Ghosts & Girls

I suck at self-promotion, but here it is again: Ghosts and Girls. One night only! Back by popular demand! Come check us out if you weren't able to make it last time! Get your tickets before they sell out!

Bang head here:Ah, feel much better now.

Gig

We had a gig today in Palo Alto. It was a lot of work but a lot of fun. Here is my favorite photo of the day:They gave us ice-cream afterward so it was totally worth it.

Toughening Up

I'm still thinking about what Crissy said the other night: that I need to toughen up for Japan. This morning I think I killed my alarm clock in my sleep and so I woke up late. I hate that. It wasn't so late that I was late for work, but it made me feel a little frantic all day. I'm still exhausted from last weekend. I haven't had time to catch up on sleep. Sunday went really late, considering all the things I had done just to get to Sunday. Rehearsal used up my every last bit of energy, but I still got up on Monday morning (I was so so tempted to call in sick), went to work, and then, inspired by Crissy, I went on a 5-mile jog after work.

Tonight was taiko teaching night, and I got there at 5:15, which is my own personal rehearsal time. I worked on solos and I was such a sweaty, dripping blob at 6 that I had to run to the store to get more drinks to re-hydrate for the 2 sets of taiko teaching classes that followed. My entire t-shirt was soaking wet. Wow. It doesn't even get that wet when I go running. But this is good. This is good toughening-up. I think toughening up is way more mental than it is physical. It's all about how far you think you can push yourself, and then moving beyond that and discovering that how far you thought you could go isn't as far as you actually can go. I like to read Megan's Blog and no matter how hard I think I work, it's good to know that there is someone out there a hundred times more driven and passionate than I am. It also helps to know that I'm not alone in what sometimes feels like the neurotic drive to play taiko. The other day Megan was talking about doing some sit ups, which are good and I was thinking hey maybe I ought to do more of those, but then I read on and she was doing them on an incline, and I was impressed, but then she said she was doing all that while clutching a 20-pound weight to her chest. Yikes.

But I think a more important thing for me is skills. Practice. Yes. Speaking of skills, I've been a little insistent with my students that they learn skills, and by golly, they are learning skills! I am so proud of them. One of my wonderful students said she went out and got a practice pad and some sticks and was practicing all week at home. I could have burst into tears, I was so proud and happy. And it showed too! She really rocked the basic beat we have been working on. See what practice can do?

Born To Drum 2008

Spent this past weekend at Born to Drum, a drumming camp for women. This was one of those great adventures that hits you suddenly and when you realize how wonderful it is, it's over and you can't stop thinking about it.

The weekend actually started off on Thursday night with a concert by the Born to Drum faculty at La Pena. Our plan was to play Kaitoryu. But did we play Kai? Well, not really. Kaitoryu is one of those songs that require the most extremest of extreme concentration. You can't think about anything except where you are in the song and what pattern you are going to play next. If not, you're doomed. We've been working on this song for years, and although we've played it perfectly many times before, train wrecks are still not uncommon, and they're hard to predict. They just happen. We have a 6-person version of the song and when you have that many people playing it's easier to pull the song off because chances are, a couple of you can keep it together. With just two people bad things can happen, and they did. We train-wrecked that song like there was no tomorrow. Sigh. I was so disappointed. I'm not sure why I felt so bad. After all, we were playing in front of the Born to Drum audience, who are the most loving and supportive people in the whole world. They didn't know and they didn't care if we messed up--that's the kind of love that was in that sold-out room. It was just one of those days where neither of us could play it right. But I knew that I could do better. I have worked hard on that song and spent many, many hours trying to get it right. But on one of the nights that I wanted to get it right, I didn't. I could have held the song together. I could have put us back on track. I didn't. That night I sighed and moped around until I finally went to bed at 2 am.

When I woke up the next morning, I realized that there were three options available to me:
1) I could just let it go, move on, and not obsess about it. Messing up is part of your life experience and it helps you grow and become a better person.
2) We could try playing it again and fail horribly at it, in which case I'd probably wish I had chosen option 1.
3) We could try playing it again and nail it and it would feel so good!

I contemplated this as we loaded out for Drum Camp. The good thing about our practice drums is that they are made out of plastic and are really light. The only bad thing is that they're bulky and hard to transport. We got some help from our favorite roadie, Ed. Check out what you can do with a pick up truck, rope and a guy who knows his knots:Before we left we went to grab some coffee and I surprised myself a little when I proposed the idea to Janet that we play Kaitoryu again at the big, Saturday night concert, in addition to the other song we already had worked out. I told her I wanted redemption and that I thought we could pull it off. I didn't realize until the words came out how determined I was to get Kaitoryu right. Yes. Janet seemed to like the idea and was game. Ok then!

As soon as we got to the beautiful Walker Creek Ranch in Marin, it was a race to unload and get set up before our first class. They had us in a building aptly called the "Barn." It actually was a barn, with creaky wooden floors and great soaring inside space--perfect for taiko:The skylights made the space kind of dreamy. Nice effect. We taught for an hour and a half and all the good times from previous camps came back to me. The people who attend and teach at the camp are some of the most wonderful people in the world. They bring such great spirits and energy and everyone is friendly and happy and positive. We had a good class.

After I found my room and got settled, I ran (scampered on all fours at times) to the top of a nearby hill for a bird's eye view of the camp:
And of the surrounding foothills:
I loved the location of the previous camps on the Marin Headlands, but I have to admit that the facilities here at the ranch were better suited to accommodate all of us. The camp keeps growing every year. Plus there is something about the rustling of summer grass that makes me deeply happy.

That evening we had the welcome ceremony, and by the time it was over it was a little late, but hey--this is drum camp! I ran back to get my bachi and headed back to the barn where it was quiet, and they had some strange green theater lights hitting the ceiling, and softer white light casting circles of illumination on the barn floor, and dark, wooden shadows everywhere else. I paused a moment to breathe in the cool, foggy night air, and to listen to the sound of small scampering things beneath the floor and the chirping insects calling out from their secret places in old knots of wood. It was like church. I had this entire space all to myself and it was full of taiko drums! No commitments! No bedtime! No curfew! And no neighbors who would complain, and even if there were neighbors they were all drummers! I don't know about you, but this was heaven. Yes, I'd died and gone to heaven and heaven is a barn. I played Kai over and over again, and I played drills, and I worked on diddles and noodling and learning the song Janet taught earlier that day. It was the best thing ever! I was so happy I'm sure I glowed in that sacred, beautiful darkness. When I finally returned Janet laughed and shook her head and called me obsessed. It was a compliment.

The next day was full of classes to learn all things percussion and also sharing taiko with the most enthusiastic students. When we weren't doing that we found time to rehearse. We ran Kai and Heiya, made a couple of mistakes, and ran them again. Janet kept joking that I was going to make her do it all over again if she got it wrong. Of course I never said that, but that's probably what she'd make herself do, and that's certainly what I made myself do. See why I like Janet? Badass.

When we showed up for the Saturday night concert we were surprised that they had put us first on the bill. We've never been first! We're always last. I wasn't quite prepared for that, but I had no time to worry, which was a good thing. I tied my obi, took a deep breath, and mentally embraced that lovely, lovely audience. And can I just say? We played Heiya and Kai PERFECTLY!!! I was so happy and relieved! I yelled to Janet during the thunderous applause: We did it!! And the best part was that the crowd was so amazingly wonderful. They gave us such good energy and there was no way you could feel bad about anything in the world with that crowd. In taiko you always try to project energy but to get it back that way, oh that's just love.
And so happy! I've never been happier to perform taiko, ever.

Go for Option #3, people. It is so worth it.

The next day we taught one more class and then had to pack up haul our butts back to Alameda for a gig. It was a benefit for Todd Blair, and they unveiled the most amazing wall of gears put together by various artists:Or watch it in motion:

As if a weekend of drumming, plus a gig, wasn't enough for us, we still had a 3 hour rehearsal for next Friday's gig. I was tired, but Crissy said I better toughen up for Japan, and she told me about how hard she always worked when she was over there. That gave me renewed energy and inspiration, or at least it motivated me to appear as if I had energy. I made it through rehearsal and came home a zombie, but isn't that the best kind of tired? To be so tired from doing the things you like the best?

I think you get through it because your heart is all filled up with joy. Yeah, that's what it is. That's why we do it.

I CAN'T BREATH-ID!

The only time I can breathe is when I'm playing taiko. The rest of the time my nose feels like it is imploding. Literally. It feels like the works that are up my nose are closing up like the little hole on the top of a dolphin's head just before it dives beneath the water. What is wrong with me? My body is 100% great. My nose is filled with peas! Allergies? Maybe. A cold? Doubtful. It's weird because my body has never done this to me before and it's hard to say that I can look forward to a time when this will be over since I don't even know what "this" is. Well today was a little better than yesterday. And hopefully tomorrow will be better than today.

This is going to be a very busy next few days. Tomorrow me and Janet play a gig at La Pena for the Born to Drum folks. And then Friday-Sunday we are up in Petaluma teaching taiko at the Born to Drum Camp. That's always a great event--this will be my 3rd year. The only hard part is transporting the drums, but we are getting some extra help so it should be easier. We are performing a new, 2-person version of an old song that required me to write a new, longer solo, but one that I refused to let myself stress out about. Hence, I have a new, longer solo that I am proud that I managed to pull off without the usual insecurities involved in solo-composition. This is a great leap forward for me. Then on Sunday evening Maze has another gig to help out fellow artist Todd Blair in his recovery from an accident. I can't say I know anything about Todd or his work, but I am glad that people from a wide variety of genres are coming together to help one of their own. Then the following Friday we have another gig. And then Saturday, August 2nd Maze will be presenting a second, by-popular-demand performance of Ghosts and Girls.

Phew, yo.

Claritin Clear?

I have been battling my worst bout of allergies, ever. It's probably my fault since I went running on Thursday on the trails at Mills after they have been on their never ending quest to chop down all the 100-year old eucalyptus trees and then wood-chipping them, which I'm sure releases the 100 years of pollen and dust that have been accumulating on those trees all that time. Also doesn't help that the wildfires are still sending smoke our way so that the sky is hazy. I haven't stopped sneezing since I woke up on Friday, and on Saturday I finally broke down and bought some Claritin. I don't know if you've seen the commercials, but they'll show a pretty landscape, but it's kind of blurry, and then they peel back the blur so that everything is crisp and in focus: Claritin clear! Supposedly Claritin clears up your allergy symptoms without drowsiness. But I've felt like someone has pulled over a veil of blur across my eyes. Yes, the sneezing has subsided and my head doesn't feel like it's going to explode, but I am just floating through my day. Yesterday I was like a cat and I would get up and do things, but then I would lay down on the couch and fall asleep for an hour or two, and then get up and do more things, and then fall asleep again. My friend and I went out to get a bowl of noodles and we passed the exit and I was like why didn't you get off the freeway? That was our exit! But then she just kind of looked at me funny because it wasn't our exit at all and I have no idea why I thought that was our exit.

And today at practice we would play and then we'd have a little break and I would sit down and stare and get lost in the pretty little patterns in the hardwood floor. There are swirls here, and parallel lines there, and the dark growth rings stand in contrast to the meaty centers that signify each year of life and growth cycle, the trees reaching up to the sunlight, their roots digging down into the earth, the sound of the wind through the branches and leaves, the sound of rain on the forest floor, you hear birds calling out to one another, you feel the crunch of other seasons beneath your feet, and you see and hear all these things as you follow the lines in the smooth and polished hardwood floor as they diverge and then come back together again and if you follow the lines they take you on this journey through history and then HEIYA!!!! IT'S TIME TO WORK ON HEIYA!! Huh? What? Oh, ok. It was really hard to concentrate, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the stage and take a nap. Or maybe I could fit in the drum bags. Yeah, maybe I could crawl in and then get someone to zip me up. When I got home tonight I napped again, but I kept waking myself up with my own snoring! I get soup for dinner (good for the sinuses!) and then I will float into bed, and hopefully get a good night's rest.

It's hard though. Do I run tomorrow, which is my only chance this week to put in a workout since every night is booked through until Sunday, or do I take it easy and give my body a break? I'm training for Sado, yo. Plus I'm stubborn. I think I will run. Maybe stay off the trails, but I've got to get myself ready.

Stupid allergies.

Training

I am training for my upcoming trip to Sado. I want to lose the 5 pounds that snuck up on me out of nowhere since the last time I weighed myself a couple of months ago, plus build up my upper body strength (push-ups, yo--100 a day), plus build endurance so a 45 minute run is just maintenance. Plus we did some funky yoga leg squatting things the other day that turned my quads into jelly but which must be doing something good. I have 2 months. Less than that actually. Seven weeks to a better me. I cover my ears and say Nya-Nya-Nya! when Crissy and Janet have said that things there are not that hard. No, I want to believe that they will be that hard. That's such great motivation. I hear there's this hill we have to run up every morning. Did I say hill? I actually mean MOUNTAIN. Yeah, 45% grade, uphill, both ways. I can do this.

A month or two ago a friend of mine said she wanted to run a marathon. I didn't tell her that normal people usually train intensively for 6, 9 or 12 months to get to the point where they can run a marathon. They eat and sleep in whole new ways and spend countless hours with running clubs or buddies to get to the starting line. But I know that she doesn't pay attention to those kinds of things and if she wants to run a marathon, then, eh, she'll run a marathon. There is no sense in telling someone that something isn't possible if they don't want it to be impossible. So even though I'm not training for a marathon, I can at least have the mindset that I'm training for something almost as hard.

Tired!

Played taiko for 4 hours tonight with no break! Started out working on Kai and Heiya for upcoming Drum Camp and really worked up a sweat. I wrote an extended solo for Heiya and surprised myself by playing it in front of Janet without messing up or feeling too nervous. Yes, I've been practicing it, and the thought of faking something crossed my mind, but no, when it was time for me to solo it just slid right off my bachi. Wow, that's progress. After that I went right into my Intro class. It was about 90 million degrees today, but I decided I wanted to stick with my syllabus and teach them Strong as Cow, which is a sweaty, energy-driven drill. Fun, but a workout. They were game. And then it was time for Intermediate class. I've been pushing them and they've been keeping up and in great spirit too. We're learning a new song. They're doing great.

But I'm tired. I almost fell asleep in my dinner. Bed soon.

Feeling It

We worked on kata yesterday at Maze rehearsal. My arms and legs hurt and it is a good hurt because it reminds me that there is still so much to work on, but it is also good because I don't want to lose the perspective of being a beginner. Yeah, that arm needs to go up, those legs need to sink, the waist needs to turn. You work on those things to become better. It's good not only for me, but to remember that that is what I am asking of my own students. I appreciate their work on becoming better players, and I can't forget that afterwards they probably ache a little too. I hope I don't push them too hard. But the challenge is good too. I don't get a kick out of the pain, but it reminds you that taiko is played with the whole body. That it is the body that brings expression to the music.

Hot bath. That's the best thing for afterwards.

Caught Between Two Worlds

I have been lamenting over getting one of those shiny new Mac Notebooks with all their bells and whistles and the little apple icon on the front that lights up when you open it. But on the other hand, I have always admired the timeless and utilitarian Moleskine notebooks, which as far as I know, only come with a bookmark ribbon and a pocket in the back, and which I can say, constitutes neither bell nor whistle. Fortunately, Moleskines are much more affordable than Macs, and I find it hard to imagine that the absolute joy and contentment of a completely filled Moleskine is even in the same league as filling up your hard drive. And while the notebook computer is a really neat invention, nothing can quite compare to the tactile experience of an actual notebook. I love opening them up and burying my nose in the spine and smelling that sweet, new-paper smell. I like running my hands over the smooth, new pages. It's even better when the pages are imprinted with the braille-like texture of writing, and I love the way that those pages crackle when you turn them. I like the corners when they're new and crisp, and I like them when they're softened by use and countless trips in your backpack.

Only recently have I come to appreciate the order and logic of graph-paper pages. For some reason I feel compelled to write in ALL-CAPS, which is a much more legible form than my usual scrawl. The squares also help me to write out kuchi shoga (the language of taiko where each sound represents a type of hit), and to document time easier. I used to like blank Moleskines, but there is something about opening a page filled with squares that is easier to face than a completely blank page. With squares the foundation is already laid out for you, you just have to decide what sits on top of it. With the blank page, the possibilities are endless and infinite, and consequently, intimidating.