My first blog...dunno why, but I feel like I have an audience...maybe because of this, I will put on a mask and write only about good things...or things I did today: boring diaries of people who spend more time doing things than thinking about what they did wrong that day and why...these people are either airheads or assholes. But really, some that I've met, are really really nice, until you start asking them why? Why do you feel this way about this? Why? Who are you? Who am I?
Today, I went with Jamie to Cosanti: the place where they sell wind chimes. Every chime is different because each one is made with a different mold. It's really a nice place, and I would add an image to show everyone out there who accidently and unfortunately stumble into this (unless it was planned by me...) what a really cute place Cosanti is but the film's not developed yet...<sheesh, will I have time for this stuff??> It's like right out of a video game. But Jamie begged to differ: she said, it was more like a painting done by an artist without any sense of organization. I guess it's just me then; I like chaos.
Well, all I can do right now is give you the webpage so you can look at the bells they sell: www.cosanti.com (and why they're selling bells)
Arizona's such a great place because there are all these architectural wonders--there are no such delights back in the Bay Area. Or maybe it's just me; I like the desert. My skin will grow older faster because of the sun though (did I forget to mention I'm vain). I saw highway 202 and 101 twice today: the first with Jamie going to Cosanti. The second time with Siti, going to the Kabayao Family concert: the next topic, after I say: the freeways in AZ never fail to amaze me. The silly Native American patterns and the textures of concrete have no real architectural value, but they're still nice to look at. Not bland and boring and two-dimensional, like in the Bay Area. If I were to compare the highways there to here, AZ would be like pop rocks candy, and the Bay Area would be gum seven years stuck on cement.
Now the Kabayao Family concert!
Background: Entire family playing both the violin and piano. The leader of the family, Gilopez Kabayao made his debut at Carnegie Melon at the age of 19, and that was forty years ago. For his achievements around the world as a violinist, he got many awards: particularly the Ramon Magsaysay award (equivalent to the Nobel Peace Prize in the Philippines)
How they played, the expression, the way their arms moved with the wands of their violins. Loud, like sirens and just as sweet. Many parts made me think many things...like how classical music way back when was "pop culture" (more like for rich people, not peasants though), the same way boybands and popstar divas are today...they played their music the same way, they showed emotion, but without the help of beats and song lyrics....minor melodies became songs about depression and drugs, bittersweet ones, ones that were both sad and happy, were love songs, unrequitted, and broken dreams, and the melodies were dissonant chords and notes were stabbed into one another was pain. Wretched pain.
I thought of all the negative stereotypes associated with liking Classical music: how in movies, it always seemed like it was the evil mastermind who appreciated Beethoven and Mozart while trying to take over the world or find new ways of murdering and preparing human flesh in the most exquisite, refined way. Classical music was for the dull and boring people, the old people with their thinning curly hair and powdered faces (and there were many of them there!)...and thinking about these things made me feel lost for a moment, that I didn't belong in the world of teens because of my musical tastes...but that quickly went away. Afterall, the Kabayao sisters were only in their twenty's, and they must like Classical music to be able to play it. That's a given.
I thought of the Philippines...how I feel like I fit there more than I do here. How I share more old Filipino values, than I do American values...but it doesn't have to be this way. I don't have to feel this disconnectedness, this sense of being a stranger in a land I grew up in if I look at things a different way. A different perspective always helps. Like maybe instead of saying I won't have sex until after marriage, I could say I won't have sex with anyone I'm not sure with (in other words, until after marriage). Then it'd sound more like a personal decision, not a religious dogma. Like I want it this way, not it has to be this way. So if I say I don't belong because I'm a different person, I'm an individual, I'm the lonewolf, I'm me, then I'll feel better because it's just me and I'm happy being who I am, and I wouldn't mind not fitting anywhere because maybe that's my purpose...just floating around. But if I say I don't fit in because I'm Asian, it makes me feel bad because it seems to tell me that I could have a place to fit in: back home somewhere in Asia. But I do not fit in in Asia because I didn't grow up there and anyone from Asia would say I'm "too American." That way of thinking through things just make me feel like I'm a failure for failing to belong to a particular group. Nah, I'd rather be the individual, the lonewolf, the one of a kind, the diamond in the rough, the silver-lined sunset, the four-leafed clover. I'd rather feel like I don't belong because it's my personal choice not to.
Well, I'm pretty smart, and pretty positive (one of the benefits of maintaining a big ego). If I keep up the pace, I should stabelize and settle down when I become 20. This means, by 20, I should fully accept who I am, and I'll be happy with who I am and who I will be when I'm 30 and 40, and 50, and so on...No more hurting people because of lack of self-esteem and low self-confidence and personal insecurities and focus on inadequacies! I wanna become a healthy adult!
Next time, I should limit my blog entry to only a couple paragraphs...or maybe, I'll just write one every month (=