Updates

Life is good. I have to remember that every day. And because I had my digi-cam out, and because I thought this blog was seriously lacking in images, here are a couple updates from my mundane, but good, life.

I got new shoes! Maze Daiko needed new shoes to help complete the outfit (more later, promise!!), and after listening to a co-worker rave about an online shoe-site, I went a-browsing, and came upon these accidentally. They had other styles, and we ended up buying them from a more local brick and mortar store--you know with real people who really care and have a stake in the shoe-selling industry. There were different styles, but I went with these because they 1) had them in my size, and 2) were big enough for my wide feet. I think they're called "jazz shoes." Jazzy, eh? I finally got around to finishing my shime stand. Built it myself a year and a half ago, and now I finally got around to painting it. I was considering staining and varnishing it, but that would have called attention to the stand, which, quite frankly, is not anything in comparison to the work of art my Asano shime is. So subdued semi-gloss black it is.
We've got our show on March 7th that we've been working real hard toward. Not a big deal in the taiko-world, but a great goal to set in order to work on repertoire and solos and all those good things. I busted my gut today on my Matsuri solo, and the only thing I really want to focus on is my Mokuyobi solo. You've heard it all before about that solo. Energy. Projection. Yeah.

Letting Go, Or, Letting It All Out

I was angry all week. Being angry sucks. It saps the energy out of you. It makes you spacy. Yes, there were things I could have done. But on the other hand, I think I did the right thing. On the one hand there is logic and clear thinking and reason. On the other, there is pure, unbridled, furious anger. Often times, the anger wins out, but then you regret it later. In listening to my anger, and in listening to my logic and reason, the only thing that I would have changed about last Sunday is in my ability to scream. Have you ever heard a woman on the street screaming? Did you turn around? Did it get your attention? Did you ever pop your head out the window when you heard a woman scream? I think the sound of a woman screaming is way more effective than the sound of your typical car alarm. I should have screamed my angry heart out. That's all. I kept us safe, but it would have been better if I kept us even safer if I let the whole neighborhood hear about it.

If the whole incident of the street urchins trying to steal the drums didn't happen, last Sunday's post would have been about what happened in class. We were working on solos, and Janet said, I can't hear you solo at all. Why don't you hit the drums harder? And then we tried it again, and I hit those drums harder and with more energy, and then the Carolyn was like, hey, that sounded good--you've been holding out on us! And that's what I think my whole life has been about. Maybe not holding out, but holding back. I'm so darn restrained. Always so quiet and not trying to make any ripples or fuss, or anything at all. I have been so shy and invisible that I don't even notice it. I just need to belt out and let everyone know that I am here, and I am here loud. Bring those ruffians on, but let them be warned that if they're going to f*&% with me, then everyone within earshot is going to hear about it.

And the anger. That's the part that sucks the most. I didn't get much practice in. I was working on my counting drill but had to stop because I found I wasn't concentrating on counting, but on how I would pummel little Mofo if I could have my way with him. And then at work, I was completely loopy--not a good thing if your acceptance or denial into college depends on someone who is thinking about last weekend rather than at your life's academic record. My stomach was in knots all week and by the time I got home from work every day, I had a headache. But why let those little sacks of manure have such control over my life? My brother said, They're not worth it, and I really wanted to let it go then, but I just couldn't. But I'm realizing that the anger is so futile, so not what I want to focus the precious little energy I have on. Life is short. You gotta let go of the things that really don't contribute to what your cause is. Listen, people. I love to play taiko. You can throw rocks at us and call us weirdos. You can make us play for a whole year on rubber and carpet-padded drums. You can call the police on us. You can sit there and ignore us as you eat dinner and pretend that there isn't a bunch of overly-genki weirdos 3 feet away from you pounding away for a show that you probably paid for. You can try to steal the drums from right under us, for godsakes. But I'm gonna keep pursuing this. Really. I am.

Bring it on.

Ruffians

Miscreants. Hoodlums. Ne'er-do-wells. I don't like to curse on this blog, but it'll make me feel better--motherfuckers! (or as they say in Alameda--weirdos!) I'm so angry right now. If you could see me, I'd have steam coming out of my ears. No, actually, you'd see me look absolutely calm and quiet, which is a really, really bad sign if you know me and know that I'm angry. We've been having taiko class at a place in West Oakland, which quite frankly, is ghetto. Literally. Not the best neighborhood. Not the kind of neighborhood my Dad would ever let me venture into. Before I could unload my jeep I had to move it away from a pile of vomit. That kind of neighborhood.

Anyhow, we had taiko class as usual, and afterward we were loading up the cars to go home. I was standing outside Janet's car when I see this group of adolescent guys come up on bicycles, and one of them--the MoFo runt--starts huffing like a gorilla and I know he's up to no good, and he swoops by on his bike and he reaches out to grab a shime. But he misses, and I'm in such shock--like what the f*&% do you think you're doing? And I'm also thinking, ok, we're totally outnumbered. There's just me and Janet outside here and a bunch of guys. If you're a woman, then you know that this is not good. Then Mofo comes back and tries it again, but I find a way to keep him away from the drums. And I'm thinking, ok what do I do? I could go after him, but I'm a little scared of him and I'm even more scared of his friends, and if I step away from this pile of shime/okedos we'll lose them. Then he jumps off his bike and jumps into Janet's car (like a gorilla--really, an animal), going after a josuke. I know that no one just rides off with a josuke on a bicycle, so I'm not worried that he'll take that drum, but I'm worried about Janet. I don't think she saw what was going on with me and she turns around when Mofo runt is jumping in the back of her car and she's really annoyed. She was like, Oh go away! Leave us alone! and she finds a way to scare him off. It was kind of funny because I was scared but she was really totally annoyed. Mofo wasn't able to get away with the josuke of course, but he pulled it out of the car and dropped it on the ground. Ouch. At this point he gets back on his bike, and I'm thinking oh damn, I should have taken his bike when he was in the car, but anyway. I chase him a little bit, because you know, I'm so big and scary, and he and his friends go away. Thank god.

And I'm so angry. I don't even want to think of all the things I could have done. All those wonderful brave things you could have done in retrospect. Yes, I could have knocked him off his bike or thrown a shime at him. But I can't think like that. I protected the drums. I didn't pick a fight with a bunch of Mofos in the ghetto. We're all safe. The drums are safe. I'm just one pissed off taiko player.

I kept my composure as we finished loading up the drums, and also when we unloaded drums at Janet's, but as soon as I was back in my car I cried. And I cried all the way home and cried big in my bed. Scared. Angry. Furious. I just wanted to go back there with a baseball bat and my big brother, but of course, no one can fight my battles for me, and it wouldn't solve anything. I just worry that Mofo will come back. And I worry not for myself or the drums or my fellow taiko-players, but for him. I am just so angry. I'm scared that I have this feeling of really wanting to hurt him. If he comes back again, I wouldn't hesitate. He's a kid, a coward. But I'm so angry that I could hurt him and not feel bad about it. That's not good, is it?

Afterwards Janet called me to check in on me, and she told me that she thought it was just really sad that all those boys had to do on a Sunday morning was cause that kind of trouble. That's one of the reasons why I like Janet. She's got perspective and wisdom that makes me want to be a better person. I have to let this go. I did the right thing.

Right? Oh give me the strength not to buy an aluminum baseball bat and keep it in my car.

Bust a Gut

So today we were working on Matsuri solos. I don't know why I stress out so much about this. I think I'm the only one with a solid set solo. I was listening and watching the other solos, and they are wonderful and genki and energetic. Mine is not so much so. Set, yes. But today Janet said that since I'm last solo, that I really need to work on projecting the energy of it. That I need to "bust a gut" and just belt it out. This is something she's been telling me for years. But since I'm last solo, I feel the need to work on this more. The other players have longer solos than me. Listening to people play longer solos than me has always made me feel a little inadequate. Why don't other people struggle as much as I do? How can they just stand up there and solo and solo and solo? I spend so much time composing and setting solos that when it comes time for show and tell, I feel like maybe I should have added more content. But I've been really thinking about solos lately, and while longer solos are impressive and there is nothing bad about them, I think that really projecting the energy of whatever you've got is important too. It's not about length, but quality. Watching Kodo has got my mind thinking. So today when I was listening to the longer solos, I still felt that my solo was too short, and in between takes I asked Janet, woefully, Should my solo be longer? she said that no, it wasn't about length. My solo wasn't too short. Just that I needed to project. Which is what I've been thinking all along! So that is something I continue to work on. Project! Project! Bust a gut!

Greatness Through Osmosis

Tonight I attended a Kodo concert, thanks to the wonderful generosity of Janet who let me tag along, and someone named Yumi, who provided the comps. When I was first starting to get to know this concept of "taiko," there was Kodo. I used to listen to my Best Of CD all the time. Tonight they performed all the classics like Yatai and Miyake, and of course, the always awe-inspiring O-Daiko. They also performed Monochrome, and though that was always the song I skipped through when I was listening to the CD, tonight I think I discovered a new-found appreciation for the song. The technical prowess it takes to perform the song--the concentration, the ability to sinc in with the group, to know where you are in the piece of music, and of course, the sheer ability to play a shime that fast, and that accurately, well I was really impressed.

After the concert Janet asked me what I thought, and this time, I had a million questions, only a couple of which I was able to even ask. My first being, How did they get that drum over here? And, Do the women get to play in the big pieces? And What kind of bachi are they using in Monochrome? And, Did you see how tight those shime were? I know I was being a complete naivete, or whatever that French word is, but hot-damn, people, KODO!! You may have heard it all, you may seen it all, but when faced with just how good Kodo are when they play, well, it can almost be a little disenheartening. I was kind of thinking to myself, What the heck am I doing trying to play these taiko drums when there are people out there playing them so well, so perfectly, with such heart and stamina and passion? What am I doing pounding those things with what I think is all-my-heart when there are people out there doing it so much better? But I can't let that get me down. Yes, of course, they are some of the best out there. And no, I will never even have as much talent as they have in the little finger of their left (or right) hands, or even in the hairs of their big toes, but it inspires me. I mean I was listening to their solos, and they were big and impressive, but not quite as complicated as I think a solo should be when I'm struggling to compose solos. Something to think about. Janet likes groovy (which I am only beginning to understand--what is that--groovy?) but I can see that there are different ways to play. Different styles. Different influences. I think that as American taiko players we are so at ease with incorporating different rhythms and sounds and influences from around the world--because, as much as I hate sounding patriotic or whatever, that's what American music is--a meld of everything around us. I always hold back on my solos because I think they're so plain and been-there-done-that, yet I was impressed tonight because I realized that a large part of performing a solo is not in the content, but in the delivery.