Happy New Year!

Last blog entry of 2007! Happy New Year everybody! 2008 will be filled with new adventures!! Go get yourself some punk!

New Pots

During my visit home to LA I decided to repot my mother's plants. Those are hardy beings--those plants. They managed to survive a couple of years without any TLC. It's either natural selection or stubbornness that kept them around so long. I'm sure they haven't been watered regularly--they've just been sitting out there waiting for the next rain. Anyhow. She kept wonderful cymbidiums, orchid flowers that blossom spectacularly in the spring time. That first year they bloomed with a vengeance, but I don't know if they did so well last year. I repotted what was left of her collection, and hope for the best:

But there are spikes of hope. That baby right there is going to be a string of blossoms:

She also had shelves of what I think are called "Christmas Cactus." These are orchids that bloom in furious and bright shades of fuchsia and violet during the holidays. There was no sight of blossom when I was there, but perhaps with new soil and a generous watering, they'll come back. They have mean, nasty thorns that break off into very fine tendrils that just grab onto your skin with the slightest touch and hold on like false eyelashes wherever you brush by them. The thorns are almost invisible, and they sting. I actually dug into an old, spidery pile of work gloves and chased out any inhabitants of the fingers in order to get some sort of protection against the thorns. At one point, as I was tweezing out the thorns, I asked myself, is this worth it? But it was. Here are her shelves, renewed:

And I also took home a few cuttings I hope to grow into all their former glory. That one on the bottom is the tiniest nubbin of Christmas cactus that was poking up from the soil in an overflowing pot. It has great potential and promise. If I can get a blossom out of that someday then all this will be totally worth it.

That circle of ceramic men are my Dad's. They get to stay home with him in their strange, naked football huddle of a dance. Or whatever it is they're doing.

Happy Merry Christmas!!

Have Elmo or Cookie Monster ever made for a Merrier Christmas than this one?

Happy Holidays everyone!! Lotsa updates to come!

Rope Splicing--ARGh!!

I've never been so frustrated with two pieces of rope in my life! I'm trying to join two pieces of rope togther, but ARGH! The picture above makes it look so easy, but gaddangit, I can't get those two pieces of rope to come together like that for the life of me. And I think part of the reason is because it is for the life of me. Or maybe a finger or an eye. I read that knots decrease the strength of rope significantly, but splices are way stronger. So I want to be able to splice the ropes instead of using all the wonderful bends I've learned to join two ropes together. I went to Home Despot tonight and tried to find a 100' length of rope but they only had 50' lengths, so I was like, well I'll just get two and then splice them together. I mean, in theory and in pictures it looks so easy, but it's not. SHeesh! There's something wrong with my brain that prevents me from following one strand of rope through those twists and turns. I'd like to say I have ADD but it's been confirmed time and time again that I have OCD.

How could it be so hard to keep 100' lengths of 3/8" manila rope in stock?!!

Stretch

Got the hide onto Janet's drum today. Things went really smoothly. It was good that I totally documented everything last time with pics. The only du-oh moment I had was when I realized I had brought the wrong rope with me. I can't, for the life of me, figure out what I did with the right rope. Had to use the old rope from last time, but need to get a new one since I have doubts about its strength when I start applying the real force with the hydralic jacks and then when I'm standing on top of this whole contraption. Having the rope snap when I'm up there is a scary thought.

Oh, and did I ever say that Janet has so graciously leant me a corner in her new space at RCW? It's all mine to stretch drums and pound nails and saw things without the fear of bothering the neighbors. It's such a sheer joy to have that. She also brought in a workbench for me to use (you have no idea how hard it is to saw things in between the arms of a chair). This is great.

Tonight we diddled and played a pattern that we call "Ju Ju Bees" (for the pnenomic we use to remember the pattern). Playing Ju Ju Bees is hard work, but my tai chi training helped and added a power to it that I hadn't used before. It's all about using your body efficiently and utilizing your core. Anyhow, it gave new life to the diddles I had been working on, so we'll see. The holiday season is kicking my butt, and I will be glad when it's over. The one thing I'm looking forward to is spending time with my family and seeing my one-year-old niece and maybe making cookies. Oh, and cleaning the house--but I'm not looking forward to that.

Re-heading

I volunteered to re-head Janet's drums. This suits my OCD personality, as well as gives me somthing to do during these long, long, cold winter evenings. Plus, it's the least I can do to repay the gift of my own drum. Anyhoo.

Re-heading consists of taking an old, worn-out taiko head off a drum, and putting a new one on. You go to the internet or the (remember these?) telephone and ask people to send you new hides and tacks to secure the hides to the drum. You also shove toothpicks into the holes left behind by the tacks you pulled out to get the old head off. That's a pain. Because I wanted to do things correctly, I sawed the toothpicks down, and then sanded them flush, and left myself with the dilemma of fixing the sanded parts of the drum with new coats of sealer and tung. Luckily, I have exhaustive (boy, do I mean, exhaustive) experience with sealer and tung. It looks something like this before the tung oil:

Oh sheesh, zoom out, it'll look more like this when I'm done:

Anyhow. That's what I'm up to. I have a hide that I will start marinating in my bathtub tomorrow (in between showering, of course), then on Sunday I get to do the first stretch. You've seen all these chronicles documented in depth already on this blog. But I like this. I wish I could quit my job and re-head drums for a living. Oh, and play taiko. And maybe make bachi.

College students are all starting to apply to college, so that leaves little free time in my life. Or rather, it leaves me with little free energy beyond processing college applications, reheading drums, and maybe stealing in a moment here and there to do stuff like brush my teeth, blog, and watch Ugly Betty. Oh, and sleep. But it's all good. The holidays are coming up, and I look forward to the free time. Gotta get there first.

Frost

The weather forecast predicts "patchy frost" for this evening. That's it. I give up on winter already. If you need me I'll be hibernating under a large pile of blankets.

I'd never survive an East coast winter.

Las Vegas

Spent Thanksgiving in Las Vegas this year. I really, really needed the vacation from my regular world to go to the strange, surreal world of Las Vegas. Actually, I needed a break from my regular world to go anywhere, but Vegas was on the calendar, so Vegas it was. Growing up, we went to Las Vegas on a semi-regular basis, so the flashing lights and gimmicky pyramids and general gaudiness weren't exactly the draw. There are plenty of other deadly sins to indulge in.

After I leave Vegas I always feel icky and a little disgusted by myself, but you know what they say: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Let's just say I self indulged and payed generously (but not too much so,) for it. After I got home today, I took a long, hot shower and scrubbed and scrubbed and breathed in the hot steam and enjoyed the tingle of Doc Bronner's Peppermint soap.

This is just a recap, since I'm too tired to go into too much detail. One of the best things about going to Las Vegas is the journey there. I like the starkness of the desert, and while it's nice travelling by car, it's more spectacular by air:

I think the desert is so beautiful. I always seem to find my way to the seaside in my travels, but one day I'd like to spend some time in the wrinkled heat of the high desert. After we landed we drove along the freeway that basically parallels the sinful parts of Sin City. They've been busy with construction since I've been there last. But I guess Vegas has always been a work-in-progress:
And look at those cranes below. I was wondering if they lit them up to go with the rest of the neon decor of the town, or if they work at night, or if they just don't want the planes to crash into them:And here is the lovely view from my room:At some point I'd like to get out to those mountains for a look-see. I'd like to feel the crunch of rock beneath my feet. Feel the heat rise up from the ground while the heat of the sun beats down on me. See the flash of lizard, the glint of quartz. Ah, next time maybe. . .

And yes, I gambled and enjoyed many buffets and stayed up way past my bedtime: I swear I'm never going back again. But that's what I said last time.

Horrible Childhood Memory Flashback:

I remember I would wake up at 5:30 in the morning and make myself bread and mayonaise sandwiches--which I would devour. Three or four at a time. What was I thinking???!!

Yuck.

Suckiness and stuff

Had a mini gig tonight. The Chamber of Commerce (I have no idea what a chamber of commerce is, by the way) was meeting at RCW and we had some of the teachers give little plugs for our classes. There was tai chi and dance and we were the taiko drummers, of course. It was just one song--my favorite with the most solid solo, but for some reason, my solo totally sucked tonight. Just couldn't pull it together. I blame it on the lights, which were flickering on and off, and the photographer guy who was flashing and getting all in our faces, and all those suits in the room. But no. I should have been more prepared. Or focused. Or, I don't know. I was totally not nervous about the song, but maybe a little fear is good. I've been performing that song for over 2 years now but I can't get cocky about it, I guess. Also tonight Janet made me talk. Yes, talk. Into a mic. In front of and to a bunch of people in suits. I spent a few minutes today going over what I wanted to say, but of course could not remember it. But I think I managed to say some coherent things. Talked about the song and my class. But I think I get all nervous and start sucking in too much air and get all out of breath. That happened last time. Or maybe I was out of breath. Eh. It's good experience though. Janet said nice things to me afterward so my ego is nice and puffy.

In other news, I've been reskinning one of the drums. It's going unbearably slow since I've been working on it in Janet's space and I have to schedule time to get in there. It's good to work there since I don't have to worry about our poor downstairs neighbor who can probably hear every sound I make, but slow. So slow.

Thanksgiving is next week, yo. I'm going to Vegas, and you know what they say: what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Or I think it would be more accurate to say that the money you bring to Vegas, stays in Vegas. It's all about Kino people. Yeah. And video poker.

Obi Fight 2007!!

Went to Texuba again today. Texuba is a rare opportunity to buy kimono and obi at discounted prices. As taiko players, we wear obi as part of our costume, but they're really hard to find. You don't just go to Macy's and pick one out. You can't really make them. Anyhow, this time the Texuba orginizers swore they were about to go into retirement and that this would be the last time (again) that they would be holding this event. Ok, whatever. I don't know if you remember the last time I attended Texuba. I was green and inexperienced that time. But this time I knew exactly what to expect.

First off, you bring a friend. They're your back-up, your wingman, your right hand man (literally--you bring them to grab stuff for you). I brought Kris again this year because she has experience already and also because she's small, quick and nimble. Secondly, you get there early. Last time I was 5 or 10 minutes late and it was like showing up for an after-Christmas sale on MLK weekend--there's nothing left. Anyhow. We were there half an hour early and even that felt late. The first 20 people got some free gift, but there must have been 50 people there already. Thirdly, you go in there with a game plan. The night before I showed Kris some of the types of obi I was looking for and told her the colors we were looking for. Janet, who was originally going to be my wingman (or was it the other way around?), had to back out at the last moment but asked for black obi, so we added that to our wish list. I wanted green.

The competition: cut-throat resellers and pushy, elbowy crafter/artists.

When they opened the doors, we knew exactly what to do. I grabbed an empty laundry basket and went left and Kris went right. Then you go through the racks like the worst kind of crazy, rabid bargain shopper and start rifling through and just grabbing anything that looks remotely interesting. Every once in a while my basket would suddenly get heavier and I knew that it was Kris dropping a load of stuff in it. She's good. But man oh man do I hate shopping like that. You just have to go in with a sense of humor and know that the polite rules of society don't quite apply until you've signed the credit card receipt and take your nicely stapled bag full of goodies out the door. When I bumped into people I said sorry, but certainly didn't expect any sorry's coming back in my direction when I got pummeled. No harm no foul. After you grab everything that looks interesting, you sort through what you want and don't. We walked out of there with 10 beautiful obi:

Those two grayish looking ones on the bottom are actually green, so I'm happy. I don't think I want to do that again anytime soon though. Enough obi for now. And boy, are my elbows sore.

Full Day

Woke up today after the CIA gig with the most horrible back-ache. I couldn't even bend over to put my socks and shoes on, but managed to make it to our gig in Berkeley. It was a good show. There were lots of children and adults in the audience. I talked, people! I led the group in kiai and managed to say everything I rehearsed in my mind, even though I was totally out of breath from our last song. I had to stop a couple times to gulp air. But I think I did ok! We got the audience kiai-ing and I led them in a kiai contest. Fun.

Then afterward I had enough time to go home, eat and shower before heading off to Emeryville Taiko's 10th Anniversary Concert. I realized halfway through the show that I'd never actually seen Emeryville perform--I'd always been part of their shows. They've really polished up some of their pieces since I've been gone, and added some I've never seen. They've got a wonderful procession song with lit nebuta and a dozen fue players and chappa players and okedo players. It was arm-hair raising, that procession. They've got great players and I was excited to see how far some of have come since I'd last seen them as beginners. They also performed a version of Kai to Ryu and though there were hiccups here and there, there was no train wreck. Wonderful. And of course they're super genki. That's something I take pride in, being a former Etaiko player myself. It was a great show. Great entertainment.

Gig at the CIA

Had our gig at the Culinary Institute of America in Napa today. Had to fight off the snooze button several times, but made it to RCW in time to load up and make the trek to California's famous wine country. It's beautiful out there, people. The grapevines are golden in the November light, and the trees are turning too. To get there you have to drive by dozens of beautiful wineries with their classic, simple architecture, and then through a small town that looks like something out of the movies. It was also nice that today was a beautiful, sunny, 80 degree day. Betcha makes you want to live in California, huh?

Anyhow, the CIA is a former monestary in the heart of wine country. Our gig was to play a set during the 1 1/2 hour lunch break in what was called "the Barrel Room." I think it should have been called "the Odaiko Room," since it housed several gigantic wine barrels. All we need to do is find some cows big enough to skin these babies:
This gig was part of some sort of international cooking conference. Special guests included Yan Can Cook (I don't know his real name--but I saw him. He was wearing a pink shirt!) and one of the Iron Chefs (the guy with a ponytail. I don't get food TV, but when I go to LA I fall asleep to episodes of the Iron Chef. I saw that guy too!) There were also other cooking celebreties, and Meri's eyes would light up each time we saw one and she would be like, hey, that's so-and-so! That's awesome.

As I've said before, it's a lost cause to try to get people's attention if there's food involved, even if you're pounding away on taiko. But I think it was a good set. Yes there were mistakes. The floor was crookedy, and the drums would literally slide away because it was so uneven. Plus there were tons of extraneous mics to play around, and the stage (or dance floor) wasn't as big as they said it would be. We didn't get as big as an audience as you would think, especially since they said there would be 600 people there. But there was an old guy watching us, and he seemed pretty enthralled because half way through our set he dropped and broke his wine glass, and someone ran up with a broom to sweep it up. And during my Kanki solo, the professional photographers came right up in my face and were photographing me for what seemed the longest time. Good thing my Kanki solo is set and I have my happy-playing-face down.

After our set we got to wander around and eat at all the booths that were housed there. It was a free-sample grab fest, and I walked off with a few goodies, and a full belly. Such good food! Such great flavors!

When we were loading out, I noticed a bunch of baby taiko drums, er, I mean, wine barrels just sitting there. If it weren't for the darn marimba taking up all the space in my car I would have rolled one of those barrels right into the trunk of my car.

But take a look at that line of spotty stains right across the front of that barrel. Boy do I know what caused that, and what can remove it!

Off again tomorrow to the lovely city of Berkeley where we are headlining our next show. I have to talk, so that should be interesting. Wish me luck!

The CIA

Tomorrow we play for the CIA. No, not that CIA--but the Culinary Institute of America. Personally, competing against food for attention, even while madly beating taiko drums, is a lost cause. The food always wins. We've been working real hard for this show, though. It's an opportunity to work toward something, and we've been composing a new song that we're going to perform for the first time, and we've also been polishing old songs that could use some performance experience. I just wish I had my Mokuyobi solo down, since I've been #$%^ing it up every time I try to pull it off in rehearsal. Sigh. Someday I'll have a solo for that song that I'm proud of.

Flu Shot

That's me getting my flu shot, but there was much more whining and moping afterwards. I was achy and cranky yesterday and today my arm still hurts, but hey, I'm vaccinated now. Nothing like being constantly surrounded by hoardes of college students that teaches you to get your flu shot when they offer them. I figure the 25 bucks I payed to get the shot (yes, I could have gone to my own hospital and gotten it for free--but I'm a sucker for convenience) would offset the cost of, say, aspirin and snot pills and cough syrup and kleenex. Not to mention the chicken soup and orange juice. I remember once I was so sick I couldn't cook for myself and was too wiped out to go to the store and I lived off of top ramen for days. Thank goodness for my Aunty who figured that college kids live off ramen and bought me a small case of the stuff. I threw it in the closet and forgot about it until I really needed it.

Oh, but once when I was a kid (just before kindergarden) I had to get some sort of vaccination and I SO did not want to get it, and I tried to fight off the nurse who was administering it. OH MY GOD was she strong! She was the strongest person I have ever met, and I don't know how she did it, but she stuck that needle in me and vaccinated the hell out of me. I just remember her grabbing my arm and me fighting. It was very obvious that she was going to win the fight, but I gave it my all--I tried to pull away, but she held firm, I pulled, she held. I think I even got some sort of lollipop afterward which I sucked on begrudgingly. Lose the battle, win the war (on germs, anyway).

So when I get vaccinated, as I do every year, I just turn my head and whimper.

New Responsibilities

We're gearing up for the upcoming shows next weekend--two shows in that many days. We were setting up logistics and I get to be equipment-girl! Hooray! That's something I always wanted to do. Tomorrow I'm going to set up an excel document with a complete inventory of our equipment and checklists to use for each show. If you know me, then you know I can be kind of anal, and being equipment-girl appeals to me in a way that warrants my overly prolific use of exclamation points and italicized words. I can't WAIT!!

Oh, and I also get a speaking role in the demo/audience participation part. I'm not as excited about that, but I know it's a good thing for me to do. Heck, I teach my own class, so this should be a piece of cake, relatively speaking. I have to lead a crowd of middle schoolers in a kiai demo. Kiai's are verbal expressions of energy--if you've ever seen taiko before, then a kiai is when you hear the players shout to one another. Kind of like in martial arts--hiya! We'll get those kids yelling--I know they like doing that. This is actually a nice step for me, seeing how I've been a recluse for most of my life, trying to be as quiet and small as I could be. But now look, I'm going to try to lead a whole crowd of people yelling back and forth to one another! Ha!

Headlining, yo! Part II

So I opened up the second page of our local paper, and, LOOK! Maze Daiko! Right there at the top of the bill! Headlining! Yeah--you read it right! Right there next to children's fashion and wrapping paper designing--Maze Daiko, yo! Overuse of exclamation points??! YES! Way too much caps lock and italicism?! YES!!

well I'm smitten.

Conflagaration

SoCal is on fire. Kind of hard to believe. Actually, everything that hasn't been paved over by strip malls, skyscrapers or concrete is on fire, which kind of rules out LA proper and, luckily, the lovely suburban town I grew up in. Every year the Santa Ana winds (or Santana winds, as my grandmother used to say) blow in from the deserts to east, out to the Pacific Ocean to the west, super-heating the air and drying out everything in its path. I'm actually fond of the Santa Ana winds (except when they cause mass destruction, of course). They're kind of like the last gasp of summer before the long dreary days of winter set in. Up here in the Bay Area we've been having our own weaker form of the Santa Ana's and I've been trying to soak them up. I feel bad for all those people who lost their homes though. It's just such a surreal thing that's happening down there.

All I Wanna Do . . .

. . . is practice. I just want to sit there with my metronome and practice pad (a real shime would be nicer) and practice all day. It doesn't even have to be a song. It would be nice to play hooky for a day or two and do that. Why oh why did I spend all those years thinking I could be a better player just by practicing the songs we were working on? There is so much more out there to practice! There's diddles and dokos and do-dons--oh my!

I know, I know--I'm a geek. But who cares!

HEADLINING, yo!!

Headlining! Yee-ha! Yeah, you heard me right! Headlining!

Ok, it's not as exciting as it sounds. But it does sound great, doesn't it? I don't think anyone has actually called us headliners before. We volunteered to play at a friend's daughter's school's annual benefit/festival/something or other. Plus I discovered one of my boss' kids goes there too. We play for about an hour, with tons of audience participation, so it's probably going to be something like school-show format. Better get off my paradiddling butt and brush up on our repertoire.

Tai Chi for Taiko

I've been taking tai chi for the past 5 weeks and am loving it. Tonight we finally got through the whole form, and now we can work on kata stuff. I wanted to take tai chi to help me with balance and centering myself for taiko. The other day in taiko we were doing a movement within a song and all of a sudden I realized, hey this feels a lot like one of the tai chi moves, and I started working that into my kata and I think I looked (and felt) a lot better. Plus I think going into tai chi from my taiko background really helps, though I think it would have been easier the other way around. I want to get to the point where I have memorized all the moves and I feel pretty and grounded doing them. That takes practice I guess. There are millions of old people in parks who look way better than I do. I always thought it looked cool, and I think that's one of the reasons why I'm taking it. Plus the teacher is great. He's mellow and unintimidating and patient. He also knows kung fu and once in a while he'll demonstrate how our seemingly innocent tai chi moves can break a wrist or or knock a person down. Sometimes when he does that I get the urge to take his kung fu class, but I'm worried that I may get injured taking a martial art and not be able to play taiko, which would just be really sad. But wouldn't it be cool if I could flip a 200 pound man to the ground? Little ol me?

On the flip side (flip, get it?), my students seem to be enjoying their taiko class. I worked some paradiddles into a fun movement drill and I think they liked that. Last night a few of us were talking about the class and they seemed to be interested in learning more basics. I remember when I first started taking taiko I really wanted to just stand there and work on drills for long periods of time, although the emphasis was on learning songs. Maybe I should be less worried about them being bored and go ahead and work on drills. We'll see. I think I need to have a heart-to-heart with myself and try to plot the future of what taiko might look like at RCW. It'll involve more commitment and writing a song for them, no doubt. We'll see, we'll see.

But life is good. I'm doing what I love. I'm challenging myself. I'm trying to share what I love and challenging others to do it too. That's the whole point of it all, isn't it?

How to Make a Beat

Wow! See how easy it is to throw together a song?

Rain, Rain . . .

I've never liked the rain much, but since it hardly rained at all last winter, I've actually been craving it a little. I mean, I really enjoyed those long weeks of crystal-clear, blue, blue skies even though it was freezing, but give me a good storm with rain falling on the roof in buckets so heavy you wonder how the roof stays up. I always hate coming in from the rain chilled by wet socks and heavied pantlegs and soggy shoulders, but there is something nice about changing out of those clothes into something soft and warm and fuzzy.

There's a storm out there, and I just came in from being outside, and you can smell its heavy, earthy fragrance. Tonight as I was closing class with a soft oroshi, I said, come on, let's try to call that rain out from the sky. Do you know what smell I'm talking about? As a kid I remember saying once: it smells like rain! But my Mom was quick to say, no, that's the smell of the pavement. I guess as someone who grew up in Hawaii, she knew what real rain smelled like. But as a child of the city, with its miles and miles of cement and asphalt and roofs painted with hardened black tar, the rain smells like that to me. Stony, and porous, and filled with the latent heat of hot days and dry winds and the sounds of lazy cars passing by and the shouts of children and of August lawnmowers and the scrape of a rake on the sidewalk, papyrus shards of newspaper caught in chainlink fences, of small, forgotten, flattened shoes, all saved up, all ready to be released again by the rain. I know all too soon I'll tire of the leaden grey skies, its depressing horizons, of winter's brief, monotonous days of softened shadows and numbed toes. But give me a nice, big storm. Give me rain measured by the inch and of sudden 3 pm blackouts. I'll take it--for now anyway.

Counting to 12--The Funky Way

I've had days where this song would pop into my head and just not get out. Like today. There must be generations of us kids who learned our counting from this song. And the video is a trip in itself. Were they intentionally trying to make us feel like we were on drugs? I'm surprised watching this doesn't give children seizures.

Anyhow. Enjoy. Rock on.

I need my fix

If I don't get me some tempura udon SOON I will surely perish. Yes. I will. Really.

SOME Kind of Wonderful

"All I care about in this freakin' world are my drums . . .and . . . YOU!"

Oh boy, they don't make movies like they used to in the 80's! And where the heck are Lick the Tins? I so want that song from the soundtrack but I guess itunes has turned its back on really great 80's soundtracks. Mary Stuart Masterson is my hero!

Gadgetry

Janet and I have been emailing back and forth about ipods recently. Actually she's been asking me about ipods for the past year. I keep telling her to get one already, and about how before I got one, I swore I didn't need or want one, but now that I have one, I don't go anywhere without it. Me and my ipod--we're attached by the hip. She's been hesitant, so finally this weekend I loaded up my ipod and brought it in for her to borrow. She's let me borrow so much of her stuff, I figured it was the very, very least I could do. I brought in the charger and a connecting-cord and it's full of great and wonderful music. If someone forced me to borrow an ipod, I would choose my ipod. Yes, I really do believe I have great taste in music, but that's another blog entry all together.

Anyhow, driving back home after rehearsal tonight I felt lost. Where was the music? Where was my constant companion? It felt like one of my best friends went off on vacation. No, I don't regret letting her borrow it at all, but there is an empty place in my life now. Isnt' it strange how the little devices and gadgets we acquire can inhabit such large places in our lives? I'm a product of the 80's. The greatest innovation back then were walkmen with cassettes. CASSETTES! The songs were always in the same order and you had to rewind or fastforward if you wanted to find a particular song. You could actually develop a special form of ESP to know how long to press the RW or FF button before you knew your song you were looking for was going to come up. You had to take the cassette out and flip it over before you could finish listening to an album. Heck, cassettes are more than twice the size of the new ipod nanos, which hold 200x the amount of data on a cassette. If you were lucky your walkman had a radio with a teeny tiny dial that you needed the delicate hands of a brain surgeon to manipulate. The headphones were the first things to go, and you wound up using tape and wiggling the wire back and forth to get sound in both ears. Remember they said we were all in danger of going completely deaf listening to our music so loud? Whatever happened to that? Everyone I know who is my age has regular hearing. And then they invented cd walkmen which were a modest upgrade from cassettes, seeing how you didn't have to flip them over, but you had to carry around those cd wallets, which were really bulky and didn't hold that many cds anyway.

But you know something? We were happy with our handful of cassettes and cd cases full of music. Maybe someday they'll have something more fantastic than the ipod, and I'll wonder how I lived without it. And just for the record--cell phones--those I can live without. There is the safety factor--as a woman I don't go anywhere without my cell phone. As someone who drives a car, I don't drive anywhere without my cell phone. But since the phone is my least favorite form of communication, and seeing how I don't call anyone, and hardly anyone calls me, I think I could live without one. Live without blahblahblah? Yes. Music? No, how is that possible?

I've STILL Got it

Woke up today to the sound of rain. Haven't heard that since last winter, and boy do we need us some rain--too bad it had to be on the day of my big cross country race (5k, actually. We didn't cross any state lines or anything) at Mills College. Oh well, I've run in rain before. When I got to Mills, there were running-people everywhere. They were running in little packs in their spiffy matching outfits, exuding good health and youthful energy. All the memories of my running days in high school came back. The race we were running was an invitational, which is when a bunch of schools come together to run against each other, and in this case, the school invited individual runners without a college affiliation to run too. They called us "unattached" and there were about five or six of us, staffers and students.

We all lined up, and when they gave us the go, off we went. I had no intention of starting off particularly strong, and settled into what was a slightly fast, but normal pace for me. I was toward the back of the pack, but I knew there were people behind me--mostly 20 year olds, mind you! I tried to keep up with people, but sometimes I passed them (hooray!) and sometimes they passed me (hooray for them!). That competitive spirit and drive still lives in me, and when I was able to zoom by someone, I did it strong. There was one big hill and though it didn't kill me, it tried. It was a nice course, but I must have been running hard, because I was really feeling it during the last half mile. That's when you have to dig and find the strength inside you to go on. One of the runners ahead of me started walking, and I thought, that looks like a nice idea, but of course I didn't, and tried to cheer her on a little as I passed by.

In the last 200 meter stretch someone was trying to pass me, and I sped up to keep up with her, and it was a footrace, and I yelled Come on! Come on!, and I let her beat me into the gate even though we were side by side. I mean, there's a part of me that's a competitor, but there is the part of me also that is learning how to motivate and inspire. I'm not saying that oh, I could have kicked her butt, but I LET her win. No. Because that's not the point for me anymore. It's not about winning. At that point I was thinking we're going to get better times if we push each other. I think what I'm coming to realize--not just in running, but life in general--is that for me it's not about competing against others anymore, but more about seeking out or just facing the challenges that are ahead of you. You actually get a lot further when you work with the people around you, and when they're inspired, you get inspired too. It's not about beating them, it's about finding ways to work together. Today, for me, signing up for the race and running it and finishing it was a great accomplishment. I'm happy and proud that I finished*. I'd do it again.

*And just between you and me, I'm secretly happy that there were still a bunch of runners behind me, and that I even beat a couple people on the Mills team. Come on, I'm old. Or rather, I'm not 20 anymore.

In My Magic Mirror...

Remember that show Romper Room where at the end of the show the lady would look in her magic mirror (which actually didn't even have any glass in it) and say, "I see Billy and Samantha and Stacy..." Me and my brother would always shut up and stop fighting and sit there, holding our breaths waiting for her to say our names, but I don't think she ever did.

Anyhow, that's how I feel right now. Or rather, I get visitors to my blog who leave me nice little comments, but the comment gizmo doesn't really have a way for me to say hi back to all you nice people.

So in my magic mirror I just want to say hi to Dad, and big brother the firefighter, and little brother (the Boy), and my dear running buddy from high school days Yuriko, and long lost MFA alum Erendira (what are you up to these days?), and Pocky Man Marcin. I'm sorry if I left anybody out. I get so few comments.

Thank you for reading. And thank you too to the anonymous people who read but don't leave comments. I like you too.

Cross Country Invitational!

I decided on a whim to enter a cross country race here at Mills. It's open to everyone. So on Monday I did a training run around the campus and over parts of the course. There's one hill with switchbacks, and some trail running, and some running up and down the street and here and there. I've been running at Mills for a couple of years now and I don't think there's anywhere on campus I haven't been, which is why I thought it would be fun to run the race. I did some mental calculating and figured that it's been about 15 years since I ran my last cross country race as a high-schooler. I was actually a decent runner back then. I expect to be at the back of the pack in this race. I don't care. At least it's good to know that 15 years later I'm still doing it. Plus, it's only 3 miles.

Paradiddly, yo

Week before last Janet introduced some paradiddle drills she had learned. The week before that, she had hinted that she was going to bring that drill in for us to work on. But first some history: the first time I ever interacted with Janet--the first time I met her, the first time she was teaching me somthing--she brought in some paradiddles, and I was like, huh? Para-what-whats? I thought she was making the whole concept up. What a ridiculous name! Paradiddles! But they're real, people. A paradiddle is basically a pattern that goes rlrr, lrll. So anyway. I practiced the whole week doing my rlrr's, lrll's, but when she brought her excercise in I was completely lost. Yeah, I knew what a paradiddle was, but a paradiddle with accents? And was rrlrlrlrrlrlrlr really a paradiddle?

Yes, yes it is.

There's double paradiddles, and triple paradiddles, and endless variations if you begin the paradiddle at some random point within the pattern and cycle it through to where you started, and even more variation if you decide which side (right or left) to place the accent on. So I practiced the paradiddles she brought in all week. I was playing those paradiddles at 176 and higher on my metronome. So last Sunday she asked if we wanted to work on drills, and I was like, oh heck yeah!, I want to work on paradiddles! It was a good drill. I think I did exceptionally well. Afterward, I asked her, Do you have any more paradiddle drills? Because I had worked so hard on these paradiddles, I was ready for more. Then she opened up her notebook, and it was a chasm of paradiddle drills. I'm telling you--pages and pages of them, written out teenie tiny on pages that were soft with wear. She said she had chosen a few of her favorites and made the drill out of them. Then she said, since you like paradiddles so much, why don't you come in next week with more drills?

At first, I studied her paradiddles and figured that they were part paradiddle, part interesting patterns. So with that freedom I composed some drills, and was stuck because I needed to finish composing some of them. And then I studied her drills and realized that they were all paradiddle and nothing more. I had already come up with three drills, and realized that some of my patterns weren't paradiddles, but strange creatures of my own imagination. Eh, I thought to myself. They're still great patterns. So this Sunday I get to present these drills to my peers. I wonder if Janet or Bean will catch on to the fact that they're not all authentic paradiddles? I came up with three patterns that are composed of two parts each. That makes six patterns. One and a half of them aren't true paradiddle. The half paradiddle is technically paradiddle, but at a stretch. I'm proud of them, though. Heck, the name of our group is Maze, which means to mix, so if I come up with part-paradiddle, part-Kathryn's-imaginary-paradiddle-drill, I'm happy.

We'll see though. That Bean is pretty sharp.

Close

I ran into an old friend from my writing program today. We hadn't seen each other in ages. She asked how I was, and what I was doing with myself and how my writing was going. I told her I was really involved with taiko, but that I hadn't given up on the idea of writing. And then she said something that really made me feel better about my state of not-writing. Something that made me feel that I didn't have to be so hard on myself for not writing. She said that I was really young when I started the writing program, and that it's really important to live. And that really hit home for me. I've been telling myself this for a long time. I need to do more living in order to return to writing. It was with such understanding and empathy that she told me this. I always looked up to her. She is actually a successful writer, published a couple books already, one of which she started in our writing program, and now she teaches here at the same school we both attended.

But it also made me think about writing. I really feel like I'm able to go back to it. We made some calculations and realized, with shock really, that it's been 10 years since we both started the writing program. I've done some living since then. Big things have happened. Life has delivered some promises, and broke some, and suprised me in many ways. It's broken my heart and filled it up again. There have been many adventures. She said your 30s are good years. She's lived through them, and is about to turn 40. When I first met her, she was about to turn 30. She says she's looking forward to her 40s. And these days, a lot of the people I do creative things with are in their 50s, and they seem happy and satisfied. I'm glad and grateful I am surrounded by wonderful people. I'm glad for all my teachers and all those who have inspired me. I feel like I'm on the verge of something here.

Today as I was driving to work I watched the thin clouds arrange themselves in the parched atmosphere, assembling for thunder, and though nothing materialized, I longed to be out in the dryness of a desert, drinking it in. I wanted nothing more than to stand in front of a drum, sweating away at drills. I wanted to pull the tacks out of Janet's old drum and rehead it. I wanted to be sitting somewhere sipping at coffee and working something into language in a notebook. I'm so close. I just need to sit down and organize my thoughts and bring something together. Yeah, I'm looking forward to the rest of my 30s. To the rest of my life.

I Have Great Students

They're wonderful. They like to play taiko, and they play it well. It helps me as a teacher to work with people who are so nice and enthusiastic. They give me great confidence. Before I started teaching I had a whole year to think and worry about being a teacher, and I hope I'm the teacher I want to be. I hope I can become something remotely like the teachers who have inspired and encouraged me. Having great students helps immensely.

Rudimentary

For the past few weeks we've been working on basic drills. We've got some time to breathe and focus on stuff like kata and sticking, and it's been really good. I love drills. I love it when they make you all tired and sweaty. Tonight I pulled out my drum practice book and worked on some rudiment stuff. Worked on left-handed doko dons, my favorite counting drill, paradiddles, pataflaflas and getting my left hand to play an egg-shaker. I've been concentrating on my left so much, when I played with my right it sounded wimpy. It was daylight when I first crawled into the chasm to practice, and when I looked up later, it was completely dark.

I feel like I'm entering a new phase in my taiko education. Up to this point it's been all about learn-learn-learn. I sucked up everything anyone could teach me, always wanting more. But now I think it's more about learning how to learn. How can I explain that? I think it's one thing to seek out others to teach you, but at some point you have to take what you already know and expand on it yourself. You have to seek out new things and teach yourself what they are and how to play it and how to interpret it to suit you and to use it as a way to express your own artistic goals. I don't know if I'm at that lofty place yet, but I'm learning it. Breaking away from Emeryville, while liberating and a little scary, has sent me down a new and exciting path. Playing with Maze is a challenge. There's the material, which is different and hard, and I don't get the sort of learning curve I would have gotten at E-ville. Over there, you would go over the same piece of material week after week, learning what the sticking is, and where your arm should be and where you should be looking and how to stand--you did that until it hurt. But with Maze, those things are more given, and we plow through things. They don't leave me behind when I don't get it, which is wonderful and comforting, but I guess the level and expectation is different. Learning how to learn.

I think my new challenge is to figure out how to contribute more. It's less, do it this way, and more, how do you think we should do this? I need to have answers. Need to figure out what I think is interesting. I'm trying though. I think that Janet gives me nudges in the right direction. She doesn't tell me outright, but I think she opens up opportunities for me to come into my own. Maybe she's not even doing it intentionally. But she gave me my own taiko class and the opportunity to be a leader and to develop my own sense of direction. She has never told me how I ought to run the class or what material I should cover or anything. I have to figure that out on my own. And she so generously gave me that drum to finish and put a head on. That was a saga in itself, but now she's given me the opportunity to put heads on her other drums. It's not exploitation or anything--it's something I want to do--first because I need to start to repay the kindness of her giving me my own drum (which is my own concept, not hers--the only string she attached was that "Maze could maybe play the drum"), but also because I'm finding that I love working with my hands and figuring out how to make equipment and stuff. I made my own down stand a month ago. I remember when she was teaching at E-ville, she'd play her own drums and didn't want the beginners to play on them (because they tend to pound the hell out of them). But now, I get to put new heads on her drums. That's kind of an honor, I think.

This is something new for me to think about and work on. How do I move from being a student to being my own person? It's a new chapter-- a good one too.

Pushing

Today before rehearsal I got a call from Janet saying that she'd be late and that she wanted me to lead the others in drill. Cell phone coverage sucks, so just to know that I heard her right, I was like, drill? You said drill? And she said yeah, drill. I drove straight-away to RCW, less because I thought I'd be late, and more as a chance to think about what drill I ought to be doing. We had a nice discussion last weekend, and I figured that oroshi (drumrolls) would be a good drill for us. It's my most unfavorite drill, but really good for you if you're a taiko player. Oroshi is good opportunity to work on kata and strength and (my least favorite part) kiai and energy. I was also thinking, so why'd she call me? Was it because I'm always early? Was it because I teach a taiko class? Was it because she thinks I can actually lead the rehearsal? Such responsibility! Such pressure! Good pressure, mind you. I felt very responsible and humbled. I felt so kohai.

Anyhow. The others were a little late, and Janet was not as late as she thought she'd be, and we wound up doing oroshi. I don't know if I was the best leader, but I pushed them. I think my problem is that I push myself really, really hard, and I think that I can push others as almost as hard as I push myself. But is that right? Is that ok? I don't want to go into my own life experiences, but you can't always expect others to push themselves as far as you would push yourself. You can't think that just because you can go so far that others can too. Sometimes as far as you can go isn't as far as someone else can go. Sometimes you can do more harm than good. I've done this. I've gone that far before. And while at rehearsal tonight I pushed really hard, I felt a great responsibility, thinking, oh, maybe we should stop because so-and-so is not playing and instead stretching her arm out. But then I was like, oh we can so do this. Just a little more--let's just finish the drill--I know we can. But are you gaining anything when people start to drop out? Is it ok to do that kind of pushing? I mean, I've been pushed that hard and when I came out on the other side I felt stronger and I felt like I was a better player. Is it ok to expect the same from other people?

Inward...and Beyond!

Spent this last week doing nothing related to taiko except thinking about it. It was good. Sometimes you need to back off the constant physical part of things and think about the mental and theoretical of it. It was also good that I was concentrating on work stuff, since we need to bring in this new class and a part of that is making about a billion photocopies in the xerox room, which provides plenty of time for inward thinking. Today it was just me and Janet and we talked some, and she gave me lots to think about. Also we worked some on chekere, which was my request, so there's more to work on. Also working on becoming a better taiko player. She always tells me nice things about me, but really, I want to become even better. There are always those things that are not always explicit in playing, or performance or solos. The little tweaks we all make in ourselves that make us better players, or better teachers, or better PR people, or just better people. I need to work on those things. All of them.

I've also been taking on some equipment-maintenance projects for Maze. I like it. I made my own down stand the other week, which sounds complicated, but wasn't. I think that in a lot of taiko groups the equipment-person just rises to the sruface like grease in soup, even if they didn't actually set out to be the equipment-person. Did you know that during college I was a "maintenance technician," which is just a fancy word for handy(wo)man? My dad, through example, as well as teaching us, showed us kids how to interact with and tinker with the physical world. We've joked about the merits of duct tape and wire, and how you can fix anything with those things, but really, the mystery of how things work, or don't work, and how to fix them is not as shrouded as you'd think. The world is a logical place, and having someone to show you that logic is, well--magical. Anyhow, I took on some more down stand-making projects as well as taiko reheading, which, after my own taiko making experience, sounds like fun to me. I might actually get to use Janet's space at RCW when it become available, which I'm sure my downstairs neighbor is totally thrilled about, even if she doesn't know it yet.

Nocturna

Nocturna, a radio show on the LA public radio station KCRW, is currently the soundtrack of my nights. The listening experience is completely different at night than it is in the day. It's even better at night listening to it in your car while driving the streets and freeways of LA, the orange streetlamps casting their light and shadow, light and shadow, in your car. I don't know why I get so nostalgic for my hometown sometimes. The music on Nocturna isn't even the type of music I usually seek out, but for some reason, it really affects me. I love the deep base that KCRW broadcasts their DJ's voices at. I love the way you can play the music quietly in the background and hold a conversation and then somehow the conversation is that much more deep or meaningful. Do you ever have those moments where the pauses in conversation are just as precise as speech?

Thanks to the wonders of the internet, you can listen to it anytime, but may I suggest, you listen to it at night?: Nocturna on KCRW.com

A Night on Mount Diablo

Went camping with friend Mary this weekend atop Mt. Diablo, right below the summit. It's the highest mountain in the area and really beautiful. Mary and I used to like to go camping all the time when we were in college, but we haven't been in over 10 years. I've really missed not being able to go camping with her, or even seeing her on a regular basis, so it was really wonderful when she seized a rare scheduling opportunity and we managed to find one of the only open camping reservations in the area--for one night only.

Mount Diablo has that rugged California landscape about it: live oaks clinging to the rolling hills browned by the late July heat, outcroppings of dry, hard stone, and tons of poison oak. One of the great things about getting out into California open space is smelling that wonderful earthy, tangy smell. It is so lovely. We had a full moon to our very selves, and it was the first time since I can remember where we weren't shivering our butts off in the rolling fog of night. We were actually above the fog line, and we watched as it rolled in, covering San Francisco so that the only visible landmark was Sutro tower, and filling up the lowlands and spilling up over the foothills and filling in the valleys, slowly creeping toward us but never quite reaching our vantage point high above the world. We watched the stars roam across the night sky overhead, we saw the darkness of the cities and suburbs come alive with the constellations of orange streetlights, saw the streaming tail of the highway that brought us here. The land is so dry and parched in July that they prohibited campfires, but it was ok. We sat in the circle of light cast by our lantern, and we talked, and we not-talked deep into the night. We listened to the sound of the breeze fill the pines so that they created rumor and spoke their secret languages, heard the rustle of the dry, jagged leaves in the oaks, felt the presense and immensity of the wind like some giant, unknowable sea-creature come close, as if out of curiosity, and felt its wake as it moved like current through the last of the dry grass and then disappeared into the inky blackness of the atmosphere above us, leaving only stillness and inpenetrable silence. In the night, animals walked by our tent like menehune, unaware or unconcerned that someone woke in the night and heard it pass, and then closed her eyes to it, wishing that schedules were easier to schedule, and that opportunities like this would come by more often, and, most of all, that nights in summer were a little longer.

Shows!

I don't have any pics yet of our BIG SHOW, but I know they'll probably come dribbling in here and there. I'll post them as/if I get them. We SOLD OUT, people! Isn't that amazing? SOLD OUT! There was a wait list and they were adding chairs at the last minute and I know we started really late, but the audience was really great. We had support from all our dear Drum Camp folks, as well as some of my wonderful and fabulous taiko class students, as well as family (my Dad and his sisters!) and friends, and tons of people who are just really great supporters of the arts. Thank you to all who attended. You have no idea how wonderful it is to perform to such an appreciative audience. It just means the whole world. It really does.

We worked really hard on this show. Lots of rehearsals. A new song. Refining what we already had. It was good. It was really great to work with such great people. Meri and Crissy, our newest members, just blew me away. Meri plays the fue so beautifully, and Crissy is an amazing taiko player--she was a Kodo apprentice, yo! And our core members--Janet and Bean and Carolyn--they're my rock.

I played with all my heart. Projected best I could. Put my all into my solos and into bringing everything in me to the performance. And I sweated like crazy. My forearms sweated. I didn't know they could do that. My hachimaki was heavy with sweat when I took it off and my tank and pants were all wet. That's a good sign. I was completely wiped out on Sunday and took a nap I had a hard time waking up from. One of those really hard naps where your eyes are so heavy they won't open. Woke up like that this morning. Heavy.

And today we had a nice-paying gig at Yeeha again. This time at corporate headquarters. They've got nice digs there. They make it so you don't have to leave to go get your hair cut or go to the gym or get an iced mocha--it's all there. It was a completely different audience than the Big Show. But eh, it was a slick gig. Here are people being goofy:
I love being a taiko player. In the year since I joined this Maze Daiko group I've had so many adventures! It's fun. It's such an interesting journey. I look forward to more adventures.

Wet T-Shirt Contest

Ack. Tonight was the sweatiest rehearsal ever. I got to RCW early in order to tighten a shime for the big show before the rehearsal started. That got me really sweaty. It was just dripping off me as I was standing on top of that drum, pulling my heart out. I was a little embarrased because when I brought the shime over to Janet to ask her something about it I was making a puddle and trying not to get it on her. Then when we were rehearsing, I got even more sweaty. My shirt was soaked and my hair was all wet and it was as if there were a raincloud hovering over just me. Janet too. After a run-through she said, There's water all over the stage and I know it's not all from me! It was like a scene from Flash Dance! Not that I'm complaining. Sweat is good. Crissy said that she tries not to drink too much water in order to not get sweaty. I guess that's a good theory, especially when you have such impressive performing experience like her, but you need water to keep you going, and sweat is not such a bad thing. Kinda gross, but not so bad. The only time I don't like it is when I'm performing and it runs into my eyes and blinds me, but, eh. When I got home and out of my shirt, I noticed I'm losing a lot of minerals--salt maybe? I've been drinking gatorade lately--more for the sugar than anything else--but I guess I need that little kick of sodium to keep the blood levels in balance.

Oh this is going to be a great show. I am working with really amazing people, and I know they are nothing but good influence. I have so much to learn. And I am so inspired to work harder on solos and stage presense and all that. I feel like this is just the beginning. Time for bed now. I have tomorrow to prepare and most of Saturday day. Are you coming to the show? Oh, please oh please say yes!?

Maze Daiko in Concert!

I've been so busy lately I haven't had much time to do promo for our upcoming show featuring Maze Daiko and Ojala. Here is our blurb:

Saturday July 21, 8pm

$18 in advance $20 at the door

Buy tickets for Ojala and Maze Daiko - an Evening of Women Drummers
Ojala is a group of 6 talented women who combine traditional Afro-Cuban folkloric music, infectious funky contemporary rhythms, beautiful vocals and imaginative and original songs. Carolyn Brandy, a groundbreaking Bay Area female percussionist, is the musical director of the band, and the inspiring vocals are led by Regina Wells and Elouise Burrell. Joining them are Annette Acosta and Sue Matthews, and dancer Ava Miller.

Mazeru is the Japanese word for "mix" and taiko (daiko) is the Japanese word for "drum". Maze Daiko creates an exciting mix of instrumentation and rhythms with the physical elegance and powerful sounds of taiko. Ensemble members Janet Koike, Kathryn Cabunoc, Carolyn West, Crissy Sato and Tina Blaine (also featured on djembe and dumbek), plus guest artist, Meri Mitsuyoshi playing fue (Japanese flute), create intricate rhythms and melodies to fill the stage with vibrant music and sound. Two amazing groups in one evening!

Rhythmix Cultural Works
2513 Blanding Ave
Alameda, Ca 94501
(510) 845-5060
mailto:info@rhythmix.org

O Mio Yemaya

Just got back from drum camp. It was a wonderful experience. I got to help teach taiko as well as take other kinds of drumming classes. It's really nice to see the things other types of percussionists are doing, and to hear their stories and to be able to play with them. We had to take two trips to get all the drums there (in 2 cars), and two trips to get them all back. Exhausting, but so worth it.

Knotted Up

Oy. If I could reach down inside my stomach I'd probably pull out something like this. I'm stressing, though I know I shouldn't. I'm learning a new song that we're going to perform and it just makes me nervous. I'm almost at the point where I can play it smoothly, but it hasn't sunk in yet. It's not at the point where I can play it without thinking, where it gets nice and deep into the muscles and tucked away in the chasms of the brain. The song has really pretty movement and it's in six time and thank goodness I don't have to solo. To complicate things, I'm busy. It's a good busy--teaching my taiko class, and then assisting at Drum Camp again this year, and lots of rehearsal and family coming up for the show. It's all good though. I'll get through this!

Aloha

Just got back from my first vacation in over 3 years. Boy did I need this vacation. I went to the Big Island of Hawaii and stayed for 10 days. We went to the beach almost every day and I was in heaven. Did and saw so much that I'll let the pictures do most of the talking. I had a good time.

Here goes.

This is actually Maui seen from the airplane. Pretty.The Big Island is the youngest of the Hawaiian islands. As you may know, the islands sit atop a volcanic vent that spews forth lava that accumulated and eventually formed each of the islands. The tectonic plate that the islands sit on keeps moving westward, hence, the dozens and dozens of bits of land in the island chain. The Big Island is, well, the biggest, and evidence of all that (relatively) recent volcanic activity is everywhere. Here is Laupahoehoe Point, site of a major tsunami in the 1940's (I think). Rugged and beautiful and dangerous: And here is the highway outside of Kona. Pure volcanic landscape at sunset (with rainbow, if you look close enough):One of the things I love most about Hawaii are the houses. Most of them have these galvanized roofs and sit on raised foundations, I think because it rains a lot here. I took tons of pictures of houses and this was one of my favorites, maybe because it's green:Oh, and they don't have trash in Hawaii--they have rubbish. This is a rubbish bin, as my Mom used to call them:

Before major tourism took hold, two of the major industries on the Big Island were ranching and sugar cane. My great grandparents came here in 1899 to work the sugar cane in Puna. Evidence of the sugar cane industry, although now defunct, still sprouts up here and there:Ranching is still intact. My grandfather actually worked on Parker Ranch, one of the oldest ranches in the U.S. He was a carpenter. Parker Ranch has been around since 1847, and they were celebrating their 160th anniversary. Every year they hold a rodeo and we got to attend it on the 4th of July. They had horse races (the guy on the loudspeaker kept saying, "no wagering, please." Yeah right), Poo Wai U (which is a kind of calf roping), Branding (with paint, thank goodness), calf-dressing (you heard me right--the team that could put a T-shirt on a calf the fastest won), Ranch Mugging (more calf-roping) and Team Roping, which I didn't see because we were in line to get us some chili. Here is a pic of the dreamy paniolos, or cowboys:And here is a shot of my first Hawaiian obon. They had taiko drummers playing in between old-time music blaring from the loudspeakers. I don't know how to dance, but my friend wanted me to dance the Electric Slide when it came on. I politely declined. Who knew it was an obon dance??:Another thing I love about Hawaii is how quaint things can be. Here is a picture of a small-town grocery store. Reminds me of the store they had on the island of Lanai we used to go to when I vistited as a kid:And of course I went to the beach--almost every day. I was being a tourist after all, and I love the ocean, especially when the water is calm and warm and practically crystal clear. We saw fish and honu, or sea turtles. Here's a shot of one of the lovely beaches we went to and one of me in my Japanese tourist disguise (and I'm actually a couple of shades darker now):They also had a grass shack set up at the beach. I wanted to move in and stay forever, but I couldn't find the front door:Oh, and on the 4th of July we also got to set off fireworks. In LA where I'm from, they banned fireworks when I was just about old enough to remember anything. All I remember is setting off sparklers, which kind of suck. But here fireworks are still legal. We bought a box of fireworks and friend Kris said we also needed to get "punk." I was like, huh? What's punk? Apparently, punk is a slow-burning substance often used to create a kind of smoke that repels mosquitos. They used to give it out when you bought fireworks, but not anymore. One of the highlights of this trip was when we went to the store and Kris asked someone, "You guys got punk?" And the lady replied "Aisle five." You have to understand that in Hawaii everyone speaks a wonderfully lovely and fluid pidgin. It's like everyone is singing to each other. When my mom (who was born and raised in Hawaii) got together with her sisters, they would sometimes speak pidgin. You have to go there to appreciate it. Anyhow. Here is me with punk and my first fireworks:
And in parting, here is another one of my favorite things. On the highway between the house and the beach was a sign saying that the Minimum speed limit was 40 mph. Wouldn't want anyone getting too comfortable with the relaxed and slow-paced island life. Ahh. It was good. It really was. Can't wait to go back. But now it's time to get back to life. I had a 5-hour taiko rehearsal today. Another tomorrow. Class on Tuesday. Drum camp all next weekend and a ton more rehearsals. July 21st people. Big concert. Try to go if you can!