Last night was rather memorable.... in many different ways.
About 100 or so people gathered at our Karate school for student appreciation night. All the students sat on the edge of the huge mat, and the parents and family members sat in chairs and benches surround the mat. It was rather cool to be sitting there dressed in white along with about 50 other people ranging in age from 3 to 57.
Earlier that week, Melissa, Dad, and I had tested for our yellow belts in Karate and had passed; so Friday night we were to be officially promoted. :) But what we did not know was that our Modern Arnis teacher (http://www.modernarnis.com/index.php?option=com_frontpage&Itemid=1) had secretly been testing us that week and had decided that we would also get our yellow belts in Arnis.
So, to our great surprise last night, the three of us received promotions in two martial arts and now have the prestigious rank of yellow belt! lol ;) Sitting there listening to the promotions of others, I contemplated that first night of Karate. Ah, how silly and lost I felt! But slowly, through the days of work and mind boggling moves, things began to make sense and finally I tested for the first time. You know, martial arts is pretty cool stuff. Not only does it put you in shape, but it gives you such wonderful tools to protect yourself. Plus who doesn't like looking like an poofy marsh mellow!?
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Monday, November 30, 2009
Paper time
Its paper writing time....
Here I sit in a hard old chair, books surrounding me, the hum of the heater rising above the trickle of voices around me. Behind me are rows of tall shelves, each containing hundreds of musical scores, records and books. Beside me (or should I say 2 cubicles down from me) sits one of my friends, engrossed in the same taxing endeavor as myself. It is paper time... its due Wednesday morning at 10am exact.
I am in the music library at school... one of my most favorite places on campus. There is nothing like being surrounded by music and musicians!! Although old, loud, and cold; this place is somewhere that I can go and sleep, practice conducting or simply study. All of us here do the same thing... we do music.
I think the word "do" is best because it describes what it is really like to be a musician here a W. We don't just play and sing music. No, we live it, breathe it, dream it. It defines us in a way. For some here it is an obsession. But for most of us, it is what we love; and because of that we spend hours on end doing it.
This is why I actually enjoy writing papers... because I spend that time in company with musicians. I praise God for music and for people who love it...
Here I sit in a hard old chair, books surrounding me, the hum of the heater rising above the trickle of voices around me. Behind me are rows of tall shelves, each containing hundreds of musical scores, records and books. Beside me (or should I say 2 cubicles down from me) sits one of my friends, engrossed in the same taxing endeavor as myself. It is paper time... its due Wednesday morning at 10am exact.
I am in the music library at school... one of my most favorite places on campus. There is nothing like being surrounded by music and musicians!! Although old, loud, and cold; this place is somewhere that I can go and sleep, practice conducting or simply study. All of us here do the same thing... we do music.
I think the word "do" is best because it describes what it is really like to be a musician here a W. We don't just play and sing music. No, we live it, breathe it, dream it. It defines us in a way. For some here it is an obsession. But for most of us, it is what we love; and because of that we spend hours on end doing it.
This is why I actually enjoy writing papers... because I spend that time in company with musicians. I praise God for music and for people who love it...
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Of little black dots with stems, squiggles, and the combo of black and white...
Beethoven, Bach, Chopin, Tschaikowsky.... these men were absolutely amazing!
I am now immersed and practically drowning in the music of these men. I live their music for hours each day and pour endlessly over those tiny black dots with stems that are printed so perfectly on each page. I dream their music now... memorizing pieces makes you do that. Those spare moments in between classes will find me pencil in hand, carefully analyzing chords and sequences, marking beats, writing in dynamic markings, or simply drooling over possible pieces for the future.
Yes, what used to be a rather tedious chore has now become something of great enjoyment. Sure my rear end gets rather sore and my back gets stiff from the hours spent at the ivories, but wowzers it is way too awesome. Music....hmmmm, there is a reason why the Lord said that music will be in heaven. Sometimes I feel rather guilty for spending hours "playing" piano. It seems like I got the coolest, most awesome, totally fabulous major. I feel sorry for all those poor souls who have no music.
"Is school hard?" you ask. Hard like chemistry, like psychology.... naw. Hard to stop reading or practicing... oh ya. That is the hard part. There are some rather difficult aspects of school that require more time and discipline, but they are never miserable to do.
My normalish day consists of the following (notice a certain joyous trend):
5am...get up
6am...leave for school
7-9am...practice piano
9-12pm...3 classes
12-2pm...piano practice or homework
2-3pm...choir
3-4pm/4-6pm...studio class/master class/piano practice
Then I go home and:
*practice piano
*do conducting exercises
*practice saxophone
*practice choir songs
*practice piano
*review Spanish verb tenses
*read music history
*practice piano
oh ya...then I go to sleep.
*screams* Isn't it just the most fabulous...stupendously awesome schedule you ever did see?!?! I am serious! Being utterly exhausted has never been so much fun!!
I am now immersed and practically drowning in the music of these men. I live their music for hours each day and pour endlessly over those tiny black dots with stems that are printed so perfectly on each page. I dream their music now... memorizing pieces makes you do that. Those spare moments in between classes will find me pencil in hand, carefully analyzing chords and sequences, marking beats, writing in dynamic markings, or simply drooling over possible pieces for the future.
Yes, what used to be a rather tedious chore has now become something of great enjoyment. Sure my rear end gets rather sore and my back gets stiff from the hours spent at the ivories, but wowzers it is way too awesome. Music....hmmmm, there is a reason why the Lord said that music will be in heaven. Sometimes I feel rather guilty for spending hours "playing" piano. It seems like I got the coolest, most awesome, totally fabulous major. I feel sorry for all those poor souls who have no music.
"Is school hard?" you ask. Hard like chemistry, like psychology.... naw. Hard to stop reading or practicing... oh ya. That is the hard part. There are some rather difficult aspects of school that require more time and discipline, but they are never miserable to do.
My normalish day consists of the following (notice a certain joyous trend):
5am...get up
6am...leave for school
7-9am...practice piano
9-12pm...3 classes
12-2pm...piano practice or homework
2-3pm...choir
3-4pm/4-6pm...studio class/master class/piano practice
Then I go home and:
*practice piano
*do conducting exercises
*practice saxophone
*practice choir songs
*practice piano
*review Spanish verb tenses
*read music history
*practice piano
oh ya...then I go to sleep.
*screams* Isn't it just the most fabulous...stupendously awesome schedule you ever did see?!?! I am serious! Being utterly exhausted has never been so much fun!!
Monday, September 28, 2009
A marathon... 26.2 miles of a lot of things
Sometimes we do things a little out of the ordinary.
Sometimes we do things just a tad bit crazy.
And there are the times where we just... I don't know... do things that are more than crazy.
Yesterday I ran my very first marathon. To say it was a blast would be a lie. But to say it was horrible would also be a lie.
Mile 1 - Its cold. Very cold. From past experience I knew that the biting air wouldn't last long...
There was a sea of people and front and in the back, well I don't know, because I didn't turn around. We ran down an a long hill and I had to exert great control and resist the temptation to fly down the road and zap my energy.
Miles 2-6 - Life is good!! Very good! Even the nice long hill was rather ducky. It felt very invigorating to be running in the beautiful sun and listening to great music. At about mile six I saw the Larsens, Ramskey, and my sis. They were cheering, I was smiling, and I was right on schedule.
Mile 7-11 - Its going so great! I am moving along, through neighborhoods, along the waterfront, and up and down hills. I am drinking my electrolyte water (thanks Grant for that stuff...it is actually good) and eating gel and not bored. I see the Larsens about then. I am still right on time!
Mile 12-14 - Finally the turn off for the marathon and the half-marathon. It was right after a nasty incline and despite being slightly out of breath I couldn't help but smile. For a split second though, I did consider taking the turn off for the half-marathon. But no, I kept to the path I paid for. Then I was committed. For the longest time I ran without anyone around. That was rather boring and made running through neighborhoods dull. I kept myself entertained with pretending to own the houses.
Mile 15 - 16 - Pain. It started and didn't go away (in fact its still here as I am writing). We started the interurban trail. I saw Mr. Clarke...he was walking. I asked him how long till I would be turning around..he said quite a while. Little did I know how much he really meant by that. Slowly I wound around. Then I got to a decline... and I recognized that hill going down and knew and cringed at what was to come. I prayed for a water station. My water pack was empty, my tummy was growling, and I hadn't seen my family. I reached the bottom of the hill, rounded the corner and there was my dad and my sister. They jumped out the car and ran over to me. As they filled my water pack and gave me food I heard how my dad had finished his first half-marathon in an amazing time of 2:09! Way to go dad! Then I said my goodbyes, rounded another corner and began the long and painful ascent up California Hill. If you haven't seen this disgusting piece of torture...its worth seeing. Finally I made it to the top, alive but not thrilled.
Mile 16-22 - Oh man...its bad. Pain is all I can think of. Every once in a while I take a short walk break. I know this is where things start to get mentally grueling. I see Kristi again... she is looking a bit tired, but still running at a great pace.
I can't think of any more topics to mull and ponder over. Pain is just about the only present in my mind. That and the fact that my goal time is quickly disappearing, AND I am just about 100% sure that they messed up the mile markers. Miles were NEVER this long. Finally I reach California Hill...this time on the descent. Slowly I make my way down, tripping on this hill would result in the biggest slide-on-your-bum time of your life!
I round the corner to once again see my family and the Larsens and Ramskey. Life is looking up again. My water pack gets refilled, we talk briefly. Then I am off.
Mile 23-25 - When something goes down, its gotta go back up. That is what happened to that great downhill section of the course. Turning around made it go up. This is one of those times where you only think about the next step. Eventually I made it to the top and eventually I made it off the interurban trail. You know, pride is a great thing (hardly ever). It is what kept me going past people, and what made me dread seeing DNT (Did Not Finish) next to my name.
Mile 26 - Horrible...almost there. Can I make it? Maybe...
The minute I saw the sign saying 26 miles I began bawling. Not quiet tears...no this was boohooing, bawling, lots of noise-making. I don't know why...I just couldn't hold things in anymore.
26.2 - The end. My daddy was there cheering me on. Then Abbie, then Shelby and Kels holding a sign. I saw my sister, the Larsens, Sebens, Ramskey. I saw that glorious finish line... and I sprinted with the last little bit of "umph" that I had left. I made it. It was over. Thank you Lord!
Thank you to my great and awesome friends, family and support team. You all were awesome!!
My time... 5:52:10.
Sometimes we do things just a tad bit crazy.
And there are the times where we just... I don't know... do things that are more than crazy.
Yesterday I ran my very first marathon. To say it was a blast would be a lie. But to say it was horrible would also be a lie.
Mile 1 - Its cold. Very cold. From past experience I knew that the biting air wouldn't last long...
There was a sea of people and front and in the back, well I don't know, because I didn't turn around. We ran down an a long hill and I had to exert great control and resist the temptation to fly down the road and zap my energy.
Miles 2-6 - Life is good!! Very good! Even the nice long hill was rather ducky. It felt very invigorating to be running in the beautiful sun and listening to great music. At about mile six I saw the Larsens, Ramskey, and my sis. They were cheering, I was smiling, and I was right on schedule.
Mile 7-11 - Its going so great! I am moving along, through neighborhoods, along the waterfront, and up and down hills. I am drinking my electrolyte water (thanks Grant for that stuff...it is actually good) and eating gel and not bored. I see the Larsens about then. I am still right on time!
Mile 12-14 - Finally the turn off for the marathon and the half-marathon. It was right after a nasty incline and despite being slightly out of breath I couldn't help but smile. For a split second though, I did consider taking the turn off for the half-marathon. But no, I kept to the path I paid for. Then I was committed. For the longest time I ran without anyone around. That was rather boring and made running through neighborhoods dull. I kept myself entertained with pretending to own the houses.
Mile 15 - 16 - Pain. It started and didn't go away (in fact its still here as I am writing). We started the interurban trail. I saw Mr. Clarke...he was walking. I asked him how long till I would be turning around..he said quite a while. Little did I know how much he really meant by that. Slowly I wound around. Then I got to a decline... and I recognized that hill going down and knew and cringed at what was to come. I prayed for a water station. My water pack was empty, my tummy was growling, and I hadn't seen my family. I reached the bottom of the hill, rounded the corner and there was my dad and my sister. They jumped out the car and ran over to me. As they filled my water pack and gave me food I heard how my dad had finished his first half-marathon in an amazing time of 2:09! Way to go dad! Then I said my goodbyes, rounded another corner and began the long and painful ascent up California Hill. If you haven't seen this disgusting piece of torture...its worth seeing. Finally I made it to the top, alive but not thrilled.
Mile 16-22 - Oh man...its bad. Pain is all I can think of. Every once in a while I take a short walk break. I know this is where things start to get mentally grueling. I see Kristi again... she is looking a bit tired, but still running at a great pace.
I can't think of any more topics to mull and ponder over. Pain is just about the only present in my mind. That and the fact that my goal time is quickly disappearing, AND I am just about 100% sure that they messed up the mile markers. Miles were NEVER this long. Finally I reach California Hill...this time on the descent. Slowly I make my way down, tripping on this hill would result in the biggest slide-on-your-bum time of your life!
I round the corner to once again see my family and the Larsens and Ramskey. Life is looking up again. My water pack gets refilled, we talk briefly. Then I am off.
Mile 23-25 - When something goes down, its gotta go back up. That is what happened to that great downhill section of the course. Turning around made it go up. This is one of those times where you only think about the next step. Eventually I made it to the top and eventually I made it off the interurban trail. You know, pride is a great thing (hardly ever). It is what kept me going past people, and what made me dread seeing DNT (Did Not Finish) next to my name.
Mile 26 - Horrible...almost there. Can I make it? Maybe...
The minute I saw the sign saying 26 miles I began bawling. Not quiet tears...no this was boohooing, bawling, lots of noise-making. I don't know why...I just couldn't hold things in anymore.
26.2 - The end. My daddy was there cheering me on. Then Abbie, then Shelby and Kels holding a sign. I saw my sister, the Larsens, Sebens, Ramskey. I saw that glorious finish line... and I sprinted with the last little bit of "umph" that I had left. I made it. It was over. Thank you Lord!
Thank you to my great and awesome friends, family and support team. You all were awesome!!
My time... 5:52:10.
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