First Night in Milan

I dreamed last night that I was

dancing and notes from you

appeared on colored printer paper

as we all whirled around the room.

They were written in

Oplinger's hand and it didn't

bother me because you two were

one and the same in my mind.

I saw your messy script admonish

Deutch to quit fucking up and I was

surprised because I know he was a

fantastic violinist when he played.

A pink paper folded haphazardly

told me in sharpie scribbles that

you missed the taste of my kisses and I

wanted to hold it in my hands

and read the words to myself but when

the dance was over it was

nowhere to be found.

You were standing under the archway of a

church in your oxford shirt and khaki shorts

and I asked you about Sweden.

You lit up a cigarette and told me it

was cool and I wanted to ask you

more things but your impatient apathy

made my throat close up so that

I couldn't ask you about the note

and I told myself that I would be settling

if we ended up together.

When I woke up I was disgusted with you

and it took a long time for me to

separate fact from fabrication

and as of now I'm still not finished

but don't worry because I'm not mad anymore.

Some thoughts on personality, emotions, and music

I have a lot of friends who are really into personality typing. I came to CMU thinking I was an ENTJ, since every letter seemed to fit on its own. I am extroverted to some extent, an intuitive thinker, logical, and very much about getting done what I set out to do. Over the past year and a half I've been pegged with at least five different labels, none of which I've fully understood. Recently, though, a couple of my best friends independently decided I'm actually an INFJ, with ample explanation (1,2,3) to back up their claims.

Image from DaveSuperPowers - T is thinking, S is Sensing

I'm actually inclined to believe them now, because I have noticed a lot of those characteristics showing up this semester. I say this semester because I've been putting myself way more outside my comfort zone than I ever have before. Being a TA, running the Women@SCS sisters program, and hosting the CISCO-sponsored Halloween party have required that I create a presence for myself and really own it. The process of constant self-critiquing has led me to really look at what I do and how much success I meet with when acting a particular way. I suppose that behavior, in and of itself, implies this type, which makes me even more comfortable with the label.

Before fully discrediting my acceptance of a label with "but you can't just put people in buckets!" let me point out that these types do not bind anyone to a set of mannerisms. What it does is suggest a pattern of behaviors which people may follow to varying extents. There are sixteen different labels, and each one of them is a continuous spectrum of matching. Continuous means uncountably infinite. There's more than enough room for all of us according to that system.

One thing I've noticed is that there's always a song or set of songs that perfectly capture my emotions at various points in my life. Finding the right song is like being able to pack the current state of the universe into a little box that I can pull out whenever I want to return to it. Some songs will appeal to me aesthetically, having elements that hint at a certain state of mind. Camille's live version of La Demeure d'un Ciel never ceases to call back the floaty feeling of freshman fall, of being simultaneously in and out of my element, of knowing that I was at the beginning of a potentially chaotic journey, of being okay with being in limbo. Car ici désormais est la demeure d'un ciel... By contrast, some of the songs that grab me are ones that I associate with a particular moment in time. I hear Extremo's rendition of Merseburger Zaubersprüche and suddenly I am in the car with John, listening to him sing along, my heart pounding. After everything that happened, the song can still bring back that excitement. Music has become my escapist drug of choice, and it's a hell of a trip.

It's more than just a trip, though. I'll often feel something that I can't quite put words to, and suddenly I'll find a song that does just that. Evanescence's Going Under is actually just me telling John what months of being put down and manipulated felt like. Together, Marina and the Diamonds' Mowgli's Road and Oh No! capture my waffling between being sure and confident versus helpless and terrified this past spring as I entered a new and insanely trying phase of my time here, being single and in over my head in classes, with some serious impostor syndrome to boot. From summer to now, Imogen Heap has pretty much been able to think for me, with 2-1, Canvas, The Walk, and Half Life embodying the set of conversations, both real and hypothetical, I was and have been having with myself and with others.

I've been wondering lately whether the music is doing me more harm than good. It's nice to know that someone else can say what I'm thinking, to know that I'm not alone. The problem, however, is that I don't know for sure that I do feel all of those things. It's not that I expect to relate to every line of a song, since many of them are coming straight from the artist's experiences. But for those that do resonate, how closely do I actually relate? A compelling orator can stir anyone to action; similarly, a talented artist can move his or her audience to feel. I have a strong external feeling function. I am especially sensitive to the feelings of others. When those feelings are similar to my own, what does it mean for me? Are my feelings amplified? Overpowered? Usurped? I don't know. I just want to know if my emotions are my own.

I'd like to think that I have the power to feel, independent of those around me. In the fast-paced, high-stress environment that is CMU, where I need my music to get me through the day, I just can't know for sure. Maybe that's why I prefer more non-English music lately. It's time away from me feeling what the artist is explicitly telling me to think, allowing me to be more creative with my interpretation of a piece of music. I can't understand it, so I can feel what I want without the words telling me. I think. Then again, there's just something about 'Ille Dhuinn, 'S Toigh Leam Thu that really gets me. Maybe I shouldn't have read the translation. 

I should really look at the calendar before I post hysterical things

That is all.

Rambles in the key of Imogen Heap

Inside out, upside-down twisting beside myself.

I have plenty going on. Full load of classes plus research and TAing. I'm keeping myself busy in the hopes that I won't have time for heavy thoughts. Obviously that hasn't worked; otherwise, I wouldn't be writing this.

I knew that I'd get like this again.

I've told myself everything was all hunky-dory from day one. I even convinced myself of it for about a month.  That's changed, a fact which I knew deep down was inevitable. At least no one else has noticed.

You said yourself this wasn't easy.

I did know this would be difficult going in, didn't I? Then why am I surprised now?

My self-worth measured in text-back tempo, it's been two days and eight minutes too slow.

Except that's not true. There's plenty of back and forth. I just feel guilty every time I start a conversation and have nothing to say. The truth is that I just want to be talking.

I'm dying to know what's in your head.

I don't, though. Because I know I'll be setting myself up for disappointment.

The stickler is you've played not one beat wrong, never promised me anything. Even sat me down, warned me just how they fall - I knew the odds were I'd never win.

Maybe that's why I'm feeling this way. It was better while we were having the conversation. But we don't talk about that anymore.

What of the wretched hollow, the endless in between? Are we just going to wait it out?

Two months isn't a very long time, and it hasn't even been that. What the hell is wrong with me? I know that whatever is meant to happen will happen at the end of this all. But this intermediate limbo is so hard.

Things are not always how they seem. They don't turn out always, don't quite turn out always how we think. Will we be ready?

That's what I'm scared of though. It was so easy to speak optimistically at the beginning about the unknowns to come. Stepping slowly towards that future, uncertainty settles in for real, and I realize I wasn't ready to bear that weight. I don't know how things are going to turn out, and I don't know how I'm going to feel at the end. Is it the same for you?

No I just can't sit still. Are we there yet?

We are, in fact, not there yet. So I should really just get over that fact and continue on with my daily life.

I'm dying to know, to help make some sense of it all.

I just want to talk, but I'm afraid to bring it up.

The more you look, the less you see. So close your eyes and start to breathe. Oh, you said yourself this wasn't easy.

I should focus. I shouldn't be putting this pressure on either of us. Again, why am I surprised at myself?

I feel a weakness coming on.

I feel alone, and I need you to confirm to me that I am not.

Tell me, is it my fault?

Am I pushing you away? This is your adventure, not mine. I have been so selfish. I'm sorry.

Life Soundtrack, Part 1

The Maryland public school system requires that high school students do a project each year involving the use of various literary vocabulary words and MLA citations. My AP English Lit teacher liked to bend the rules. During our senior year, to satisfy this requirement, she assigned to each of us the task of creating a fifteen-song soundtrack to our lives, songs that characterized our progression through early childhood, elementary, middle, and high school. For each song, we'd write a paragraph justifying its presence while including some vocabulary word, and then we'd do the MLA citation for it at the end.

As a highly introspective person, I enjoyed the project and got a lot out of it. Every memorable period in my life has had some piece of music associated with it, and I found it very hard to limit myself to just fifteen. Reading over my commentary now, I'm slightly embarrassed at the overly maudlin quality, which I'd like to attribute to the need to fill space. The songs themselves, though, are exactly the ones I would have picked again, given the opportunity. I'm listing them out here with the TL;DR just below.

1995: 

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod

Bonne Nuit (Brahms' Lullaby)

 - Lullabies my mom would sing to me every night. 

1996:

The Martian Hop

 - I liked little kid songs that pretended to be techno.

2001:

Musical Times Tables

 - I was the multiplication tables champion, and that was all that was important to me as a third grader. (Not like my parents' divorce a year prior was a big deal or anything...)

I Hope You Dance

 - I just liked the way this one sounded, but my mom would always tear up and hug me when this one came on. I didn't appreciate why until later.

2002:

You Can Close Your Eyes

 - This was another lullaby my mom would sing to me, but there was a section that always ripped me up.

"But I can sing this song // And you can sing this song when I'm gone. // It won't be long before another day. // We're gonna have a good time. // And no one's gonna take that time away. // You can stay as long as you like."

It took a while for reality to settle in with respect to my parents' divorce, and things were pretty ugly. My mom had remarried and was pregnant with my baby brother, my father forbade references to our stepdad as "Dad" around him, and my grandfather was dying of cancer. Lullabies were supposed to promise peace and safety, but this one talked about disappearing and lost time. I wanted certainty and got none. 2002 was a sad year. 

2003:

Russian Easter Festival Overture

 - Adventures in orchestra and the beginnings of teacher crushes. Orchestra remained the driving motivator in my life from that year on.

2004:

For the Star of County Down

 - More adventures in orchestra, with a Celtic twist. I had just started playing fiddle. ("Star of the County Down" and "The Rakes of Kildare" are okay, but "Gravelwalk" is a LOT faster than what is played here.)

2005:

Where Will You Go?

 - I found Evanescence as a sad seventh grader with no self-esteem thanks to my father and the guy I competed with in all aspects of life. There was nothing I could do to please the former; any mistake I made was a public embarrassment to him .The latter, though, was an insecure little boy who helped himself up by bringing me down. I recognized that and pitied him for it, but it didn't make the taunting or the insults hurt any less.

Field of Innocence

 - More Evanescence. Five years after the divorce and things weren't much better. Then I started learning the details of why things fell apart. 

2006:

10,000 Days

 - Spritual explorations led to me rejecting everything and slowly accepting only those things that I needed. I didn't come around full-circle, but I did become convinced that confirmation was the right step. Still living in doubt, but I'm in a place where that's okay.

Roses Are Red

 - A breath of fresh air from all the angst, à la Europop.

2007:

What the Devil Ails You!/Loch Ness

 - This is my favorite fiddle set, and I'd been playing it for four years by that point. I started getting involved in our local Celtic group, and my sound improved hugely at that point. If you'd like to hear it, I'd be happy to play it for you. 

2008:

La Folia

 - Suzuki Vol. 6, the first song in the book. Corelli's adaptation for violin of one of the oldest known chord sequences, in D minor. This was my song for the year and no one else's. I knew that I had peaked there, and it made me kind of sad. That's the choice you make when you decide not to be a career musician, though.

2009:

One Day I Slowly Floated Away

- Things finally started settling down and have been getting better since.

"Wake up in the morning. // I will wake up and so shall you. // And I'll wake up. The sun is beautiful. // And it is warming you and I, fragile as we lie."

The Harlaw Brosnachadh

The Battle of Harlaw was an incredibly bloody battle fought in Scotland on July 24, 1411. Two men, Robert Stewart, Duke of Albany, Regent of Scotland, and Donald, Lord of the Isles,  believed they had rightful claim to the Earldom of Ross, which was a sizable chunk of land in Northern Scotland. Several thousand men fought for it, and over a thousand men died. In the end, nobody really won. 

It was a petty fight over land, but it is an important part of Scottish history. Harlaw is the subject of a great deal of folk music, literature, and legends. Bonnie Rideout, an incredible (American) Scottish musician, released a two-disk album dedicated to the event, "Harlaw, 1411." On the first disk is a collection of traditional songs inspired by the battle. On the second disk are interviews, commentary, and anecdotes about the history. One piece that I particularly liked was Alan MacDonald reciting (accompanied by fiddle and pipes) the Brosnachadh (brɑz-nə-χɑʔ), Clan Donald's Incitement to battle, written by Lachlann Mór MacMhuiric earlier in 1411. 

I spent a long time yesterday looking for the text, and I finally found it here today. I want to learn to recite it myself, but it's going to take a while; the pronunciation is so difficult. In the mean time, I'm going to put the text here, so I can have it on hand. 

A Chlanna Cuinn, cuimhnichibh
Cruas an am na h-iorghaile:
Gu h-àirneach, gu h-arranta,
Gu h-athlamh, gu h-allanta,
Gu beòdha, gu barramhail,
Gu brioghmhor, gu buan-fheargach,

Gu calma, gu curanta,

Gu cròdha, gu cath-bhuadhach,

Gu dùr is gu dàsannach,

Gu dian is gu deagh-fhulang,

Gu h-èasgaidh, gu h-eaghnamhach,

Gu h-éidith', gu h-eireachdail,

Gu fortail, gu furachail,

Gu frithir, gu forniata,

Gu gruamach, gu gràinemhail,

Gu gleusta, gu gaisgeamhail,

Gu h-ullamh, gu h-iorghaileach,

Gu h-olla-bhorb, gu h-àibheiseach,

Gu h-innil, gu h-inntinneach,

Gu h-iomdha, gu h-iomghonach,

Gu laomsgar, gu làn-athlamh,

Gu làidir, gu luath-bhuilleach,

Gu mearghanta, gu mór-chneadhach,

Gu meanmnach, gu mìleanta,

Gu neimhneach, gu naimhdeamhail,

Gu niatach, gu neimh-eaglach,

Gu h-obann, gu h-olla-ghnìomhach,

Gu h-oirdheirc, gu h-oirbheartach,

Gu prap is gu prìomh-ullamh,

Gu prosta, gu prionnsamhail,

Gu ruaimneach, gu ro-dhàna,

Gu ro-bhorb, gu rìoghamhail,

Gu sanntach, gu sèanamhail,

Gun socair, gu sàr-bhuailteach,

Gu teannta, gu togarrach,

Gu talcmhor, gu traigh-èasgaidh,

Gu h-urlamh, gu h-ùr-mhaiseach,

Do chosnadh na cath-làthrach

Re bronnaibh bhar biodhbhadha.

A Chlanna Cuinn Cèad-chathaich

A nois uair bhar n-aitheanta,

A chuileanan confadhach,

A leómhannan làn-ghasta,

A onchonaibh iorghaileach,

Chaoiribh chròdha, churanta

De Chlanna Cuin Cèad-chathaich --

A Chlanna Cuinn, cuimhnichibh

Cruas an am na h-iorghaile.

TRANSLATION:

O Children of Conn, remember

Hardihood in time of battle:

Be watchful, be daring,

Be dextrous, winning renown,

Be vigorous, pre-eminent,

Be strong, nursing your wrath,

Be stout, brave,

Be valiant, triumphant,

Be resolute and fierce,

Be forceful and stand your ground,

Be nimble, valorous,

Be well-equipped, handsomely accoutred,

Be dominant, watchful,

Be fervid, pugnaciou,

Be dour, inspiring fear,

Be ready for action, warrior-like,

Be prompt, warlike,

Be exceedingly fierce, recklessly daring,

Be prepared, willing,

Be numerous, giving battle,

Be fiery, fully-ready,

Be strong, dealing swift blows,

Be spirited, inflicting great wounds,

Be stout-hearted, martial,

Be venomous, implacable,

Be warrior-like, fearless,

Be swift, performing great deeds,

Be glorious, nobly powerful,

Be rapid in movement, very quick,

Be valiant, princely,

Be active, exceedingly bold,

Be exceedingly fierce, king-like,

Be eager, successful,

Be unflurried, string excellent blows,

Be compact in your ranks, elated,

Be vigorous, nimble-footed,

Be ready, fresh and comely,

In winning the battle

Against your enemies.

O Children of Conn of the Hundred Battles,

Now is the time for you to win recognition,

O raging whelps,

O sturdy heroes,

O most sprightly lions,

O battle-loving warriors,

O brave, heroic firebrands,

The Children of Conn of the Hundred Battles --

O Children of Conn, remember

Hardihood in the time of battle.

I've been taking myself too seriously

I suppose it's easier now that I don't feel like my life is an Evanescence song. But, man, I've been gloomy. Lesson for the month: embrace insanity. It's great.