Antitheses

Opposite to the other, yet they remain in me. Simultaneously and side by side.
All a part of the experience of life.
and all a part of this soul's definition.

Perduta ho la speranza in voi mirare,
e di speranza sola nutrivo il core.
Ahimè! Ah! come farò, se per amare,
la fede ho già smarrita,
la fede nell'amore?
Perduta ho la speranza in voi mirare,
e di speranza sola nutrivo il core!


Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.


O del mio amato ben perduto incanto!
Lungi è dagli occhi miei
chi m'era gloria e vanto!
Or per le mute stanze
sempre lo cerco e chiamo
con pieno il cor di speranze?
Ma cerco invan, chiamo invan!
E il pianger m'è sì caro,
che di pianto sol nutro il cor.

Mi sembra, senza lui, triste ogni loco.
Notte mi sembra il giorno;
mi sembra gelo il foco.
Se pur talvolta spero
di darmi ad altra cura,
sol mi tormenta un pensiero:
Ma, senza lui, che farò?
Mi par così la vita vana cosa
senza il mio ben.


A part of you has grown in me. And so you see,
it's you and me together forever and never apart,
maybe in distance, but never in heart.

Thought of the Day

"That's God gettin' ya."

Such a familiar phrase; my best friend uses it all the time when random, funny and often painful things happen. I used to hate it; maybe I thought it was blasphemous. Anyway... Sometimes I wonder what I need to learn from them.

Just as the knees were almost up to par, the TMJ acted up. Just as that ended, I started muscle spasms in my upper back and neck.



It came to the point Friday where I had to stop my piano trio in the middle of a performance, and walk out. The pain was unbearable, and the playing, impossible.

I've never had to do that.

Slight blow to the pride, but I don't feel too badly about it. There are so many other things in life that are far more significant than one failed performance.

There has been one cure all for this--service.

No matter how poor my spirits are, I only have to help someone in an appreciable way. It usually solves the problem right quick...

So, try it! You'll like it!

Expert Ignorance

A family friend offered me a note with several numbers on it. They belong to some string players; he thought I would be interested in playing music with them.

This sort of thing has happened before, and more often than not, they haven't been superb players. I truly enjoy making music and having fun with different players from all walks of life, but sometimes I feel as if I'm in a spelling bee with first graders. (I've been on the first-grade side quite a few times myself.)

An elitist? Not at all. I rehearse and perform for hours each day with so many talented musicians, and I've been privileged to do so. I think sometimes people don't understand what I do for this major, for this profession, and for this love of music.

I wonder if I flaunt as much ignorance when I offer an opinion on an English major's composition as they would offering editorial advice for my orchestral scores.

Probably... any judgment would be well deserved

I suppose I'll keep my opinions to myself.

For It's Sake

I adore performing. Whether it's music, presenting, public speaking or just being around people, I enjoy it.

I've often thought about what makes a person a performer. Is it a desire for recognition? A twisted take on the "words of affirmation" love language? A desire to prove something perhaps?

To be honest, I don't have the answer tonight...

I do know this about music performance: I love music more than I can say in words. I hear it when I sleep, during the lucid moments between dreams and consciousness and during the day while I move from task to task.

I adore writing and literature, science, linguistics, art, and so on, but music touches me in a way nothing else does--save certain scents and flavors.

Because music touches me so deeply as to leave an incredibly long lasting impression, I often desire to share what I am able to experience with others. When I can sing or play something that is able to truly touch others in the way it does me, I'm a happy camper.

So there it is... Music performance for the love of sharing music.

As for the other aspects of performance, I'll be looking into that fulfilling the "words of affirmation" bit.

Until next time...

Year of Years

So, it looks like I'm going to be working for the next year and three or so months. It's a bit of a blessing really, I'll be able to save enough for four years of graduate studies, get a new car, and travel the world for a while.

I was reflecting back on the last 4 years; I like what I have done, where I've been and what I've become. A person would be foolish to ask for better friends.

Now... I'd better make sure to keep up on the cello, lest I become a statistic like so many of my peers.

ps. The Concerto Aria Concert should be just about fantastic. Everyone should come.

Temporomandibular

Say that five times fast...

I have this little dysfunction with my temporomandibular joint. Sometimes; and I mean sometimes, it becomes inflamed, painful, uncooperative, and the all around bad guy.

Behold the bad guy of our story:



There hasn't been any pain in the joint for about three years, but it started a couple days ago.

I'm wondering if I'm just aging at an accelerated rate. It seems that as soon as one thing is better another rears it's head.

Well, that's the news for this morning... I'm going to find some ibuprofen.

Of Strings and Sweets

Ladies and gentlemen. It is my pleasure to announce a successful Valentine's Day weekend. There was dinner and swing/ballroom dancing to a 16 piece band, all with the finest friends. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea--Kirk Douglas was quite a stud. There were two versions of Jane Eyre (yes I do appreciate the book and countless remakes.)

Of course, what the day be without gifts? Yes friends, sometimes the best gift is the one you give yourself.



It's a handy-dandy brand new little giant 12-string. Perfect for those performances where six strings just won't cut it and anything more would just be crazy.

I also made a stop by the local See's for yet another thoughtful gift.



Ok, I know what you're thinking... just a step above pathetic. I understand, but must respectfully disagree. I rather like my gifts to me... they're so much better a flaming bag of used dog food.

And now a word to the wise:

Oh, remember young men, flowers and other sincere gestures are to be used sparingly, lest you find the above mentioned flaming bag on your doorstep.

Death of a Businessman

It was fall 2006. I started school as a business major and a first time freshman. I'd been out the the game for a while, but wanted the college experience. I knew I'd never be able to discover what it was like if I didn't try it for myself, and it has been one of the best decisions of my life.

I auditioned for the Symphony because it had been 7 years since I'd played in high school and I actually missed playing with an orchestra. It only snowballed from there. More music classes, more opportunities to play. More skills built, scholarships awarded and now I'm graduating with a music degree. Cello/vocal performance and choral conducting. I'm the principal cellist in the Chamber Orchestra, student conductor in the Chamber Choir, member of the honors vocal double quartet, and a participant in many other projects and performing groups.

It's not bragging, it's just an insight. I've been incredibly blessed to be able to study what I love and earn a living too. (I absolutely love my job which, has almost nothing to do with my studies.)

What a time I've had. I studied this last year for the LSAT. I did well in my studies, but was guided to music yet again. Funny how that works...

Not performing or teaching anymore would be like death. Music is an inextricable part of my life now... Who knew?

Anyway... Masters in cello is coming up soon; I can't wait.

Sitcom a Day

I was considering the fact that there are far too many stories for this little neglected blog, so there will be a new home for them here starting today.

Sitcom Moments

Here is the sitcom story of the day.

I suppose I should explain... A dear friend once "accused" me of having a movie life. I do try my best to excel in whatever I'm doing so I suppose that makes for some interesting stories-especially when I fall flat on my face. Metaphorically speaking of course.

Anyway...

Here is her sitcom/movie moment:

Our dear friend was looking for a parking spot at UVU; of course, anyone who has ever parked there knows what a nightmare trying to find a stall can be.

Often, it becomes necessary wait like a vulture for some unfortunate creature to expire/leave campus. There are even those who wait by the doors, and follow people as they walk from the building to their cars.

On this day, my friend was following a man to his car. Everything was just swell, that is, until a black beast of a car came up to the spot, flashers glaring. The dear fellow motioned to the waiting car, and indicated that there was already someone waiting for the spot... No response... so he placed his bag in his car, walked away, and hid behind another car.

Still no movement from the black car. My friend gave up, drove away and then decided to come back for one last shot at that particular parking lot. Sure enough, the fine fellow was still crouched behind another car. Upon seeing her, he smiled, walked to his car and surrendered the in-demand stall.

Looking up, I see that this may not be the best writing of all time, but it's late and I'm not exceptionally worried about public opinion at this point. Feel free to put into a Seinfeld perspective if it helps...

Happy reading

End of the day

Graduation is coming soon.

I love my life in so many ways, and I'm more grateful that words can express for my family and dear friends. Concerto aria is coming up soon-that'll be fun. We did a fantastic performance in eastern Utah. Happiness is up, painful memories are down, and the days are getting longer.

Complicated You as written to a friend nearly four years ago. I never recorded it; the music was second rate anyway...

Till next time.

Complicated You

Complicated you, you gave your heart, gave your soul up to
someone new
But now you’re all alone; crying ever jaded
Your knew the time would come but it was so much easier to stay
than run
You’d even hope and pray that feelings hadn’t faded

Then you left and tried to leave the pain
But it would follow every step you’d take
Lesson learned in never knowing what lay just ahead
Or how to hold to love despite the battle in your head

Now it’s been so long; you’re tired—worn out from always
being strong
And then you finally break from always trying to save it
Ever more to ache, ever in hurting in anguish,
enduring shame
And then on fallen knees you pray that you can make it.

Left a life, a home, a broken soul to heal
Every moment hiding how you feel
Haunting memories of joy haven't known since then
Always dreaming just to wake up all alone again.

Pick yourself up
And dream
Lift up your eyes
And see.
Just a short time
To try
And forget each time
You cried

When you find the dawn, reach out, grip tight and just
hold on
Never let it go, the tunnel dark is ending
Just stay on the road; soon the day will come when you can
let it go
And then you’ll feel the warmth the sun is always sending

One day you’ll look back from the light of the springtime
maybe even laugh
At the winter gone and sorrows you were tending.

Puppies and Kittens

After reading a friends post, and after agreeing with her, I will tell you a story.

Jimmy was going to be a new dad. Jimmy was going to have a new little girl.

Jimmy's little girl was born, and as is always the case, her head was slightly... out of shape. Jimmy looked as if he'd just seen the alien come out of John Hurt - in the less serious Spaceballs version of course.

The nurses reassured him that it just needed to be pushed back and that it would be fine, but there was no doubt in Jimmy's mind that babies are not pretty.

FIN

Puppies and kittens and children are always cuter after they start walking on their own.

The 'few months later' comment is also warranted. Here is my ever-so-cute niece 'a few months later.'

Grateful

It is the 27th, technically. Thanksgiving Day, 2009 has passed.

Here are the things I am most grateful for.

-My savior

-My family

-My intelligence

-Trials so severe, so traumatic and so painful that leaving the world would have been sweet relief --I learned more than many do in a lifetime.

-Shelter and food enough to make weight gain a concern

-Modern technology and all the conveniences it brings

-Music, music, music

-The greatest and most caring friends a person could wish for

-My best friend, who has been my strength for so long.

A Thought.

A friend asked me why I believed a certain film would cause more damage than people realized. The film was called New Moon.

I believe one of the many reasons people suffer from poor relationships and broken marriages, is simply because of a lack of real communication skills caused in part by gathering poor examples from television dramas and full-length feature films.

So many people do not realize what damage is being done. They simply don't seem to see how detrimental it will be to their relationships, and families-current or future.

There is so much more to be said, and so much more that I ponder on which will have to wait, but my thoughts have been on how to write on this subject for much of the day.

Much more enlightenment seems to come from conversation than writing alone.

Falling

Strange how spending a few years in an undergraduate program can mold thinking.

Looking at past posts, they really reflect little of my personality and what I think about the during the course of a day.

It contains little snippets of rantings, and only the thoughts that can be revealed without letting any common passerby into my soul.

I have a friend whose work seems to make a difference to people, He travels a great deal and seems to always have meaningful and uplifting things to write about.

I find myself stuck in a music program that isn't exactly conducive to this type of work. My work takes me many places, but I don't always feel fulfilled. I don't often feel I've made a great difference in anyone's life.

The performance world can be like that I suppose. My greatest joy comes from creating something that uplifts and heals; I've fallen miserably short in the past few years. I've been concentrating too much on me; perhaps it has been in order to keep a few readers thinking I have a sense of humor.

Perhaps it's for the sake of having a place to vent when the shallow and less-important thoughts need an outlet.

Soundproof

I travel quite frequently and airports usually have little glass cages, complete with dedicated ventilation systems to keep a particular breed of migrating wildlife from causing mass disturbance with their habits.

I am speaking of smokers. Not that they are bad people... I have some very dear friends who smoke like chimneys and I love them just the same. That said, I do not like or condone their habits.

I work and strive to make sure I'm clean and presentable each and every day. It's is just one notch below infuriating when someone lights up, allowing their disdainful smoke to pollute my clothing, hair, and nostrils.


I relate the above wildlife with those common in Utah Valley. I am referring of course, to those accompanied by rambunctious children.

That said, I love children. I adore children! They are (hopefully) open, inquisitive, honest, loving, and innocent.

but...

Small children do NOT belong in formal performances.

It is one notch above infuriating to have hours of work, backed by years of toil and training required to perform, reduced to a cacophony of chords and crying.

Perhaps parents don't understand what work is put into the craft. Perhaps they are so used to the distracting noises they don't notice. Perhaps they are just less intelligent that most.

The problem will never simply vanish, so I propose that:

- Every new venue and performance hall constructed in the state of Utah shall include a glass confine complete with soundproof glass and dedicated ventilation and sound monitors.

- All persons accompanied by young children shall remain in said confine with their children until the conclusion of performance.

- All persons wearing unusually large skirts or overcoats may be subject to search to avoid infiltration by young persons hiding in said skirts or overcoats. Large bags may also be subject to search.

- Persons insisting on speaking during performances will be required to remain with children in the confine until they discontinue acting like children.

- Persons clapping in between movements may also be required to remain in the confine.

- Persons using cell phones in any way - excepting sound recording - shall be removed from the performance immediately.

Ok... I'm done.

Forgive me if I offend, perhaps I just don't understand...

Perfect

Mistakes...

Every once in a while a series of amateur mistakes nearly kills an entire performance. So it was on Saturday evening.

The Synergy Dance Company was putting on a production, and I was the cellist-a very important part. I don't add this to brag, I simply wish to reinforce the fact that a cello in a large ensemble with only one cello is not something to be taken lightly when a three-night run of a production is concerned...

Self-forgiveness for less-than-perfect performance is something that comes rather easily to me now, but for some strange reason, this one has been a little difficult.

Perhaps the unexpected check (six times what I was expecting) has left me feeling guilty for a less than stellar performance.

Perhaps my not properly preparing for that night is what "keeps me up at night."

Oh well... time to focus this energy into a strategy that will keep this from happening again.

These things remind me not to be too hard on myself:

- Henry Ford forgot to put a reverse gear on his first automobile.

- Albert Einstein’s parents were told he might be mentally retarded.

- Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team.

and of course...

"The greatest mistake you can make in life is to be continually fearing you will make one."

Elbert Hubbard (1856 - 1915)

Dreams a Plenty

I dream every night. Always vivid; always in full color; always...

Some are trivial, some are fun, some really hit home.

A couple nights ago, I dreamed I was in my front room. A very beautiful, very tall brown-haired girl was sitting next to me on the floor. I didn't look directly at her until I could see her looking at me. I looked up.

It was Rebecca, the girl I almost had the poor sense to marry, but who I had loved with all my heart.

Just a short sentence escaped her lips: "How are you?"

"Fine."

She then rose from her place and moved into the hall. I followed rather quickly, and stopped as she turned to face me.

From her came three more words: "I loved you."

Before I could plan anything better to say, words escaped from me: "I never did get over you..." Tears started their free-flow.

She looked up, moved toward me and we embraced as years of resentment, pain and misunderstanding melted away. I was happier than I have been for three and a half years.

Then I looked away for a moment; I looked at her once again. She was no longer there. Instead my best friend was standing in her place. She was smiling, and with a look of absolute joy on her face, asked if I really meant what I just said.

Nothing came from my mouth; nothing could. Words could not express what thought couldn't even define.

Then I awoke to a dark room.

A New Hope

One day while walking from class to the GT, I found myself following behind two people. One was a girl perhaps twenty years of age and a young man around the same age.

The girl was dressed as if she were going clubbing, and the kid was dressed in a similar fashion.

Usually the conversation goes something like this:

Boy: so, where are from. Like... around here or...

Girl: Yeah, here

Boy: that's cool, so do you like, have a lot of classes...

Girl: yeah

Boy: So... cool.

and so on and so forth. Boy is desperately trying to hold a conversation with Girl who - while likely a decent person - lacks the vocabulary to hold a proper conversation, or vice-versa.

Here is the conversation I overheard:

Girl: I think I'll do it, but it's like... so hard

Boy: yep

Girl: It's like, a long day.

Boy: You know what's funny? You have to walk to the bus.

Girl: You're so mean! (playfully)

Boy: So, do you think you're gonna make it with those stilts? (referring to her super-high cork-bottomed, high-fashion heels.)

Girl: You're so mean!

It was just refreshing to see a kid who didn't fall all over himself for a OC wannabe and who was unafraid to be himself.



p.s. cork platforms... Ugh.