I can love myself wholly, and not just in parts, will I then be ready.

I have long since recognized that I build my self esteem from my musical talent.  This is perhaps why I was so hurt when I didn't pass my sophomore proficiencies.  Once that blow was dealt, I felt like I really didn't have any defining or positive things to like about myself.

This is not how it should be.

I need to be able to look at myself, and accept - nay, embrace, every aspect of me.  Whether it be negative or positive, perfect or imperfect.  I need to be able to look at myself and see that "Oh, my skin is not as tan as it used to be - and that's OK."

I've been getting a lot better about it, but I still have some moments.

The important thing, however, is that I am continuing to better myself as a person foremost, and as anything else second.

And that's ok.

Stuck

is how I feel.

Oh, hi by the way.  Long time no see.  Guess this thing has just kind of fallen by the wayside.  But let's change that!

Forewarning, this is going to be kind of a stream-of-consciousness type deal.  So yeah.

This semester's almost over, and I just kind of feel stuck.  There are so many things that I want to do, yet don't have the time to do so.  I have lots of work that I am trying to do, on top of grad school apps (please note that I'm not complaining, I'm actually quite proud of myself for handling this much work in such a good way)... And I'm just kind of frustrated by a lot of things.

First, my voice.  I got this cold, bug, sickness, whatever you want to call it the Thursday before last, and it still has little tendrils of sickness that's just kinda hanging around my lungs.  It got to the point that I couldn't say two sentences without hacking up half a lung.  And the thing was, these were DRY coughs... It wasn't even a productive half a lung.

It basically ruined my voice for a week.  And let me tell you - never have I wanted to practice and sing more than when my voice was in a shambles.  It's luckily getting better now, but with juries coming up and a performance where I have to sing loud and high, let's just say my voice better be in shape or I'm gonna cut someone.

I've also kind of been at a loss socially.  Yes, I have been taking more of a 'personal' semester.  And let me say this right off the bad - I ADORE the people that I have been hanging out with on a regular basis.  I'm just kind of frustrated because I see all of these people who I really want to hang out with, or haven't hung out with in a long time and I just don't have the TIME to hang out with them... And it seems like I'm always hanging out with the same people.  That was a lot of "hanging outs" and "hung outs" in a short span of time.  But whatever.  You guys can deal with that.

I'm just worried that my relationships with others are languishing because I'm being complacent... I'm comfortable in my groove, and my actions aren't necessarily indicative that I want to change.  But I really do.

There's just so much I want to do and I feel like there isn't any time left.  I want to become more proficient on my instrument, and provide a kick-ass recital.  I want to do really well in my Shakespeare, Eastern European and American Portraits classes.  I also want to become more active in the Asian-American community at school, and to become more knowledgeable in my own culture, and my own identity.  I want to hang out with people who I haven't seen in a long time, but I also want to keep hanging out with the people I've been seeing for a long time.  I want to get back on the exercise train and try to lose more weight.  I want to do all of these things, and it's becoming a matter of what I want to do most.

I think what I have to do is to simply step back and let things happen the way they will.  I have to tell myself that I still have one semester to do all of these things, and that whatever happens will happen.  I think I feel like I've only really gotten the hang of college in the last year or so, and so I feel like I need to do EVERYTHING ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET.  What I really should be doing is to be thankful for all of the experiences and opportunities that my University has given me, and to make sure that I learn from my endeavors and become a better person because of them.  I'm finally at a place where I can think about these things, and to not dwell on the past or the future.  I just need to keep taking things as they come, and to enjoy everything from beginning to end.  Bill Clinton said in his lecture yesterday that, "Pessimism is a shortcut to disappointment."  I just need to keep this in mind as I traverse through the many paths of life, and know that in the end I will end up successful, no matter what I eventually wind up doing.

HA, you thought this was going to be an entirely depressing post, didn't you?  Well the joke's on you.

Week 4 (ish... again)

Week four started off great.  Went out running (pushed myself and went in spurts of 90 second running, then walking instead of 60 sec. of running).  However... the pain in my knee and upper leg area persisted... After talking to my mom, we decided not to really push it and to see what would happen if I were to go on the elliptical.

Which never happened, but that's a story for later.

Tuesday was good as well... I went to the gym and pushed myself on the weights.  I need to find someone to work out with me in the mornings, because I feel like I want to bench press... but I don't have anyone to spot me... Therefore I'm cautious.  And if I'm cautious, then I won't push myself.  You get the point.  Anyway, I worked out my upper body and stuff, and that was all good.

Wednesday I didn't go... for some reason.  I can't quite remember...  I think I had some like bullshit reason that I had to let my knee rest.  Thursday and Friday I was super busy with DePauw Discourse stuff (we had Yo-Yo Ma come and give a bunch of lectures and masterclasses!  That is a blog post in and of itself... to come soon).

Total pounds lost: 0.  At least I haven't gained any, right?

I am going to be making more of an effort to work out - even with my super busy week ahead.  Two exams and a presentation - let's gooooo!

Weeks 2 and 3 (or rather, a feeble attempt at said weeks...)

I should be marking my fourth week of full exercise.

However, I am not.

At least for last week, my knee bothering me kept me from running Monday and Wednesday... I lifted weights on Thursday, and resumed running on Friday.  My knee seems very opposed to the idea of doing work... It's kind of like the rebellious teenager, pushing back on the authority of my brain and lashing out.  Now it seems much more willing, but only time will tell.  Poundage lost during last week: 1.

This week I was determined to start off on a good streak.  I went running on Monday and felt really good about it.  I went and lifted weights on Tuesday and felt really good about it.

And then Wednesday hit.

I have no idea what happened to me on that morning, but my body REFUSED to wake up.  It was like my body all of a sudden rebelled against my brain and said "screw you, I'm going to sleep."  Which I did.  Luckily (or unluckily, I should say), my running partner Jordan was feeling sick, so he didn't go either.

I did go to the gym on Thursday though, so there's that.  But I didn't go running on Friday, for much of the same reason as Wednesday.  Poundage lost: 1.

I'm trying to go up a step in my running process.  I had previously been jogging for 60 seconds and walking for 90 seconds for 20 minutes, as a kind of low-intensity regimen.  The next step in the program is reversing it... jogging for 90 seconds and walking for 60.  I think I'll try that tomorrow and see how I feel.  Running has been getting steadily easier and easier for me, and I think it may be time to add on a little more intensity.

So yeah.  I'm kind of excited, and I'm trying to get back into the motivation that I had at the beginning of the year.  It's hard work, but I'm trying to think long term, and not just "omg i werked out for like 5 min y am i not skinny yet???????!!?!?!1"

Which is hard.

See ya!

Week 1 of Exercise

Whoooooooo....

Monday I went out running with my roommate.  I'm on what's called a "couch to 5k" running plan, which is a 9 week program that starts off easy(ish) and gets incrementally harder with each week.  The starting week was a 20 min. session of jogging for a minute and walking for 90 seconds.

Actually it started off well, and as the run progressed and I got more and more tired, every time I felt like I was about to die my roommate would be like "ok, stop."

I assume this means that that's the right level for me to start off with.

After the run I felt so sick.  I was just sitting in my room and trying to stretch everything out and fighting the pangs of nausea and lightheadedness.  Then I went to take a shower, and started feeling better.

Then I went to go lay down.

Actually though, once I did that I started feeling MUCH better... And as I went through the day, I found that I was a lot more energetic and alert than I would have been (probably).

It also might have been the huge cup of coffee that I drank, but I'm telling myself it's the run.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wednesday marked day 2 of running.  I should probs mention that Monday evening and most of Tuesday my leg muscles were BURNING.  It was not fun (although it felt good to know that I was working my muscles).

Wednesday morning we went out again, for the same duration of time.  However, I found myself running faster and getting less winded as we stopped.  This would, in fact, turn and bite me in my rear-end, but at the time I thought "ooh, look at me!  Size 26 waist in NO TIME!" (might be an exaggeration).

About halfway through the run I start FEELING IT.  Like holy crap.  I should also mention that we aren't running on like a track or treadmill, but an actual hilly trail.

And the way back is uphill.

Anyway, I about die on my way back, and I feel even MORE sick than on Monday, which is good because I ran faster and stuff, but I was basically holding back from throwing up...

And then cue some more of feeling good for the day, blablablabla until later that night when my knee starts aching something FIERCE.  Like not strain ache, but like bones rubbing together ache.  I went out to buy a knee brace and stuff, and it's only now getting better.  Needless to say that I didn't go out running on Friday.

But it's ok!  I'm not like beating myself up about it, and I'm actually pretty excited to go out again once my knee gets better (which'll be on Monday.  I've decided).

I also lost 5 pounds!  I was like oh my god!  It was great.

I'm quite proud of myself for actually having the motivation to WANT to stick to something like this!  I think it's a mark of my shift in needing to rely on others to relying on myself, and it's a great blablablablablablabla emotional hippie crap that can wait till another blog post.

 

Bye!
 

My foray into exercise (Whoa...)

I am about to embark on a quest.  No, not one to find the holy grail, but one for self-improvement.

I think I'm at a place in my life now where I am actually motivated for the right reasons.  In past years, I guess I've had this impression that if I were to be skinny, that I would all of a sudden overnight become this magical beast that is full to the brim of self-confidence, wit, and that I would have suitors of every type coming after me.

...This may or may not be exaggerated.

At any rate, I thought that just shedding weight would make me instantly a better person.

I think that I put so much stock into this dream that I then would work out super hard one week, be tired and sore, and NOT see any results.

Thus begat my cycle of impatience and stuff, as seen in my previous post.

Now, however, I have realized some things.

1) Just because someone is skinny - wait for it - is not an indication of their worth as a person.  And just because I am overweight does not marr my personality a bit.  Nor does it make me any more of a person to be fit.  I have to work on everything equally if I want to be the best that I can be.

2) It.  Takes.  Patience.  Just going to the gym and running 5 miles on the treadmill is not going to turn you into a superhunk if you only go once a month.  All you will accomplish is that you will kill your legs for two days after.

3) ???

4) PROFIT

...At any rate.

I am starting this running program that will supposedly get me away from my 'OMG SEDENTARY' lifestyle to that of a semi-runner.  It starts slow, but it ramps up with each week.   Along with my Asian posts, I am going to try to keep a log of how the experience is going.  I figure if I post some updates, I'll hold myself more accountable, and also motivate myself by trying to to fail and look stupid in front of you guys (you know, because I have a GIGANTIC subscriber base.  SO MANY PEOPLE want to see what I have to say).

Um, but yeah.  I think that's all I have to say.  I'm gonna go read Shakespeare now.

Bye!

A Selfish Post (amid all the Asian)

I am impatient.

This year has really gone off to a great start.  I am enjoying all of my classes (for now...), and I am finally at a point in my life where I am comfortable being by myself.  I have, in previous years, been pretty socially needy.  It's gotten progressively better, but even last year I was at a point where I would try to surround myself with friends and social interaction, at the expense of a lot of my schoolwork.

I am much more secure in myself now, and feel comfortable enough to recognize when I need to take a step back, and go do some work.  Minor victories!

ANYWAY.  This is not a post in which I brag about my life and how great it is and how you wish you were me (even though I suppose I kind of did... u mad?)

My housemates went on a Walmart run today...  And one of the things that they brought back with them on their epic journey was a scale.

I have recently been on this - not so much diet, but more meal moderation - kick in which I eat smaller portions of food more frequently throughout the day.  It's been going pretty well, I think, and aside from the unrelated fact that I haven't been getting enough sleep recently, I'm feeling better.

Which brings me back to the fact that I am impatient.

I started this plan on Monday.  I am at the point in any diet modification I think that I am expecting SUPER FAST RESULTS like they promise you on TV except that I haven't bought anything from TV so I don't know why I was expecting it but I am.

This results thing was also doubly reinforced with the introduction of the scale.

I weighed myself.

I did not like my results.

But then I think to myself "what are you doing.  it is barely a week into the semester. stop being crazy and just work on it."

I'm not quite sure what the moral of this post is.

To be patient?

To keep on keepin' on?

To totally give up and pig out on everything forever?

Maybe.

Bye!

The Emotionless Mask - Asian Invasion Pt. 3 (三)

Growing up, I remember this one particular instance at a cub-scout camp:

A younger brother of one of my fellow scouts was also at the camp, and about halfway through the thing, he says to me something like "Jeremy, you're weird.  Your face is either happy or nothing.  There's no in-between."  Now, I'm smartening up the language (do you like that word that I just made up?), but that's basically what he was getting at.

This has been pretty much a 'story-of-my-life' instance, with various people telling me at various ages something similar ("oh, it's hard to tell what you're thinking," or, "are you upset?")

It's really interesting comparing the dynamic of my family with the snapshot dynamics of friends that I stay with during breaks at school.  Since I live in Hawaii but go to school in the mid-west, airfare gets to be a little too expensive to fly back and forth for summer, fall break, Christmas break AND spring break, so I just make do with Christmas and summer.  During the other breaks I find some way of entertaining myself, and that just so happens to be traveling and staying with friends, and it's so interesting to watch.

White people are so expressive!

Not just happy, or neutral, but everything in between - they use their faces so effectively with just the right amount of nuance that I am kind of like "what is happening and why can I not do this?"  It seems like whenever I THINK I'm making a nuanced expression, all I really am doing is just looking kind of introspective and slightly depressed.  The same goes for when I'm singing... As a performer I have to always look engaged in the music - and when I try to do that without outright pasting a huge grin on my face (or so it seems to me) I just look kind of out of it and slightly high...

I guess that's what "self-improvement" is all about, huh?  Anyway, I thought that I was kind of unique in that aspect until I came across "Paper Tigers."  In it, Wesley Yang interviews a bunch of Asian Americans about their experiences.  One of them, a college graduate by the name of Daniel Chu, explains some of the things he encountered once he got to university:

Chu remembers that during his first semester at Williams, his junior adviser would periodically take him aside. Was he feeling all right? Was something the matter?  “I wasn’t totally happy, but I wasn’t depressed.”... But then his new white friends made similar remarks. “They would say, ‘Dan, it’s kind of hard, sometimes, to tell what you’re thinking.’ ”

Chu... speaks in a quiet, unemphatic voice. He doesn’t move his features much. He attributes these traits to the atmosphere in his household. “When you grow up in a Chinese home,” he says, “you don’t talk. You shut up and listen to what your parents tell you to do.”

When he arrived at Williams, Chu slowly became aware of something strange: The white people in the New England wilderness walked around smiling at each other. “When you’re in a place like that, everyone is friendly.”

He made a point to start smiling more. “It was something that I had to actively practice,” he says. “Like, when you have a transaction at a business, you hand over the money—and then you smile.”

While my own upbringing wasn't completely iron-fisted (hehe), aspects of it were.  I was never told to shut up, or that I couldn't talk, but I could never talk over my parents or even really tease them.  At least that part of it was clear.  And doubly so if they were disciplining me.  While they never hit me, they had a way of telling me that they were NOT happy.

I wasn't disciplined that often as a kid, but I was a lot more timid and would bottle things up... so I learned at an early-ish age to hide my emotions - to turn my head down and fix my face into something neutral, and I guess it just kind of stuck with me.

Even now, if I am put in a situation that I am even the slightest bit uncomfortable with, I tend to draw up into a shell, and put up a front... This happened just a few days ago, actually.  I went to a festival in Chicago with a few friends and friends of theirs whom I had never met, and at one point during the night one of them said "So, are you just really chill or are you like, bored?"

That really was kind of a wake-up call, and one lesson that I think I can take with me for awhile to come.  However, once I get something in my head, it's really hard to get it out, and it's something that I will work toward and seems to be helping.  Last night I went out with one of my host's friends to go see Captain America.  And perhaps it was my host's charisma, or simply the fact that there was a lot of common ground, I was able to get out of my shell, and actually bond a bit right off the bat!

It was a good thing.

Why I conduct.

We will now break from our usually scheduled Asian programming to bring you this:

Just kidding.



I feel like whenever I tell people that I want to go into conducting that the first thing that pops into their head is "why?"  That, or "ok, weirdo."  I feel that it is doubly so at my school, where we do not have a conducting major, and many of my vocalist friends and colleagues seem to think that choir is a chore, and only go because it is required.

I would like to offer this explanation (not that any of you care - I'm just writing this down so that I can come back to it later).

This summer has been a wonderful experience.  Since, as I pointed out earlier (hooray redundancies!), my school does not offer a conducting major aside from music education, I try to do all I can to fill up and load up on classes (hurrdurr I'll load YOU up...).  I have been very busy with workshops and internships and what have you, and it didn't really strike me until tonight - as I was conducting along to bad Youtube recordings and some good ones - of this fact.

Music flows through me.


Quite literally.  When I am up on the podium and I start conducting, I am the happiest man on the planet.  It flows through me like blood through my veins.  It reminds me that music is all about COLLABORATION, and that together, we are all creating something as special and as magical as when it was first composed.


I conduct out of love.


The same goes when I am a singer in a choir.  When we all know our music, and can connect to the conductor, I can almost see the music flowing from his fingertips and infusing me with the ability to give all I can to make the performance as wonderful as possible.  It is like the conductor is the catalyst with which the music flows through.



I felt this at our concert two weeks ago.

This feeling is something that I don't quite get out of solo singing.  Yes, it is a wonderful thing to bond with your accompanist, and exploring the nuances of the music and the text, feeling the give-and-take in the music is something that I adore - but it just doesn't FEEL the same.  And while it does give me a sense of accomplishment, the feeling is NOTHING compared to the joy of completing a concert that you designed and rehearsed and worked and worked... And this was all last semester, BEFORE I got really in tune with myself!


This is something that I will strive to accomplish with any group that I have the privilege of conducting and directing.


This is my dream.

So am I a Duck or a Wheel? (Asian Invasion Pt. 2 (二))

“'The loudest duck gets shot' is a Chinese proverb. 'The nail that sticks out gets hammered down' is a Japanese one. Its Western correlative: 'The squeaky wheel gets the grease.'” -Wesley Yang, "Paper Tigers"

I've noticed many things different between what I'll call the Western School of Parenting vs. the Eastern School.  Most notably the difference between U.S. parents and East-Asian ones.

Some people may be aware of the meme called the High Expectations Asian Father:

Less famous is the "Tiger Mom:"

It is a stereotype (remember, they ARE based on fact), that the children of Asian parents are to always get A's in their schoolwork, play either the violin or piano, and have almost no social life.  This is true amongst a few of my Asian friends, although not so much in my own personal experience.

On the flip side, though my parents have occasionally tried to do some tiger mom-ing and Asian father-ing, they have stayed pretty Western in their styles.  When I was a junior in high school I was choosing between majoring in music and majoring in psychology.  My parents, very practical and looking out for my long-term future (as most parents, not only Asians, do), told me to consider going into psychology for the job stability.  However, instead of pressuring and forcing me to do so, they supported me when I decided to go into music.

Though they were never very "Asian" in their parenting styles, there is one thing that I got from them that is decidedly not-Western: The idea of keeping ones head down, and leading by example rather than making a fuss.  Whenever there was a problem, instead of telling somebody about it or confronting the issue, I would bottle it up inside and store it away - which is quite opposite of my Western friends' upbringing.

I am quite good at compartmentalizing.

In the "Paper Tigers" article, Wesley Yang writes, " “White people have this instinct that is really important: to give off the impression that they’re only going to do the really important work. You’re a quarterback. It’s a kind of arrogance that Asians are trained not to have."

Going to school in the midwest was quick to teach me this - as a result I have gotten much better (I think) about talking of myself - althought I still share a sense that if I try to "talk myself up," that I will come across as arrogant or dumb - I am in the mindset of the nail that is about to be hammered down, to blend with everyone else.  Ironically, everyone (almost) in the midwest is in the mindset of the squeaky wheel!

Growing up and looking at future grad-schools and jobs have taught me that I really need to start learning to talk about myself.  I've always been content to be in the background - to be kind of a fly on the wall of the conversation - but I'm starting to realize that in this economy/job market, people are not looking for flies... They are looking for someone who will get things done no matter the situation - they are looking for confidence in a sea of humility.

And I'm working on it. 

The Asian Invasion Pt. 1 (一)

This has been a topic that has been long in my mind.  I've been struggling with the right words to write, but have been helped greatly by NYMagazine's article "Paper Tigers" http://nymag.com/news/features/asian-americans-2011-5/ as well as Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.

Because I have so many things and topic that I'm thinking about, I think I'm gonna split it up into multiple blog entries and call it a series (of potentially unfortunate events).

So yeah.  Asians.  I don't think I became fully aware of what it meant to be an Asian-American until I came to school in the midwest.  Not that I have encountered any racism, I've actually been very fortunate to find myself a wonderful group of friends and a very friendly atmosphere/environment.

However, when I was growing up in Hawaii, I didn't really notice much of anything - partly because I am by nature pretty oblivious, but mostly because, quite frankly, Asians run rampant there.

I don't consider myself to have a particularly Asian upbringing - both of my parents are quite well-assimilated into American culture, and as such have not fallen into what Amy Chua calls the "Tiger Mother" style of parenting; the type that Family Guy loves making fun of:

In fact, from Ms. Chua's account, as well as accounts from certain friends of mine, this really isn't much of an exaggeration.  But more on that later.

I think that it was because of this upbringing that in high school a majority of my friends were Caucasian.  On the flip side, I think that it's hilarious that in college, where white people are the majority, I am seeking out the friendships of the Asian Americans.  I don't really have an insightful post for that, I simply wanted to make the situation more funny.

Actually though it is an accurate representation of the way I was brought up - a weird amalgamation of Asian and American values and mores, with none really being more superior to the other.


Hm... My mind is especially wander-y today.  I think I'll go grab some lunch and then come back perhaps.  Or maybe not.  At any rate, stay tuned - more to come from this banana (yellow on the outside, white on the inside)!

Music, the Beach, and Life Itself

Gosh it sure has been awhile.

I have really meant to be writing more, but... I haven't.

ANYWAY...

Two nights ago I decided to go for a walk on the beach.  I should probably preface that I've been in Cannon Beach, Oregon for the past week doing a conducting workshop and it has been BEAUTIFUL.  Four out of the five days have had sunshine and high-60's weather.  In fact, Thursday was the only day that was pretty overcast, and even that was wonderful.  The mist hung in the air as if in a romantic movie, and only intensified at night.

Thursday night we went to Rod's beach cottage (he was the guy doing the workshop) for a wrap-up party.  After all the party-goers left, I lingered behind along with my roommate and a high school teacher from California.  As we stood out on the balcony looking at Haystack Rock, we all decided to go out onto the beach.

As we stepped on to the sand from the beach access I was struck by how different the sand really is.  Growing up in Hawaii, I've always been pretty accustomed to coarser sand... This was anything but.  It was so cool to the touch and basically enveloped my feet, and it was so fine!  And I don't mean fine as in "oh gurl, you so fine" fine, but very very smooth - so smooth in fact, that it squeaked as we walked on it.

After I got over the sand, I looked out into the ocean and was struck dumb.

For you to get an accurate representation of what it was like, you need to have a frame of reference.  If you've never seen haystack rock before, here's a picture:

Imagine if you will the dead of night, with a fog that was just heavy enough to reflect the few lights in the town up to the sky, and shrouding us into the dusk (wow look at me being all poetic).  The tide had pulled all the way back PAST the rock, leaving us free to go all the way up to the rock all the way to the left of the picture to explore.

The sights were incredible.

Covering the rocks were a bunch of shell-looking things that, in the dim light looked to be moving.  There were also spongy moss-like things that looked really cool in the light.

Oh, and the water was like freezing.  Nbd.

Anyway, my two companions felt so compelled by the night that they decided to take a quasi-skinny dip.  I did not join them, if only because I didn't feel as compelled (I know I know, using the same word twice like this is a grammar no-no... But I couldn't think of any other word.  Sue me), so instead I started turning my thoughts inward.

I started watching the gentleness of the waves rolling in, and, amid the screams of "Ah! COLD!!!" from my compatriots, started trying to feel the rhythm of the waves, and (this is about to sound very zen) consequently, the universe.

In music, we all have our own interpretations of rhythm, and especially so if one is the conductor.  On that particular night, I started trying to feel the beat of the ocean.

When I was taught conducting, I was told to act as if my hands were immersed underwater so as to convey both relaxation, but also clarity in the pattern. 

I was reminded of that fact that night, not trying to control anything, not trying to evoke anything.

I simply was.

Twitter as Educational Tool?

I was stumbling around Facebook late one night (ok, tonight... and it's currently 4:00 AM...) when I came across this article:

http://www.cnn.com/2011/TECH/social.media/06/08/twitter.school/

The headline reads: "Twitter Finds a Place in the Classroom."

The article basically follows a middle-school teacher who, instead of shunning the use of technology, allows his students to be on the internet, "as long as they're using Twitter."  As he lectures in class, he poses questions to the students.  Now, whereas before only a select group of students would consistenly speak up, he now finds that he is getting a more well-balanced response from the class via Twitter.

This article really got me thinking... Although I'm so much of a social media whore nowadays (I've got Facebook, Twitter, Blogspot, Tumblr, LinkedIn, and Youtube AS WELL AS three emails) that any article related to this kind of medium will get me "thinking."

ANYWAY, I got this off of a friend who at first shot down the idea outright, speaking of getting the children AWAY from their "extreme dependency on technology."  However as soon as I read this article I thought to myself, "huh..."

Sure, on one hand the internet can be a very sketchy place, and many people will argue that it has no place in the classroom, BUT:

WHAT IF we were to create an environment on the internet, a sort of safe haven forum that allows everyone to participate in an intelligent manner?  What if we then took this idea of a "safe zone" and applied it to people who are just coming to realize the internet's potential?

By starting in middle school, we would be able to "get them" while they are still young, and uncolored by the distractions that are facebook and youtube and what have you.  This would teach the students that the internet is more than just a cheap dick joke or meme-source; it's a place of discussion and intelligence.

Also, as stated at the beginning of the post, the teacher in question noticed that he got a wider base of response from his class, not just the kids that always tend to "dominate classroom discussions."  The slight anonymity that the internet (and in this case, Twitter) has given his class allows a lot of his shyer students the opportunity to speak where they may not have felt comfortable before.

And maybe, just maybe, by reaching out to the students in this way, we can see a change in how the internet is run, where facebook and intelligent conversation can run side-by-side.

Now, I realize that this is EXTREMELY and utterly optimistic and idealistic, but I think that by starting young, and by fostering an environment that is both safe and intelligent, these children might be able to change the way the internet is perceived (at least by a lot of America, at any rate).

Reflections on the Mainland

It has always been interesting to me - why I chose to go to school in the midwest.

When I tell people that I am from Hawaii, the first thing they say to me is normally something along the lines of "You live in HAWAII?  Why on God's Almighty Green-And-Brown-And-Blue Earth would you choose to come to the Midwest???"

And you know, on paper the arguments seem to stack against this decision.  The school I'm at now was the only place in the Midwest that I applied to, and the only school that I auditioned at live.  They didn't give me very much scholarship money, and I could have easily gone to school at home for about $5,000 a year...

So why this school?  Why would I choose to put myself in debt for a majority of my life for a school that is a twelve-hour plane ride away from a place that I can even remotely call home?

I have always told myself that I was a fairly independent person.  I have told myself for the last few years or so that I wanted to "get off the rock," as people say at home, and explore the vast world out there.  And on some level it's true.

HOWEVER.  I think on some level, perhaps subconsciously, perhaps Flying-Spaghetti-Monster-induced, I knew that I wasn't very happy at home.  I was an awkward duck.  And I mean SCHMAWKWARD (disclaimer! This doesn't mean that I'm not awkward now - I have my moments... Ok, a lot of moments).  I knew that a change of pace would really do me good.  It would get me away from my parents, who I love to death, but will talk about maybe in another blog post, as well as take me out of the "Hawaiian-style" mindset.

Now, this is not saying anything against local people.  This is one of those "It's not you, it's me" type of situations.  I simply do not think that I have a "local kine" mindset.  Everything seemed so contrived, and so, like, falsely chill (if I can coin a term); at least at my high school.  It was likke no one was there to learn anything, and I think I picked it up at a fairly early age...  I did not try in school, I hated doing homework, I still pulled slightly-above-average grades... People were just stupid.

*Now I realize that this is probably a similar situation to a lot of people out there, but let me have my say! :P*

I think actually the addition of pidgin helped it, if I'm being completely honest.  At least the pidgin that I was exposed to.  And no, not this kind:

Hawaiian pidgin originally started when the immigrants from all different countries started coming to work in the pineapple fields and the like.  In order to understand each other, they mixed and mingled their languages to form what is know as pidgin today.

Now, some pidgin can be intelligent, when people actually do mix the languages.  That is of no problem for me... The problem lies within these (VERY) often white-boys that simply think "Ho bah, we go beech o' wat" is pidgin.

These are the people that get confused by words such as 'intelligent,' and it kind of drives me nuts.

These are just some things I think about.

And I'm not saying that by moving to the mainland everything is fixed and everyone is happy.  No, there are still gripes I have, but on the whole, being in this academic (and social... very social... VERY social) enviornment has really changed me for the better.

Well I've had dinner and the writing mood has worn off, so I think I'll end it here.

Thanks, and bye!

Ramblings on Musical Elitism

I had meant to write this earlier in the semester, but life and everything got in the way.

I was in the music library one day making some copies, when I overheard a certain music professor "chatting" with one of the student workers.

On this day, the school newspaper released its new edition, and one of the editorials was titled something like "Don't Overlook Student Musicians."  It was a referring to the time that a certain performer (whose name rhymes with Bike Bosner) came to perform, and though one of our more prominent student bands was very connected to the artist, the University student board neglected to choose them as one of the opening acts to the concert (of which he had like 8, but that's besides the point).

As this professor was waiting for the library staff to retrieve something for her, she started perusing said newspaper.  I was making copies, and half eaves-dropping (don't judge me, it's the music school.  Everybody eaves-drops) when I heard the professor say something along the lines of "you know, they really shouldn't publish things like this - it confuses people and detracts from what music students REALLY do."

This statement got me thinking about the role that we play in the whole music world.  This professor is known for her... pedestalistic (is that even a word?  I don't even know) view of music.  And by that I mean that in her mind (and a lot of classically trained minds), there is a clear dichotomy between "good music" and "crap music," with classical music being at the top of that pedestal (pyramid, whatever you want).

This begs the question: What are we music students really trying to accomplish, in all of our educational endeavors?  It is no secret that classical music is a slowly dying art, associated mainly with old people and those who are perhaps not as apt socially.  And Asians.  Are we to continue this trend of slowly emptying concert halls and bankrupt symphonies forever?

The whole point of music is to ENJOY oneself.  Just as there is a time and place for Shostakovich's 6th Symphony, so too is there room for Justin Bieber's "Baby."  Art is art, expression is expression.  It is just that people who are along the vein of J-biebs is simply a bit EASIER to "appreciate," so to speak.

This is starting to sound like an entire (boring) dissertation, so I'll stop soon... I only want to point out that while there are people who like to stay soundly in their own worlds, such as this professor or Sir Bieber, there are a great amount of people looking to bridge the gap betweenclassical and "mainstream" music.  Youtube musicians Paul Dateh and Jason Yang are both classically trained violinists, yet they are branching out and exploring the worlds of hip hop and pop, while still keeping the integrity of their instruments, and especially with Mr. Dateh, adds little "hints" and easter eggs of classical riffs into his music.

So I guess what I'm saying is, instead of perpetuating the dichotomy, and resisting change, to try to incorporate different aspects into one's work.  Being one-dimensional is so boring.  I can appreciate just about anything from Lady Gaga to Samuel Barber, and I feel that I am better off because of it.

Gosh this became so rambly... Apologies, but please let me know what you think.  These are just things that I've experienced and are my opinons on the matter.

Oh hey....

Oh hi there.  Long time no see.  I've missed you.  Or something.

Though I'm very tempted to say that that picture has been indicative of my past semester, in reality I've been fortunate to be surrounded by a bunch of wonderful people that I can safely call my friends.  It's due to you guys that I have been able to get through the semeseter.  Even though some of those nights were spent procrastinating through various means, such as baking brownies and dinner dates, to making homemade whipped cream and bitching about life, to mad rushes to Burger King and those orgasmic fries, to laughing my ass off because of a voice immodulation...

The semester has been so good to me.  I had my first whole recital ever, I started a choir that put together a very successful concert, and I think I've figured out the rest of my life.  At least in college.  Maybe.

Also, apologies to the lack of posting toward the end of the semester.  I do this thing where I'm all like "oh yeah, I'm gonna be so proactive about everything FOREVER," when in reality I'll try half-heartedly to do something, and then procrastinate like it's my job, then throw everything to the wayside while I desperately try to catch up on essential things like schoolwork and sleep.



Did I tell you I found my first white hair this semester?

I can't believe it.  Although I've figured out that it's pretty much stress induced... But seriously, I already have such little hair as it is... Can a brotha get a break?

Will I go to hell for saying that?

Maybe, if I am unable to get my stress under control, I'll at least look hot, like this:

However, knowing me, I'll probably just look like this:

That is an actual artist's rendering (not really...)

But anyway, now that it's summer, I will have more time to update and such (to the nine of you that read this, I don't even know why I bother plugging this and such...).  It promises to be a pretty good one, and busy at that.  I'm staying with a couple of friends until an internship mid-June, and immediately after that one is done, I'm flying to Colorado to help out at a children's choral festival.  After that I fly home, where I'm preparing yet another recital with a couple of my friends, and then I'm flying out to Oregon in August to participate in another conducting workshop.  After that I'll be bumming around with friends in Oregon and Chicago until school starts back up in the fall.

All in all, I have no idea how I'm going to sleep ever.

I'm also hoping to slowly get more active.  I know I've said this multiple times (perhaps just to myself and not necessarily on here), but I am really going to make a concentrated effort!  Besides me being a shallow bitch and being hyper-critical of everything, my back problems have had a tendency to flare up...

That plus the discovery of the two white hairs has led me to believe that I'm actually about 68 years old.

I even had a dream about discovering another white hair that was like right in front of my face!  It was so vivid, and I remember it even being pretty painful when I went to yank it out...

Wait, was that even a dream, or did that just happen last week?


I really can't remember.


I think I've lost my mind.

I am Psychotic

Caution: I don't know how entertaining this will be for you all - This will be a bit of a rant/stream of consciousness type of deals.  Sooooo if you don't want to hear me bitchin', then don't read on!  Ya dig? :)

I have often wondered at times if I was at all even the slightest bit autistic.  I have a brother with autism, and while I love him to death, it has been tough at times, even though he is VERY high functioning (I shudder to think of what would have happened if he was even the slightest bit worse...).  I was a very awkward kid, and looking back now, a lot of those bouts of awkwardness can be explained by some of the symptoms of at least asperger's syndrome (having a brother with autism and a high school interest in psychology has made me fairly critical of social situations).


It's probably not, and it's more likely that I'm just some kind of REE-cluse (not rehcluse, as everyone else says) that will end up as a hermit in the woods.  Maybe then I can grow out a long Asian goatee and change the lives of anyone brave enough to seek me out...  That would be the life.........

One of the things that I notice about my social interactions is that I can only handle eye-contact for a limited amount of time, especially if I'm meeting someone new, and ESPECIALLY during a handshake.  I know, I know, it's supposed to be "manlier" if you have a firm grip WHILST maintaining eye contact, but a small part of me is always going to be all like "oh my god what if I miss I would look so embarrassed... Ok, ok, you can do this... grab the hand, good!  Now shake it firmly, NOT TOO FIRMLY!  Ok, that's over wi- crap...

And no eye contact.

Now, normally that would be it.  Normally I can control my want to look away from someone and have a normal conversation and carry on a fairly successful social life (I think).  I can be myself (or at least, a filtered version of myself) and have real friends and be perfectly comfortable around people!

*side note* I just had a freudian slip right then when I was typing the word "comfortable."  I subconsciously put an "un" prefix to the word.  Awkward...........

Anyway, normally I can carry on some decent conversations.  Unless one of a couple things happens.

1) I run into someone I dislike
2) I run into someone I find attractive
3) I run into someone I have a crush on

After that, ALL bets are off, and I am reduced to a bumbling idiot.  Not only do I go into a hermit shell that I craft from pure aura, I seal it off by constantly looking away from the person and only giving one word answers.

It's a problem.

I also do this thing where if I'm in a one on one situation with someone, I NEVER know how to start conversations.  Especially if the people I am with are naturally quiet.

I am a good listener.

I am NOT a good talker.

Guess which one I am?

ANYWAY

It's not so much that I'm shy, it's the fact that when I perceive of something awkward, I feel the need to try to think of things to fill said silence...

EXCEPT I NEVER SETTLE ON ONE THING

My mind will just be a flurry of motion while I try to think of things to say, and then it gets even more awkward because the other person can TELL that I'm thinking of something to say and obviously failing.

Honestly, I'd try to provide you with a little example of my inner dialogue, but everything is just so scattered that I just can't.  I can't even remember half the sheiss that I think.

Yikes.

Well, this is getting a little long, and I've since lost track of what I was going to type, which is frustrating, because I think there was more I was going to say (gag me with a spoon).

So yeah.

BYE!

I'm Gonna Be Selfish For A Change!

Tonight I had my junior recital.

It went ok.

Just kidding.

I had a BLAST doing it!

Although there were a few moments while I was performing that I was literally going "ohshitohshitIreallyhopethesearetherightwordspleaseohpleaseletthembetherightwords...." over and over and over in my head.  Luckily they were.

And Oh My God you guys I was able to do musical theatre without looking like an emotionless brick out there!  :0

But seriously... This whole process has been amazing, and it was so fulfilling to be able to stand up there and present everything that I had learned.  This really has been a sort of culmination of my college career, and I'm glad to be able to do it in such a place where people not only want to come, but are REQUIRED to come because of recital attendance.

To everyone who was involved, Caroline, Keith, Esther, Marika, and countless others - I thank you from the bottom of my heart (god this sounds like an Oscars speech...).

I really hope that everyone who came tonight enjoyed themselves.  I really didn't want it to be another one of those programs that you fall asleep 10 minutes in and then wake up 10 minutes later and haven't missed a thing.  I'd like to think that my program was a bit more entertaining than that.

I'm so glad that my mother and brother were able to make the trip out here.  It was so great to see them!  And I know that I am very shy and they never hear me sing, so it was really nice to have them there in the audience to see what all I actually do with my life.

Well it's now 3:15 in the morning and I am thoroughly delirious.  Again, I had so much fun, and I hope everyone who came out did as well!

Byebye!

Musical Shenanigans

Today I had my junior recital jury.  This was a presentation to the vocal faculty of my proposed recital program, which is a half an hour.  It was a little rocky in some spots (and I'm probably just being hyper-critical), but I passed!

 

 

I am so excited for my recital.  It chronicals three years worth of experience, and three different teachers!

WARNING: Lack of funny imminent in the following paragraphs.  Proceed with caution.  If you wish to skip to funnier material, scroll down to the next image.

I started off with Dr. Kyle Ferrill, a man who really took my voice and made it go from, quite frankly, crap, to winning first place at my first Regional NATS competition.  I think it was he who first got me turned on to the art of the artsong (hah, repetition).  Without his experience, I'm not sure where I would be right now...

My sophomore year I had Dr. Matthew Markham, a really amazing, adorable man whose passion just exudes from his presence.  He took my love of music and helped me to explore what I really wanted to study.  It was this year that I really found that I love singing artsong, as well as exploring different languages and styles.  My program for my sophomore proficiency consisted of seven songs in six different languages, English, French, German, Italian, Hawaiian, and Czech.  I was going to have another one in Russian, but because of times sake, we had to cut it.

Speaking of the proficiency, I have thought long and hard about the results of that.  At first, I was as angry I'd imagine Pikachu after being cooped up in that tiny little Pokeball for lord knows how long.  However, after I got to thinking about it, I realized that the BMA degree was really a much better choice than the performance degree.  Sure, it was definitely a blow to my ego, but looking back at it, I really have no desire to do ANY kind of operatic roles in the future, and there really isn't any money in being a recitalist...  And here's where I may have, in my fury, jumped to a couple of conclusions.  The reason for my not passing was not because of any politics involved, however much I may have thought.  Looking back, and hearing my voice then compared to now, I simply wasn't ready.  Also, it is just a much wiser move for me to make, because the BMA allows me to mirror as much of the perofrmance degree as I want, and I also have room to not take certain classes (like opera literature... barf), and it will also allow me to minor in Japanese, a language that I have long had an interest in.

Going into this year was a very exciting process.  I was able to get Caroline Smith as my teacher, who is a goddess among men.  She has really taken my voice and allowed it to blossom.  I do not know where I would be without her.  It has been so much fun, and though I may be hypercritical of myself at times, she will never yell at me or get mad at me.

It's getting late, and I'm getting sleepy, so I really can't figure out a way to transition my thoughts at all.  I think I'll leave by saying that my recital is on Monday, March 14th at 7:30 at Thompson Recital Hall.

It will be fun.  And it's on Pi day.  So there will by pie.

In other news, I have been following this website called foodporndaily.com, and it really makes me want to become a food photographer.  Go check out that site and I defy you to tell me that you did not sprout a half-chub.

Ok, that's enough of me making a fool out of myself.

Bye!

Life-like Shenanigans

So... I should be studying my Japanese for the grammar quiz tomorrow, but I thought, "that's boring... Let's make a blog post!"

So here we are.

There is sooooo many... interesting... things going on with this choir that I'm starting!  It's extrEMELY hard to get 9 college music students to pin down a time to rehearse... Everyone is sooo busy!  I'm not faulting them by any means, and these things happen, but it just gets kind of frustrating.  I already had to tell one person that it would be too hard because of her schedule, and I feel terrible about it.  Here's hoping that no one else does that!  First (official) rehearsal is going to be this week come hell or high water (I'm personally hoping for high water, because hell just sounds unpleasant...)

In other news, I moved!  For you DePauw-ites, I moved from Senior Hall to one of the duplexes on Jackson St... For you non-DePauw-ites, I moved from a shitty dorm to a less shitty apartment.

As much as I just LOVED hearing the people upstairs of me "back that ass up, back that, back that ass up," it just wasn't cutting it for me.

And now I can actually cook for myself!  I'm getting off the meal-plan!  Tonight I made a delicious chicken dish that involved cubing a breast (of chicken, you perverts), soaking it in a mix of soy sauce and "Italian Seasoning," which consists of oregano, thyme, rosemary and sage (all that's missing is the parsley, right?  Har har...).  Then I sliced some onion and a couple cloves of garlic and put it all into my gigantic wok.  Then I put it over a bed of steamed rice.  It was sooo delicious.  Looking forward to more great food!  I also want to get back to baking, so let me know your favorite desserts and I'll make them for you!

Oh my gosh you guys my recital is coming up and I'm SO FREAKIN' EXCITED!  I was gonna wait but I just can't anymore - I'm gonna show you the poster for it.

Credit to Morgan Burke for making the poster.

Of course, it'll be super embarrassing if I fail my recital jury and then will have to be like "um... the recital is now moved" and all but you know what some people are gonna call me cocky for putting out the poster super early like this and they'll just have to DEAL WITH IT.

So yeah, you all should come.  That's the moral of that story.

BAI BAI.

Food Poisoning, Pt. 2

So I have food poisoning.  Again.  A little over a month since I've had it for the first time.  I've come to the conclusion that my body hates me.

Have you ever gotten the feeling that you're so hungry that you feel nauseous?  That happened to me tonight...  I ate a PB&J at around 10:00 PM and apparently since that's like the only solid thing I've eaten in the past two days, my body thinks that it is morning when really it is 12:21 AM and I need to sleep because I'd at least like to show up to class SOMETIME in my college career...

On top of that, my body is doing things to me that I shudder to mention on this blog or Facebook or Twitter or whatever else social media that I have been enslaved to.

I guess the bright side to all this is that I'm garnering the sympathy of everyone around me, right?  Oh, and that I've had two days of class missed (soon to be three).  It's like another Icepocalypse, only with my body!

...

Well, this is an awkward way to end a blog post...

Bye!

My Favorite Word

Shenanigans

I Love My Friends

I am sitting here writing this - amidst a bunch of drinking (all overage, of course...), and I am just overwhelmed by the power of friendship.  I know, it's cheesy... But nonetheless.  From hanging out on the back porch smoking hookah and watching branches fall due to the Icepocalypse to watching people of age do a power hour...  It's been a great evening.  I am so lucky to call these people my friends.  It's just really nice to know that people care about you, you know?  Maybe that's just because my self-esteem is so low that I'll take anything I can get, but hey, everyone loves compliments right?

As Dean said: "Here's your gay tip of the week.  Compliment EVERYBODY.  It doesn't matter if you like them or not, everyone loves compliments.  'Oh my gosh, that sweater is soooo flattering on you!'"

Anyway, I hope all of your nights are filled with "fabulousness!"

Friends are Forever!