Birdies

You may have noticed (or not) that I changed the layout of this blog to birds. There is a good reason for that.

I chose it at random.

Sometimes change is just nice. As long as you can control the circumstances, the impact, the temperature, and every other factor for your own personal comfort, change is definitely nice.

So, you put on your dark green facial cream, get in your fuzzy kitty pajamas, climb into your snuggie with a glass of warm milk, and flip on ABC Nightly News. Diane Sawyer takes your hand and is about to lead you into the rolling hills of dreamland. Just then, a curtain is violently ripped to the side.

OMG. It is your Creative Genius. He steps out, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, and looms over you.

Creative genius says: "Let's roll."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Let's roll."

You sit up.  "I'm sorry? NOW you're ready to roll? I've been trying to coax you out all day. I don't have time for this right now. I need my beauty sleep to prevent premature wrinkles!"

"Fair enough," he replies. "I'm heading back in." [draws curtain]

You scramble out of bed, reach forward through your snuggie sleeves, and grab him.
"WAIT! Fine. Let's roll."

Creative genius smiles maniacally.


The two of you hit it off again like no time was lost. You feed him treats, he lets you pet his ears. When he is especially pleased with your productions, he'll sit on your lap.

Through thick and thin, one thing is for sure. He is always right. You'll do whatever he says without question.

Now that I've made that cryptic introduction about "you," I will share my latest adventures.


1. I have released my first commercial music album! It consists of new classical flute music by composers who are all a) still living, and b) good friends/mentors of mine, and c) really, really great musicians with their own Creative Geniuses. Appropriate for the new background of this blog, it has a bird on it.

Check it out on iTunes.

2. I started a new website called Musicovation, which is about positive news in the music world. I invite you, my little chicklets, to contribute/recommend/suggest stuff for it. 

3. I delved into a new world. Drum roll.....

Standup comedy.

So.


I may not be perfect (just kidding),

I may not be a man,

and, yes, I may not have even had a Bat Mitzvah...


But ALL THIS (i.e. that, above...all that above), my chirping little birdlets, is good for me. It can also be good for you. Beginning requirements are: willingness to fail, cynicism at one or more elements of the world, and sense of humor.


How do I have time to do regular life things? you may be wondering.

No idea.

Perhaps you will now infer (correctly) that the above mentioned things are where the little birdie in my heart is really flying to right now. Creative Genius confirms this as yes.

Don't worry though, my fresh-baked little muffins. I always land on my feet after taking flight.

Fly, little birdie. 

Fly. 

Half a Maraton

I hate this. This is good for me. Running is a metaphor for life. It keeps me moving, out of ruts, continuously going forward. It forces me to be in the moment yet keep my eye on the goal. It makes me feel powerful. It is the bomb.

Oh look, the beach.

 

Am I hallucinating? MUST GO FASTER!

This is the mile 7 marker! Say what? I am only already just past halfway! This sucks I'm doing great! And these folks demonstrate the best of humanity by giving out free sips of Gatorade and packets of astronaut-style goo.

The runners thank these volunteers by tossing their trash along the road.  Yay for exercise, so screw the earth?

Hungry?  Have a snickers.  (Seriously, next time I'm bringing a Snickers.)

Next time I'm also dressing up more for the occasion, like this chick.

Now that I'm at the finish, I shall sprint, looking forward to how much my body will hate love me for it tomorrow. I'm taking suggestions on captions for this picture.

1. Get outa my way! Nobody's around! That's good right?
2. Thank goodness this is over! This is was so great and now I'm DONE!

Please leave more captions in the comments.

***

Wow, that was amazing. Awesome. So fun. Only good feelings!!
Thank you to my friend Rachel being one of my inspirations to run. This is my second half marathon, but she runs them all the time.

The end of this past season of The Bachelorette really sums up how I feel about this experience:

Now onto the next race. Want to join me? I do recommend this, believe it or not.

Also believe it or not, I'm going to do the FULL MARATHON

...as soon as I eat this entire box of cheez-its.

America Runs on Puppies

A few weeks ago, I was weighing these options.

1. Moving to Siberia 

2. Moving to Bali

3. A combination (no snow)

Every place has its own unique character. One part of Boston's character is explained well in this popular internet meme.

Sign of the times, eh?

Similar to Boston, here's how much I too have not changed.

1. I don't like Dunkin Donuts
2. Public transit scares me
3. I don't understand baked beans
4. Real seasons scare me
5. I seriously don't like Dunkin Donuts
6. I have not completely rejected the idea of spray tans



It has been basically, exactly, truly, approximately, to the day (give or take a few weeks), SIX YEARS since I migrated from the great west over here.  

Remember? 

That can only mean one thing. Or several.


So, in that amount of time, I've figured out the following.

1. When making choices of whether to stay or go, perhaps we all either go down or Ascend.  
2. You can either complain or try to be positive, for a change. 
3. You can change paths or figure out a way of exploring great parts of yourself within the same path.

4. Having patience, persistence and support can result in nice jewelry (and happiness).

The other day, in a moment of delirium, clouded a bit by the many life changes that happened all at the same time, I realized something. 

Things are actually pretty good. 

"I am a puppy from Siberia, just with a smaller frame."

What's the lesson here?

Life is what you make it, no matter where you live it. 

In the end, I just want to be able to say one thing. Or several.  
(Leave your thoughts on this in the comment section.)

And really, it's because of times like this that this was invented.

Oh Dunkin Donuts, how America doth runneth on thee. 

Attitude Adjustment Hour

The Bachelor is one of the degrading, horrific, and pathetic parts of American pop culture. That is why I not only watch it, but also record it, every week.


Here is the most important part of this last season:

Translation:

Juan Pablo: "It's okay! [Bleeeep] [something intelligable]"

Caresses girl's eyeball.

Girl: Waves his hand away from her eyeball and says, "Don't mess up my makeup."

I just saved you the trouble of watching the entire season. So you're welcome. 

***

Now that that's out of the way, let's talk about my attitude, which becomes really scary when the weather gets cold.

So like, I need to get over it. I'm not talking about my use of the word "like," which I've resisted in the 18 years I spent in the heartland of "like."

I'm talking about my attitude. I know that winter is the real deal, and that I should be somewhat used to it now after like six years, but...well...I have no real end to that sentence.


Let's go back to The Bachelor now.

...

Luckily, every season ends, not just of The Bachelor, but also winter. Unless of course, if doesn't.

The best thing about winter are the comforts to the rough moments, like

1. Good uncles who get you out of a parking space.

2. Trips to Las Vegas. 

Let's talk about Vegas for a second as it relates to The Bachelor. 

Why, chicklets, do young women not of my style dress like they just bought the latest piece of dental floss for $100 to wear around their mid sections, walk in shoes that can kill them, and think it's fun?

What is the sociological implication of desperation in the 21st century as it was established by atheism in the middle ages in the suburbs of what was once the ancient peoples of the civilization of Sumar?

 ***

Additionally, I have other coping mechanisms for winter.


3. Others who are equally as angry (thanks to the internet for this uncredited video):

***

The biggest comfort though, is my new entrepreneurial venture.

Drum roll...

My positivity journal.

WTF (Why, That's Fabulous), you're probably thinking.


In the six days since I bought this meager stack of lined-paper for $18 at a bird sanctuary serving as a sanctuary store, I think I've had real success.

Entry #1: I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING BY HAND SINCE I WAS 12. I REALLY MISS THE GLOW OF THE COMPUTER SCREEN. But the girl on The Bachelor missed her only child who she left for three months to "find love," and then didn't actually find love, so I'll survive this. 

Entry #217: I am being negative right now. Not.

Cheer up though, chicklets. I know you're going through the same stuff I am, and if there's one thing better than misery, it is company.

So let's all caress each other's eye balls and get through this together. One episode at a time, straight on 'till summer. 

What ART I am-ith

So it's a new year, and time we had a very important discussion...

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MY NEW BOOTS?!?!

I knew you'd love them. I sure do, after five years of barely cheating hypothermia with each pair of these failures.  

Now let's talk about something of equal importance--the purpose of this blog. 

Another self-serving, useless piece of cyber space real estate? A forum for intelligent discussion? Neither?

We'll get into this discussion with a whiney rant. I know you love those.

I started this blog a few years back to talk about my adventures and to have a place for self-expression, only to soon worry that it is selfish of me to only write about myself when there are wars and Kim Kardashians in the world, only to then realize that it's okay to write about myself because my honesty will somehow cure the world of all its problems, only to then flail in this cycle of immense and unproductive self-consciousness. 

Why? 

Because at this point in my life I actually am trying to get my stuff figured out enough that I don't actually want to waste time or space with something that doesn't matter. How about that, I mean it. 

How adult of me, right?

See, I just spent three weeks working on this post only to delete it because it was all wrong. Now, I need to be somewhere in 10 minutes, and consequently am filled with such inspiration that I am sitting down to write this. 

Sometimes I have these wild moments of intense clarity at the climax of one arduous journey only to have it evaporate the second after it arrives. 

Here are examples of this plight:
 
1. After a long road of becoming a vegetarian, the holidays taught me that "turkey" is considered a vegetable. Now I have never loved meat more. 


2. After almost 28 years of dealing with some of the most unruly hair that ever existed, from chemical relaxers to 500 degree flat irons to "interventions" by hair stylists, I've never been happier to have thick hair so that I could donate it.

(Thanks Locks of Love for the inspiration.)

3. At a time when I was ready to leave Boston for feeling fed up with its many consistent frustrations (see above winter boots situation), I then somehow began to truly embrace it.


4. I just recently decided to move on from my first official teaching job after being there for more than three years. The wonderful music store and its great staff and community made me grow into a legitimate teacher and solidified my musicianship.
Why would I leave? 
Over something really stupid. Traffic!
I finally had to decide that the amount of energy getting somewhere shouldn't necessarily outweigh the amount of energy spent doing the thing you're going there to do. 

There are other reasons too, of course. I have plans. 
 


HOWEVER! 
The very minute I walked out on my last day, clarity hit again like a frying pan over the head.

Perhaps teaching is in fact what I am meant to do! Would this have hit me if I hadn't chosen to leave? What does this mean? 

Who knows. Back to the cycle.

5. I look down on and resent bad art, but spend a lot of my free time learning guitar chords for Miley Cyrus songs. 

Perhaps all this is leading to the question of what art really is.

Just like what makes a good blog post or good life choices, what makes good art?

Good art is what makes you stay in front of the television for three days straight with the shades drawn, sweat glistening around your blood shot eyes, eating nothing but funyans that stick to your pajamas, and having all it go by like three minutes. 

Bad art is nothing but shock value.

Cheer up though, chicklets.

Bad art makes good art stand out because art usually stems from the unfairness of the world, and therefore intense suffering. So, if this blog is bad art to you, it'll make the good art that much more appreciated. 

Therefore, I proclaim that I am doing a mitzvah.

Also, it's just this simple. Sometimes I'd rather write about winter boots than the existential paradigm of the changing climate of classical music as it relates to Armenian politics in the 29th century.

So sometimes bad art is okay. Sometimes I'd rather be myself and entertaining than someone else and boring. 

"Entertainment" can even become legitimate art. Here are examples:

1. Musical artists like Bach, Madonna, George Gershwin, Gregorian monks, Miley Cyrus (to name a short few). 

2. Nudity on network television. 

3. Rothko, Picasso, my finger paintings as a young toddler.  
4. The dollar rack at Target.

5. Lip plumper from the dollar rack at Target. 

 CONCLUSION:

In the end, "success" is always admirable. The fact that you're reading this at all is success to me. 

That's why I add lots of pictures--so you will keep scrolling down.
 

"Please shut up."

But the success discussion is for another time, if you are even still on speaking terms with me after this. 

Maybe it is actually this simple:

Each creation, no matter what the level it is, 
is just a vague collection of atomic particles of star dust 
in one practically nonexistent fraction 
of this vast infinite, incomprehensible abyss of a universe. 

Please discuss amongst yourselves now. I need a break.