I'm Performing at Yoshi's!!

An Afternoon of Japanese Ghost Stories and Jazz at Yoshi's Halloween Weekend
Nov. 1, 2009 2PM One Performance Only!

Sunday 2:00 pm Matinee
$5 Kids (10 to 17 years)
$15 Adult (With Kid)
$20 Adult (General)

Please buy tickets in advance at: http://sfyoshis2.inticketing.com/events

The haunting eloquence of Brenda Wong Aoki's ghost stories masterfully performed in concert with Asian Jazz pioneer composer Mark Izu, featuring the thunder drums of Janet Koike & Kathryn Cabunoc of Maze Daiko, Anthony Brown on multiple percussion and Shoko Hikage on Koto. A record release concert for Legend of Morning Glory (a Kabuki Taiko Oratorio).

“Japanese Ghost Stories and Jazz” is a performance of two ancient Japanese ghost stories, re-written and performed from a modern American perspective by acclaimed contemporary solo performance artist and writer Brenda Wong Aoki, in concert with original music from Emmy award-winning jazz composer Mark Izu. This unique contemporary show integrates Japanese theatrical techniques, story, visual motifs and musical instruments like taiko drumming and the koto. Both artists are widely known for their groundbreaking work that combines non-Western theatrical performance jazz and spoken word traditions. This is a one-time only Halloween weekend performance that the whole family (with children ages 10 and up) will enjoy!


" Mark Izu's music is a great gift to the jazz tradition, to its on going transformation and revitalization into energetic and unpredictable new directions" - Downbeat Magazine

"...Aoki's remarkable talents as a performer and storyteller - talents which include an impressive synthesis of modern and traditional Japanese and American theatrical techniques of dance, mime, movement, song and voice placement..." Hollywood Drama-Logue

My Instrument de Jour

I just got my first lesson on the pandeiro!! What an awesome instrument! It's similar to a tambourine, but I have to admit, people who play the pandeiro look way cooler than tambourine players. In fact, it was seeing Michaelle playing the pandeiro that made me want to take her class! There's a lot of technique involved. Tonight we learned some different right hand hits: heel, toe, slap, muff and tone. There's also the left hand, which doesn't do as much fancy stuff as the right hand. No, the left hand is the poor stepsister. It's got to hold the darn thing up and pivot to give the right hand an easier time. But Michaelle described the role of the left hand as an energy thing. She had first learned to play with the left hand stiff and stable, but once she learned to pivot with the left, the whole energy of the instrument and its relation to her body changed. She said that the energy was free to circulate throughout her body, and playing was way more comfortable. I like that concept. Now I just have to practice it! I'm way totally excited about this class. Hooray!!

Gigs, Gigs, Gigs!

I have a lot on my plate right now, and a part of me doesn't feel ready for any of it. I have a whole string of performances coming up, one right after another. Next weekend I take my taiko class to perform at a street festival in Alameda. It should be good, no pressure fun. I'm proud of my students--they can really rock out on the taiko, and they put such heartfelt effort into it all. Their spirit just blows me away.

After the street fair (next week already, ack!), I play at the Yerba Buena Gardens with Mark Izu and friends in a new rendition of his "Songs for Sensei," which we did at the DeYoung earlier this year. Performing with him requires a great feeling of the music, a trusting of instinct, and it's a challenge, but I really like it. The other day Janet asked if I wanted to do a second performance of this at Yoshi's in November, and I nearly jumped out of my chair. But gotta be cool, right? And then I was like, oh hell yeah!!! Woo! Yoshi's, people! Legendary jazz venue! OMG! But gotta put my cool jazz face on. Yeah, man, it's cool, I can do that gig.

Then it's off to Dance Mission to perform at the 2nd Annual Meigetsu (Harvest Moon) Taiko Festival. We have the privilege of performing with a number of other great taiko groups. Last night we spent some time rehearsing Naori for that, and afterwards I stayed late and provided groove for one of my Maze-mates, who is working on solo composing (boy, do I know what that's like). I just knelt there with my eyes closed and played bell forever for her--it was therapeutic and meditative and just what my heart needed. I think it was helpful for her too.

And then next we are off to the DeYoung again on November 20th to revive "Ghosts and Girls" with the Mark and Brenda team. This time Brenda is bringing in dancers from ODC who have been working with someone named Kimi Okada, whom I don't know but have heard is an amazing dancer and a really good person to know. I look forward to meeting her, and to see how the dancers contribute to the show. It's really exciting! Maybe we do the show again in April in Monterey. Wow!

So sheesh, I need to hunker down.

Violets

Today was an African Violet re-potting day. Every time I repot my violets, I end up with exponentially more than I did before I repotted them. These things have a way of reproducing themselves. I am very happy to say that almost all my violets descended down from the violets that my Mom left behind. Sadly, I have lost a couple of her violets to either old age or disease or both. But I am even more thrilled to witness their phoenix-like ways of reproducing themselves. You can literally take a leaf, pluck it from a plant, stick it in soil, and have one or more plants some time later. Patience is key, and they need little else but some sun, water and a little love. I say that's incredibly easy.  And woah, that's why I have a zillion plants (the ones in the picture above are just the ones in my home office--I have more at work and in the kitchen--any where there is sunlight!). If you count carefully, there are 21 pots of violets in that picture alone (and one determined Christmas cactus)!!!

I'm going to give one away and hope to find more people to give them to. I gave one to Janet on her birthday a few months ago and she sent me a picture of it in bloom. So yo, if I know you and you know me, let me know if you want a violet and I'll get one to ya!

My Summer Vacation

I don't even know how to document the last few weeks. I have been on SOooo many adventures, it feels like I've been gone forever. I've packed and unpacked. I've logged, literally, over 8,000 miles. Travelled to FOUR different time zones. And it's all been good times. It really has. 

There is no way I can coherently document it all except in lazy slideshow format. Here goes.

Started off by decompressing from the July Maze concerts. That means unpacking. You wouldn't think doing a gig in Alameda would mean luggage, but it does. There are so many minutia involved in a gig for me. Just remembering to pack the right socks, and the bachi, and costume, water bottles, hachimaki. It's all so random, and it all needs to be put away and cared for. I take good care of my equipment--from the stinky tank tops to the too-long obi. Everything has a place, needs it's own special laundering and care.  

Then it was on to my Great Canadian Adventure. I've been looking forward to this trip for years. I've always thought of Canada as this wondrous far-off place. I wanted to see urban Canada, so it was off to Toronto. When I was about 14 or so I discovered the Cowboy Junkies, who recorded their landmark and what I think is their best album at the Church of the Holy Trinity. Coming here was kind of a mecca for me:

The hotel I was staying at was actually right beside the church. It was great to visit it. They had a concert series that I attended. It was organ music, and I struggled to maintain consciousness through it, but it was great to actually hear music in the church.

Next was a day trip to the great Niagara Falls. It's just a couple hours away from Toronto. I did the obligatory Maid of the Mist boat ride to the base of the falls. You'd be surprised at how heart-pounding the falls are when you get right up next to them. A friend of mine told me she was performing at about the same time I was down there in all the foam and mist, and I tried to channel some of the Niagara energy her way. She told me later that she felt a great "surge" of energy during her performance. I was worried my channelling from such a great and powerful place would have knocked her off the stage, but she said it was great. Go figure, the universe.

I also heard that a trip to Toronto wasn't complete unless you went up to the CN Tower. It was the tallest structure in the world until those folks in Dubai went and had to build something taller, but the CN Tower still has the distinction of the "Tallest Observation Deck." Whatever. It was WAY up there.

You see that big round thing? That's where everyone goes. It's got great views of the whole world. We spent some time there. They've got a place where the floors are glass and you can look straight down. I sat on the glass floors. It took me two or three tries to muster the courage to walk on them, and my hands were sweating, and I was reaching out for--what, handrails or something? But I managed to plop my butt down and said, Hey take a picture of me--quick, before I pee my pants!

I can't believe I'm smiling! But then there's an observation deck above the big bulbous thing. You have to pay extra to get up there, but I figured since we made it that far, eh, what's seven more bucks!?

Did I tell you that Toronto was in the midst of a messy labor strike? For us tourists, this amounted to a garbage strike, since it was the garbage that most people notice. But there must be something about the Canadian sensibility that makes the citizens proud of their city, their homes, their parks. While piles of garbage here and there were noticeable, it wasn't totally horrible. I was expecting something along the lines of what the San Francisco garbage strike looked like. But these people love their city, yo. I think Americans are willing to live in their mess and garbage because of notions of entitlement, but the Canadians, whoa. Even when we were driving through the neighborhoods after our Niagara tour, the garbage was organized, piled up as it may be, but not disgusting. Not gross. I have respect. 

This is me looking all Emo on the subway. Clean, tidy subways--trains arriving on time and often. Easy to navigate.

Went to check out a Korean pastry shop that sold these walnut cakes. Internationally renowned. Great cakes. We ate half a dozen and took another half a dozen to go. Yum!!

Toronto was great. But another great dream of mine was to visit Prince Edward Island. Yes the Prince Edward Island of Anne of Green Gables fame. When I was a kid I would watch the Anne series with my Mom when it came on PBS. We would just laugh and sigh over Anne's adventures and the beautiful landscapes. It would have been great to go with my Mom, but I did the second best thing, which was to just go. 

Everything there was a postcard. Everything was beautiful.

The airport was tiny. Smaller than Kona or Hilo:

I stayed at an inn with its own pond. It was beautiful. They had hammocks and a rowboat (which sadly, I didn't take out). But it was tranquil and idyllic. Everything you'd imagine PEI to be.

We did the Anne of Green Gables Thing. Here is me and the Anne House:

Me and Anne at the Anne theme park (Her head is bigger than I'd imagined):

The first thing I did when I got to PEI was get bit by a ravenous mosquito. That thing must have had cooties because the next day I was so sick and feverish, I thought I had West Nile. But a good fever and a hot bath will do wonders. Look at this monster bite. It looks like my knee has an extra knob, but no, that's the bite!!!

Weird Canadian canned meat. I love the "Kam," sitting right next to the more familiar, "Spam."

Then it was off to Greenwich beach, a beautiful spot on the Northeastern shore of the island. They built a boardwalk through the delicate dune ecosystem so that you could enjoy the view without trampling the land or getting your feet wet. None of the pictures did it any justice. It was beautiful, with such depth of the landscape and wondrous colors.

I sat on the beach, Japanese-style, on the Atlantic side of the continent:

The water was full of strange jellyfish, and the water was cold, yo! If the Canadians consider these the "warm" waters, I'd hate to see what cold waters are like!

Our last day was spent in Charlottetown, enjoying good eats (seafood balls and a lobster sandwich and a whole bowl of PEI mussels, not pictured):

And if Canada wasn't enough, I got home, unpacked, and then packed again for a trip home to LA to attend the North American Taiko Conference. It was great to reconnect with old friends, attend a workshop, and perform at Taiko Ten in front of all my peers.

Me and Lis at the opening session:

Me and Crissy right before Taiko Ten:

The whole Maze team (Plus Toni, who made our costumes and who inspires more than one of us) right after Taiko Ten:

Oh, and I saved the best for last. At Conference I adopted the latest baby in my little taiko family: it's an Okedo. Crissy and Janet both said it was a boy, and I got that vibe too. He'll balance out the girl vibe of my shime and josuke. Meet my newest baby:

I have so much I need to do now. Just the day-to-day stuff like balancing my checkbook and getting my car registered and mopping the floor. Hopefully I can start making a dent in that tomorrow, my last day of vacation. Can't wait to get back to teaching my taiko class (it's only been 3 weeks, but it feels like forever!!). Plus Maze has some new shows on the horizon and there's a race I'd like to run, and work beckons. I thought vacation was supposed to be restful, but I look forward to the normalcy of life again, not to mention getting everything unpacked! 

See you down the road, yo!

Coming Out of the Haze

The concerts left me physically and emotionally drained. My mind has been a haze that I am only now coming out of. Usually listening to music on my ipod provides some comfort, but there is a part of me that can't even bear to listen to music. At first all I listened to were my ocean wave and rain soundtracks. Just the push and pull of water, the sound of it falling. And then a little later I could bear the sound of classical music--cello song moving up and down like breath. Couldn't bear the sound of a beat, of rhythm. Today I am listening to Steve Reich's "Drumming." Yes it's got meter and rhythm, but not in a conventional way. The music shifts too much to even tap your foot to. But it's what I need. That slow adjustment into the light. 

Recently in China they rescued a small group of mine workers who had been trapped in utter darkness for weeks. They showed pictures of them in a hospital, their eyes covered in black cloth to protect their vision from the light of this above-ground world, their bodies battered and exhausted.

I am trying to unwrap the dark layers of cloth, not from my eyes, not even from my ears, but from my heart maybe. 

Maze Daiko in Concert!

I don't even know how to begin to recap this concert. It was such a journey, it really was. Parts of it started so long ago, and other parts only fell into place as the time drew near. What made it special was all the dedication of the members of Maze. They're all such pro's in their own rights, and coming together in collaboration made for a great show.

I for one, was filled with anxiety the whole time. There were so many goals for me to achieve. The first was composing my own first song, Naori. I must be game for a challenge, since I composed the song in 6/8, which is the meter that has been dogging me for years. On top of that, I had to compose my own solo, in six (!), as well as be the creative go-to person for the song. I'm never that person. But it's like I had to make these creative decisions, and though I had something of a vision, it was a position I was green at being in. I think the song went well. It starts off with the most quiet delicate pattern I could possibly play on a shime. This pattern, played 8 times, gave me no end of grief. A month before the concert I broke my favorite bachi, and that was the bachi I was going to use for the song. So I experimented with different bachi, and settled on heavier bachi, only to drive myself into an anxiety-ridden frenzy, since it's really hard to play something really softly with heavy bachi, and even more impossible if your hands are all nerves and shakes, which only adds again to the nerves. It was awful. Just plain awful. The week before the show I was panicking. So stressed. But I finally allowed myself a compromise with a lighter pair of bachi and a new attitude. And then it was cool.

I worked really hard at composing solos, learning new patterns, new sequences, entire new songs. It was hard work. It's been a long process. Finally a couple days before the show I began to feel solid. The stress eased. The songs were in my body. I began to relax. Began to think about projecting. And then one evening I was like, Oh, I should just review my Kanki solo. I wrote this solo way back in 2005 and have been playing it ever since then, pretty much flawlessly. It's been set and projected so many times that I've ignored it. But then I started thinking about this one part, and then I was like, Hmm, is that how I play it? And then when we were rehearsing I thought way too much about it, and then I couldn't remember how it went at all, and then things just exploded into a horrible downward spiral. For the life of me, I couldn't remember how the solo went. It was really bad. I stayed late to work on it. I reviewed it. I re-wrote it. And in my mind I was like: Oh no! How could this happen? Why am I stressing out about this solo, of all things?

But then I realized that I knew exactly what my mind was doing. My mind was distracting me from all the other things that I could be stressing about! Like there was this one side of me that was totally stressed about new material and new solos, and I had worked so hard to perfect and perform them, and I was finally at the point where I could actually perform them. And then there was the other side of me that was protective of that new vulnerable side, and it was saying, Hey look at me! Over here! Worry about me instead! And it worked. I was so distracted about this solo, I didn't even think about all the other stuff. And yo, I nailed it! The other stuff that is. Mangled my solo. But eh, I can live with that!

The audience was great. My Dad was there. Teachers past and present were there. Old friends and the newer ones met along the way. Maze had a wonderful show. I am proud of us and all the hard work that went into this. There were moments of fear but we worked through it, didn't back down, and I am grateful for that.

Just wanted to end this post with a quote I found on Canadian money (!) of all places:

"Could we ever know each other in the slightest without the arts?"

Burning the Candle

I've been having some great conversations on creativity with a friend of mine, and we talk about "burning the candle," like in the saying, "burning the candle at both ends." It's when you are working really hard and everything is bright and intense and the light you create shines and shines, but maybe you know you can't keep burning like that forever, but it's good to experience all that light and intensity while you can. That's where I am at. Things are getting intense. Intensity is not a bad thing, but it's a strong thing. Nerves and emotions get amplified, the effort you put in is harder than ever, but the progress you make is greater and the work you do is more fulfilling and meaningful. 

We had an all day rehearsal today.  Everyone worked really hard and we got a lot done. There is also a lot we need to do. There is a lot that I need to do. My transition sheet is all marked up with notes. Just trying to keep track of where all my bachi need to be is a whole world of memorization in itself, not to mention all the places we need to move the drums and what spikes they go on and in what order it all needs to be done. Oh, and did I mention, we're playing taiko in between all that? But I like working on transitions. I like how they are just pure order and logic--it balances out all that creativity of the rest of the stuff. 

Intense, yes.

After we had packed everything back up and and tidied the rehearsal space (they have church there on Sundays) and put all our personal things away, and as people were talking about their dinner plans and heading out the door, Janet looked up and me and said, "You still want to practice, huh?" It wasn't something I had planned on but I was like, "Yeah!" She accused me of being obsessive-compulsive about my practice, and then she said she was too, and it felt really good to be working, to be burning that candle. It was great because she and I had a productive extra-practice time and we worked on some things, and I had a great epiphany about part of a song that I've been majorly stressing over and losing confidence on all week, and I also got some solo-practice time in. It was wonderful, and it felt really good. 

When I was on my way home, I was surprised by a rain shower. I think everyone was. It's July! People I passed on the way home kept turning their heads up and looking at the sky in wonder. As the sun set, it slanted through the empty place between the rainclouds and the horizon, and we were rewarded by one of the most brightest rainbows I've ever seen here in California. I got a great picture of it arcing over my apartment. Beautiful, burning sky.

Feeling All Right

Had a rehearsal tonight. It went well. It was the first time in a while that I've had a rehearsal and felt good about the material we worked on.  It was our silly toy-song and also my song.

I've got to tell you, I've been majorly stressing about my song. The process of writing the solo was semi-treacherous, made easier by the muse-cubes, but still a work in progress. I set something for the show, but as I get more comfortable with it, there are parts I don't like, and places I want to add to. But since the show is 10 days away, I have to live with what I set. I need to fill it with energy and project it out into the world. I was telling this to my students the other night. Set it--no matter how you feel about it--get it in stone and be able to really rock it. Now it's a matter of getting it into my body, which for me, means playing it over and over and over. I wake up and play it. I play it on my desk all day at work. I play it before I go to bed and I play it in my sleep. I want to get to the point where I can space out in the middle and my hands and my body will know where I am and what comes next, despite where my brain happens to be.

Tonight, I was given the great gift of time. I had the performance space all to myself, and after our rehearsal it was just me and the drums. It was really a beautiful thing. The sun slanted down in the sky and disappeared, and the air was warm, and the whole atmosphere was blue and I just breathed in the blue light and the blue air, and the room filled with inky shadows and that blue stillness. I played in that dying, vibrating light, filling all the dark places with boom and echo. I've been working on a very delicate pattern. I can't play it if my hands shake. I am terrified of messing it up. I worked and worked that one pattern. As it grew darker, it became easier, and I finally realized that what I needed to do was relax my kata and fall back on all those lessons on sticking and grip and control and technique. Then it was easy. I gained all my confidence back. Yeah, that makes a girl feel all right.

I came home tonight, late, tired but happy, and best of all, feeling confident about things. This is a good feeling. I am starting to feel good about things, and boy am I telling you: that's progress.

On other fronts, I am Maze's equipment-fixer-maker person. I like this job. The way that I know that Janet needs something fixed is that she will tape the HELL out of whatever is broken. Seriously. Tape is her answer to all that ills the world. One of the wheels fell off a stand and that thing was taped up like there was no tomorrow. Today I brought a stand home because I discovered this: 

Yep. Needs fixing all right. I dropped some new screws and a zip tie and the thing was all better. 

Me too.

Jangled

I am majorly stressed. I should be practicing instead of blogging, but maybe the venting will do me good. Due to some staffing issues, I got put in the one song I thought I was going to get a break from. A song I haven't played since before I went on Kasa/Mix last year. This puts me in ALL the songs of the show. It's a beautiful and fun song, but just one more layer difficulty to add to this show. I can do this, and I can't complain. I guess you have to be careful for what you wish for, since playing taiko like this is just a dream come true. I'm in all12 songs and many transitional pieces. My nerves are all jangled. We're running out of time. Songs need to be finished and polished. Not to mention all the drum moving, which is a whole thing in itself. Need to memorize where my bachi need to be for each song. My percussion. Work on solos. Song order.

AAAAAAAaaaa!

OMG how am I going to do all this??? How?

Composing, Whooping and Wiggling

Been so busy lately. Have a lot of work I need to do for the Big Show. One of the main things I need to do is compose and polish solos. I have to make a solo using those toys above. I'm not committed to the accordion though. It came with instructions on how to play 2 or 3 songs but I don't know if I can pull off a convincing My Darlin' Clementine by July 17th. Maybe I'll try something more conservative with the monkey chappa player and the frog thingies. 

But writing solos is so hard. That's one of those things that have never come easy for me. I sit down and get up and sit down again and I get one line out at a time--and very laboriously so. I suppose it will get easier someday. 

A friend of mine gave me a great gift a week ago. They're called Muse Cubes, and when you find yourself with writer's block, you pull out these babies and give them a roll. One cube has something you do with your body, and the other one has something you do with your voice. The instructions said that we're more creative when we're not standing still. And they've worked! I've howled and bended, sang and wiggled. It's helped! It lets me get out of my head for a minute and then return to work again with a fresh mind. They're one of the most thoughtful gifts I've gotten in a long time.

It's really get down and crunch time. Two rehearsals this week, plus taiko class and then a wild and wacky parade on the 4th. Craziness!

Break a Bachi

The picture about says it all. Broke my first bachi ever, and of course it was during a performance. I recovered quite nicely, but was aghast a minute later when I see this little girl in the front row playing with one of the dangerously sharp splinters. After the song I ran to pick up my poor little bachi and I exclaimed Abunai! to the girl, and even though she probably didn't understand me, she probably recognized the tone.

Crissy says that in Japan they throw all the broken bachi into a bonfire at the end of the year. Maybe we'll have to get one of those going soon.

Past Exhaustion

Woke up today at 5:30 am. When my clock radio went off, my eyes popped open and I jumped out of bed. I'd be a great firefighter. I woke up this early so that I could get ready to run my Stadium to Stadium 10k race. The race took us from the Giant's stadium to Candlestick park. It was a nice race, flat and fast for the most part. I wasn't in the mood to be fast this morning. I wasn't in the mood to run 6 miles at all. But I put this race on my calendar a while back, and since I paid for the darn race, I had to run it. It wasn't bad. I started out sluggish, and by the time my body reluctantly agreed to be running at such an early god-awful time on a Saturday morning, the 49'ers stadium was within sight. The only catch was that while, yes, the stadium was right there, they made us run around a gigantic parking lot. When I say gigantic, I mean gigantic in the biblical sense. When I've run my limit, my body starts getting loopy, and I feel like I'm going to pass out unless I lift my head and look towards the horizon. Only problem with this is that the horizon is filled with teeny-tiny runners very far away--a distance that I still have to run. But I hunkered down and finished the race without walking. They had a great after-party--free pasta and sports drinks and other goodies. I also signed up to be a marrow donor--one of those bucket-list to-do items.

Then it was off to a 5 hour rehearsal. Learning completely new stuff--less than a month out from the big show. I'm feeling the stress, believe me. And I am so utterly exhausted today. It's a good exhaustion, but enough to make me wipe my brow and hunker down and work and push harder than I thought. It's like running in a way. You think you can only go so far, but you lift your head, and accept the fact that the finish line is still a ways off, and just keep moving your feet. You see the great coliseum, you hear the immensity of all those gathered there. You think maybe you're going to pass out, you think your feet won't carry you. But they do. And you get there, even if you think you couldn't. Even if you think the chasm you must pass is biblical. This is going to be a great show. New pieces. Fabulous talent.  But this 5-hour rehearsal really kicked my butt. When I got home I fell (accidentally?) asleep for 15 minutes, only to jump up out of bed to go to the store to get dinner, and eh, while I was up and at it, I cleaned the house. Picked up my pile of dirty clothes, vacuumed the floors, cleaned the bathroom. I figured if I was so tired, then being even more tired wasn't going to hurt. 

I have so much I need to work on! How am I going to do it? 

Lift my head. Raise my eyes toward the coliseum.

Stillness

My body was tired today. I've been busy every night this week, and my mind is sharp and turning and filled with great big plans, but I have neglected listening to my body, this vessel that holds it all. I woke up exhausted this morning, but brushed that aside with cups of coffee. I put in a full day at work, and afterward went on my run. I contemplated skipping the run, but in my mind were all my plans and schedules, and I just had to get this run in. But the whole time my body protested. Protest is not unusual, and I can usually shake it off, but after a while, when my legs wouldn't deliver their usual kick, and my lungs wouldn't pull in enough air, and there was no bounce to my step, and running up a hill was completely out of the question, I finally realized: Hey, I'm kind of tired. I came home and had a dreamless nap, and woke up, my eyes tired and heavy, and reluctantly I have to admit a sort of defeat. I'm tired!

We push ourselves so hard. I want to run. I have a goal, a race, and I want to be prepared. We can do so much with our minds. We can plan. We can reason. Even when we push ourselves past the limits we have created for ourselves, it is a pleasant surprise when our bodies deliver. But I guess I need to listen to my body when it protests. I don't pamper myself. I need to take the time to sit still and breathe. That is hard to do when my mind is so filled with plans and goals. But this is an important part of being busy too, that stillness. I will have to practice that.

Overload

I am decidedly overloaded. But I'm not complaining. I have a ton of things piling up. The horizon is full. My show is coming up way faster than I want to think about. New songs to learn. Old songs to polish. Equipment to build. I need to make two stands for mokugyo, even though I've never played a mokugyo. I've also got a race 2 weekends from now, and ran my body into the ground the other day preparing for it. A parade. Gigs. Just finished a session of taiko classes, and a new one starts right up again after a week off. I am also a student, and just came back from a class tonight that challenged and thrilled me. I love that class. I love how everything I know gets turned completely upside down and shown to me from a new perspective. I've been given the great gift of time and space to practice my own stuff in--that is a wonderful thing, being able to bang on the drum as loud as I want, work on whatever I want. No noise complaints, no muffles on the drums. I need to really take advantage of that. I've been asked for help to build a drum and I hope I can be useful. I asked a new friend for a little of her time to talk about creativity, and was granted with a wonderful conversation that has me feeling inspired again about writing and reading and thinking about new projects. 

And now it's all about cramming all this in. Inhaling it all. A part of me feels absolutely overwhelmed and paralyzed. Another part is rearing to go. But one thing at a time--that's how I get through this.

Show

I've got a show coming up in six weeks. That seems like a long time, but it really isn't. I have a lot I need to work on. I need to compose a solo and learn a couple of new songs and really get Naori polished. I want to practice and practice, but sometimes I despair because I don't think the group wants to do that. We "rehearse." Which is fine. You get together, go over the parts of the songs, and then go home. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one who wants to practice on stuff. I sit at home with my practice pad and metronome and review and drill and do it over and over and over again. I feel we really miss out on important dynamics-stuff when we don't do that sort of practice together. And with only one rehearsal a week how much can we really cover? It makes me feel lonely. I go in early before my classes on Tuesdays to drill and practice by myself. And then I go and practice for hours by myself in the chasm. Sigh.

Not that all that practice and alone-time is a bad thing. I've come to accept this thing about myself: I'm a really slow learner. I'm not calling it a learning disablity, but I have learned to accept the fact that I don't pick things up quickly, and I give myself a break about it. Instead of leaving a class feeling slow and overwhelmed, I just record it and then go over the recording later. I have to learn that way. I guess one of the great lessons I've learned about myself is actually learning about HOW I learn, and then finding a way to work with that. It's made things a whole lot easier, believe me.

But now it is getting toward crunch time. I want to put on a good show. My Dad said he'd come up for this. I'm debuting my new song. Ack, so much to learn and work on! It's that exciting and productive time. Need to ride this wave in.

Wonderful Exhaustion

Had quite the day today. I woke up at 6am and suited up for my See Jane Run 5K run. It's a little hard putting on the short-shorts and facing one of those infamous Bay Area foggy mornings, but it was worth it. The race was in Alameda. The See Jane Run people are really wonderful. They've created this wonderful race geared towards every sort of woman. The whole vibe of the run was about creating this positive space for women to get out and challenge themselves, no matter age or ability, all while having fun. Plus the event was a benefit for Girls Inc, which is a great organization.

After cheering off the half-marathoners, those of us running the 5K warmed up together, gave ourselves a great cheer, and we were off. I put myself about 1/4 of the way into the pack. Not in front, but not in back. Now, I tell myself over and over again that I'm not a competitive runner, and I'm not doing this to compete against others. But there is a side of me that is a competitor, and I think of running as a sport whose only real competition is with yourself. Yes, there are other runners who run the race with you, or maybe even against you, but I really believe that all those other runners are just variations of your own self. 

I started the race out kind of fast--maybe a little faster than I would have wanted. But I had to break free of the pack and find a place where I could run at my own speed. I ran clear of the slower paced people, and then it was a matter of picking off people, or being picked off. I actually didn't get picked off too much, but I was impressed when a lady pushing a stroller picked me off. She actually pushed and excuse-me-ed her way through, and I paced her for a bit before picking her off again. Then it was me and another girl. I ran right on her shoulder the last half of the race. There was a part of me that couldn't muster the will to pass her. I just didn't have the inner strength. But then the finish line came into view. It was still a long ways off, and having it in view can be more painful than not knowing where it is at all. She started to tire, and I managed to pass her for a minute, but then she kicked and flew past me, and there was that little competitor in me who reared up and yelled, oh, HELL no!!, and I put my kick in. I ran up and caught her, and we were side by side, but then she didn't have the gas, and I yelled, come on! come on! And she came back, and we were both flying, and my legs were a little numb from the cold, and in the strangest moment of self-doubt I've ever had, I had the oddest sensation that I wasn't wearing any shorts, and I had to look down to confirm that they were there, and, assured that my shorts hadn't dropped down and mysteriously shimmied off my ankles, I continued to kick, and I beat her, or maybe she didn't have it in her, and that made me a little sad, since she carried me the whole way. I finished in 25:24, which is officially my best time for a 5K since high school.

As if that weren't enough for one day, the next item on my agenda was a gig with Maze at the shopping center next to RCW.  It was one of those throw-away gigs--you go into it knowing no one will show up, except maybe some of your friends, and any random people who happen to be there. So it was fun and easy. We debuted Naori, which went semi-ok, but not perfect. I also debuted my She Goes solo, which I worked on all week. I played it semi-ok too, but it was enough to make me feel confident and happy.

Then there was a couple hours of rest, and then a well-deserved sushi dinner. I ate 6 plates of sushi-boat goodness, which is a record for me. I have a bottomless stomach.

And then we went to check out Slam Bam Story Jam, for an evening of storytelling. Coke, a student in my class, was in the show, as well as Mark and Brenda from Ghosts and Girls days. Coke was really amazing. It's so wonderful to see people you know in the daily context of their lives transform into new beings when they perform. It was a special thing to see that tonight. 

And phew, am I tired! I did more today than I usually do in a month. It's hard to get me out of the house sometimes, but today all those things were totally worth it.

See Kathryn Run!

I'm participating in See Jane Run's 5K race this weekend. It would be more impressive if I were participating in their half-marathon--but maybe next year. Anyhow. Today I picked up my bib, t-shirt, and timing chip. I still have my timing chip on my shoe from Bay to Breakers. I'm lucky number 6092, baby!

Not quite sure how I'm going to do in this one. I gave myself a week off after Bay to Breakers, and I only was able to get one run in this week. But hey--I'm signed up and I am going to run! That beats being sedentary. If I weren't signed up for this race you can bet I'd be fast asleep on my Saturday morning.

Apparently there is going to be chocolate and champagne at the finish line! Too bad I have a gig right after. Maybe I can have one celebratory glass--you know--to toast with.

Bay to Breakers, 2009

Bay to Breakers this year was awesome. I trained hard for this race. I think I trained smart this year too. On Monday I ran 5 miles and then did absolutely nothing else for the rest of the week except eat, rest, and eat some more. I wanted to give my body every advantage and opportunity to recover and repair and be fully ready and energized to run on Sunday.

I was actually surprised at how well I ran, especially since the forecast was for a scorching 90 degrees. I ran really strong and I didn't ever feel particularly tired, and I got water at every station. At one point I grabbed two waters, and in a moment of extreme decadence, I poured one of the waters down my back and drank the other one. On the way up the Hayes Street hill, I found a group of high school cross country runners (I could just TELL they were CC girls--there's something about the understated camaraderie and silent but powerful drive to keep moving) and I hopped on with them. They took me all the way up the hill and beyond. I was going to go with them all the way but I got distracted by a samba group and when I looked back my girls were lost in the crowd. But I pushed on, my legs full of juice and it wasn't until a point in mile 5 where I started to wonder how much longer, but then the course started heading on a gentle downslope, which lifted my spirits. The last leg is through Golden Gate park, and in years past it seemed like it took forever to get through the park, but this year, it just flew by. Before I knew it we were heading toward the final turn before you come up on the Pacific Ocean. I could see the finish line, and my legs were still strong under me, and this guy right in front of me starting kicking, and I decided to go right along with him, and it was like flying, and I ran as hard as I could, my body pushing, arms pumping, lungs filling, your feet only touching the ground for the tiniest of moments, the world streaming by, and before I knew it, it was over, and it felt so good. I ran it it 1:11:24, by my watch. My chip says 1:17, but I had to take a shishi break after the first mile. It's a PR just the same.

This one was for me. I did it. All me. All by myself. Flying.

5K in 20 Minutes!

What? Really? I ran this morning's 5K in 20 minutes?

That's what I was thinking as I hit stop on my watch this morning. I ran See Jane Run's practice 5K. There was a great turn out. Most of the people were there to practice their half marathon, but they also had the 5K course. It's nice and flat, and borders the ocean, which is another great plus. The only thing was the practice starting line must have been 400 meters from the real start, so basically we cut anywhere from 1/2 to 3/4 miles off the real distance, which for a 5K, is quite a bit. So much for trying to time this thing. I'm not complaining though. It was a nice thing they were doing for the half-marathoners. 

I also realized that my new running shoes suck. That's what I get for buying shoes off the internet. I am going to See Jane Run today to get better ones. There's no way I'd make it through Bay to Breakers on these ones. See? It was worth it to wake up early and run this thing.

I'm Gonna Run Bay to Breakers

I've ran close to 90 miles in the last few months. I feel ready for Bay to Breakers. A second ago I wrote that I didn't feel ready, but once I read those words, I had to delete them all. Yes, I feel ready. No, I haven't qualified to get into the elite starting pack, but that's not my goal. My goal is not to compete at all. This is coming from a competitive cross-country runner. Yeah, I used to kick butt in the sport, but now that I am older, or maybe just more tired, I am really just content to finish. Not that I have any intention of walking the race--NO, I am going to run the darn thing. Well, run it as much as I can amongst 60,000 other people (sometimes you have to walk, unwillingly).  This race is for me. I'm going to push. I'm going to elbow my way through the throng of drunk people, and weave my way around the floats, and dodge--at all costs--the naked people. Pacific Ocean, here I come!

I also signed up for a See Jane Run 5K race that happens a couple weeks after Bay to Breakers. The Jane people are holding a practice run this Saturday. They're setting up a 5K course in Alameda. I've signed up for this practice run, and boy am I ready. I'm not there to compete, but there is a part of me that still wants to see where I stand amongst my peers. Plus there are mile markers and I've always wanted to see my splits.

I'm liking this running thing. When I run there is nothing else but breath and body. The more you run this time, the farther you can go next time. The more I run, the further my thoughts are left behind, the further every day life, and the future and past, and everything that ails me gets left behind. There is just you and your body. And after a run nothing is as good as feeling the sweat drip off your head and the clarity of your mind and the dull ache in your muscles that let you know that you are alive.

Yeah, bring it on.

This running thing is good. 

Paradiddles

Ok, so I started out on paradiddles FIVE years ago--took on their challenge, their intricacies, their variations, their potential, but tonight, all that just flew out the window and it was like I was learning those diddles all over again. I spent serious time in the chasm with my sticks, a practice pad and a metronome. I have logged countless hours on my desk at work, wearing my fingers to the bone, playing those diddles. I worked on paradiddles the other night with my taiko class. I wrote a whole FREAKIN' song based on paradiddles. And tonight? When I am faced with paradiddles? It's like it was the first time.

Well, ok, it wasn't quite like the first time. But it was like I was facing the one thing that I had thought I had already conquered, only to be shocked that when confronted by it in a new context, all that training had gone out the window. Eye-opening, it was. Just makes me realize that you can't ever rest on your laurels.

Back to the chasm for me. Just got a whole new sheet of diddle exercises I haven't seen before. This should be good.

Productive Day!

Started the day out by doing the final stretch on the drum. After soaking the head overnight I brought it in and we started cranking. I asked Janet to come help me and my student since I had a feeling she would keep on cranking after the point where I thought we should fold. We did the whole getting on top of the drum thing:

We got some really great tension on that drum. We used a different hide than I've used in the past. I think the hide was thinner. Janet said maybe it was a fatter cow. A happier cow, I replied. It was a good stretch. 

We got some major tension on that baby. Janet kept saying one more crank. And we would crank. And in my head I was thinking, ok that's good, but then Janet would say, one more crank, and we'd crank. Gotta keep those risk-takers around! I think it's gonna sound good. The tacks came out nice and straight. We did a good job. Hurrah to my student because this was her first time heading a drum!

After that was rehearsal where we worked on finishing my song. I wrote a quick and dirty ending this past week, and have been studying some solo techniques. I am happy that I don't seem to have a problem soloing in six. It feels really natural. Maze really rocks. This is not an easy song. It's in six, and the patterns are kind of strange and Steve Reich-ish. They have taken it in stride and are really grooving along. This is not the sort of song that I envisioned my first song to be. I think it's really weird, but a little funky and groovy. I am happy.

Creating the End

Wow that sounds dramatic. 

No really, I am making an ending to my song. That's one of the last things that have been nagging me (and Janet too--to finish the song! Ha ha). Today has been all about listening. Listening to my teachers. Listening to songs. Listening to myself. I composed an ending that I can live with, but there is just one more element--my solo section--that I need to face up to. I hate writing solos. Or maybe that's being dramatic too. Let's just say that the process of writing my solos is treacherous. I just make it all too hard for myself. I try to be too fancy and too complicated. I always think great solos are really mysterious and difficult, but when you get right down and listen to people's solos, they're really just simple things. There must be something in their presentation that evokes all that mystery. I have a solid base to work with. I've been working with a wonderful teacher who teaches really great things, but also a lot of her lessons are by example.

When I first learned taiko, my teacher told us to hold back on asking questions during class. She asked us to wait until the end if we had a question, and that we ought to just watch and pay attention and try to figure out the answers for ourselves. I don't insist upon this with my students, but there are moments when I wish I could divide myself; there is one part of me that wants to share and to make everything as accessible as possible, and another side of me that wants them to go through the struggle because I believe that it is in the struggle that our greatest lessons are learned. There is something about being handed an answer that is not quite as gratifying as figuring it out for yourself.

No one is going to hand me this solo. My teacher has taught me phrases, has taught me how to count and divide time, and how to put it all together so the phrases fit in time. There have been innumerable lessons in a single class. It is my job as a student to take those lessons and put them together in my mind so that in the end what I have is not just a line of music to mimic, but a real understanding of the hows and whys of that music. When you understand the how and the why, you can take it and change it and make it your own.

I guess that's what solos are. They express the culmination of all your lessons and are moments that you take all that you have learned and speak it in your own way. 

Now I just need to figure out what I am going to say.

Practice Makes Perfect

It really really does! I wish I would practice more. I wish I had more time to practice. I wish we practiced more, and I wish that everyone would see how important, and how just a little practice every day could do a person wonders. I tell my students just to practice 10 minutes a day. Some of them do, and when they do, it totally shows. Today I had them do some 8 and 8's. Those are simple, simple exercises. I was happy that they didn't seem bored. They are deceptively easy. But really, when it comes down to it, the most important sort of practice for me is just working on my chops. I can play all sorts of patterns, but if I were to play paradiddles with a really experienced player, it would be immediately apparent that my basics are in need of a lot of attention. 

Today I snuck in and diddled and rolled and 8 & 8'ed before my classes. I need a lot of work. But on the other hand, it feels really good to just get in there and work on those basics. 

Practice, yo. 

Are We Rolling?

 . . . and we're back.

Yes, I'm back. 

First off, I got roped in to re-heading a drum, (get it? Roped in? get it?). No really. One of my students asked me to show her how to re-head a drum, and of course I am honored and pleased to show someone, especially someone with her enthusiasm, how to re-head. Plus I had told Janet earlier I would re-head one of her drums, so I am killing two birds with one stone. It also inspired me to finally consolidate my notes and thoughts into a clear, concise manual of drum re-heading. Last weekend I put together my notes and photographs and the best of what I can remember into a nice moleskine journal that I loaned my student. These notes are way more clearer than the notes I got, but I cherish the notes I got so much that I never want to let them go, though I guess one of these days I need to return them. I sent my student on a scavenger hunt of sorts, asking her to get the things that we need but that I didn't feel like spending the time searching for. I'm glad she's totally into it. She actually found 100 feet of manila. So this weekend we are going to do the first stretch.  I am also happy that I get to pass on what was given to me. When Janet gave me the opportunity to head my own drum I felt like someone was giving me this huge, wonderful gift that I could never repay. But sharing the knowledge I have accumulated along the way with my student makes me feel like I am one step closer to repaying back a debt I can never really repay. 

Last Friday Janet and I pulled tacks from one of her drums. It was very cathartic, pulling tacks with her. I think it was a moment that needed to happen for me. Just the two of us quietly working together on something we both enjoy. It just kind of happened. I was like, hey, I'm here, might as well start on this now. And she was like, ok, well I'm here too, let's figure out how to get these tacks out. The last month or two have been something of an internal struggle for me, and I don't want to go into all of that, but I needed that month to mentally check out and not be around much. I was sad and disappointed about things, and I realized that I just want to play taiko and be happy about it, and I had to figure out a way to be happy with it, and I figured it out, after quite a lot of soul searching and agonizing and moping. But I'm ok now. 

So cutting and pulling rawhide this weekend.  Sharing. Contributing. Passing stuff on. This is a good, positive thing--just the direction I need to be heading in, or re-heading in. (Get it? Re-heading? Get it?)

We're also building toward a new, big show in July. Oh boy, this will be the best one yet. We're going to be doing it solo, just Maze, with original new works. And one of those new works, I am proud to say, will be composed by me. I am so close. I just need to figure out an ending to tie all the loose ends together. Oh, and compose a solo, but, eh, you know me--I can figure that out. Janet was trying to find a way to substitute people in and out of the different pieces, like they do in basketball, but looks like I am in a lot of them. I don't mind, but had to plead my case to be taken out of Mokuyobi. I don't mind playing Mokuyobi, but I've struggled with my solo for the past 5 years, and if I don't have to think about that battle, then this makes my life easier. We'll see.

What else? Had Michaelle's class tonight. It wasn't easy. But in the middle of struggling through one of the patterns she was showing us (I was the only one who totally didn't get it!) I was like, hey, I like this struggle. I am so glad someone is pushing me and giving me things that are so difficult. I feel like as a teacher I am constantly trying to find ways to make sure that people who find things easy, have something that challenge them, and those who feel challenged get the encouragement and positive feedback they need to continue. It's all a balance. Michaelle's class is really great for me because I just get to kick back and let someone else figure it all out, while I have fun and learn things.  I totally appreciate all the effort she puts in to make sure that I, as a student, get the most out of her class. And everyone else too. She is a good teacher.

Oh, and Bay to Breakers, yo! I've been training for that. I ran 5 miles yesterday! I had taken a week off because of scheduling conflicts and I am proud that I could just jump right in with a long run without much protest from my body. My mind, on the other hand, tried to come up with all sorts of excuses, but in the end my body won out. I know that if I can just get my running clothes on and run my butt to the end of the block and back again, then I'm good. And once I can run past the 30 minute mark, all the protesting my body does goes away, and either things get numb, or my body and I just get used to the idea that we're gonna sweat and keep pushing until we're done. I need to get to the 70 minute mark before I'm totally happy. I got to 50 yesterday. I have until mid-May to get there. And even if I don't, I know that I will finish that race.

So things are going better for me. Busy, busy though. 

March was for moping. April is for getting my head back on and my heart in the right place. I've been sad, but need to find a way to be happy, or I'll never be happy with myself.

Sigh. It's not as dramatic as it sounds. 

OMG, WTF

Strange thing happened tonight--I totally rocked when it was my turn to solo. Usually when I solo I get all tense and uptight and I can barely improvise, and if I do improvise, it's to save my life. But tonight in my percussion class, it was my turn to take a solo section and my hands were totally rocking, and my brain and emotions were like, OMG, WTF are you doing? And my hands were just playing these fun and totally groovy rhythms. It was tiiiight. And honestly, I can't say where it came from. I've never soloed in that groove, and it was on the conga, which I can barely play, but for some reason, I was right there.  I'm a bit surprised with myself. Actually I'm really surprised. I have to credit the teaching and structure, because Michaelle created this definite space in which to solo in, and a space for a tag that you came back to after so many bars. Not that I was counting or anything. It was more of a feel. It was really weird. I felt like I could have kept going and have fun with it.  

This is peculiar and strange. But I like it.

I Did It!

I jumped the fence, YO! Yeah, that's right! I finally got my double stroke roll to actually BE a roll. It's not entirely pretty yet, but it's definitely something new and exciting. I've been in the chasm for weeks working on this. And I did it! Yipee!!!  

Jumping the Fence

Tonight was my percussion class--hooray!!!!!! It was the absolute highlight of my week, believe me. Before we were about to start warmups, Michaelle asked what anyone wanted to work on, and I blurted out doubles!, since I've been working real hard on them on my own. I'm not usually a blurter-outer, but doubles have been a new and interesting challenge to me. In taiko, you don't really have doubles because wine-barrel taiko drums don't lend themselves to doubles. The skins are just too loose and boomy to allow your 1" stick to bounce much. You can get doubles on the shime drums though. They're tighter and more responsive. I see myself as more of a small drum player. I like the sound and dynamics of small drums, and so I've been working a lot on stick technique and, among other things, double-playing. One of the things that Michaelle does a lot when she's thinking is to play a sharp, fast double stroke roll. It is totally awesome. She'll be like, what should we play next, hmm??, and as she's thinking she'll do a roll roll roll roll! Double stroke roll. I'm always amazed.

So I've been working on my double stroke roll a lot. It's simple. You hit with the stick and there is a strike and right after that, a bounce. That's a double stroke. A lot of it is learning how to hold the stick, and then there is the bounce, and there is the control part of the bounce. It's one thing to do it with the right hand, but doing it with the left is another. Getting the left and right side to work in unison is a lifetime challenge in itself. It's all about control, and you don't get that without sitting there with your sticks and a practice pad for hours. I've been putting in those hours, but I just can't get to the point where my rolls go from kinda fast, to Michaelle-fast. I want to get there. She's got these laser-pointer eyes where you can tell that she's looking at your hands and your fingers and wrists and evaluating your sticking--all in just a moment. She had me do the double stroke roll as fast as I could and she said, uh-huh yeah, your ALMOST there, you just need to jump over the fence. I know those fences. I know that I have worked up to the point where if I just figure out that one thing, that one little thing--whatever it is--a lifting of the wrist, the caress of a finger, the push of a pinky--if I can just figure out what that tiny subtle thing is, then I'll get over that fence. I think that a big part of learning percussion goes beyond learning time, and learning patterns, but it's the tiny subtle things that no one can teach. You just need to sit there and practice over and over again until you get it. You can't really teach to someone: after you hit, clench your fingers for a millisecond and then release, and then flick your wrist and put the tension back in your fingers. It's hard. You just have to sit there until you get it.

And I am almost there. When she says you just need to get over the fence I believe it because I have tried to get over that fence many times. I am so close. Just a little bit more. 

My New Song

Just got home from presenting my new song to the rest of Maze. It's not an easy song, but they picked it up really quickly. I've been working on it for so long. It's been a source of excitement, frustration, difficulty, hope, and despair. I have felt every emotion about it, but I am happy I finally figured out things and that I finally just presented it. It's like I can move on with it now that I am mostly done working and reworking it. It's not quite done yet, but well on its way. We are gearing up for a full-length show later this summer, so I am happy that I am able to contribute something to it. Watch out for updates on the big show!!

My New Toy

I got a new toy today. It's the Edirol R09-HR. It's a gem. It is the most beautiful and functional sound recorder I have ever encountered. It records in WAV and MP3.  Now, I was a strong supporter of minidisc, but with the real-time downloading and the extra mic and battery pack, it was a pain. Not that it felt like a pain at the time, but now that the Edirol is in my life, OMG, this thing is godsend. I was going through the manual today and I realized that this thing was created with musicians in mind. All the buttons and extras are tailor-made with the idea that this thing is being used to study sound (and music). They're not just buttons that do neat tricks you'll never use, but they're neat tricks that you absolutely must have. One of those buttons on the front creates loops, so that you can listen to a piece of music, say, your teacher explaining a rhythm that she's about to play, and then she plays it, and you can create a loop so that you hear the rhythm over and over again. Stuff like that. The gadgets on this thing are not extraneous. They're not fluff. They're real-life things that you can apply to your art and career. This thing is a great investment.

I bought a 4Gig SD card ahead of time, which holds a ton of info (the new ipod shuffle that came out today is 4Gig--the whole unit is smaller than an AA battery, can hold 1,000 songs, and talks to you for godsake), and as I was messing around with the 4G card on my Edirol today, I realized that the thing holds 60 hours of recording time (depending on the recording quality). Did I not say that loud enough?? 60 hours!! A minidisc holds a mere fraction of that (I don't even remember anymore--5 or 6 hours?). The Edirol can actually accept an 8Gig card, which, if my math doesn't fail me, is 120 hours. That's days of recording time, yo!! One thing I learned in my digicam research was that while big cards are great, putting all your eggs in one basket is a gamble. But still!

Tonight I brought my Edirol to Michaelle's class, and after tweaking the settings and making some educated guesses, I set the inputs and aimed the thing at our drums and was completely amazed at the results: crystal clear sounds! Both voice and drums! If you've ever tried to record drums, then you know how difficult this is.  What I got was a great recording of our class, with the vocal explanations and the drum rhythms all recorded perfectly! Amazing!

I am such a proponent for recording drum classes because I have finally accepted the fact that I am a bit slow in the head about learning new things. You can teach me an easy pattern and I will get it, but if you ask me what it was 5 minutes later I won't be able to remember. I need help. Having something like the Edirol is so essential to my education. Thank you to the folks a Roland for creating such a fabulous learning aid. 

Wanna see it for yourself? Go here.

Juana Molina

Last Friday I went to see Juana Molina. The first time I heard Juana Molina, I completely froze in my tracks and sat there, awestruck. I felt as though I were being hit with a giant tidal wave of sound and I was completely powerless to do anything but let it take me. I was shocked. People were allowed to DO that with music?

Her music is complex and richly textured. Through the use of loops, she builds layer upon layer of sound. She often samples her own voice so that you may find yourself suddenly surrounded by her, the percussive echoes of one phrase swirling back and forth around you, while an airy melody floats overhead. She also plays guitar and keyboard, and it is amazing to witness, live and in concert, how a song is built. Last Friday she performed with a bassist and a really amazing percussionist, and a bunch of electronic equipment. I don't pretend to understand how she makes music, but she'll play a riff into her loop machine and that sound will cycle, then she'll continue on, adding another riff on a different instrument, and in that way the song keeps getting more complex. I don't know quite how she ties it all together, but it works. I am in awe. She is my new favorite performer.

She did a live set on KCRW this morning, which you can listen to here. They'll probably post the video version soon (which is almost as good as seeing her on stage). Check her out!