The Plight and Flight of the Zebra

The best thing to do during Superbowl XLV is to update your blog. Since I'm not into the football, I deserve credit for paying attention enough to change the channel during the commercials.

Newscaster says: “you may not like this, but there is MORE snow on the way!”
I throw down the bag of chips, swallow, and spew out my emotional reaction to her insightful reporting (along with a couple crumbs):
"That's BULLS&*^!"

A video of my journey home the other day during the 5th blizzard in 6 weeks:

Aside from not being able to really walk anywhere, there is lots of fun involved in a winter like this. My neighbors dump their snow on my car and scream at me when I park anywhere near their house (on a public street). Roofs are collapsing. I’ve gone through 4 pairs of boots in the last 3 weeks. When I'm president, I'll invent the boots with traction, water proofness, warmth, AND fashion, all for an affordable price in order to attract the student population...perhaps some who spend 2 hours digging out their car in 3 feet of snow turned slush turned solid ice in order to drive 60 miles to teach private flute lessons once a week in the deep suburbs of Boston, just to begin fueling the fire for what will be the beginnings of a career.

The bright side is that I finally found a pair of boots with at least 2 of those qualities.


Then I realize that screaming at the TV is a sign of something not too good (Elvis, is that you channeling me? I don't do the gun thing...).

So when the commercials are over I think about other things. Like how the lack of sleep, occasional outbursts at the TV (when I have time to watch TV), and other sometimes concerning side effects of just putting my soul into forging my life's purpose out of this program have actually rendered some good results.

http://classical-scene.com/2010/10/27/rising-star/ (I am mentioned at the bottom)

http://www.boston.com/ae/music/articles/2010/11/19/gunther_schullers_85th_sounds_rare_notes_at_jordan_hall/

Then, there was the completion of my master's recital, in two locations. Thanks Dad, by the way, for fixing my dress when it fell apart right before.
The first at Colburn School of Performing Arts in Los Angeles, Mayman Hall:


And the second in Williams Hall at the New England Conservatory in Boston:



The real accomplishment is shown in the people who were there to support me. Not just the people in the pictures to follow, but you too. Yes, YOU who are reading this wacky little particle of cyber space real estate.

College buds Kim (left) and Lia (right) who flew 3,000 miles just for the weekend of the recital, and to do my hair and makeup. Everyone should acquire friends like this.A moment of joy with Aunt Becky right after the recital ended:
(Thanks to Kim & Lia for capturing)


At the after party, thrown by Aunt Becky & Uncle Nick...one of the best nights ever.
L to R: Cousin Leigh, Uncle Nick, Liz, Michael, Aunt Becky
The traditional jumping picture:

Yes, I had to wear them at the party. L to R: Chung my pianist, Liz, and Stephanie my bassoonist (before the cream puff exploded on her shirt).

After the after-party. L to R: UO Ducks reunited...Kim, Becca, Lia, and then Liz (where you can see the "after" part of the after-party in full swing).

And with all that's happened in this chapter, new chapters begin. Tomorrow I turn a quarter of a century old. Thanks dad for 2 chicken pies, a honey baked ham, flowers, chocolate, and fruit, each in a separate delivery.

I am also more than 3/4 done with grad school. With both of these milestones, here are a couple lessons I've learned:

On getting around:
1. No matter how many times in a row you press the elevator, button, it won’t come faster.
2. By train, plane, automobile, or foot (zebra feet), just enjoy the journey.

On success:
1. “Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to become the best of which you are capable.” –John Wooden

P.S. I just learned not to change the channel for the commercials, because apparently they are the best part. That's what boyfriends are for...to educate. Everyone should acquire significant others like this. If not in person than online.


To conclude, some further documentation of one of the worst winters New England has ever seen. Ever.


A walk in the park?
Poor California Carolla-lita:

Icy road:

Me:

Internal Oregons

Ever wonder if certain parts of your life were real or just a dream? Well, after two years in Boston, I tried curing this "nostalgia" by learning how to text. When that didn't help I tried watching reality TV in an attempt to help me understand what "reality" really means. That didn't help either (thanks a lot for NOTHING, "America Broadcasting Company" and "Women's Entertainment" channels).

So I found myself back in Oregon. When exiting the plane, I stopped to inhale extremely deeply, coughed because most of the air was jet fuel, and got asked to please move by the line of people behind me. All the restrooms in the airport were closed except for one, which didn’t have ANY paper towels. Towels weren’t even an option. On the way out of the airport I spotted a man with dirty dread locks wrapped in a bun on top of his head, dragging a rainbow suitcase. And thus I welcomed myself back.

Kim, Lia and I were like The Three Musketeers picking up where we left off after only five minutes of separation, rather than what it really was - the better part of two years.

In Eugene, we stood in front of our former dorm, remembering the times we had while growing up: our first encounters with the “drunk” type of people, the guy who tested his pellet gun on us from the third story window (the first time I helped get someone evicted), the pumpkin left in the stairwell for months until it was finally removed by people wearing masks…and it all pulls at the sinews of my heart like a multi-ton colonial cobble stone.

The yard sale we later encountered had things like used bottles of hair dye and dolls without eyes to name a few - your basic essentials. I’ve missed being exhilarated by things like this. It made me actually consider buying some hair dye and trying it on one of the dolls. The truth is that those Saturday nights spent at Walmart were better than any night at a big city night club.

The yard sale.

Seeing more old friends over Mexican food made me feel so happy I just about felt nauseous (that plus the margaritas).

The way the University of Oregon campus now looks, the things about it that were in the back of my mind but I haven’t thought about, and fully realizing how much I had been through since I was last there, was quite intense.

Then, put a stop on all the emotion, it was time for a road trip. We stop in the small town of Astoria, Oregon (the temporary settlement of explorers Lewis and Clark).

(Lewis and Clark's original cabin)

There were also shops with things like humongous and dirty stuffed panda bears turned on their side in the display window,

or the B&B with possibly the most floral room that ever existed.

But it was the NATURE that was the most striking.

After visiting the beach, we sprinted up 160 steps to catch the last few minutes of this sunset. It was worth the ruptured lungs.

Among the top 5 sunsets I've ever seen:

A little weary from the sprint, with a red glow from the sunset:

After that, we found ourselves more north in the rural forests of Washington to see where Lia just earned her first job running a high school music program. To see her accomplish this after years of hard work and in these economic times is inspiring. I am very proud of her, as I am of Kim, who is on her way to doing the same thing!

Then it was further north, back to civilization in Seattle.

The GPS telling us to drive through the water:

Two years ago when I left Oregon, I didn’t allow myself to feel the emotion as much as it was there, for the purpose of keeping my eyes on the very unknown road ahead. But after the time away, I was hoping this visit would calm down my nostalgia. TOO BAD.
Really, this trip has only made my emotional state worse, but only for more love for the place and for the people in it. Along with the sadness that comes with change is happiness in knowing that this is where I spent some of the best times of my life.

After that I connected with the old Judaism at a Bar Mitzvah in the Bay Area to see more people I hardly ever get to. It isn't how often you see people that matters, but the love you share that outlasts any amount of time or distance.

Here is some brief video footage of my recent performance in at the Los Angeles Colburn School of Performing Arts as part of the masterclass for teacher Jim Walker (http://www.beyondthemasterclass.com/).

Caffe la Flaute

Yesterday I did something I don't do often, which is what inspired me to finally update my blog after five months. I consumed 3/5 decaf, 1/5 coffee, and 1/5 cream. When playing the flute, my tripple tonguing was WICKED awesome, but a couple hours later, when I was forced out of a practice room for the third time in an hour (due to quick-filling up room reservations), I started to cry.

To avoid public humiliation, I went for a power walk, in my three-inch heel boots, listening to techno music, all around parts of downtown Boston. After an hour, I started to calm down. I can't wear the boots again for at least week because of the blisters, and I was up until 3 a.m.

But you know what? Anxiety is the medicine for Accomplishment, and as long as I am a music-making MACHINE (lifting arm and flexing muscle), I say screw the downsides, as long as I can get shit DONE.

These two years will probably stand out as among the most intense of my life. Though it is not without flaws, I really feel that I could not be in a better place to be doing what I'm doing. I am consumed, which like anything, has its goods and bads, but in the end, I am reaching the best of my abilities as an artist. If you support art, you'll support me, no matter where I end up.

Otherwise, here are some highlights since winter:

Dad and I (oddly enough, I wasn't drinking coffee here):

The pup:Uncle Bob's winter wardrobe:

Liz and cousin Jack celebrating Christmas in New Jersey (video):

Passover in Lexington, MA:

Friends (minus my chin):

New York City after a blizzard (when I got stranded due to flight cancellations):

Jordan Hall (my version of church, synagogue, and every religious or spiritual haven), and yours truly with the magic flute:

Fallin' Up

So, now that I am blossoming in the midst of grad school, I’m working more hours than if I had a full time job.

Never in my life have I been a morning person...until now. Why, you ask? Well, not coffee, not yoga, not some magical herb, but only the Jordan Hall effect, of course. Its not a bad place to wake up for after the alarm goes off at 6 and I get to school to practice for 2 hours before my morning ensemble rehearsal, followed by 6-8 hours of various activities such as class, lessons, practicing, and generally lots of music.

(Music is kind of popular at my school.)

But it is pretty cool adjusting with the schedule to participate in performances with people like Wayne Shorter:

When I am not in school, I cherish few instances of free time to do things like run around Boston's famously scenic Jamaica Pond, which is a convenient two blocks from my house,

stay warm with things like the snuggie (a gift from my dad):

cook with a variety of new recipes (cookbook a gift from friends Debbie and Pat), which feeds both myself and my all-male selection of great roommates:

(left: maple salmon with asian slaw. right: hoison tenderloin tip end asparatus stir fry)

throw apple parties,



























and celebrate Halloween with old friends and new, and with important original creativity. Can you guess who I am?

(My "babies")