Midsummer Musings

Greetings to my faithful and beloved readers. I regret that it's been so long since I've posted an actual entry regarding my thoughts, feelings and two cents on life and the world. Therefore, this post will have to serve at my attempt to reconcile with my long silence.

First of all, I'm back at my parents home for the summer months. It's been an adjustment, being back at home, not least of all because all five of my siblings are also living here. Despite inevitably losing some freedom by living again under the roof of my parents, I'm okay. College was truly a wonderful experience for me, but there came with it a lot of pain and I'm glad to have some time to recuperate before I jump back in again. I think I will be ready by the time the day comes to move.

Being home also means working; having a job and making money. This is good. My work-study job at the school library during the academic year was definitely not my favorite. Not to mention, having a bit of money is nice too; during the school year, 85% of my wages went toward tuition, so twice a month, I would have about $15 deposited into my checking account. I always tried to stretch it is much as possible at the grocery store or the Salvation army, but despite my efforts, it only would amount to a couple boxes of granola from the organic aisle sometimes a good steal at the thrift store, and a few dollars left over to save for coffee or a movie ticket. So, being employed is nice.

I really enjoy my job, too. I am a PCA, and for those of you not familiar with the title, it means "Personal Care Assistant." Basically, my job is that of an intensely focused role, between a babysitter and a social worker, much of the time. I'm more directly involved than a babysitter would be, (plus, as is the case with my clients who are children, their parents and I work together as a team through their issues) but less of a therapist than a social worker would be.  I love my kids like they were my own.

I've been thinking about all the changes the past 11 months have brought to my life, and I can say with certainty that it has been a dynamic year. I'm glad of that. Even though I've fallen flat on my face (metaphorically speaking), I've learned perhaps better than ever before to understand the grace that comes with picking ourselves up again. I've learned so much about who I am, and who I wish to become. I've loved and been loved, hurt and been hurt. And in the middle of the swirling vortex of what is life and existence I've realized: all of this pain and beauty is part of what makes us human. And I love having the gift of being human, and being alive. To wake up with each new day and breathe and to have the ability to make my love known to the world. It's a wonderful thing.

This past weekend my friend Destiny and I went to Lilith Fair, (for those of you not familiar with Lilith, it's an all-female music festival; like Feminist Woodstock). I was blown away at the talent and power of the music. Being a musician myself, I felt inspired by the versatile abilities of many performers. I've been playing the violin since I was 6, and I have decided that I would like to expand my instrumental repertoire. My mother used to play the acoustic guitar when she was about my age. In fact, some of my earliest memories involve her playing while singing "Blowin in the Wind" and "One Tin Soldier." Her guitar is in beautiful condition and I am hoping to take lessons this coming semester. I've been playing around with different melodies, so maybe by the time I go back to school I'll know one song.

Another skill I am hoping to master is language; particularly the Croatian tongue. I checked out audio curricula to help, and my grandpa has been teaching me some phrases as well. I hope that I will have a decent grasp on the language when my little brother and I travel out to the Motherland two summers from now (or at least that's our plan at the moment).

You know, I really wish I had some decent photographs for this blog. I don't have a camera of my own right now. See, being sort of an old soul, I had hoped to master film photography with my grandpa's old camera. I had a fun time shooting pictures, but was informed that my camera has a light leak; none of the pictures turned out. Maybe I'll give in and just get a digital. Until then, I will have to hope that my words are visual enough.

I'm really beginning to ramble now, so I will end this post. I hope all of my readers are well.

The Young and the Hopeless

As one of six children, I've experienced a wide variety of music through the years, swapping CDs with my brothers and sisters. This week, I found an old CD of my brother's and began listening to it with a new set of ears. The Young and the Hopeless by Good Charlotte, a 2002 album, was something I would listen to occasionally back in the eighth grade; in retrospect, it is an excellent presentation of music and lyrics.

The Madden twins, Joel and Benji, are the most recognizable of the band. Truthfully, I know little about the other members of Good Charlotte. What I like about the Madden brothers and the lyrics of their music is the message to never give up, to have hope, even when times are hard. The album features tracks that allude to the twins' father leaving their family, such as "The Story of My Old Man" and "Emotionless." The lyrics to "Emotionless" are very sad but touched with a feeling of peace and forgiveness:

It's been a long hard road without you by my side /Why weren't you there the nights that we cried /You broke my mother's heart /You broke your children for life /It's not ok but we're alright /I remember the days you were a hero in my eyes /But those are just a long lost memory of mine /Now I'm writing just to let you know /I'm still alive

My favorite track is probably "Hold On," whose message is exactly what the title implies: hope.

I definitely recommend The Young and the Hopeless. It's a good mix of the difficult feelings typical to teens; I vividly remember those times of anxiety and rebellion and wanting to break out of my shell; Good Charlotte provided a positive, encouraging and charmingly punk soundtrack to it.

Capuccinos and Poetry

One of my favorite things about University life is all the creative outlets I am allowed. On Friday, I participated from a collaborative poetry reading combining poets from both my private university and the larger state university at a bohemian style coffeehouse downtown.

I read two of my own poems, following a sort of free verse personification of myself into a fish in the first poem, and a bird in the second. A friend of mine filmed by performance of my bird poem, for those of you who are interested in hearing it.

(Please excuse the watermark on the video; I didn't want to pay for the software to remove it.)

Canadian Ladies

Earlier this semester I was fortunate to see one of my favorite groups perform in concert. Heather Masse, Nicky Mehta and Ruth Moody make up Canadian folk trio, The Wailin' Jennys. I've been a fan of folk music since my days in junior high. The Jennys offer their own blend of sounds with meaningful and heartfelt lyrics The multifaceted talent of these women (and their fiddler and mandolinist, Jeremy Penner) is displayed through a wide range of vocals (alto Heather, mezzo Nicky and soprano Ruth) as well as the guitar, harmonica, accordion, among other instruments.

The timelessness of the Jennys' music is evidenced in the words to their angelic music:

"Got a heart that opens clear in this cool September dark /It rests on treetop leaves /And bursts its little sparks /And sometimes it sings its songs /And it lets its secrets out /Except for one that sears inside /That it cannot live without /But if I tell you will you take it /Will you shine it up to me /Can you be strong to let me go on /And set this freedom free"

-"Ten Mile Stilts" from 40 Days

The Wailin' Jennys are true artists with a deep insight into the beauty of life.

Snow and Music

A few months back, I signed up to be a DJ for campus radio. Since that time, I have been searching to broaden my repertoire of music. Two talented women have recently made my playlist of lesser known, artistic music.

American harpist, pianist, singer-songwriter Joanna Newsom was suggested to me awhile back by a friend, but I hadn't discovered her beautifully bizzare music for myself until very recently.

Newsom's whimsical lyrics and eccentric voice make a unique sound that is very fresh and original. There is an element of wonderment in each of her songs.

We sailed away on a winter's day/With fate as malleable as clay/But ships are fallible, I say/And the nautical, like all things, fades and I/Can recall our caravel:/A little wicker beetle shell/With four fine maste and lateen sails/Its bearings on Cair Paravel

-"Bridges and Balloons" from The Milk-Eyed Mender

The wonderful world of Pandora introduced me to Canadian instrumentalist and singer-songwriter Basia Bulat.

Bulat's soulful voice versatilely compliments songs of sentiment as well as power. Her variety is impressive; both lighter folk sounds and faster, stronger music is found on her debut album, Oh, My Darling. In addition to her talent as a lyricist and vocalist, Bulat plays the guitar, dulcimer, ukelele, autoharp and piano, which she incorporates into her varied songs.

Both women are real artists of their medium, and I recommend them to anyone with a taste for music with a deeper meaning. 

Tree Hugger

I am a highly emotional person. And don't get me wrong, I love having the capacity for feeling that I do. I wouldn't have it any other way; I like being able to feel human. Yet...

There are times when I need centering. I often need to reevaluate my current situation before getting too carried away with the moment.

For these reasons, solitude is vital to my well being. I love people very much, but when my mind whirls with emotions so violently that I can't hear my own thoughts, I need to get away from it.

I am, again, so sure that I've chosen the right college. The landscape here is teeming with beauty, and when I need to be alone, (weather permitting) I can walk through woods and fields and just be still in the silence.

God is so alive in nature. I know that "tree-hugger" can carry a negative connotation with it, but I am not ashamed to say that I am one. When I feel alone and sad, perhaps the most comforting thing I can to is wrap my arms around the trunk of a tree and hold it tight. This actually physically centers me, as well as providing me with a sense of emotional stability. I honestly believe that if more people did this; actually took a moment to be a part of nature; many problems could be caught and solved in a positive way. Ever since I was little I have found the act of hugging trees to be such a comfort, and I am thankful that it still helps me today.

Photograph by Blasius Erlinger.

The Outsiders

"I could picture hundreds and hundreds of boys living on the wrong sides of cities, boys with black eyes who jumped at their own shadows. Hundreds of boys who maybe watched sunsets and looked at stars and ached for something better. I could see boys going down under street lights because they were mean and tough and hated the world, and it was too late to tell them that there was good in it, and they wouldn't believe you if you did. It was too vast a problem to be just a personal thing. There should be some help, someone should tell them before it was too late. Someone should tell their side of the story, and maybe people would understand them and wouldn't be so quick to judge a boy by the amount of hair oil he wore."

It is the early 1960’s in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Ponyboy Curtis, a newly turned fourteen year old, finds himself caught up in the growing tensions between the poor gang he and his brothers belong to, the lower class "Greasers," and the elite "Socs," rich kids from the other side of town. Raised by his older brothers, Ponyboy, is somewhat outside of the gang himself. Smart and very sensitive, he loves books and movies, and constantly struggles to find his place of belonging amidst the inevitable severity of his life. He dislikes fighting and constantly questions the nature of the hate between groups as well as his place it it.

"Soda fought for fun, Steve for hatred, Darry for pride, and Two-Bit for conformity. Why do I fight? I thought, and couldn't think of any real good reason."

I remember my mom praising this book when I was little and, as she said, "not old enough to read it." Somehow, even when I was "old enough," The Outsiders slipped under the radar of my reading aspirations. Now, I am infinitely grateful to finally have read it; it has opened up windows in my mind and heart to real problems that are still prevalent today. It may not be Greasers and Socs anymore, but there is still so much animosity that can exist between people with differences, whether is be social classes, cultures or subcultures, ethnicities, lifestyles... I love this book because it is a story that radiates truth: whatever walk of life you are on, we are all human beings and, deep down inside ourselves, we are not much different from the next person.

Sometimes, as a female, I find it hard to relate to a book consisting almost entirely of males. This is definitely not the case with The Outsiders. It was beautiful to witness, through Ponyboy's voice, the wide range of emotion faced by the young men in the book. I was touched to see the fierce loyalty and brotherly love that Ponyboy and his gang held for one other.

The compassion this book invokes in its reader reminds me of the film Boys Town, when Father Flanagan says, "There is no such thing as a bad boy"... I wanted to open my arms to Ponyboy and bring him out of the near constant violence and hate that the surrounded him. I'm amazed that such a powerful work was written by a sixteen year old girl (who, at that time, earned a "D" in her creative writing class). In Ponyboy, S.E. Hinton captured the spirit of a boy whose pure heart was yet untainted by the adversity that encompassed his world; a bright light in a cavern of darkness.

One of the most powerful passages is from a note written to Ponyboy from his dying friend,

"I want you to tell Dally to look at [a sunset.] He'll probably think you're crazy, but ask for me. I don't think he's ever really seen [one]. . . There's still lots of good in the world. Tell Dally. I don't think he knows."

I cannot recommend The Outsiders highly enough. Read it.