listen...

Have you ever sung in a crowd? a huge crowd, like a concert or a festival with thousands of people surrounding you? it doesn't matter at all how loudly you sing. you could be singing at the top of your lungs, so hard that you'll have no voice in the morning, but no matter how hard you sing you still can't hear yourself, yet the noise around you is deafening. have you ever been in that situation and looked at the people around you? it doesn't matter their age, sex, race, nationality, any of your differences. in that moment you are bonded in this music, singing together at the top of your lungs.

it kind of got me thinking, why can't the world be like that? we all have different voices, different thoughts and feelings, but if you put us together with one person singing in front of us, we will always for an unseen bond and in that moment you embrace strangers as friends you've known for years. someone you might never have noticed, and all at once you're arm and arm dancing and singing.

i never knew before why i wanted to sing. i just knew that i loved doing it, and i thought i had a pretty enough voice. but then in a concert last summer, looking around me, i realized. i wanted to be the person who created that peace. it might sound like a hippy thing to say, but i want to be that person who created that connection between strangers.

every christmas i sing with the california revels. i've been doing it for 4 years now. 4 years, about 8 shows, so that adds up to about 32+ shows plus rehearsals for months before the actual shows. all that singing, and memorizing the songs become kind of second nature. and yet, every performance, no matter what happened before, i always find myself catching my breath as we come out and the audience starts singing christmas carols with us. i remember my very first performance it was so overwhelming that i couldn't actually find the breath to sing. i just stood there. and that's why i do it year after year. that rush, the unity.

so whoever you are out there, listen. music has the power to bring strangers together, it's all around us, inside us, and all you have to do is open your mouth and sing along.

grown

what is the purpose of growing, knowing, being told "hey, welcome to adulthood!"

everyone i know denies their grown, clinging to what little piece of childhood they have left. but what is an adult? "an adult is someone who works 9 to 5, has responsibilities, pays bills on time, wears a suit, has kids, forgot how to play or imagine a different world where you walk on the sky and look up at the grass.... being grown." well shit! if that's adulthood, i want to be a child! to play on a climbing structure without looking like a pedophile, pluck daisies and tie them into a chain for my head, make up stories, play tag, go dance in the rain, wake up and save my family from a pirate attack, with nothing but a sword and my pet dragon custard (who's too scared to fight back) to dream the impossible!!

but if growing up is something that i have to do, i suppose that's fine. just as long as i can be the adult who believes in fairies and thinking of 15 ridiculous things every day and HAPPY ENDINGS!! that someday a boy in green might fly in my window and take me to a land where everything is pretend. where music is law and laughter really is the best medicine, and every bump can be fixed by a kiss on it from mom...

so you go ahead and grow up, get boring and old; but as for me? i'll be out somewhere beyond the sea, in a golden ship sailing off on a dream.

Oberlin: Day 1

Oberlin is very small. everyone told me that, but i didnt really think it would be this small! i mean, it's relatively normal sized for a town in the 1950's or something (which is about as modern as the architecture gets too) and not much has changed since then. there's the same old vintage movie theater, old buildings, "downtown" shops, etc. it's kind of an odd mixture, because the college is in the middle of the town and is a mash of old or retro and new/modern buildings. it's one of those funny little towns where everyone seems to be so bored with the ordinary people they see every day that if you're new they will talk your ear off. literally. driving into town i got that going-to-visit-grandma feeling. you know what i mean? how it seems like no matter how many years go by, everything will be the same and stay that way. tradition! the bed and breakfast i'm staying in even has that grandma's house smell.

it's definitely the house of a collector. there are thousands of pig figures (who knows why, havent asked for fear of never leaving) tea pots, and clocks. i feel like i flew out of san francisco and landed in Alice in Wonderland. the clocks especially annoy me. purely because they are all those loud old tick-y ones that chime on the hour and half hour (2 even chime on the 15 and 45) BUT because they all chime and "sound so beautiful" they're all set at about 2 minutes apart. so one chime say for 5 o'clock could last 15 minutes, at which point it's time for the next set of chimes to start. i was sitting in the living room after class today and seriously counted 8 clocks. JUST IN THE LIVING ROOM!!!!!! the couple who own the house are nice though. definitely those talk your ear off folk, but nice. and they live 2 blocks from the school, which is very nice. (when i say they live 2 blocks away, just bare in mind that i believe the farthest away one can live is 5 blocks away. so it's not like you're gonna need a car to drive to class or anything.)

On that note, i had my first, and only, class of the day. it was a lot of fun actually, and pulled me out of my i-dont-like-this-small-town funk a bit. it was a class with all the students from a voice teacher, lorraine manz. all of the females who sang were mezzo soprano's, but most had an amazing, pure tone. there was only one girl who had a bit too much tremolo and was a bit flat, but i learned after class that she was sick with a bad cold. as a coloratura soprano, i was wondering most of the class what i would sound like if i studied with her, or if she just took mezzo's. she had a few tenors as well, and it was fun listening to the difference in tone between the men and women.

they are (all the students i've met or watched) are very intense about their art though. almost everything they talk about has to do with pronunciation, diction, beats per measure, tone, pitch, what one teacher says versus another on a certain piece, etc. it was nice to see a bit of a change for a few minutes before class when one boy started playing some jazz and a girl started swaying back and forth to the music, and another group started laughing hysterically at a SNL video of Lonely Island they were watching on someone's laptop. it was a good change of pace, and helped me see that they aren't just business and one track. i mean, they're still unbelievably focused, which is intimidating, but they're also juniors and seniors, and i would be a freshman.... so maybe the intensity comes with time and practice? i dont know.

anyway, more later.

Walls

you know how people say things like "sometimes i put up walls. not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to tear them down"? well, ok, great. excellent statement. except, what happens when someone does tear that protective wall down and then you're just left there all wall-less and scared and they decide they dont really want to be the one to climb that pile of rubble? (like how i'm just going with the metaphor thing here?) does that basically mean you're screwed? no one ever writes about that so much. just something to think about i guess.

I was reading an article i randomly found, and apparently there's a wall in Verona, Italy where people write letters about their problems (like the broken wall thing) to Romeo and Juliet. That's the picture. thought i should explain it.

sorry this one's kinda depressing. what can i say? rainy days and monday's always get me down. you should be around on a rainy monday. it's all bad. lol

parental advisory

it's funny how parts of your life can gradually come to an end and you have absolutely no idea it's happening until the next chapter is beginning. I feel like a huge part of who i was has recently fallen away. not to say that i've lost who i am, just to say that i've changed (hopefully for the better) and i've sort of begun on the part of my life journey (jeez! hippy enough for ya?!) that is MY part. just me. on my own. it's exciting! i mean, scary and nerve wracking, yes. but exciting.

I've been lucky enough to have parents that will basically support my decision and choices no matter what (except for getting a tattoo. lame) but when i told them i wanted to do an exchange for 3 months to germany in my sophomore year of high school, they happily let me go. when i said i wanted to go back to germany and study for my senior year they helped make it happen. when i said i wanted to be a singer they helped me find the perfect schools for me. they have always been supportive of my adventures i wanted to take, whether those adventures involved them or not. don't get me wrong. just because i say i have amazing parents doesn't mean we don't fight and disagree and get on each other's nerves. that's a 24/7 battle if you ask me. but that's not the point, is it?

So in a sense, i guess i've been "flying the nest" and coming back for a few years now. testing my wings, so to speak. but now, in a manner of short months, i'll be going out alone and this is the beginning of the rest of my flight alone. i mean, they'll always be there if i need them, but i really have to figure out how to live and be on my own. no help (other than, you know, tuition and rent and all that financial goodness)

Honestly though, that's all you get, as a parent. 18 short years to give your kid everything you think they need to get by in the world. 18 years to teach them right from wrong, to help them grow, to raise them. 18 years, then they're gone. not forever, just gone to start their own life. maybe to create their own person to teach for 18 years. but really, you have very little time to instill this great wisdom that you, as parents, are supposed to have. half of the time, teaching without even knowing it.

i guess what i'm trying to say is thank you. thank you to every good, wonderful, amazing parent that has raised their child to the best of their ability. i think the hardest thing is knowing when to stop teaching and helping and let us make our own mistakes. i mean, you'll always be there if we really need you, but when to pull back and let us be.

so thank you. thank you for all the hard work, energy, love, everything you've given.

i love you.

Happiness is a Warm Gun....

I have this weird thing about lady bugs. somewhere someone told me that whenever you see a lady bug the person you like/love is thinking of you. maybe it's a myth? like the indians believe that when you sneeze somebody's thinking of you?
anyway, recently i've been seeing lady bugs EVERYWHERE. i have no idea

what it's supposed to mean, but they're one of those things in life where every time i see one i have to smile. regardless of my mood.

For me, this is a big deal. there are very few things in my life that can always make me smile and make me happy again regardless of my previous mood. in fact, i think i can list them all on one hand. kind of depressing, right? but i was thinking about it... hang on,

1. ladybugs

2. joshua radin ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etNiF21uUZE&feature=related -- don't look at the emo cartoon people.)

3. playing my guitar

4. dancing

yup. see, i told you. not even 5. but there you go. i don't even know why Joshua Radin is on the list. i mean, his music does always make me smile, but if you listen to the lyrics they're borderline emo.... oh well.

and for those of you who are wondering why things like "family", "friends" and "singing" aren't on the list, well, it's simply because friends and especially (my) family arent always fun to be around. they dont always make you smile. and singing, as much as i love it, it makes me really mad half the time. especially when i'm practicing. dont get me wrong. i love my family, friends and singing! just not all the time. =)

תיקון עולם

Incubus

"Love hurts, but sometimes it's a good hurt, and it feels like i'm alive"- Incubus

What is a good hurt? from what i can tell there really isn't any plus side to hurting. i mean, they call it "hurt" for a reason, right? i guess you could build up a fair argument saying that people who are into dominatrix S&M stuff hurt, but to them it feels good.... if you really wanted to.

what i think Incubus should have said is that yes, love hurts. sometimes falling in love hurts. but if you're not prepared to hurt and bare your heart to the world and look like an idiot, you shouldn't jump.

2010 Valentine's post mortem

i hate valentine's day. legit hate it. i believe that it is the stupidest holiday ever to be created. (well, maybe not ever, i mean, arbor day? come on.) but seriously. it's up there.

think about it. if you're in a relationship this one day puts so much pressure on you, and if you're single you end up feeling like crap and wondering why it is that you're alone when everyone around you seems so happy and in love. honestly though, why should february 14th be any different than any other day?

Couples: if you're happy, that's all that matters. you dont need fancy dinners, movies, flowers, or candy to prove that. and honestly, you are the biggest douche ever if you propose on valentine's day.

Singles: i honestly believe that there is the right person out there for everyone. i know it sounds corny and like something out of a bad romantic comedy or something. but i truely believe that there is someone for everyone.

we as girls grow up with so many skrewed up idols for relationships. i mean, my favorites were all the princesses i read about in my fairy tales. they always got their prince in the end and it seemed so easy. grow hair long, he'll find you. fall asleep, he'll find you. almost marry someone else cause you think he's dead, he'll find you. rescue her from a dragon while trying to get your swamp back, she'll kick ass in martial arts. any way you looked at it they always ended up "happily ever after"

i guess what i'm trying to say is that love can't be forced. so why do we try to force it every year with this holiday? just think about it. i started a new tradition this year, one that i hope to continue. the day after valentines (or a few days after) i went out and got 10 red roses nad wrote a letter on each one saying "sorry this is late, but somewhere out there someone loves you and thinks you're amazing. happy late valentine's day." yes. once again, corny. but think about it. imagine those faces as they open their door and see that rose. maybe it'll make their day a little better. maybe it'll give them the courage to say what's in their heart. either way it doesn't do any harm, and how could it possibly end badly? try it sometime. try paying it forward. one day that love will come back to you, and if it already has, you're luckier than you know.

~K

ok, there's my corny quote filled for a while. =)

No. i did not do the "be still" artwork. ha! i wish. i found it online through a friend, and it was such a perfect picture of my daily brain activity and thought that i decided to use it. thanks to the artist, whoever you are.

Watsky

i started writing about 4 months ago now. i mean really writing. not assigned school stuff, or "dear diary, guess what happened to me today" shit. i guess in a way it was my way of getting stuff out in my own kind of twisted "dear diary" way.

i suppose it started when i found this guy, george watsky. i dont mean i *found him* like finding jesus or something. i mean, i was just bored one night so i youtubed local poets, and he showed up. i've been kind of in awe with slam poetry ever since. not simply because they go up on stage without a clue of what the next line will be, just making it up on the spot, but because they are SO honest. people say that lyricists are honest and say the words we the listeners are too scared to say out loud. and i guess that's true to a certain point of some lyric writers. but so many of them now just write inside the box of relationship-troubles, i'm-in-love-with-you, partying, whatever lyrics. seriously, if i hear another line in a song about how "my heart is yours" or some shit like that i'll scream. would it kill people to be original and out of the box?!

anyway, back to george. he wrote this poem called the "V club" i think it's called? but it's basically about how he was a loser virgin in high school, but he didnt care. that it made him who he is today, and how even though no girl wanted to sleep with him or date him he still felt sexy and being true to himself. i mean, seriously!? i know tones of guys like that, but not many who would admit to it. it takes serious balls to write the truth. i guess that was my point. i get side tracked easily. like "hey, so there's this awesome poet who is amazing. check it ou..... ooooh! bunny!!!" it's a little ridiculous. whatever.

that's it for now. check him out. seriously. he's amazing. talks a little funny, but you'll get used to it...

out.

the best policy?

I understand now what people say when they say two places at different times. Just because you love someone and they love you doesn't mean it will work. It doesn't always mean it wont either, it just isn't a guarantee. you know? and no matter how much you might love that person and how much you want things to work, it doesn't always. you cant always get what you want. square peg, round hole, two different places, all that... people say if you love someone let them go, but what about you? that means they get to go fly and what, you just stay there stuck? i think it should be the other way around. if you love someone, then let yourself go. i think it just means being honest. honest to yourself, honest to the other person. not necessarily letting yourself go meaning jump in, no thought or questions. just dont hide who you are to make them like you more. you are who you are, and if they dont like that, then are they really the right person for you? honesty sometimes hurts, but at least you'll know you were being true to who you are, and not putting yourself in a box of what they wanted you to be.

Untitled

I wrote this one a while ago. you may have already read it. you may not. but here it is either way. =)

Untitled

“Damn girl! You must be wearing space pants, cause your ass is out of this world!”

… Well thanks Mr. Creepy Berkeley man, I guess.

Cause after years of having guys stare at my ass and my chest

Instead of my face and my eyes I have no energy left to give up protest.

Girls don’t walk down the street saying “damn boy! Nice cock.”

So what gives you the right to treat US like livestock?

A man who bangs 2 chicks the same night, he gets a high five and “Score!”

But if a girl dates two guys at the same time people call her a whore.

Poor girls waiting, searching all life long for Mr. Right

When all the guy’s want to be is Mr. Just-for-tonight

And sometimes I wonder, are happy endings for real?

Or just another fictitious lie the population conceals?

Little girls dressing up, messing up, fessing up, writing his name

In notebooks with hearts then getting the blame

For not being a good girlfriend, when he was the one

Who “accidently” kissed that girl at the party cause he thought it was fun.

So then next time I walk down the street and some guy says “nice butt”

I’ll turn around and say “Hey ass hole! Sit down and shut up!

“I am beautiful, but how the hell would you know that

When you first judge girls’ hotness on weather they’re skinny or fat.

You kiss your mama with that mouth?

Or does she even know you say stuff like that?

When 50 years ago she had to put up with the very same crap

From guys just like you, with no balls and a loud voice

So take a second, think about it, and make the right choice.”