Arms

Arms. We've all got em. Some people have long arms. Some people have short arms. Some people have 1 arm and most people have 2, but one kid has 3 . My problem is that I'm not sure what to do with mine. I'm talking about solos here. I'm working on a down stand solo, and I really have to make it interesting, and I think the key to interesting is arms. I've been watching all sorts of taiko videos and people are doing wonderful things with their arms: there's flipping and turning and all kinds of spinning going on. Why am I having such a hard time trying to figure out what to do with mine? I figure, arms are pretty much fixed to the body so there are only a limited amount of movements possible. There is up/down, side-to-side, and a range of circular movements that are just variations of up/down and side-to-side.

The story behind this solo is that I worked on it and had it all set for the concert, and what happens is that the solos happen one after another with a cue that one soloist gives to the rest of the group to signal that her solo is over and it's time for the next person to start. Problem was, was that I heard the cue, but the others didn't, so they were all kind of like, huh? and I was starting my solo and it just totally threw me off. I wound up noodling and trying to remember how my solo went and ended up only playing half of it. Since then I've been traumatized by the whole song and just thinking about it embarrasses me horribly. But I think the one thing that saved me and kept me from running off the stage and curling up into a ball in the dressing room is some advice I read once in a drumming book, which is: when in doubt, roll.

Anyhow. I am determined now to get over my embarrassment and come up with a really good set solo for that song. It's not going to go away, and it really is a good, solid, crowd-pleasing song. There's no reason to be scared, and I'd like to just conquer this. When I first learned the song, it was really exciting to hear how the different parts really locked in together, and I was like, wow! I didn't know taiko could do that!

So, I've still got the problem of what to do with my arms. The person I'm playing with does things with her arms that make you wonder if she has special joints installed. Her solo is really fun to watch, and I know that at this point in my solo-composing career that anything I do will kind of pale to her solo. Which is fine, it just means I have a lot to learn.

TAIKO!

My mind is spinning. I'm all inspired and excited and sleepless again because I got to play some taiko. It's not as easy as it was before--maybe because the expectations are different and that's fine. I don't need to go over each piece and part slowly over and over again--I'm more able to jump right in. If she says play this, then it's like, ok, I have to play that. But I'm realizing that my understanding of music is all about listen and repeat, and I need to learn some really basic stuff. She was showing me her notes and although it was written out on graph paper instead of western musical notation, it was all gibberish to me. And another time she was like, can you play the "one" downbeat on this drum and the other downbeats on that drum? And it took me a while, because I wasn't sure what the "one" was, and I only just recently understood what a downbeat is, but eventually I got it. I'm so glad she's so patient with me. Oh, and did I mention the song is in six?

Which means I have to try harder. That's the best part. I like trying harder. The challenge is hard and a little intimidating, but that's really what it's all about, pushing yourself. But I also need to be able to give more input, and I know that's one of my weaknesses--not just with taiko, but with me in general. And another one of my weaknesses is the ability to remember what I've just been taught. It's ok if it's a call and response thing, but I need to remember. Of course, that's what my minidisc recorder is for, but yesterday it decided to stop recording after about 5 minutes or so, which for me is like getting amnesia. I know it's bad to rely on that thing to learn songs, but it also is such a help to me when I can review what I've recorded. If the technology is there, and there's no reason not to, then why not use it? But it's not like in life there will always be MD's to save your butt, and sometimes they don't let you use them, and sometimes, if you haven't played taiko in a long time, your MD runs out of batteries.

Ah, but this is all good. I'm excited. I have a bunch of things to work on. I have a solo that I need to polish. I played it at the concert in November, but I messed up royally, and I need to just get over it and work on it again. I want to help rework another song we were working on. I need to hear how some patterns fit together. But I'm loving it!

Of 1-800-Dentist and Flaking Out on Taiko

I NEVER flake out on things. I need to start out by saying that. I am not a flake. But tonight I feel like such a flake, even though I know I'm not really, and a friend keeps telling me I'm not. I even called an hour and a half ahead to cancel. But I still feel like such a flake. I'm hoping posting to this blog will somehow redeem me. Or at least it'll be slightly interesting. Or maybe it will just make me feel better to get it off my chest.

Anyhow, for the past week, I've been in dental hell. Now let me tell you--I've been through it all. I've had braces--twice, retainer, headgear, rubberbands, major surgery with jaw-wired-shut, gum grafts, crowns, root canals, multiple extractions, more cavities than I have teeth, and canker sores spawned by satan himself. Mouth pain? Bring it on. But when I was in LA, a tooth that had been sensitive for a long time (kept putting it off, ignoring it) just erupted into full-on pull-out-your-hair pain. It was like getting your tooth drilled without novacaine. Like plucking out your fillings and then blowing on them and then eating ice-cream. Bad. The worst thing was that it hurt the most when I was lying down, as in, when I was trying to sleep. I haven't slept soundly in over a week.

Now, I just want to say that after watching my mom suffer, I have no right to talk about pain. What I felt was not real pain. It was just discomfort. Real pain is not blog-worthy. Real pain is something that only people a hundred times stronger than I can endure. I just want to put that out there. I'm being a big baby right now.

Anyhow. Have you seen those totally cheezy commercials for 1-800-Dentist? This blog entry is a totally cheezy commercial for 1-800-Dentist. Last December I went to my dentist in LA and he said if my tooth started to hurt bad later, then I ought to go see about a root canal. Well, it hurt. I was up here in the Bay Area, and I contacted 1-800-Dentist and right away they put me in touch with a dentist. Can I just say, I called on Tuesday morning, got an appointment for Thursday morning (that's today--I could have gotten an appointment for the same day, but was busy), and the universe being in the right alignment, or schedules falling just right, or karma, or Mom looking down on me to make things happen, or whatever--I'm done. Thursday evening and I'm done and there is only the residual ache of keeping your mouth open for an hour and raw gums and all that stuff that goes away in a couple of days. Hallelujah! Hallelujah for 1-800-Dentist! You have pain? Call them! They're totally worth their weight in cheese. The best kind too. Of cheese, I mean.

Anyhow. Things happened so fast. Dentist-guy called Endodontist guy and got me an appointment for 2 hours later. Last time I got a root canal, Endodontist-lady just talked and took x-rays. No same-day appointments like today. The guy was like, ok, here's what we can do, and if you like, we can give you a root canal, and I was like, ok, and then he had to leave the room and the nurse was like, here's your pillow and special goggles, and I was like, What??!?? You're going to do it right now? And she was like, Yeah, it'll only take an hour. But what I'm not telling you folks was that it was 4:15, and I had a date at 6 to go play taiko with taiko master J, and Endo-guy was busy and running late, and I knew that wisdom teeth (did I tell you it was my wisdom tooth? One of the main reasons why I was putting it off so long) might be a little tricky, and he even said so himself. So I was doubting this whole 1-hour concept, and my heart was beating fast, and I had other places to be, so I called Taiko Master J (TMJ) and told her, oh, can we re-schedule? And she was pretty cool, and asked, Is there anything wrong? And I was like, I'm sitting in the doctor's office and I'm about to get a root-canal. But of course she didn't have all the history like I just told you. And we re-scheduled for some time this weekend, depending on TMJ's schedule.

But then I was sitting in the death-recline of the dentist's chair (ok, endodontist) and I realized, Hey, I could have just told her I was going to be late!!! What an idiot I am! I was totally looking forward to this meeting for however long we were talking about it for!! Crap!! I SSOOOooo wanted to play taiko tonight!!! I was so looking forward to it!! I was even excited when I woke up this morning! And the thing that sucks was that I actually could have made our appointment! So Dumb! I feel so dumb! Especially since I told her I would make it, and have ALWAYS, always in the past made it to my commitments. I NEVER flake out!!! NEVER! I guarantee!!!! I'm always the one who's there early. But I didn't want to call her after I told her I wouldn't be coming to say that I actually could make it. That would be even worse. Oh I feel so bad. So dumb. I always jump the gun on those kinds of things. Always err on the side of caution. Because really, I had no idea how long a root canal on a wisom tooth would take. And I didn't want to be late. Oh, but I could have made it! And I need taiko in my life so bad! Oh, I'm such a jump-the-gun-idiot!!!

But like I said, we re-scheduled for this weekend. She's busy too--did I mention that? A busy person. And anyway, she was like (as I was reclining on the chair of no-return) Oh, I've had tons of root canals. At least you don't DIEEEE! And I, sitting the Endodontist's office, many months overdue for this root canal was like, Oh, you're not scaring me AT ALL! And she laughed, and promised to call this weekend.

I'm fine by the way.

Gone Fishin'

Went down to LA this past weekend for a father's day visit. My Dad invited me to go fishing with him on a boat just off the coast of where I'd spent my childhood summers boogie boarding and building sand castles. He likes fishing the way I like taiko. Actually, I think he likes fishing even more than I like taiko. He's been fishing since he was a teenager, but I think he put it on hold when he had us kids. He did take us out a couple of times to fish in nearby lakes. I remember once my older brother hooked my little brother's ear, and then I don't think we ever went fishing after that. But after we were all grown up and my dad retired, he totally got into it. He even joined a club and everything. As we were packing up, I realized that he and I are exactly the same:

Exhibit A: Dad's Stash


Exhibit B: Mine

Do you see the similarities? Am I my father's daughter or what?

Anyhow, we headed down to the Redondo Beach Marina and boarded a boat with a bunch of other fishermen. As we were waiting, my Dad taught me how to cast a line out without taking anyone's eye out (or ear). My Dad said the water that day was pretty smooth, but for a novice like me, it had that nauseating rolling quality to it. Good thing I took a pill--didn't feel a thing.

Now, I don't really think of myself as a fishing kind of person. Waking up early and boarding a boat to trick seafood into taking my bait isn't my idea of weekend plans. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Some people can't handle the sport; my little brother doesn't like the gore of it (maybe because he's traumatized by being caught by my big bro?). But I have to say--fishing is kind of fun. Actually, one of the funnest parts for me was putting live anchovy on my hook. You grab the little fish out of the bait tank and, according to my dad, cover its eyes so it doesn't squirm as much. Then you put the hook through it's nose and let it swim away and then hope something much bigger eats it. I don't know why this appealled to me so much. I did not torture insects or small animals growing up. I think it may have something to do with being at the top of the food chain for once. It's as if I'm out there pretending to be a lowly anchovy, but when a barracuda bites into me, I'm the one who's catching the barracuda. And I really did catch a barracuda this past weekend! I had to throw it back though--it wasn't the legal size--but hey, at least I can say, "Yeah, I caught a barracuda once--scrappy little sucker." My dad also turned his pole over to me when he had something very large on the other end. I apparantly "chased it down the rail," meaning I had to run down the side of the boat so that he didn't get tangled in the other fisherman's lines. It pulled and pulled, but it eventually got away. Yeah, it was gigantic--could have been a 65 pound yellow tail, maybe. Maybe 75 pounds. Almost pulled me in. Yeah. Well anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Here's what I actually pulled out of the ocean:

They may look small, but believe me--they put up quite a fight! And here's me and my dad. He listens to his ipod all the time. Reminds me of me.

Well, everyone should try fishing at least once.

Of Camping and Life and even Taiko

Went camping this past weekend at a spot near Santa Cruz called New Brighton State Beach. It's a beautiful place right up against the Pacific Ocean. The weather was perfect--warm but not too hot. We went swimming and made campfires and worked on our sunburns. The water was strange. We were bobbing out past where the waves were breaking and the water would be very warm, and then as a wave came by, the water would turn very cold. I've always been drawn toward the ocean, but at times it terrifies me--usually when I am in it. I think there is something very sexy about the ocean. It's this presense that is so much bigger than we are, and you can just walk right up to it and put your toes in, while at the same time it has the ability to swallow you up or hold you in its wide embrace or nourish you, and you can cup it in your hands and when you spread your fingers it's gone just like that.



I first came to this beach over 10 years ago. I have to credit the lady bus driver who saw us, Mary and I, as we emerged out of the Santa Cruz wilderness, cold and half-soaked from a night spent in the forest--no tent, no fire, nothing. We were looking for a weekend away from the university, so we grabbed some food from the dining hall and sleeping bags and water and set out with nothing but a few dollars and our good-anywhere university bus pass that we used to get us the furthest point on the bus route we could get. I have to admit that first night was a bit scary, since all I'd known of camping was the comfy tents and the warm glow of lanterns and nothing of the cold. The lady bus driver said she knew of this beach where you could just walk in and she dropped us off as close as she could get to the campground. We hiked in and slept on the ground without a tent in the middle of November. It was cold, but a true adventure. These days I opt for a tent and even acquired my first real camping stove (which is a real luxury, believe me). Someday when I grow up I'm going to invest in a folding chair and maybe a table cloth, but for now, I'll keep roughing it.

This was one of the best parts, check it out: I'm roasting chestnuts over an open fire!



And while I love camping, taiko continues to brew. I actually haven't been to class for a while, instead, have been enjoying living life a little. Did the running thing. Did the camping thing. Visited family. Saw an old friend. I'm working on finishing reading a really good book, which is something I haven't been able to do since my mom got sick. Just haven't had the concentration. For the longest time, all I did was fold origami cranes--thousands and thousands of them. Didn't want to talk to anybody. Didn't want to go out. Didn't want to watch tv. I just folded cranes first thing when I woke up, and on my lunch break, and stayed up late and folded cranes until I was too tired to do anything else (I'm trying to sell them on ebay, by the way). I had stuff to work out in my head. Oh, and at that time, I listened a lot to a cd of the sound of waves. Waves coming in, waves going out. Nice calm waves. Rhythmic in its own way, but definetly not taiko. Not do ko don. Not kara kara ka ka. No hups. I just felt like I had to take the time to just think and figure out all that happened and make sense of everything. After my last set of a thousand cranes, I realized that I was pretty much done with thinking, and needed to start living, so I didn't go out and get more paper like I'd been doing, and have instead decided that I need to do more. I need to go back to taiko.

Right now I don't want to get too specific. There are things I want to do. I'm trying to set up a few things, or maybe it would be more accurate to say that they're being set up for me. Have to give thanks to someone who keeps lighting little lanterns in this dark forest I seem to be wandering in. It's like I get so far, have something to look forward to, and then there's this other lantern that lights up further away, so it's like I'm starting to see a path. Can't say that the path is solid yet, can't say it's been set out any further than the furthest lantern I can see out there in the distance. It's like a Miyazaki movie. Maybe like Princess Mononoke or Spirited Away. The characters are lost, but not really, because they're searching for something, even though they're not quite sure what it is, and it's not all hokey pokey Disney like they're searching for who they are. There is some darkness there. There are uncertainties that never neatly work themselves out. I have to say I am really interested. But it's scary too, because I'm kind of alone, not that that is particularly scary, but I'm doing things I love to do in new ways in new situations I've not been before, and that's what's a little scary. But really, it beats folding cranes. Not that folding cranes is bad--I actually miss them a little, but I'm getting off my butt and out there and beginning to pursue things. I'm starting to live again.

Actually, honestly, I'm starting to get really excited. I'm starting to get really happy, and I haven't been really happy in a long time, and that ought to ward away the darkness a bit, until I can see the light of the next lantern.