the thing is, everyone knows you're brilliant.

hiatuses are necessary, nay, important to one's sanity. plus, when you come back, you've really missed things. a few weeks ago, my grandmother passed away and to be honest, it has plunged my life into disarray, not because of grief but because i feel like i've lost my footing in reality. my room's a mess and my mind's a mess. the two being in the same state says a lot about me right now. but i digress --- i just have to make it through this week.

about that. i'm not making it through this week. i spent the majority of my dress rehearsal for La traviata fighting back tears. why? i have no idea. okay, that's actually a lie. very recently, it has been put upon me to be, well, a genius. or at least smarter than most. i'm not very comfortable with this idea. it has been made very clear to me (by several) that if i don't get my act together, i'll be ruining the shot my immensely talented and promising mind has at becoming an academic/scholarly superstar. but you know, no pressure. how was i supposed to know that under all of this hair lay a thriving, pulsating superbrain? so now, all of my work falls short of my standards, everyone's standards blah blah blah and it's really getting to me. all i want to do is talk about music.

i spoke with one of my professors today about my thesis, asking him to be my advisor. let me tell you, scary! but he seemed up to it, though he may regret it. talking about my thesis scares the shit out of me, i'm not going to lie. there is no turning back from that. and i have to put out 60+ pages of cohesive thought by this time next year and the whole process/outcome will change my life.

now wouldn't that make you want to cry, too?

even when they're alone, they're not really apart.

fourth corner trio, on the steps in mt. vernon, january 2009

in this tender night

an unfortunate incident worth noting:

david fedderly: have you ever lost someone close to you?
me: yes.

this was on tuesday, two days after attending my great-grandmother's funeral. now of course, he didn't know that he was touching on a nerve as live as an exposed telephone cable. but there i was, in my lesson, doing everything in power to keep myself from erupting in tears. not surprisingly, though, i played better. whether or not roger's piece was as he was describing, it mattered to me all of a sudden. it meant something.

now this is an adage that is all too familiar. music is supposed to convey every experience, every emotion and its our job as musicians to make that audible and palpable to the audience. this concept is something that came much more naturally to me years ago, when i was less afraid to confront my emotions through my playing (save performing on stage, which i guess, is all that matters --- i get really emotional and raw on stage, it seems) and he's been pushing me to the edge, one that really frightens me. but i think, at least i hope, that its necessary.

my great-grandmother's death was a huge blow to me. a friend of mine said to me, "do they even make great-grandparents anymore?" and it was a fair thing to note. i guess a little family history was needed: my grandparents died when i was young and therefore, when everyone was young --- my mother, my uncle and my great-grandmothers. i think we all took the places of loved ones lost. they were my new grandmothers. my father remarked to me that he thought it was funny that there were more pictures of me in my great-grandmother's house than almost anyone. more of me then in my own house. i was the baby. and then that part of my life was gone.

i've talked about death before and i don't mean to go into a great deal of detail. i just think it was important to note the connection between those parts of my life. they are, forever, inextricably linked. hopefully, conveying that emotion to the audience will help me find a peace i've been looking for these past few days.