Favorite and Famous Fiddlers UPDATE!!

Introducing: David Garrett, Ann Fontanella, Giora Schmidt, Lucia Micarelli, Jun Sung Ahn

Somebody broke the world record for playing "speed violin". Congratulations to Mr. David Garrett on playing "The Flight of the Bumblebee" in an astoundingly crisp 1:06:56 minutes. He now holds the world record for speed violin in the Guinness Book of World Records.  Let it also be known that he plays an extremely valuable 1716 Stradivarius (original!) violin. Antonio Stradivarius was a master luthier (or maker of instruments), specifically a violin-maker. Some 8 originals still exist in the world and they are worth millions of U.S. dollars. But enough about Strads. Let's talk about David! A child prodigy and virtuoso violinist, David hails from Aachen, Germany (the hometown of other famous persons). He came to America to the Julliard School of Music to further his theoretical studies in musicology and composition (good move, I say). He now tries to make classical music accessible to the masses, by writing rock symphonies and performing around the world with his unique, highly technical and impressive arrangements of popular music. Needless to say, I am impressed.

The next two fiddlers - or violinists, as is the proper term for a classical musician - are also reaching out to a broader community. Ann Fontanella is another young prodigy, though a quite serious and mature young woman who is well studied in music history and exceedingly proficient in her technique. She also branches into composition, with a well-developed structure to her pieces that is faithful to the classical period. Her YouTube Master classes, program notes and demonstrations are quite helpful to the budding virtuosi who scour the Internet looking for how-to's on a difficult passage or inspiration for interpreting a period piece.  Similarly, Giora Schmidt keeps the classical world laughing with his music jokes and rare finds of vintage advertisements for musical instruments and various types of apparatus for improving technique. I follow his Facebook page and find myself doubled over with laughter at each new absurdity and typification. Giora also makes videos to demonstrate to violin students how to produce different sounds, and answers questions about rosin, concert tuning, variations in stylistic expression on a particular piece, and critiques or comparisons of different interpretations of the great masters of violin.

Lucia Micarelli has been a favorite of mine since I heard her gorgeous solo on a Josh Groban song a few years ago. I have tried to learn this solo simply by watching and rewatching the video over and over, and experimenting with my violin. Her expression is exquisite and her affection touching, appropriate to the tenderness of the song.
I heard rumors that she went on tour with rock musicians, playing electric violin. Her classical accomplishments are just as impressive as any great virtuoso who branches out into popular music, fittingly, as it happens.  David Garrett stipulates that any classical musician wanting to play crossover must also be well established in the classical community (so since I began this post with him, I think it only fair to reference his credible opinion), and I think Lucia accomplishes this satisfactorily.

Lastly, I would like to introduce you to Jun Sung Ahn, known online as Jun Curry Ahn [read: Korean]. A violinist from Korea studying at Northwestern University in America, Jun is a talented and creative youngster who likes to make videos of himself covering popular songs on his violin, and blending the parts into the same view, layering his own playing.  He also dances on a team at his University, an outlet also suited to the crossover style, when considered alongside his reputable classical talents.

That's all for now, folks - my next update will tell tales of fiddlers near and far in the folk world. Until then, my friends, keep living well.

Firelight and a Good Book

As the chilly winds start to blow and we'd rather be snuggled up with a cup of hot tea or chocolate when the sun's not shining, "Doctor to the Rescue" is a touching tale to read by firelight.
"Doctor to the Rescue" is another wonderful story from Cheryl Wyatt with something for everyone. Her characters are relatable and each one is dealing with complex emotions and issues, with their own unique personalities that interact in humorous and heartwarming ways.
If you like romance, there are plenty of sigh-worthy moments and little hints along the way to keep the story alive. The romance between Dr. Ian Shupe and Bri Landis feels real, and sometimes raw, as we see the hurts that each person is struggling to overcome and their attraction to each other seems like an obstacle, itself.
Ian's daughter Tia is the key to this piece, not a perfect angel but a little girl struggling just as much if not more than her parents, with real fears, assumptions and insights. Tia truly brings "Doctor to the Rescue" to life in the way that she draws Ian and Bri together and helps each of them to face the toughest struggles of their lives - in a way that only a child can.
Cheryl Wyatt writes military romance, and while that term may sound staid and narrow at first glance, she truly brings the perspective of soldiers to life in the eyes of the women they love and those of their brothers-at-arms. Each story, while interwoven with characters from other books in the series or related series, is a unique snapshot of a couple that come together despite physical, emotional and spiritual battles, and no two stories are remotely the same. I know that I can always expect a great story from her books.

Look for "Doctor to the Rescue" at your local bookstore, Walmart, Target, or shop online at Amazon.com.

Blustery Weather and Being Generous

Just the title of this post evokes images of windblown heather and weathered wooden buildings, cloudy skies and faces red from the cold. It's finally getting chilly in Southern California, and the familiar nostalgia is creeping in along with the cold.  Advent is just beginning, the season of the liturgical year in which we prepare our hearts for the birth of Christ which we will celebrate on December 25th.

Many of us will recall stories of the Christ-Child being born into the world on a cold winter night, in a stable surrounded by simple animals and laid in a manger filled with straw.  Ironic, that a God who is everything and has need of nothing, rich and complete in Himself, would suffer to descend from perfection to our humbled human state, and furthermore to be born into a poor family.  His Love for us is so great that He comes to us as a tiny, vulnerable little baby, in poverty and humility. If this were not enough, he later sacrifices His Life for us on the Cross, and rises from the Dead to secure our salvation. What wondrous love is this, o my soul! 

 I recently watched a film in which a woman's journey with a terminal illness was documented, and I was amazed by her courage and perseverance in the face of such a debilitating disease. She walked, gardened, cooked, and spent hours with her family despite her pain, instead of throwing in the proverbial towel, lying down and waiting to die. Seeing her cheerfulness amid such intense pain, and her determination to do as much as possible, while being honest with her loved ones about her limits, I feel inspired to live in the same spirit.  In the past month, I have seen many wonderful examples of living, even as we are dying, for this world is not forever. There is life beyond the grave, and if we welcome Jesus, our infant King, into our hearts, we can spend it with Him.

This Advent, I am planning on spending more time with God in prayer, and I feel inspired to do more good works, especially since I will not have the obligation of schoolwork in two weeks' time. The usual caroling at nursing homes is always an option, one that I will have the joy of sharing with my choir this year. I also enjoy delivering food to families in the neighborhood who might not be able to afford a Christmas dinner.

However, I feel like doing more this year - when I see advertisements for warm clothing, I think of those who are dressed in rags; those who have no shoes, or shoes too thin to keep out the cold. When I think of what I might like to buy for myself because it would be helpful, I ask myself if I really need it, or if I can give something out of what I already have and buy that item to give to someone who has nothing.  Even if I only have a couple hundred dollars in the bank, I have a place to sleep, clothes to wear and food to eat. Some people do not have these basic luxuries, to say nothing of a loving family. I want to give until it hurts.
Wait a minute, where does it say in the rules of life that I should take care of all my own needs before helping another? You know, I don't think there is such a requirement. Even in my relative poverty, there are incredible numbers of people with far less than I have. I feel that I should share with them, in the spirit of poverty. Our Lord said,"Whatever you do for the least of these brothers of mine, you do it for Me."

So this Christmas, I am going to give baby Jesus a special present. Not something shiny and generic that I bought in a store, but something that I can give, from my heart. First and foremost, that means honoring Him in my life by worship and practice of virtue/avoidance of sin, and next that means loving the poorest of the poor, those who feel unwanted, unloved and alone.  The world may scorn our simple actions, and there may be social norms regarding giving to charities and other public practices of giving "to the less fortunate," but I propose that we be more like a "secret Santa" this Christmas and do something quietly to help someone else, with no reward (not even a tax deduction!) and no strings attached . This will be my Advent mission.

Quintessential Experiences, Part 2

Hello, fellow travelers! Here I will continue my account of the family trip, as recorded in my physical travel log back in August...

Silver Springs, FL

Today we visited Silver Springs, Florida, home to the glass-bottomed river boats and plenty of alligators.  Right next door to the resort was a water park. First we ate breakfast at Bageland, my aunt and uncle's shop, where I got to see my cousins. Age is no barrier for us - we talked and caught up and reminisced just like family should.

Silver Springs was hot, but just gorgeous.  60's style big-band/orchestra music spilled out of the entrance and across the parking lot, and even before entering the gate I found myself wanting to dance along (okay, I confess: I actually did!).  Before entering the gates we were greeted by two resplendent macaws in colorful plumage, and a pretty fountain with streams of water that met in the center of a circle. We could see the aluminum river boats docked ahead, as we walked in and headed up a path to one of the islands. Then... we caught our first glimpse of alligators, lounging in the water and bathing in the sun. [Later we learned that alligators get 85% of their energy from the sun, storing it within scales on their backs. They hibernate during winter months and don't eat because they don't get enough energy from the sun to digest physical food!] Some were quite large and plump-looking. 

Cockatrices, flamingos, egrets, deer, turkey vultures, and several species of fish were spotted along the way.  The lavender-crowned macaw was taking a nap by the Fort King River landing, but my big brother decided to wake it up.  Due to lightning, boat rides were postponed, so we caught a couple of "creature feature" shows: Snakes (red and yellow rat snakes, corn snakes), tarantulas, fruit bats, an albino skunk, scorpions and cockroaches, all up close and personal. 

In the meantime, we were getting soaked in a rainstorm. Then we ate our delicious sandwiches that my uncle packed for us. The sun dried us off, and we made it back for a cruise on the open river, and finally the Fort King boat ride.  I really enjoyed the first cruise because we could see so much, underwater, through the window in the bottom of the boat. We were riding the Chief Micanopy with Captain David, who was humming to himself the whole way. He spoke with that beautiful Southern inflection and down-home charm, chuckling every now and then. He reminded me both of the man singing on the Savannah, GA riverfront, and the older gentleman in Chris Young's music video for "The Man I Want to Be." As we putt-putted through the crystal-clear waters, he pointed out birds, turtles and other local wildlife, as well as ledges, caves, and crevices deep beneath the surface.  We passed a cypress tree over 500 years old; a Native American canoe and a rowboat dated from the 1500s were also easily visible at the bottom of the river. Stone statues rested at the mouth of Silver Springs, anchored by billows of green algae. Schools of fish swam through gaps in the sea-grass. The deepest point in the river was 81 feet, down a dark hole; at the mouth of the river it was 65 feet wide and 55 feet deep.

Captain Fred took us on a historical journey on the Peregrine, through the winding bends of the Silver.  Supposedly there are 999 riverbends (Pocahontas, watch out)!  A farm boy in his youth, Cap'n Fred told us about what it would have been like, growing up in the 1800s. We saw an original Discovery Expedition boat that was used in archaeological digs after somebody found a Wooly Mammoth in the river, a reconstructed fort, trading post, Seminole village and typical homestead (complete with crescent-moon-cut outhouse and breezeway).  We also saw white alligators, a boa, a couple crocodiles, wood ducks and pretty blue dragonflies. We finally left at closing time, and got caught in another crazy rain storm on the drive back.

To be continued... soon, I promise - because life is too short to die!

Quintessential Experiences Part 1

          Hello, fellow travelers! I've recently returned from a whirlwind trip through some of the most beautiful parts of the U.S. of A. I would love to tell you about all of it, but frankly, there is just too much to describe (and I apologize for taking so long to put this together!).
However, I will share some highlights of my experiences - though it still seems for the most part like a dream!

Nashville, TN 

We attended my younger sister's first vows ceremony, as she promised poverty, chastity and obedience to the Dominican Order of St. Cecilia and to God. The music was heavenly, as many of the Sisters have beautiful, clear voices like angels and fittingly, their patroness is St. Cecilia, who is also known to many in the Catholic world as the patron saint of musicians. We spent two happy days with my sister, visiting and playing games, making music and drinking sweet tea to our hearts' content. I had the precious opportunity of taking a walk with her one fine steamy morning, and we sat in rocking chairs on the back porch, catching up on each other's lives. The bond of a sister is truly something special and indispensable! It was a joy to meet my new "sisters-in-spirit" as I like to call them, the other 18 newly-professed Dominican Sisters, and share in their gladness with their families.

Staying in a family suite near Opryland, we stuffed ourselves with typical - but oh-so-delicious - Southern favorites, at the All-American Shoney's Restaurant... and at Waffle House, I ate me a pecan waffle on a Sunday morning in Nashville. It doesn't get much better than that. I enjoyed having a full kitchen there, though we had little opportunity to use it.

Down by the Cumberland River, we saw a bit of local history at Fort Nashborough, drove down Broadway and heard live music spilling out of the honky-tonks and line-dance clubs, and saw a great deal for Western boots (buy one, get two pairs free! - which, by the way, is a serious deal, since boots usually cost hundreds of dollars).  Some of the city had been damaged by recent floods, so we couldn't see everything, but it was still magnificent.  Everywhere we went downtown, I had the delight of watching magnificent and beautiful horses pulling little carts and wagons of tourists through the main streets.

When we headed out of town, we stopped by the riverfront and saw the remains of an old outpost that was incredibly picturesque. Next, we stopped at the Cheekwood Botanical Gardens and Art Museum (the original converted mansion), a sprawling estate of southern glory and horticultural genius. The highlight of that attraction was a series of "treehouses", structures inspired by places in children's books that were erected next to or around tall, sturdy trees. Representing The Giver was a whitewashed wooden structure with many-colored stained-glass panes in irregular geometric shapes; an old-fashioned fort-style treehouse represented On Walden Pond, a spiral frame wound with thin rope suggested the conch from Lord of the Flies, a veritable pirate ship paid homage to Treasure Island, a gigantic fish constructed from a chicken wire frame and hundreds of compact discs attached with zip ties presented the glorious The Rainbow Fish (I went inside and could stand up without my head touching the ceiling!), and our favorite was a wooden bunker disguised on one side with several different plants, a re-imagination of scenery from The Hobbit.  There were also many different themed and landscaped gardens, including an herb garden, a rain garden (fascinating concept), a water garden, a Japanese garden, a dogwood garden, a crape myrtle garden, and, of course, the classic rose garden. At the top of the hill, the mansion stands imposing, with a pretty loggia and tromp l'oeil painted sculptures on the second floor. I was fascinated by the silver and porcelain collections - there were some original Paul Revere pieces! Though we did not spend long ogling the Cheek family's collection of treasures, I found much to appreciate in the open, spacious design of the house.

Augusta, GA

We ate our dinner at Chik-fil-A before stopping at my aunt's house in Augusta. Like I said before, we got quite a sample of the South - you might not know it, but Chik-fil-A originated in Georgia and is not just a chicken restaurant but also an organization that supports the growth of youth, families and education. With the skies gently watering the earth, we decided to try a peach-flavored soft-serve ice cream at the restaurant. Of course, peach ice cream is the specialty in Georgia, right?

Savannah, GA - After spending a night in Augusta, we attended Mass in Savannah at a church built by early French settlers - which, by the way, had gorgeous stained-glass windows - and took in the unique beauty of Southern magnolia trees draped with Spanish moss. Lunch was some unforgettable Southern fare - coleslaw, green beans, spicy chicken wings, battered-and-fried fish (I had fish bites), shrimp, crab, flounder and hushpuppies. I was nearly overwhelmed by the great hospitality.

We drove through riverfront Savannah and saw myriads of old storefronts, all built right up next to each other. In the high humidity, we tried to stay cool by walking in the shade, gazing out at the river and the pretty paddleboat ferries that gave tours. We spied an adventure boat full of passengers dumping water on a smaller boat of "bad guys" (good laughs). The riverfront was so picturesque!  Down by the river, a man seated in front of his easel was plying his trade, and several colorful canvasses were propped up along the low brick wall around him. Another man sang cheerfully, "This Little Light of Mine", clapping in time to the sound of his own voice. I think it was beautiful!

We stepped into the cool yet bustling atmosphere of a candy store, and I was caught up in the wonder of watching the process of saltwater taffy being spun and pulled by old-fashioned machines.  Frozen lemonades abounded and people who thronged the streets, carrying knicknacks, shells and other purchases, boarded the green-and-orange trolleys for a tour. The cobblestones must have been more than eight inches across, each. Of course, I would notice that.

More later! Life is too busy (at least, today) and too short to die.

Purpose and Path

Oh my dear readers... life never ceases to amaze me! Neither does love, for that matter.

God is so incredibly gentle with me, even in reproach. In recent days I have been reflecting on the idea of humility in my life, as it is a virtue toward which I am constantly striving (or at least wish to do so).  We are called to something far greater than ourselves, and for that very reason our purpose is bound up in who we are, and where we came from - in this case, God. He, and not just some flowery idea of "heaven", is our destiny. The word destiny implies a journey, which indicates motion. The idea that our destiny is a Being, a Divine Being, makes it something sacred. As with any journey, we must pack the necessary things. For us as Catholic Christians, this means the sacraments, especially the Eucharist and the sacrament of Reconciliation (aka Confession), daily prayer, penance, and tools for the cultivation of our interior life (keeping up morale, striving for discipline and virtue).

I am one of the "little souls" St. Therese of Lisieux often spoke of in her autobiography, the ones Fr. Angelo Casimiro, MIC, talks about in this homily, "God's Power Made Perfect in Weakness".
Some people think a lot of me, and I appreciate their support and love. But ultimately, I am not a great person, in thought or deed. I'm simply another little soul that God loves enough to take the time to pursue with His love and mercy.

Sadly, I am not always receptive to His call, to His nudges, His invitations to a wonderful and grace-filled life. Often I become discouraged because I make mistakes, hurt those I love and generally make a fool of myself. But God is right there, longing for my return, willing me to believe in hope, and the amazing power that He has to turn my life around, if I will only walk with Him. I wish I remembered that more often.

Next step: more prayer! One of our parish priests often says, "Prayer is talking to God; prayer is listening to God; prayer is loving God." It is a way of communicating with the One who guards and guides us, getting to know the One who is "Alpha and Omega, beginning and end." Prayer is all about meeting God, encountering His presence, entering into His life, sharing our lives and all that we are. Prayer is not a to-do list, a simple catharsis, or a way of getting what we want; it simply does not work that way. Prayer is a language we use to connect with God - and a language He uses to speak to us, to show us His love, to inspire us. Now, there's a word I love. "Inspire" comes from an old Latin word meaning "to breathe into", and we see the breath of God as something very powerful in Scripture, something we understand as giving life, hope, grace, peace and strength. In the modern sense, the word usually means "to prompt" and leads to action or realization. Therefore, when God inspires us, He bequeaths His wisdom to our souls and enables us to prepare for the next steps. I know that I feel comforted knowing this!

So I continue on this path, this journey towards my Destiny - and I already know that He waits with open arms - because He's by my side, too!

Tennessee Bound

Hallo, everyone!
The past couple months have been pretty busy here.
We have hummingbirds in the backyard, who occasionally stop fluttering about and perch on our clothesline, perusing their surroundings.  The cool sea breeze brings gulls up here sometimes - I can hear them calling to each other, "Come and enjoy the sunshine!"  The June bugs buzz by lazily, drawn by the sweet fragrance of ripe plums.  The squash plants are weighing down the lattice frame with their fruit, and the dazzling blue sky intensifies every color.

Welcome to my world.

Recently, in the spirit of humility, hard work and true living, I have:
-served a fancy luncheon
-danced the Hokey Pokey with friends in the public square
-conducted choir rehearsals
-read countless recipes (actually, the truth is that I did not count, but the number is not that great)
-called up old friends, apologized for misunderstandings, and opened doors to new friendships
-learned a Bollywood dance routine from my good friend
-took up running again (it's about perseverance)
-started improvising with the guitar
-attended various talks on faith and morality with other young folks
-sewed a zipper and put darts in a skirt
-created a felt-backed, costume jewelry necklace
-made a chain ring to replace the band I lost in January (took me long enough!)
-spent time with my brothers and my parents, becoming a family again

Next week, I will be on my way to Tennessee to see my little sister become a beautiful bride.  After that, we'll head onward to the East Coast to see some of my cousins, my aunts and uncles. So many things are going on in my heart, and each new turn leaves me amazed.  Life is too short not to pay attention to the details. When I return, I'll let you know some of those wonderful details of my trip. Until next time!

Bach to the Classics

Now that my big brother is home for the summer - and even if he were not - it's going to be a musical season.

First of all, a new choir is forming at my church and we are once again being called upon to give our talents, something we gladly do. This means delving again into traditional liturgical music, including Gregorian chant.

My brother showed me a score for Bach's violin partitas the other day and just seeing the notes on the page brought a smile to my face. My fingers are itching to learn the Partita No.2 in D minor...
 Ah, the crisp feel of pages scribbled over in black dots and lines! New music has always held a particular appeal for me, just as old music does (of course, this is old music printed on new paper).

With the prospect of new violin students, I delve back into my roots - Suzuki training, old method books, scales and other learning tools. Many of my students are new to violin and so I get to advise them on what type of instrument to look for, the best deals for a beginning student and what they can expect.  I like to provide theory along with technical training for my students, a holistic method that I think helps people to learn better because they understand why they are doing what they are doing. It also helps students to train themselves to recognize mistakes and correct them autonomously, through aural training - learning to recognize pitch and intervals, and listening to different dynamics and tone qualities in their playing. Music is beautiful, and it is also complex. At the basic level, music is made up of vibrations with some sort of rhythm and occasionally variation in pitch. The diversity in musical instruments and sounds lies in the technical aspect of the materials used to make instruments, the shape and size of resonators, and the method of sound production.

There is so much to learn! And life is too short to pass up something as wonderful as music.

Banjo Jammin'

I am ecstatic. For the first time in my life, I had the privilege of fiddlin' around with a banjo player (banjoist? banjoer? -never mind)! I had brought my violin to a graduation party, hoping to be able to offer some music by way of congratulations. Well, it turns out the esteemed fellow is also an accomplished musician with considerable skill at playing various instruments. He disappeared for a short while and reappeared with that glorious moon-shaped drum of the steel strings, and we set to making some bluegrass happen.

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I have always loved listening to down-home hoe-downs or foot-stomping fiddle tunes, and have watched those talented fiddlers' fingers fly on numerous occasions, but as yet I have not had the opportunity of studying this fascinating genre for the violin.  I know from whom I'd like to learn, though. He's a local master of the instrument, and his fiddling gives off sparks - and that's what I'm talking about.  The ability to sound like a train whistle. Well, to be fair, not only that. Also the ability to play incredibly complex runs of eighth notes on two strings at the same time!

So can you imagine my elation upon the offer to jam with a banjo? My friend plucked away at some great melodies, re-tuning his banjo a few times to switch songs, and we lost track of the hour as we threw in a few tricks here and there, a few discordant notes that made it interesting, and raised our eyebrows in appreciation. Other folks at the party stopped by to listen, clap along, possibly jig a bit - and one picked up a guitar to join us, easily following the simple chord patterns. If there is one thing I love about improvisation, it's this: I get to play whatever I feel! I can start and stop playing whenever I want, and generally goof around while the accompaniment instruments duke it out with their complex arpeggiated chords and inversions.

The icing on the cake was that one of the guys remarked, "I would pay to see you if you ever have a show," as we were winding down. Hello out there? That means I might have a future in bluegrass! ...a face-splitting smile and a shake of the head for that one. Oh, and profound thanks. Music is such a wonderful gift!
Life is far too short to die.

Hair Again

Hello, folks!
It has been quite the busy week. My latest exploration yielded some fascinating results. I have always been the kind of girl who tries to do something different with her hair almost every day... since it is such a versatile medium and, honestly, it's fun! I was intrigued by the intricate hairstyles of the past, woven in twists and braids, with ribbons and pins attached.  Though hairstyling and braiding is only a hobby for me, it is a livelihood for others. I was able to find several clear, user-friendly tutorials on YouTube for some chic braided styles that seemed quite doable. I also found some that seemed near impossible, or simply ridiculous, and had a good laugh.
For one, I learned how to make a five-strand braid, which is actually easier than it sounds, provided you have five fingers on each hand which are extremely nimble and coordinated. The trick is in repeating, "Over, under," to yourself under your breath as you twist the strands of hair and tighten them every so often.
I also learned how to make an upside-down French braid and attach it to a high ballerina-style bun, a very classic and formal look. That particular style I attempted yesterday with wet hair, and it served me well throughout the day.
The most intricate design I found was a YouTube video in Russian that simply showed a woman braiding a model's hair by tying a series of overhand knots and linking them together into a sort of headband on each side, then braiding the tail and curling it around to form a spiral at the back of the head. It's a bit outrageous and very showy, but I think I'd like to try it, if only to say I could make it look reasonably good on the first attempt.
In my own experimenting, I have gradually become skilled with the placement of just a few pins to hold a hairstyle in place - they really are helpful if you know just the way to twist them in. I am interested in incorporating silk flowers into my hair designs, when I get the chance. I have preliminary sketches for a few hair ornaments, and I'd like to try chopsticks, as well - a coordinated set, that is. But let me not get ahead of myself.
Today I tried a trick with a challenging tool that is supposed to make hairstyles easier - the Bump-it. I borrowed one from a friend and parted my hair at the crown like you're supposed to do, then arranged the hair over the "bump", but found it didn't look all that attractive - so I took strands of hair that framed my face and wrapped them around the base of the bump to disguise it, sweeping my bangs back with a bit of mousse and pulling some twisted strands back over the top, hiding the ends with an artificial rose flower. In the end, I looked like a cross between an Asian elf (because I had long, soft curled strands of hair hanging in front of my ears) and a Polynesian princess (because of the flower). It was fun to create, but I don't think I'll be wearing a Bump-it again anytime soon.
Meanwhile, my brain has been suggesting all sorts of outrageous and fun ideas for home design, furniture and gadgets. I'm fond of patterns and coordination, but I am also intrigued by those little surprises that make life interesting and exciting. After all, life is too short to die, so I have to get back to keeping up with my imagination!

Repetition

Howdy, I hope you folks have been well!

I could use every cliché in the book to describe the various patterns that life can take - as a journey, with twists and turns, separations and reunions; as a circle that never ends; as a chalkboard upon which to be written, as a book with empty pages to fill; as a test to complete or a promise to fulfill. However, none of these analogies can fully encompass the reality of life.  Philosophers have mused for millennia about what life is, its meaning an direction. Some say there is no direction, after pursuing it and coming up empty-handed. There are those who focus on the present moment and those who are trapped in their memories, those who are so busy with their "heads in the clouds" that they miss the experiences of the present, those who are looking so far down the road that they run into a barrier. We use so many approximations to describe our lives as a whole, or in little pieces, segments, characterized by events, people, experiences...

In a sense, we miss the point.

Life is about love. And learning, as I pointed out last week.  Learning to love, learning what love is, learning to receive love.  The late Pope John Paul II wrote to a young woman named Teresa, "It is not enough to give love; one must also be able to receive love."  We spend so much time chasing after this and that, ideals of "success", things we want to have or accomplish. Sometimes we try to become a better version of ourselves, and sometimes we try to become a different person entirely.  The general consensus is that being genuine, "true to oneself" is the best modus operandi, but that requires a thorough knowledge of oneself. The first ingredient then would be to engage in self-reflection which would enable integrity to flourish.  As human beings who are neurologically wired for relationships, we need each other and learn from each other, imitating those we like or admire. If we pay attention to our own hearts, we will learn what we like and dislike, what brings us joy and sorrow, learning from our mistakes to be empathetic with others.

As a fallible human being, I fail quite often.  It is said that the important thing is to get back up when you fall.  From experience, I would say that this is true.  Each new moment, each new day, is another opportunity to love, to choose to try again to do our best and serve others.  The old acronym I learned in Sunday school as a child still applies: JOY =Jesus, Others, Yourself (in order of importance). I have wrestled with my melancholy side for a while now, and I am beginning to see that the real fight is in acceptance and choosing to wield the "attitude of gratitude" against the temptations of negative thoughts. Instead of focusing always on my weaknesses, I should acknowledge them and then seek to find ways to maximize my strengths as well as my weaknesses in the service of others and (indirectly) betterment of myself.  All this, of course, in the context of praying constantly for the appropriate humility and grace to persevere as God wills.

Life is too short to always be thinking of death, and in so doing, dying without having lived. No, we must live even as we are dying...

All About Learning

Didactic, pedagogy, study, observation... these are some words that we use to describe teaching and learning, which are in reality two sides of the same coin. You see, learning is not just about memorization - it is also about applying the concepts and ideas we learn to our lives, attaching meaning and significance to the knowledge and skills we gain through the learning process. Learning sometimes happens as a result of another person teaching the learner, but it can also happen when the learner teaches someone else information that has recently been acquired. Some people prefer to learn by observing their surroundings, self-directed in their pursuit of knowledge - or skills; there are countless books in the do-it-yourself (DIY) sections of libraries nowadays.

...you can probably tell I've been sequestered in academic seclusion for the past few weeks. But hey, it pays off, eventually. We're down to the final crunch, the last few class sessions before final exams begin this Saturday. I have really enjoyed learning about so many things and interacting with my fellow classmates, discovering new capacities in myself and developing that potential towards my goals.  Currently, I'm reflecting with increasing frequency on my life and who I am becoming. After all, since life is too short to die, I must focus on living, and developing myself to be the best person I can possibly be, to serve others and share in their lives. So much of life is about learning, from the time we are tiny budding cells, to holding our heads up, to taking our first steps, and even until old age when we might have to use a cane to walk. Sure, some of us are self-directed learners, but none of us - none of us - can say we did it all alone. So here's a toast to all the teachers in our lives - parents, siblings, cousins, grandparents, foster parents, adoptive parents, mentors, schoolteachers, coaches, directors, best friends, and spouses, even children and the strangers we meet in our day-to-day journeys - here's to all of you. Thank you for deepening our experiences and understandings of ourselves and our surroundings. Thank you for loving us and helping us to learn and grow and live.

Easter meditations

Hello blogosphere! Yes, I'm still here, buried beneath exams and projects... yet still finding time to smell the roses and bake a pupacalove (or eight).

Recently, I discovered an ancient Japanese practice called shinrin-yoku, which is translated "forest bathing" - a deeply beneficial practice of going into the woods and soaking up the natural surroundings. I have always enjoyed the benefits of a good hike and loved breathing the woodsy scents of mountain air, and now I know why.  There are actually scientific studies showing improvement in blood pressure, stress levels, etc. after forest bathing. When one cannot go to an actual forest, it is helpful to touch a bowl of water or sit under a tree for a few minutes - to have some contact with nature during each day, as a way of replenishing the natural harmony. It sounds so refreshing to me! From now on I intend to make conscious efforts at shinrin-yoku as often as possible; it's also quite conducive to prayer and meditation.

This week is Easter week, the celebration of Jesus' resurrection from the dead after His crucifixion (which is remembered on Good Friday). Such tremendous joy abounds among family and friends who come together to celebrate this great feast, the highest point of the liturgical year for Christians. In honor of the occasion, I begged my mother for a special recipe I remembered from my childhood: Italian pupacalove cookies, made with a simple dough and sesame seeds. As a child, I loved rolling out the dough and pressing a hard-boiled egg into the center, then splitting the ends of a log and curling them back towards the "body" around the egg, forming a cute doll-like shape. The recipe belonged to my mother's godmother, who came from Italy. You probably know by now that I am the nostalgic sort, so... I woke early on Easter morning and went into the kitchen to bake these delicious festive treats. I made 2/3 of the recipe, which ended up being 7 cookies and the dough for an eighth split into smaller cookies because I could only use seven eggs. I had colored the eggs beforehand with vinegar and food coloring in boiling water, using a simple immersion process. How beautiful, when they came out of the oven, looking and smelling just as I remembered!

I'm currently deep in my past and present, writing my autobiographical essay for my senior seminar course. Amazing things come to light when I examine my life in hindsight, using the two-and-a-half pages of prompt questions (!) for the assignment. It is a thorough reflection on my personal development as a human being, as a student and all of the various roles that I play.  This time of year carries many memories, sweet and bitter, for me. Most of all, I think of how much I have been loved and blessed in this life. This thought gives me renewed courage to continue on the path I have chosen - since life is, after all, too short to die.

A Trip to India

Someday...
I would love to travel around the world and walk in places that I have only experienced thus far in photographs and books. There are so many aspects of culture that fascinate and attract me. You might call me a culture junkie.  I am no true bohemian or travel enthusiast, but I am a dreamer and a lover of all things good in humanity, including diverse cultural expressions.

Recently, I had the opportunity to travel to a not-so-far-away little ethnic community not far from my home.  While it obviously cannot be considered a proper substitute for the real thing, just being able to converse with people who have come from other countries and are still steeped in the tradition and culture of those places is a real treasure. Can you tell that I had a good day?

My focus was on the Asian Indian community which lives nearby and shares a half-mile stretch of little shops and medical offices as their cultural hub.  My day began at the home of some residents who were born in India and immigrated to the United States, with a simple conversational interview about their health beliefs and practices.  I left with some juice in my tummy, an invitation to visit their temple and see the artwork there, and an open invitation to return (any time) to learn more.  As principle, these people are very generous and hospitable - it stems both from the belief in karma (what goes around comes around, as the English say) and the belief that all humans are created by God and deserve respect because there is good in everyone.  They professed to follow the Swaminarayan sect of Hinduism, and showed me pictures of the god they worship and the guru who teaches their community at the temple. 

I learned many things about their daily lives, their values and traditions. One very important aspect of Indian culture is the family; it is common for many generations to live together in one household, and when a son marries he brings his bride into the house of his parents. When daughters marry, they join their husband's family household. Elders are respected and cared for lovingly by younger family members. 
Ayurvedic medicine is strong in many families no matter their religion, as the oldest known complete system of medicine (over five thousand years of tradition in India).  Herbs and spices are used in daily cooking to maintain health and vitality, and are also used in blends and prepared in special ways to restore health. Each plant, each herb and spice has its own value and purpose.
The practice of yogas is a combination of exercise and meditation, and can include deep spirituality with mantras (Sanskrit phrases) that are repeated and related to specific postures (asanas or yogas) which represent obeisance to a god. While many different "gods" are worshiped in India, this family explained to me that they believe that God is One, and is manifested in many forms by virtue of divine omnipresence.

After a lovely morning visit, I took a short break at home and then embarked with a buddy on the streets of Little India.  We walked around, taking pictures like little tourists at various shops where we saw ornate gold figurines and heavily embroidered garments. Probably my favorite place we found was a standard grocery with shelves upon shelves of spices, both ground and whole.  Jars of pickles lined one wall, and bags of rice and various flours lined another. Fresh vegetables and mangoes, lentils of three different colors, palm sugar and herbal supplements - all the necessary ingredients were in one place. The stores(the House of Spices, as well as the other groceries) smelled amazing! I must confess, I love aromatic spices - cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, ginger, saffron, turmeric, cumin, sesame, masala (mixed spices)... you get the idea.

All those delicious aromas were making me hungry, so we stopped at my favorite snack shop and grabbed a masala dosa, which is South Indian fare consisting of a giant pancake wrapped around potatoes seasoned with green herbs, onions and turmeric (among other spices) and served with spicy and cooling sauces and a vegetable soup.  My buddy had a great time marveling at the scale of Bollywood music videos playing in the store that starred one actor over and over.  Before we left, we picked out a tantalizing array of sweets from the front counter to take home and try, mostly milk and sugar confections with a hint of coconut, almond, pistachio, cardamom or saffron. The shapes and colors vary pleasantly, and each little piece is a refreshing, moist morsel packed with just the right amount of sweetness and spices with a creamy, melting texture.

I am quite satisfied with my little trip to Little India. Maybe I can experience the country in little pieces and eventually approximate an actual visit to quench my curiosity until the opportunity materializes to see its beauty firsthand. Life is too short not to experience and appreciate the beauty in others.

P.S. If anyone from India reads this post, leave me a comment to let me know you were here!

Famous & Favorite Fiddlers

As you can see, I've a flair for alliteration at times.

Today I want to share with all of you some of my favorite violinists of all time. Of course, there are the great masters of the modern era, including Jascha Heifetz, Yehudi Menuhin, and Itzhak Perlman, and the young virtuosi of America: Sarah Chang, Joshua Bell, and Hilary Hahn. Before them came Niccolo Paganini, the legendary violinist with long fingers who composed some of the most difficult solo violin repertoire in existence (including the Caprices, of which there are 24). We must not leave out Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, that most famous of classical musicians to those little inclined to listen to classical music.
Let it not be said that I judge all violinists by Mendelssohn's E minor violin concerto - but it may be a major consideration if their interpretation is appropriately expressive.

Allow me to introduce you to...

Oliver Hoidn, a fabulous violinist a year older than myself who studied at the same studio as my younger sister and could whip out some serious Bach without any mistakes.

Aishwarya Venkataraman, who is so much more than a violinist. We studied together in middle school, and though she is younger than me, this talented lady already has a bachelor's degree in music from Berkelee School of Music in Boston. I am usually mesmerized by her flawless performances of Carnatic (South Indian) music on violin. She also played electric violin in school jazz bands up through high school, and found a way to work that into her musical degree, as well.  Let it also be known that she is currently pursuing pre-medicinal studies at Stanford University, going above and beyond her musical talents.

Alexander Prior - when I found out about this prodigy, I was blown away. I first heard of him on a PBS television program that was rebroadcast from the UK, featuring the World's Greatest Young Musicians. Alex Prior has the background of the great musicians of yore - with Russian lineage and intense classical training such that he can sing in seven languages, play several orchestral instruments, and compose a prolific amount of works for ensembles, including a ballet and an opera. He is currently an internationally renowned conductor, for his youth and talent, as well as his experience as the conductor of professional orchestras. His works are being produced and performed to great acclaim, and he continues to pursue excellence in musical study and performance. I have mentioned Alex in this list simply because he is so inspirational to all young musicians.

Simone Porter, a lovely young violinist recruited by Alex Prior for the above-mentioned program and collaboration. I was dazzled by her expression the first time I heard and watched her play. Now I have heard her interpretation of Sarasate - and that is pure talent and precision.  Simone's confidence radiates from the stage, recital hall or classroom and her personality surfaces in her spirited interpretations of pieces written strictly for violin virtuosi.

Now that I am on the subject of Gypsy violin, how about Alexander Rybak? This dashing young fellow from Belarus steals hearts with his skillful fiddling and charming lyrics in a pop-folk crossover style. I have, however, heard him break hairs (bow hairs, that is) on Vivaldi's "The Four Seasons" and other challenging pieces of classical repertoire. Another favorite of mine is Kim Angelis, who composes and performs with her husband Jozef, continuing the tradition of Gypsy violin and dance given to her by her mother. I saw her in concert once at Marymount and marveled at the way she could dance and play double stops at the same time!

The most accomplished fiddler I have ever heard who can dance and play simultaneously is the beautiful Mairead Nesbitt, of Celtic Woman fame. Who, if truth be told, was devastatingly accomplished long before the show was conceived. Her expression and immaculate execution are just captivating, as is her youthful presence onstage.

Last but not least, let there be honorable mention of Steve Rees, the fiddler of Cajun band L'Angelus, which is formed from a lively bunch of brothers and sisters down in Louisiana. His understated, relaxed posture, while he produces intricate bluegrass and Cajun-style fiddle sounds, make me want to learn that technique.

There may be plenty more violinists and fiddlers to add to this list as time goes by, but for now I have given you all something to think about - or listen to, as the case may be. Life is too short not to hear (and make) great music.

December 2012 ------------------------------------------

Introducing: David Garrett, Ann Fontanella, Jun Sung Ahn, Lucia Micarelli

Re-Orientation

Dear readers, please forgive my month-long hiatus! I have been ill for a time and struggling with various shadows, but I am beginning to emerge and I take up my metaphorical pen again to address the intricacies of life.

In my absence, I have sat upon a windy hilltop and let the sun warm my face as the wind tossed my hair into my eyes. I have sat at the piano and sight-read pretty (and challenging) tunes as the mood struck me.  I have roasted garlic and turned it into a delicious, soothing soup. I have woken in the wee hours of the morning to pouring rain and lain in silence, listening. I have chortled over silly verses from my childhood in the pages of a leather-bound library book. I have dazzled an impromptu crowd with my newly-acquired fiddling repertoire.  I have wept, and cried, and sobbed for grief, for love, for memory. I have sketched a melody for instrumental accompaniment for a new song.

So yes, I have lived. I may not have written anything here during all that time, but I was most certainly alive.

"The human experience" is a phrase so commonly invoked, yet its meaning is incredibly diverse and complex. We often speak of universal themes and typical events, yet on an individual basis we often feel alone and confused by the unique expressions involved in our existence.  I could keep on generalizing, but the experience I know best is my own.  Paradoxes have always fascinated me, perhaps most strongly because of the very nature of their reality: a contradiction which reveals a truth. My discovery of my humanity has resulted in the realization of multiple paradoxes or opposing dynamics which coexist in one nature.  I maintain the belief and disposition towards good which is inherent in my nature, though my flaws and weaknesses may tempt me to evil and distrust of others. Humility and self-esteem need not wrestle for dominance, for in fact they can walk hand-in-hand... yes, I am weak and little, and yet I am loved as I am and for who I am. This is the beautiful truth of God's love for me and all human beings. 

Human love can be inspired, uplifted and purified by Divine Love.  I am learning to love until it hurts, and that love without sacrifice is merely admiration or affection. There is a tipping point for the human heart, too, beyond which I can enter into a deeper level of regard and goodwill for another person.  Love draws me out of myself, away from self-pity and vanity and allows me to flourish in serving others. When I love, I can be more considerate, more productive, more creative and more joyful by giving and sharing with others. Life should be loved, not merely lived, because it is too short to die.

Fiddling Around

Long ago, I picked up a fiddle and started to play. I studied the violin from the age of seven. Some people think that the fiddle and the violin are two entirely different instruments. If you are speaking about an older version of the instrument, then, yes, there are anatomical differences. If not, they are one and the same - the reason they have different names is that it depends on how the instrument is played. A violin can almost magically transform into a fiddle in the hands of a skilled musician. So I am a violinist, and I am a fiddler. My skills at playing classical styles are better developed than those of fiddling (Bluegrass, Celtic fiddling, Gypsy music, and other folk styles), though I long to study more fiddling.

Though the name "violin" is lovely on its own, when speaking colloquially I prefer to use the term "fiddle". It evokes a certain nostalgia which opens unto a world of idylls and tears.  Scottish fiddler Aonghas Grant says it best: "You moved into a different world...It was a great comfort to you, playing the fiddle. It was a sweetener" (Fiddler Magazine, 2011). Fiddling culture revolved around an alternate existence, since the act of making music was an escape from the drudgery of routine as well as a form of deep emotional expression. As a folk art, fiddling was like the oral tradition of storytelling in that very few tunes were ever transcribed until recent years. Fiddlers would begin young and become familiar with the instrument, playing by ear and sight until they learned hundreds to thousands of fiddle tunes. In the Highlands of Scotland, dances, fleadhs and ceilidhs were the primary outlets for making this music. Many tunes reflected the beauty of the natural landscape and others captured the essence of local legends.

My own experience with fiddling began early in my musical education. One of the first pieces I learned to play in elementary school was an American fiddle tune, a "Hoe Down" - the sort of piece that would be played after coming in from the fields, as folks gathered together.  In the next few years, I learned a few Stephen Foster pieces, including the well-known "Oh Susanna". My first year playing in the district honor orchestra allowed me to learn more popular American fiddle tunes in a medley, and my middle school orchestra introduced me to "Corn Pone County", "Blue Fire Fiddler", and other delightful pieces of music.  I also began to learn Celtic tunes, famous Irish songs and folk and fiddle tunes.

My private lessons were centered around classical music, and in the summers I studied jazz improvisation. I never considered myself much of a soloist or virtuoso-in-training; I much prefer chamber ensembles and orchestras for performance. At home, though, I love to spend time composing my own tunes, usually lyrical tone-poems and folksy melodies, meant to be unaccompanied. Of course, I aspire to learn solo repertoire to improve my technique and because there are pieces for which I have developed a certain fondness, one of them being Felix Mendelssohn's violin concerto No. 3 in E minor. Right now, I am working on learning the Old Time Fiddler's Repertoire as well as the above-mentioned classical piece. I am also composing again.  Musically, there is so much that I want to learn, so much to experience, and life is just too short to die.

A Rosy Glow

All around the world today, people are celebrating love.  Some say it started with the legend of St. Valentine, an early Christian bishop and martyr who was said to have written letters from his prison cell. One version of the tale has it that he converted his gaoler's daughter (I intentionally used the older spelling of "jailer") and wrote her a parting note which he signed, "your Valentine."  In the United States, schoolchildren exchange little notes called "Valentines" and candy or little toys.  Teenagers might go out for ice cream and walk holding hands along the street. It's a day for chocolates, teddy bears, red roses and other sentimental displays of affection.

To me, most of the hype is pretty childish and silly. However, I have many fond childhood memories of this day:

In the morning, I would wake to little heart-shaped notes at my place at the breakfast table.  When I opened them up, I would find a short message from my parents telling me how much they loved me along with some Scripture to remind me of how precious I am to God.  In preschool, we drank pink-colored strawberry-flavored milk in honor of the occasion (they should just call it Red-and-Pink Day).

There were always cookies, some with frosting and sprinkles and heart shapes for lunch at the school cafeteria.  In my classroom, we would prepare little themed notes and tuck them into a pouch for each of our classmates along with some chocolates or a fun game. Disney characters and popular cartoons abounded on our Valentine notes with cheesy messages that came in a box we could buy at the grocery store in a set that had enough for the class, including a special note for the teacher. Usually, I would return to my desk after distribution to find piles of chocolate M&Ms, Dove chocolates, and other red-themed candies.  Sometimes there would be a puzzle or word search when I unfolded the notes. One year I got a little stuffed alien doll with a big metallic heart on his purple tummy, the most unusual Valentine's gift.  In high school, you could pay 50 cents to buy a singing telegram and candy for someone you liked, or for a good friend.

There was one special friend that I will always remember, however, who never forgot me on Valentine's Day.  We weren't in the same grade, so it was that much nicer that he would bring me chocolates and a tiny stuffed bear or some other trinket every year on February 14th. He was a sweet little boy, and the year I remember most was my 5th grade year, because I had gone to science camp that week and was not expecting to be there on Valentine's Day. Interestingly enough, it snowed so hard that we had to be evacuated and were brought home the night after we arrived at camp. The next day, I went to school, and there was my little friend waiting with a big chocolate heart. I was so touched that he remembered and prepared something for me even though I would have been away at camp had it not been for the snowfall.

It's the thought that counts, after all. Those external things, the little gifts, are just ways of showing how much we care about someone, not by the price tag, but by the fact that we were thinking of them.

Think about it. God sends us "Valentines" every day - in the loving friends and family that surround us, in the stranger that smiles at us on the street, in a butterfly swooping over the back gate, in the sun shining in the sky; He sends rain for the crops, food for the hungry, solace for those who are anxious.  God is Love, and His love flows down through us to one another, bringing us together.  Today, I'm grateful for all the love in my life, and I know Who to thank, because life is too short to die without having loved.

Sweets to the Sweet

Now, I know this is not a food blog. My blog is about living. But frankly, if we are going to talk about living, then we are definitely going to have to talk about food.

That being said, who likes gingerbread? I can recall the taste of gingersnaps my fourth grade teacher kept in a bag on a certain shelf in her classroom, the little gingerbread houses we formed around milk cartons and decorated with Necco wafers in fifth grade, and the fresh-baked gingerbread house my sister and I cooked up just a few years ago. Gingerbread has a warm, sweet and spicy scent that I will always associate with comfort, family, and chilly winter days.  The idea of a candy house, I suppose, dates back to the story of Hansel and Gretel, a German tale (appropriately, since gingerbread also comes from Germany) in which a brother and sister become lost in the woods and find a charming little cottage made entirely from edible sweets.

This week, the gingerbread made another appearance - this time in the form of a sweet little train, complete with engine, cargo car, and caboose. Granted, it was not remotely made from scratch (it actually came from a pre-baked Wilton kit), but that little train sure looked cute. And it smelled good, too.  My little brother and I assembled the gingerbread train with the provided icing and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves trying to get the candy pieces to stay put. It was actually my first time piping icing for a real project. Thank goodness a friend had taught me a couple piping tricks just a week prior!

Decorating the gingerbread train!

What do you think? Not bad for a first-timer, right? It looks too good to eat. The wheels were definitely a challenge, since the peppermint disks were fairly hefty and tended to slip from their position as hubcaps.  The rest went fairly smoothly, thanks to my newly-acquired piping skills. Huzzah!

Anybody who likes to decorate cakes and other desserts for kids and with kids will tell you that Wilton is king.  They make all sorts of fascinating tools, sugary products and mixes to help busy moms figure out a fun way to incorporate baking into their children's lives or to somehow concoct a themed cake their child would love.  Granted, Wilton is not just for kids - it can also be for professional bakers and decorators, but the point is that their company is all about making it doable, even for those of us who have not attended culinary training. By the way, this is free advertising... if I try or hear about something I like, I might be inclined to share it.

Speaking of which, if you need a superb decorating job done for any event and you live near Greensboro, North Carolina, check out My Two Sweetie Pies, a local bakery. The artwork in cookies, cakes, cupcakes, and cake pops is amazing. I have watched several dessert-based TV competitions and this baker's creativity tops them all, in my opinion.

Sweets to the sweet! Life is too short to die, anyway.

Where the Wind Blows

We've been having the loveliest weather this past week in California. Warm sun and cool breezes all around... perfect for taking walks, riding bikes, or sitting in the backyard with a good book soaking up the Vitamin D.
I've been busy writing and reading for school most days, but I did find the time to make a beaded bracelet set and write a few letters. Yes, that's right - old-fashioned, handwritten letters that you send in the mail.  I have dear friends who live far away, not to mention my only sister and my older brother who live in different states.  Though the regular post takes longer than an email to arrive, nothing beats the timeless charm of a handwritten letter. I thoroughly enjoy scratching out line after line of cursive script, asking for the latest news and telling of the latest adventures. Usually, my recipients enjoy it, too. Receiving personal, handwritten mail is always a nice surprise and written correspondence is a treasure between friends.
I'm beginning to see a theme for this year - ideas. It's all about ideas, innovation, creative thinking - in my classes, at home, among friends.  Brainstorming and planning and conceptualizing are becoming second nature, and it is thrilling to be part of something so dynamic and positive.
What's next, I wonder...
After all, life is too short to die.

Starting Over

We just celebrated the lunar new year, in Chinese and Vietnamese culture. If you go to Chinatown, you might have seen bright red ribbons, firecrackers and dragons all around, and little paper envelopes hung on tree branches stuffed with money. People eat oranges for joy and noodles for long life in China, and in Vietnam they make special rice cakes filled with mung bean paste and pork.  Having a sweet tooth, I like the candies most of all - hard milk candies, mung bean cakes, moon cakes filled with suet and egg yolks and taro and durian... trays filled with dried candied fruits: carrots, lotus stems and seeds, wintermelon, cherimoya, tamarind and ginger.  All those delightful and strong smells of the food and relatives' perfume wafting through the air are nearly intoxicating.

That being said... it's a new year! With hopes for good health and prosperity, we start afresh.  For me, this year is more new than any other has been.  The previous statement might sound a bit odd, given that each year is new in its own right, but to me it is quite significant.  Not only does the sun rise and set on a new day, one after the next, but I am surrounded by different people, new things, and the sometimes overwhelming prospect of saying goodbye.  You'd think that maybe I'd have learned by now, how to say goodbye. Or perhaps it isn't so much the "saying goodbye" as it is never looking back.  I'm conflicted over whether or not looking back is a good or bad practice - and which way will lead me to learning a valuable lesson.  A little heartbreak and loss later, I'm seeing life in a different light. I pray that it will never be the "light" or lens of bitterness, though that cloud is hovering near.

This year, I want to be grateful in every circumstance for my numerous blessings and even the hardships themselves, valued for the lessons they will teach me and the strength they will prod me to discover.  "For though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak," the Scripture teaches us.  With each year that passes and is added to my age, am I growing in wisdom or foolishness? Am I becoming someone who cares for others or someone who is only concerned with myself? - in this examination, I look now to my daily life, my actions and see how they reflect my interior life better than any verbal description... and I find myself sadly lacking. But you know what? That's a good thing, in the sense that I can now point out specific areas for improvement and set realistic goals for rectifying my ignorance and neglect.  "O happy fault! O necessary sin of Adam, that gained for us so great a Redeemer!" proclaims the Exsultet sung at the Easter Vigil each year.

Now I pray:
"Thank you, Lord, for my littleness and my weakness. Allow me to glorify You now through my life and my personal conversion of heart! Thank you for allowing me to see all of my wrongs that I may make reparation for them. Give me a measure of Your intense sorrow for my sins, that I may firmly commit to changing my life and never again returning to those transgressions. Cover me with Your Precious Blood and purify me in the fire of Your Love! Then let me set fire to the whole world..."

Because life is far too short to die.