Pump up the Noize

So, my neighbors suck. Big time. In fact, the current residential situation is a big blemish on the overall trajectory of scholastic completion. Looking forward: recital in 2 weeks, Brandenburg in 2.1 weeks, papers due, shit flying everywhere-it's crazy. So what time is better than now to tell a tenant, who has lived in the same apartment for 1.75 years that now is a great time to completely stop practicing in her apartment. Yes folks, now is that time for me. And frankly, I just want to kill the self-absorbed hyper sensitive thievish wench that lives below me. This shit is her fucking fault.

I never had a single noise complaint in the first year of living here. Seriously. Since this particular couple moved in downstairs, a whole new host of weird began to unfold. The woman likes to come upstairs every now and again and tell me how loud I'm being, either in my footsteps, toe-tapping, occasional dancing, or when I have guests over and they move the chairs. Frankly, this woman is the ultimate killjoy, and to make it worse, she's youngish and a huge hypocrite. The couple smokes pot often, and stinks up the whole building with a tangy aroma of marijuana mixed with cheap repulsive air freshener. They pump up the bass on their music, and I can hear them yelling at each other. But god forbid I walk across my apartment with shoes on. Or practice. Because I don't count and I am a selfish creature, like all people in their twenties.

Basically, this woman has completely ruined my current living situation, and I know that her behavior now legally qualifies as harassment. I've had enough and I'm conflicted about the best path to solve it. On one hand, I want to bitch her out next time she comes up here, since she basically bothers me every time I'm having an important musical day or social gathering. With my recital coming up, she'll surely come and tell me that I might have walked across the floor with heels on, right? Oh wait, she already did that on "Harold in Italy" day.

I want to take the moral high road on one hand, and stop a conflict. (That's the voice of buddhism telling me to not get angry.) On the other hand, I want to tell her how awful she's made me feel. (These leads to ideas about running the food processor on the floor of my apartment, or sending them "depends" samples.) Either way, she sucks. Management called on Friday to tell me that I have to practice in the Billiards room on the fifth floor and that the complains were not just from downstairs. I'd like to know how that's possible, since one of my neighbors was out of town all last week, and the other one plays drums and doesn't seem to mind. Either way, this shit sucks. I'm afraid to have people over, because she surely will come up and be a pain. I'm afraid to practice anywhere now, because I'm sure that some snotty person will come tell me to keep it down so they can still inside all day and watch television. Sorry to keep you from your daytime shows, folks! It's not like I pay anything to live here. I don't have rights.

Anyway, I'm going to go practice. In the billiards room. I'm still thinking about which samples to send for. Adult toys? Drug addiction? Super creepy Christian literature? Anything's game. I just have to hope that next year, I'll live in a truly haven for musicians.

listening to: the new mgmt album "Congratulations"

When Did Being Weird Become Mainstream?

Inspired by a recent issue of Bust magazine, I ask the question-when did being weird become the norm? Case in point: the article was called "Weird Sister: Why Lady Gaga is a Superstar for our Time." Let me just give you some of the salient details of the article. Here's the opening line:

It's 2010, and we still haven't gotten our flying cars or robot servants, but by God, we have Lady Gaga as proof that the future has arrived...The world of the past thought Bjork's swan dress at the 2001 Oscars was a fashion "faux pas," but now we live in the FUTURE, we can accept someone like Lady Gaga for who she is: a weirdo. That's right, the former Stefani Germanotta is the first weirdo-American woman to achieve major pop-star success.

So when did our tolerance for weird change? In the past, ladies like Cyndi Lauper and Courtney Love were seen as crazy and creepy and weird, either because of their raging drug habits combined with overly depressing lyrics, or just their bizarre fashion sense. But lately, it seems that celebrities everywhere are getting weird, and people are loving it. Let's just take a quick look at some of the "weird" and crazy folks and occurrences of the last few years:

*the hipster movement- more on this another time, but basically, the idea is to be as invididual and unique as possible, while shopping from the Goodwill chiffarobe and drinking espresso. (Yes, tights with shorts are a brilliant idea, as long as the shorts are high waist, ripped, and the tights are slightly see-through.)

*Crazy ass celebrities with bizarre lives-scientology as a mainstream actor religion? Seriously? (Created by a sci-fi writer?)

*Strangely Morbid Television Shows: Dexter, True Blood...apparently being into death is no longer goth, it's mainstream! Thanks, Twilight!

*High profile crimes as comedy: Dexter, Weeds, Breaking Bad. Selling weed, making Meth, and being a serial killer is mainstream these days, apparently.

*the death of Michael Jackson-the king of weird has passed. lady gaga has taken the baton.

(misshapen plastic surgery people populating this earth freak me out as well).

*Geek as mainstream cultural icon. Seriously.

*American Idol is still syndicated on television, and people still watch it. Didn't that show pretty much kill music as we know it?

*Gagaism #5000: "I hope when I'm dead, I'll be considered an icon."

While this is not by any means all encompassing, it seems that being weird is the way to go these days. Granted, the youth have been apportioning unfortunate style choices for decades, so that, in itself, is not so strange. Weird and crazy has always been around-it just seems that mainstream america is embracing it, right after they finish watching glee. is that so strange? either way, it makes me feel better about occasionally being awkward. I'm just trying to make it big.

What to do with my life. Or at least the next year.

I have been in a bit of a quandary these last few weeks because I simply have no idea what I exactly want from my life, musically and professionally, and because I have to make some decisions on these matters by tomorrow. The current dilemma is deciding whether or not to go to NEC for a grad diploma with Roger Tapping.

Pro's: He's a great teacher, it's a super strong string program, I could make some excellent connections for life after school in Boston, and I would probably have some good performance opportunities and teaching opportunities. I have many friends who would be at NEC, which shouldn't sway things, but it does anyways. I'll be in Boston, which is a dream come true between choice markets, great shows, yoga, etc. It's what I've been missing these last two years.

Con's: Money-I'd have to take out $20 thousand in loans. Being in school-do I really want/need to be in school in order to learn and be a better musician? Do I really want to stay in the day to day grind of mandatory events like orchestra and occasional class? Is school really the only way to make professional connections in Boston? And, of course, the clincher-what do I actually want from classical music, as a career?

This last bit is perhaps the most troubling, since I don't exactly know anymore. I mean, I've never really "known" what my 30 year plan is, professionally, but I've had great spurts of activity and inspiration, which led to brief flirtations with musicology, college teaching, and orchestral jobs. None of those really hold true now (today, although that may change) although I am still very much interested in teaching as a facet of my career. Though for now, I think I've heard enough suzuki twinkles for this calendar year. In an entirely fictional life plan, in which cost and connections are no object, I would like to be a versatile musician-I'd like to play with a few bands, play in a contemporary music ensemble, teach, and possibly teach yoga or do baking. However, I haven't exactly got the logistics of that dream worked out. The question that Molly asked me last week was apt," the question to ask is what do you want to do with your life and how will the gd help you get there. if it won't or you can't answer the question, it's not worth it."

Can I answer that question, what to do with my life? Yes/no/sort of. What will the GD do for me? It will make me a better violist and teacher. It will give me more professional connections in a place that I might actually want to live in, unlike Rochester. It will give me some really performance opportunities that have been severely lacking here in Upstate New York Hell. But really, do I need to be in a viola performance incubator to just get better? Is going to school for a bullshit degree just a stupid way to buy time before actually dealing with careers and life? Yes. Definitely.

It's been a tricky thing lately, because I've been getting such conflicted commentary on the matter- I know it's still an honor of sorts to get into NEC, even if I went there before, and I know that there are other people who would love to go there and can't. I also know that the money is definitely an inconvenience now, but that there are other means to paying it off and that I won't be saddled with the debt for life. Carol thinks going back to school is a dumbass idea. On one side, I agree. However, I do worry about what exactly I'd be doing with myself if I weren't in school-many of the local orchestras have auditions in the spring now, and I don't know that I could get a decent enough job, teaching or otherwise, to pay for rent and life, or that I'd have time to practice. Carol also is operating under the view that I want to get a doctorate right away, which is definitely not the plan. Or that I could stay in Rochester and teach for a year, which is possibly the worst idea ever. I know my mom's a bit worried that I'll just lose my viola chops if I'm not in school, or that I'll be working a dead-end job and lose my musical aspirations, although she's not exactly the best source on musical career knowledge.

Between pressure from friends on both sides and everyone's continued advice, I'm torn as to what to do. I still haven't heard back from some of the random things I applied to for next year, so things are a bit up in the air, but a part of me feels like I should just send in my deposit tomorrow, and deal with the consequences later. Or just not go if some awesome thing happens in my life. Completely rejecting the offer is a bit terminal, and that scares me. Deferring is still a possibility, and I still haven't found out if RT would give me lessons if I wasn't in school. All two of my options scare me right now, and I never would have guessed how difficult the decision would be. However, many of my friends have offered the advice that, "whatever you decide to do will be the right decision." I hope they're right.

Obsession

So I have been going through my quarterly or biannual "band/indie rock music obsession" phase, which usually occurs on breaks from school, when I indulge in non classical music in excess. This particular binge is thanks to last week's concert, and the hope that I will attend some good shows in the summer, before Canada, part 9. (I've been to Canada 8 or 9 times since I moved to the Roch.) Anyway, on the same line, I had the weirdest dream about the band Grizzly Bear last night, and a less weird one about Vampire Weekend.

In my dream, Grizzly Bear, whose members are moderately clean-cut looking, showed up at the church where I did my Easter gig (Lutheran something in Pittsford) and looked kinda crazy and manic, in that their facial hair was out of control and they looked homeless. They sat in the choir loft, and instead of singing, they read 'the Lorax' for the children's service component. I asked them if they would sing, and the drummer said that it was too early in the morning for their vocal chords to be warmed up. I was really bummed, of course, but I told them that it was fine. Then, the dream gets a little hazy, and I did something really cool or wore something really cool, and the lead singer, Ed Droste, told me I was one of the coolest fans ever, and that I deserved 22 points. (For what?? I don't know.) He said there was some kind of national competition for fans, and that I was a medal contender. (Significance of 22? No idea.) The band then told me that they were going to Cleveland, and that I should go to the show, and that if I was a winner, I would get to go to the Wisconsin show too. That's all I remember. Weird. It definitely has some vague connection with the "Two Weeks" video, which is filmed in a church, and the fact that John and I were discussing the complications of Catholicism before bed. (John is MJ's boyfriend, and we were just having a light chit-chat about how sometimes throwing in Jesus and God references can really taint a spiritually informative homily or sermon.)

I also, in the same evening, had a sweet dream in which I wrote Vampire Weekend a letter, they wrote me back, but at MJ's mom's address in Byfield, MA, and told me that they wanted to hire a personal assistant/musician to do fill work. It was a far less descriptive dream, but equally rewarding. I dropped out of NEC and moved to Brooklyn to live in a closet and cook, clean, and play viola lines. It was dreamy.

currently listening to: Gorillaz, "Plastic Beach".

Currently contemplating: My future. I.e., what the f*$% am I going to do next year. More on that next time.

Currently baking: Sage shortbread and matcha cookies for MJ's recital tomorrow. Success stories and recipes to follow.

I wonder what exciting thing will happen today

Easter service mimosas. Need I say more? I had a sweet morning gig today at a Lutheran church, and I got to witness my first Easter day service. (I was one of the few people in the world raised entirely without any spiritual or religious tradition whatsoever, so I have a strange perspective on these things.) While I always have a hard time with some aspects of Christianity (like J.C., and capitalizing the word "He" while speaking), there are some really beautiful, loving, and heartwarming parts, at least in my opinion. If I allow myself to forget the language in which the text is embedded (Only those who love HIM will be in the kingdom of heaven) and instead focus on the spiritual parts (Live your life so that the world cries and you can rejoice for a life fully lived), I do pretty well. The first church service was at 8:30, the second at 11 AM, and we had to be there at 7:45, so it was pretty rough at first. We played some movements from a Vivaldi Gloria, and hymns and stuff. Nothing tough. The first service was a challenge, in terms of being awake and functional, and the whole service was almost like another rehearsal: the sermon was not amazing, there weren't that many people there, and the whole experience was just ok. But after our halftime break (when the kids when on the easter hunt and we all drank mimosas and soy latte's), it was an astonishing change in scene. The sermon was really impressive and powerful, and I found myself writing down some nice phrases in my moleskine. (yes, I'm a wannabe hipster.)
One of the things that the pastor talked about today was living life fully, something that is always a topic of conversation in Buddhism and other spiritual traditions. This usually comes across through focusing on the breath, or developing a keener awareness of the present moment. In Buddhism, we tend to believe that humanity is asleep, living in a dream of dulled sensations and awareness, and that in order to make a change in behavioral patterns, we have to become aware of them, and aware of ourselves. The most direct way to do that for some is meditating, yoga, tai chi, or a host of other contemplative practices. Those have been my means, but it was so refreshing to hear of a Christian tradition discussing daily living.
Today he talked about the circuitous mind patterns we indulge in "If only...then I'd be happy" in which we bemoan the current situation and blame our mental state on it. The pastor's response was, rather than asking "Why me?" that we instead ask, "What does this mean and how can I better serve God?" Erasing the God part, at least for me, I replaced it instead with "What does this mean, and how can I better serve humanity? What part of my life am I not living?" and that works just fine. Rather than make excuses for our emotional states, we can approach conflicts with a curiosity rather than firm judgment, and a simple awareness of the situation, whether pleasant, neutral or negative.
Another thing I really like this morning was this story from Winnie-the-pooh in which Piglet asks Pooh what he thinks of when he wakes up. Pooh replies, "What I'm eating for breakfast." Piglet says instead, "I wonder every morning what exciting thing will happen today."
Well, that's just awesome. It's a weird reminder that day to day life can be exuberant and joyful, rather than a monotony, and that each minute is an opportunity that someone else wishes they had. Love and happiness are available to us to give or receive at every moment, whether you believe in J.C. or not, and it is always nice to be reminded of this.

Also, the gig was awesome, simply because I got to improvise (with the youth group played a Latin song about Christ having risen) and I spontaneously played some solo Bach as a prelude and I owned that shit and I love it when you play in a church and everyone is just so gosh darn happy to have you there.


listening to: a dash of animal collective and mia. my hard drive failed on my macbook, so i'm not sure how my monstrous music collection fared on my external drive.

Vampire Weekday, or Please Don't Talk To Me, I'm Busy Watching My Celebrity Crush

As many of you know, I went to Toronto on Tuesday for a most excellent concert by one of my favorite bands, Vampire Weekend. My love for specific bands usually goes in 1-2 month chunks- I'll get really obsessed with something for a while, then move on and temporarily forget about them, and rediscover them a few months later. Such is the case with many of my favorite groups, including V.W. My boss at the Boston Public Library first introduced them to me in the summer of 2008, so there are songs that I strangely associate with the city of Newton, MA, where I was residing at the time. I forgot about them for a year or so, then they released their new album this year- the single "Cousins" was take it or leave it for me, so I wasn't totally sold, but I had hope in their abilities, and I wasn't disappointed. Anyway, in February, when I coincidentally discovered that I had not passed prescreening at Colburn (WTF, but whatever) I decided I needed to be bold and highly decadent, and buy tickets to see a show. Thus this event came to pass. (I realize that's a lot of random backstory. Sorry)

Anyway, the bottom line is that the show was amazing- their music is really fun and energetic- it always makes me think of summer and drinking red stripe. I don't know that I would ever have a deep spiritual epiphany as a result of them, but it's just fun and interesting music. The show was very carefully crafted- they played most of the songs off the two albums, and the performance was mostly very similar to the actually albums. There weren't a lot of variations in terms of improvising solos, fills, and whatnot, but somehow that was mostly ok. What I was most excited about though, was the fact that the lead singer can actually sing. Many times, I am totally disappointed in bands when they play live, or even on TV, because I see how much post-production editing takes place. But this was the real deal. (And he was cuter in real life too.) The other thing that was so interesting to realize is that there was a certain masked sense of insecurity that was hidden in the show. These guys aren't that old- maybe all 24-26, and it was so interesting to see them project a certain confidence that was necessary, but at the same time a reserved nature underneath. I almost enjoyed knowing that the most. It was so interesting to realize that for all the praise we give bands and celebrities, they are still complicated people behind the projected persona. I can't really explain what exactly they did or didn't do that made me feel that way, it was probably something I just noticed as a fellow performer. It was like they could be courageous while performing, but as soon as they had to address 3,000 people, they were a little cautious, perhaps for good reason. Either way, it was fascinating.
We also went to an afterparty of sorts, which could have been more amazing, if we had had more cash...argh. So we had heard of a top secret afterparty in which the bassist would be DJ-ing, and we had only taken out about $60 Canadian for the day. We ended up spending a bunch of it on the taxi to get there, and then the cover fee for the party. We go in, and we see the lead singer (aka. my big celebrity crush) bartending. And we proceed to flip out. We don't want to seem too anxious and needy (MJ and I, that is), especially since we're not dressed as groupies: we're wearing normal clothes, and it's cold. After some milling about, we get in line, he takes our order, and then we're told that they don't take cards. Thus, we didn't really get to talk to him, and we went on a fruitless search for an ATM, and because Canada is stupid about VISA, were unable to buy a beer from him and talk about music. It kinda sucked, but we did get to sort of see him and have our order to taken. Tragic, truly. But here's what we decided: if we had talked to him, it would have been stupid superficial things, and we really wanted to know substantial things about them writing music, and influences, and things like that. We were just some groupies there to fawn over them, or at least not only fawn over them. Also, he might have been contrary to what my fantasy crush persona has allotted for him, which would then ruin the dream. And that would be unfortunate.
Anyway, the overall evening was a success, although I do regret not having the means to have a conversation with the lead singer, the boyish and charming ezra koening. I'll just have to settle for the music videos.


Thinking about: why I don't play in a band in Brooklyn or Canada. Apparently, that's where all the cool bands are, and I want in on that.

Melan Collie, Solitude, and Living the Live you Never Planned on

Yesterday, I saw the newest Noah Baumbach movie "greenberg," which was a sometimes tragic, sometimes annoying, and sometimes beautiful story. I don't know that I can really summarize the movie exactly, except that the main character is an epic asshole, and that I hope I'm never as narcisissistic as he is. I did enjoy the movie, but if you're not intrigued, you can definitely wait until it's on DVD. However, there were certain elements of the movie that really resounded with me, and were shockingly relevant to the events going on in my life, and my friends' lives.

The line that most connected with me was this concept of "living the life you didn't plan on." Whether that relates to your career, your love life, your friends, your personality, or your deeds, it's a powerful thought.

This contemplation of one's life seems to happen to most people somewhere in their mid-twenties to early thirties. In college, you had dreams and plans and then after school, they failed to deliver. Or you had an amazing girlfriend/boyfriend, and you broke up, and now you feel like you're right back where you started, and that you're never going to find someone that cares about you. Or you start to think that you will always be alone in this world, and that the people you care about and the friendships you build will always dissolve in time and distance just by the nature of constant relocation. Or you start questioning your family's views, your spiritual background, your sexuality, and anything else you've depended on for most of your life. The bottom line is that most people's lives are entirely in flux throughout their twenties and some of their thirties.

Some people get married early and get a job that they end up loving for 40 years, but for most people, have no idea what to expect year to year. It's this ambiguity, this limbo that causes people to feel like their lost in the world, when in fact, they are just as lost as everyone else. The catch is that we ARE alone-no one will ever know us like we know ourselves. Yet, we are not alone- everyone and everything is connected. It's this strange balance, a koan of alone/not alone that we address everyday. By relinquishing our youth in our twenties, we end up having to deal with issues that we've been hiding from for decades: our beliefs that we may be unlovable or that we will never be "good enough." (Sometimes people just never grow up, and like to avoid these internal conflicts. Lucky them.) The weird thing is that chain of fear, doubt, and insecurity is circuitous- you feel bad about yourself and avoid seeing people, even though the one thing that would cheer you up would be to see people. Or you stop playing your instrument because you feel you are inadequate, when in fact, playing would nurture your soul, even if it doesn't match up to an external gauge of success.

Everyday, we tell ourselves things. Culturally, we look down upon schizophrenics, claiming that only a select few people have voices in their heads. We all have voices- voices that support us, that knock us down, tell us we sound bad, compare us to other people, etc. The real test is how we react to those voices, whether we listen to them and let them shape our lives, or whether we punch them in the face. For me, it depends on the day. But these voices are relying on a preconceived outcome of every given situation, to tell you how things are going to go. "You won't perform well on Wednesday because you always have problems with memory/sound/etc." or "You have been single for most of your life. What would change now?" However, the voices don't know anything more than the universe itself. Your future, your life, is not written down. You are in control of most of your life, and the way you choose to react to the events in your life.

When I was a kid, I used to imagine that my life was a chapter in a very large book, and that some unknown intangible being knew how my life was going to unfold, and that I just had to wait for the pages to turn. I imagined a sort of impish creature readying my life as a very riveting piece of biographical material, perhaps a sort of Dobby (hp) creature. While I still hold onto the vestiges of that, I have more of a fantastical approach in my mind, in that I possess a mythical pen (preferably a quill and some glittery magic ink) and that the words fall onto the pages of my life with my own decisions. In my sleep, I bleed the actions of the day onto this invisible book, and I begin the day with no recollection of this transference.

(I've been thinking about this sort of thing a lot lately, as it has been exactly a year since my

tendonitis debacle which ultimately ruined my second semester. So much of what I suffered through

was self-created. While the pain and injury was not, I knew that my perspective was not helping, and

in retrospect, it was a very valuable thing to have happen. Lately, I've been trying to remember how

awful it felt to not play, and how miserable I was without my expression and my viola. That was

certainly one of most unpleasant periods of my life, at least since middle and high school, and I'm

really glad I survived mostly unscathed. It is the apotheosis of this solitude that I am thinking of.

I felt so alone- as though no one could understand how I felt, and as though all of my work and studies

amounted to nothing. That kind of blackness began to permeate all of my life- everything just became

gray and hopeless; my classes sucked, my job was rough, the weather was depressing, and I didn't

have anything to do. I only wish I had so much time to think about things today! This year has been

the complete opposite, and while I still have issues, my overall state of being is much more stable,

and I feel less like a buoy floating untethered in the ocean. Yes, some of those issues still apply:

I don't have an absolute plan for my life, nor do I have a significant other, nor do I have unanimous

approval from summer festivals and teachers. Yet, I have small things- small glimpses of support,

love, and success and that's all I can cling to. I am a planner- I like to be organized. And nothing

that has happened in the last two years has been planned. I am only starting to look forward to

it.)

While this still doesn't ameliorate this quarter-life crisis, a few main points come to mind:

-That we can embrace each moment of life, in all of its glory, pain, and neutrality, and look forward to each moment.

-That none of us is ever as alone as our minds let us believe.

-That every person, no matter how great their flaws, is loveable. (There was a really funny preview for a movie in which the male character meets the woman of his dreams, and he says something along the lines of "Why would you want me? I'm like shrek of the forest. Why is there a beautiful maiden in the swamp?" That made me chuckle.)

-That nothing is ever certain, and we have to be comfortable with that level of ambiguity, doubt, and possibility. With uncertainty comes the possibility for random occurrences- certainty is predictable and entirely dry.

While I wish I could know how my life would unfold- whether I'll find the man, job, or viola of my dreams, I'll embrace the live I never planned on. It's all I've got.