Inspired simultaneously and erratically by the blog thoughts of both Stanley Lee and Ned Rorem.

Jun 27, 2007

Yes, I'm updating. Get over it.

Contrary to popular belief, my blogging draught isn't any implicative reflection on any drastically mortifying status-change in my life - some months I just get lazy. That being said; for the first time in quite awhile, I feel happy these days. Not to sound like a penis-less fairyqueen or some post-modern Manhattan psychologist that sings Kumbaya on an 87-dollar church-donated guitar; but really. Me happy.

So what's happened in the last few months? Hmmm....

Well, Rostropovich died. Normally, I'd be wrought with a burning trigger-happy-blog to compose some sort of fitting elegiaque post-mortem but the dude died so long ago it seems. And at that, how to verbalize or wordify anything non-trite regarding the greatest cellist to walk the planet? Suffice it to say just that.

I went to jail for a night. For a suspended drivers license I didn't know about. Sadly, there's not much more to the story than that - it's more of a ha-ha than an "omg", but in light of my criminal history, ha-ha's are a preferred alternative.

Juilliard is starting to look like the ambient collateral damage from a 1930's Hemingway novel.

The election approaches. Obama or Hillary. Obama or Hillary. Why is it that there is an 'antithetical' but no 'thetical?' Adjectivized words from root nouns confuse me. There's an antecedent, but no cedent - wouldn't the 'cedent' be the current? There's a progress, but no congress. ha!

Sarasota, Florida. Robert Levin: the point at which charisma violently intersects with intelligence to produce the epitomized dickweed. Why must the two consistently clash? Pamela Frank: the beginning, it seems, of an effort to homogenize impeccable musicianship into an all-powerful surname. Though I feel drastic in saying such a thing, if you don't like her - you're probably a bad musician.

In other news, some long deserved congratulations are overdue. Congratulations of course to Wei Yu, on his new appointment to the cello section of New York Philharmonic. Congratulations and good luck to David Kim, on his ability to pack his bags and leave us all in search of truth, greatness, and the holy grail of viola. And to Yura Lee, for the Avery Fisher grant - that's actually kind of gangster.

Back from the Hamptons today. Leaving for California on Monday. Holla.

Oct 13, 2006

This is probably the longest duration of time that I've gone blog-dry - my apologies y'all. My intrinsic creativity suffered this impassable aridity, psychologically drained from international travel, ridiculous consumption of octopus and red wine, and 26 credits of futile garbage work for mongoloid-geared classes.

Spain: a forced learning experience, I suppose. Most of you already know I had a rough summer. Thanks to everyone who has shown concern regarding my well-being, but really; I'm fine.

The female gender imparts me with this quasi-revisionist perspective of hopelessly engendered distrust a la Howard Zinn on history, but then, what else is new?

The racial divide these days materializes itself like a culturally permanent rift, the uncircumnavigatable kind where the caucasian friends of mine I see initially as spies and moles for the other side.

"Those nymphs - I want to make them permanent." - Stephane Mallarme

Permanency, though, is just an impermanent hedonistic desire that disappears with great pasta, beautiful music, and a bottle of Majorska with a few good homeboys.

"How do I pronounce this anger? They mispronounce my pain." -Asian American X

Aug 20, 2006

Hola! Estoy blogando de Espana! Buenos Noches!

Jul 30, 2006

The productive alcoholic - like the early bird, but one who doesn't catch any worms.

Girls confuse me somewhat, but only to the extent at which confusion palpably encounters expectation; like a speeding Civic on a treadmill whose gas stays on when the machine turns off.

Jul 18, 2006

Asian boys and girls.

Cultural phenomenons rarely appear so tangibly bi-coastal, yet these days, it's getting more complex to self-materialize a lucid distinction between the Asian I am and the Asian I was. I come back to the West coast, and suddenly I'm this big pussy cuz I stand funny at a fucking phone booth. (Fuck you guys) The coastal differences between Asians living on the two coasts engender themselves in ways I guess I never fully realized. I never thought I had changed that much. But I guess I have.

Asian girls on the east coast, and the white boy:
This phenomenon will never change. I truly believe it. I don't have to write much on it, because I know everybody reading this has their own opinions. So I'll get right to the point.

Asian girls on the east coast will always go for the white boy. The more busted, the better. If he's unsuccesful, that's awesome. That makes him more attractive. If he's ugly, he's perfect. If he smells like body odor from a diseased scavenger, he's God. As long as he's got white skin.

As I've said time and time before: a tall, good looking, church-going, successful, rich Asian boy will always lose to his white counterpart: rude, ugly, foul-smelling, unsuccessful, lazy, ridden with a yellow-fever fetish.

Such is our life. Or mine.

Every girl I've ever dated, every girl I've ever hooked up with, every girl I've ever liked: is now interested or dating some fucking busted white boy. Is this a coincidence? Is it my fault? Am I a victim of culture? Do I perpetuate the racial divide? Am I just unlucky? Or are Asian girls just bitches?....for the time being, I'll be safe, and assume the latter.

Many Asian girls will tell you it's because they want a "real man". That Asian boys are pussies, and we're shy and timid. We don't approach them.

To this I say: suck a dick, bitch. Anybody who knows me or any of my friends know that I am not a fucking pussy. And neither are any of my Asian friends. Your lame ass excuses don't work.

I know this dude named Eugene. Very good friend of mine. He's pretty much the perfect Korean guy: he gets along with the boys, he's one of the chillest guys I know, he's in the No. 2 Med school about to become a doctor, he's good looking, he speaks fluent Korean, he gets along with both whities and asians, he goes to church, and parents love him. And he drinks like a fucking fish.

Ask him sometime how long it's been since he's had a girl. Or on that note, how many girls he's had in his lifetime.

In college, he and his roommate Dave used to have this Nike sign on their bedroom door. The plan was to turn it upside down when the other was in the room with a girl. I came to visit once in April (near the end of the school year), and I took down the Nike sign. There was a dust imprint left of the Nike logo on their door - it hadn't been moved in so long.

Now do another test. Go up to any random ass fucking white dude at Juilliard; in fact, the uglier the better. Pick the ugliest white dude you can find. Ask him how long it's been since he's been with an Asian girl.
If he doesn't say something along the lines of, "oh a week ago", or "I'm actually with one right now", I'll eat my own feces, for sure. I'll eat every one of those nasty ass Salmon roe eggs, no joke. I'll run through the security terminal at JFK, no doubt. I'll learn yoga, bend over, and suck my own dick; without question.

At any rate, I digress.

True story: Just yesterday I was having coffee at Starbucks with my good friend Geoff. We were talking about this complex phenomenon in huge detail. Basically, we were patting each other on the back and rubbing each others shoulders. Out of the blue walks by the most gorgeous Korean girl you've ever seen in your life. She looks like she came straight out of heaven - it was one of those moments where on TV, it would have shot to complete slow motion and a cheese-ridden soundtrack. And as if to add the one-two punch, right beside her, hand in hand, stood the ugliest white guy you've ever seen.

We got a whiff of his B.O when he walked by.
As many of you know, this has been one of the longest weeks of my life. But it's over, and at that, time to get back to work.

As I seem to be gaining already a significantly notorious reputation for colleague-plagiarism: "this weekend felt like one of those dreams where you revisit high school or college and nothing has changed." (Stanley Lee) But on the real, there's no better way to put it. Every so often, the poetic pansy inside all of us grabs a particular vein of nostalgic intensity, and I think this last weekend served as a reminder that college (and for me, that means my FIRST undergrad) will always be the most memorable. Where we learned to be who we'll be for the rest of our lives.

I feel at home.

Thank you: jeff/stan/jerome/steve/ryan/jm/jerry/dave/geoff/eugene/alex/alex/allen/garrick/jaakko/jimmy/anwar/steve/kevin

Whether you knew it or not, you boys were all there when I needed you most.

Jul 9, 2006

Sorry about the blogging drought. I've had virtually no internet access in the hamptons. In NYC now, leaving for Santa Barbara tomorrow, then Palo Alto for the wedding. Hit me up if you're in town.

Jun 9, 2006

In California now, leaving for Vegas tomorrow morning, back to NYC on Sunday, and on to the Hamptons by Wednesday. Hit me up.

"With soldier Josh protecting me from enemies abroad and lawyer Drew defending me in the courtroom, when and if I have, in a paroxysm of pedagogical enthusiasm, murdered one of my students, I'll feel beautifully carefree."

-Jerome Lowenthal, my teacher.

May 19, 2006

An hour ago, I finished my first year (of 29 or so remaining years) at Juilliard. Never have I so palpably encountered such a tangible definition of "busy." Apologies for the blogging drought - I hope to be better in the coming months.

On a side note:

Congratulations to Stanley Lee, on his recent graduation from graduate school.
Congratulations to Earl Lee, on his recent appointment as the newest member of the prestigious conductorless ensemble, the Sejong Soloists.
Congratulations to Kyle Armbrust, on his recent appointment to the A Sublist of the Philadelphia Orchestra.
Congratulations and good luck to Gilles VonSattel, on making the finals of the Dublin International Piano Competition

Apr 3, 2006

For those who don't yet know:

Congratulations so my long(est) time homeboy, Jerry, on his recent acceptance to Yale Law School. Rekhanize!

Mar 21, 2006

You Harvardites crack me up. The following is an email reply to a rejection letter sent by friend Wei-jen.

---Original Message---
From: Resume
Sent: Wednesday, March 15, 2006 4:21pm
To: wjyuan@fas.harvard.edu
Subject: Trade Associate Follow-up

Thank you for your interest in the Trade Associate opportunity with Company X. Unfortunately, we are unable to extend an interview to you at this time, but we will keep your resume on file for future consideration. Best of luck in your career endeavors.
*********************************************

Dear Company X,

Thank you for your extremely prompt reply. I will, however, politely decline your decision to deny me an interview, as this best suits my career path at this moment. Additionally, I have a question about your policy for future consideration: I find it hard to believe that a firm as prestigious and as well known as yours would reconsider an applicant that you've already previously denied. Does Company X actually reconsider applicants in the future or is this just a cheap tagline that you use to soften the life-shattering reality of an interview decline? As you may know, mastering the art of interviewing is a developmental and incremental process that I look forward to. Not only do I enjoy meeting new company recruiters, but I also enjoy practicing my interviewing skills. Thus, to me, the joys of interviewing are as pleasurable as a wet fart. I would love to better understand the rather superficial cordial exchanges in the business world, such as those in your email, as I am only an outside observer of the finance world with non-applicable and non-demanded musical skills; so as to better acquaint myself with the colloquialism of the business world in the near future. Thank you for your time and consideration and I look forward to hearing back from you!

Best,

Wei-Jen Yuan

Mar 12, 2006

I quit poker. For a long time. The ups and downs are too much on my emotional system. I feel like a war-of-attrition-torn embittered soldier emerging from the groggy bomb-ridden trenches, having barely survived off a hard-boiled egg on top of salt-covered spam for three days. And pocket aces? Fuck that hand.

On a funnier note, I came across the funniest break-up note today I've ever read. Thanks Vicky for the plug.

Brad,

- It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am trulytruly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all for anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say all of us had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you being pissed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking that you see me as a different person.
- It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or something. The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just feel beyond crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a significant role in my life, I can't imagine my days without you.
- It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can say or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know that fighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it. I am not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that you won't. If not today, then maybe some other time.
- Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled for them that would be great. I can't even focus or work today, I can't eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please don't cut me off, I really don't think I can handle that. I am so sorry.

-Elizabeth

RESPONSE

Dear Elizabeth,
- Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to file it away under "L" for "Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about".You did a stupid thing huh? No...doing long division and forgetting to carry the one is "a stupid thing"; Mixing in a red sock with a load of whites is "a stupid thing"; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45 minutes while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you ate too much bran that morning isn't as much a "stupid thing" as it is grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar.
- To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour span, or that you seemed to think that by saying "Well, I didn't F**k him" somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care less if the world "looked funny" to you yesterday. Since your world revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they just think you're the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blond who commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I could be wrong but, it's pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes out to spend the night at my place even though she'sseeing someone else in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint ofanyone who decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell's new haircut is worth putting up with for a hand jobin the men's room. The good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last saturday, we'll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it happened.
- By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do. Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.

PS. I forwarded about 100 people on this email.

Talk to you never,
Brad

Mar 3, 2006

In South Carolina now - the wealthy haven of alligator-infested golf courses, where the definition of 'diversity' is limited to bragging about a community that includes a Jew and a Bulgarian lesbian, both of whom are treated like the 3-legged lepers from the un-cool sorority.

I know I haven't been up to date with my blogging, and to those of you who have no idea what's going on in my life, I apologize. Nothing much has changed, though my ridiculous obsession with karaoke has been passionately replaced by the game of poker - yes, I am already an official member of the All-In poker club, the shady 1-2 tables down on 38th St. Rekhanize.

I seem to have faint recollections about a million subjects I wanted to write about but unfortunately, none of them come to mind. I'll update later.

Feb 3, 2006

To Louisville in the morning...the exoticism never ends.

Dec 31, 2005

On a side note, congratulations to my homeboys Steve and Allan on their recent engagements (read plural and no, not to each other).
In California now, about to leave for New York City in a few hours.

With a blog, the constant literary tone is primarily some sort of super-biased dissection of obvious cultural phenomenons - or at least, obvious to me. I feel like a blog is the dumbass's intellectualizing method of recreating a culture into some quasi-existentialist novel a la "The Stranger". Visiting (and it's weird to use that word now about California) California always saturates my entire Camusian side to the point of hopeless exasperation. Why.

On the East Coast, I always forget that the AZN is somewhat of a foreign novelty (though, novelty in a strictly neutral connotation). Some Asian-American male in New York City walking around decked out in Armani Exchange/Banana Republic, sporting a zero-fade, with one earing, driving some slammed '98 Integra with 17' rims is not only rare, but to the East Coasties, intriguing.

In California? It's gross. I just got back from Dave and Buster's in Milpitas and made quite the depressing realization: I look different at Juilliard but in Cali? Holy shit I look like every single guy here. No wonder - on the East Coast, when a Californian Asian-American male has migrated to New York City, I can smell it a mile away. As much as all of us try and reject the immaturity of the AZN culture in California, it takes a migration to the East Coast to realize - you can take the boy out of California, but you really really can't take the California out of the boy.

It's just not possible.

Dec 6, 2005

News.

Most of you know the reason for my blogging drought - my apologies; I'm at school from morning to night.

A good friend of mine recently came out of the closet, as a lot of you know by now - much love and respect, homes. Bravest thing I've ever seen anybody do.

For any of you around the east coast on Christmas Eve, please hit me up. We'll be spending it in New Haven, CT. For any of you around the west coast on Christmas Day, please hit me up. We'll be spending it in Palo Alto, CA. This marks a particularly emotional Christmas Eve, as one of my closest friends will be permanently leaving the country to take on a job in Santiago, Chile. Much love.

For some reason, I don't have much to write about these days. Is Juilliard stealing away my creativity?

Nov 15, 2005

Leaving for San Angelo, Texas in a few hours. Mmmm....EXOTIC.

Nov 4, 2005

Manhattan and classical music: Like the histrionic dwelling of an intangibly emotion-saturated sport; where the overwrought performers of the insane former fit into the latter, tighter than a crab to a shell.

Juilliard: an eerily sanitary-looking madhouse where reputation unabashedly contorts reality like an adulterated media story.

Schubert B-flat: a halo in the midst of hellish insanity - like a hidden trap door to daylight in the middle of a dark serpent-reptile-animal chase from a good Indiana Jones movie.

New Haven: see above.

Nov 3, 2005

David Dubal.

So much hype surrounding this colossal giant; the legendary foremost scholar of piano history - having now spent a considerable time with him, the figure is larger than life. Cynical, arrogant, haughty, cocky, pessimistic, insulting, racist, offensive, and otherwise rude - and without a doubt, next to Lowenthal, the single most brilliant intellectual I've met at Juilliard.

A lot of people are put off by Dubal - understandably; aside from being prone to making gigantic generalizations and insulting statements ("Schubert had no idea what he was doing" "All old men over the age of 70 should be required to get botox"), Dubal is downright rude. A lot of people are automatically put off by a cocky know-it-all; without ever really getting know if he actually knows it all or not. Most assume that he doesn't. Well....Dubal knows it all.

Today was the fourth time I played for his evening division audience of rich, octogenerian socialites - the most supportive audience I've ever played for. Next to me, an 80-year old woman whispers "I hate this guy! He's such a dumb asshole! I only come for the piano playing!".
Heh. Woman; you're in the presence of genius and you don't even know it.

Oct 14, 2005

Talent.

Most of you who are close to me already know of my ridiculously almost-psychopathic obsession with "talent" - the eclectically diverse genre that encompasses any sort of physical or mental field. This is just a list of my obscure personal talent searches from the last 6 or 7 years.

Classical music - obviously this is a big one, so I put it first. Most of my obsession with talent in classical music has been limited to the objective; namely, technique. Since artistry is so completely subjective, it's hard to find a universal common ground that stretches past the pure physical. The examples of these clips are endless - Cziffra's Flight of the Bumblebee in octaves, Mihai's Elfentanz, Martha Argarich's everything, etc. etc. Most of you wouldn't give a fuck about this kinda stuff anyway...so let's move on.

Internet clips of ridiculous shit - this is a huge one, particularly amongst the file-transfer link-sending world of AIM. There have been so many ridiculous clips passed around the internet, it's hard to remember them all. Here a few of the best in my memory: the crazy cup-stacking girl (a girl who stacks and unstacks plastic cups at lightning speed), the stick-figure flash Matrix kung-fu clip, the guy who beats Mario 3 in less than 11 minutes, the nerdy-looking popper who almost emulated Michael Jackson, the Japanese kid that DDR's Fantasy Impromptu, N'Chink - the list goes on and on.

Dance videos - also a popular one. Come over sometime and see the world championships of breakdancing, or the ridiculous poppers, or the old school Michael Jackson videos like Thriller, or the live performances by Yoo-Seung Joon - they are ridiculous. You're either born that shit, or you're not.

American Idol - I understand that this one is relatively cliche and particularly looked-down-on amongst the 'intelligent' public who believe that the show is retarded (which it is). The talent, however, that goes through that show is unbelievable - come over sometime and watch Kelly Clarkson's Natural Woman, or Bo Bice's acapella blues song; don't be a snob. Ignore the judges, ignore that little metrosexual flamer Ryan Seacrest, and stay for the talent. You won't be disappointed.

Whose Line Is It Anyway - this has been a long huge obsession of mine. Aside from being the single craziest improv show I've ever seen, the three regulars on the American version of this show have more talent, it seems, than they can even handle. If you have never seen this show, ask me to send you the craziest clips of Wayne Brady singing Michael Jackson as he gets older, or Ryan and Colin doing a makeshift improv on a film-noir scene. The brains on this show work faster in humor than is even imaginable.

Chess - very few of you know this side of me, particularly because very few of you know how to really play chess. Well....it's time to learn. It is the single most exhilirating board game in the history of history - ask me to send you games of old school Bobby Fisher playing 60 grandmasters at once (and beating them all), or of the famous game between Kasparov and IBM's Deep Blue. Hit me up - we'll play online.

Freestyle rap - everybody listens to rap, obviously. But freestyle is a genre that the mass public doesn't usually get to see all that often. A lot of people were introduced to it by 8 Mile (which is actually a really good introduction), but if you're more curious, IM either me or Stanley to send you some cool shit - particularly, Eminem's underground album "Psycho", or Jin's 7-week stunt on BET when he destroyed everybody, or Immortal Technique's freeflow tracks.

Martial Arts - this obsession definitely started in college when I met Stanley. Today, everybody is accustomed to one or two Jackie Chan or Jet Li films....a lot of you know who Bruce Lee is, without ever having seen any of his movies. If you're ever interested, expand your mind and ask me (or Stan) for some Thai Kickboxing madness in Ong Bak, or Jet Li's old school phase in the Once Upon a Time in China series.

There's a lot more - I guess this is just a small introduction to my obsessive nature. Any of you who know me well already know all this. If you're ever curious, hit me up.

Oct 13, 2005

Finding a practice room at Juilliard during the mid-afternoon is like trying to find a parking space at UC Berkeley.

For those of you in the NYC area, a few of us pianists are doing a little showcase this Saturday night at 6pm (Oct. 15) at Steinway Hall (across the street from Carnegie, for those of you non-pianists).

Sep 30, 2005

If you haven't already, please read Myung's "Nice White Lady" post on his blog: www.myung.org.

“Helping others is a privilege that brings great pleasure.”

Sep 27, 2005

I'm gonna be in Washington, DC this weekend for any of you who might happen to be in the area. Kennedy Center and 100 pianos - here we come.
I was also just recently informed that Pamela Frank has read my blog - specifically, the chapter about piano technique. And she agreed with me 100%.

I caused a whole fury of fire with that post it seems, particularly amongst the religious poets for pianists out there. It just struck me again today in Piano Topics class. We took apart a piano, and one key has over 100 moving parts to it, every time you hit a note. When you hit a note, it triggers another piece of wood that triggers another piece of wood that lifts a damper, triggering another piece of wood that hits a piece of metal, unlocking another piece of wood, and finally, lifting a hammer that hits a string.

A friend commented to me (in response to this blog post) that what I was saying could not be possible - "just try" she said. "Try and hit your finger against a piece of wood in a harsh way, then try it agian in a fatter way. You'll hear a difference."

In response to her: Yes, you're right. But when you hit a piece of wood with your finger, you have direct contact with the instrument that is producing noise, much unlike a piano where you must go through 100 intermediary steps before the noise is even produced. Not only that, but once you hit the hammer, you have no control of it - whether you like it or not, that hammer goes back down immediately, no matter what touch you use.
The first few weeks of New York City.

I know. I haven't updated in awhile. Sorry. So much to say, so little time - I'll go with preliminary observations on the life of a Juilliardite in New York City.

I guess it's safe to say that my transitionary phase to Juilliard has been relatively painless; socially and sufficiently initiated by an estrogen-saturated crew of ridiculously rowdy women - a handful of asian girls, a sarcastic/hilarious Venezuelan pessimist and her deep-south former-redneck counterpart. All in all, a wholesome crowd. Unlike my brutal cross-country chapter switch to Yale, Juilliard seems to fit; albeit I have yet to find neither close friends nor a clique of homeboys.

The school is still this enigmatic vortex of contradictory stereotypes bolstered by a slew of the formulaic brand of freaks, psychopaths, people who take themselves too seriously, anorexic dancers, loud actors, fobby-giggling asian girls, and the like. But this, of course, is nothing unexpected. The "jail-yard" name has never been so tangible; it's palpability engendering itself like a wet dream in the middle of an angry nightmare - "You're in New York City now," says my ear-training teacher, yet I never leave this gigantic concrete plaza, and when I do, it's straight through a surreal tunnel that leads me to an ulterior universe filled with domino-playing thugs and sweet-potato pie.

My classes, for those I haven't bitched to yet, is this retrograde reality in which I seem to be stuck. Now that I'm 23, I'm filled in classes with 17-year old little asian girls; the ones that are experiencing the joys (and puking pains) of alcohol for the first time. They even giggle in unison it seems. But further than that, my classes are generally hell purely because there are 9 of them. Yes. 9 of them.

On a good day, I am sure I can survive. Sometimes it seems ok to be at school from 8am to Midnight. As with any new festival or school, I'm spending lots of time alone, which is good and different for me. A good majority of the day I spend smoking by myself, eating by myself, practicing in solitary confinement, and generally thinking, breathing, and living music. And I guess, this is all worth it.

Aug 29, 2005

carlos.avila@yale.edu is no longer in service. The address has been changed. The new address is: cba@juilliard.edu - make the proper adjustments
In Harlem now, faced with the terrifyingly dire prospect of the children of my colleagues' younger siblings graduating before I do, should I not pass my placement tests tomorrow.

Harlem is nice - the black people here look at me with the confusion and curiousity one might only see at a Stanford Lambda party, when a chick walks in that actually resembles something other than a diseased goat. On the upside, the soul food is heaven on earth.

I walked into Juilliard's Paul Hall today for opening student orientation, and Justin Timberlake's "Senorita" was on full blast while the "Fairplay" (Juilliard volunteer students who help out with orientation) members danced alongside us - on stage, a slide show of "hip" looking student photos adorned a projection screen.

Next to me, I hear someone whisper..."who are you kidding? Juilliard isn't cool. We're classical musicians. That's not cool."

Amen.

Aug 27, 2005

Why is it that technique among white American musicians is generally poor except among white American homosexuals? Is homosexuality a coincidental trait that seems to negate the stereotype of slow/weak fingers? In general, I find, most white American musicians that have excelled in the music world have always been gay. Consider the trend.

Aaron Copland, single most famous American composer of the 20th century - gay.
Henry Cowell, famous for his invention of tone clusters - gay.
Ned Rorem, pulitzer prize winner and American art-song master - gay
Leonard Bernstein, legendary conductor and composer of "West Side Story" - gay.
John Cage, avant-garde innovator who started an American music movement - gay
Virgil Thompson, music critic and composer known for his wit and simplicity - gay
Garrick Ohlsson, world-renowned concert pianist - gay
David del Tredici, famous song writer and avant-garde composer - gay
John Corigliano, a favorite composer amongst performing musicians - gay.
Michael Tilson Thomas, music director of the San Francisco Symphony - gay.

...and the list goes on and on. Those are just the ones off the top of my head. A-list crowd, I know.

The trend doesn't appear to be changing either - consider your musician peers that you know today (the extremely talented ones) who are white Americans. Chances are he is either gay, or stuck deep in that closet.
For any of you from Paly that haven't heard yet, Bill Giordano (yes, Mr. Giordano, our shady ass P.E teacher that flunked me) was arrested this week on over 50 counts of alleged sexual molestation. The full article can be found at http://www.mercurynews.com/mld/mercurynews/news/local/states/california/peninsula/12448297.htm

Concentrate on not dropping the soap, motherfucker! Buahahahhaahah. Sick bastard.

Aug 26, 2005

Sin City.

A breath of fresh air. One of the single best movies I've seen in the last few years - and that is saying a lot. In an era where hollow cinematic formula douses the theatre like a urine drenched washcloth, Robert Rodriguez sauces up the screen with an innovative idea surpassed only by his suave pseudo-film noiresque style.

Why are movies going down the drain? Is cinema getting worse? Are we getting more intelligent and demanding as common viewers? Is the formula too easy? Is corporate industry-haggling dominating the inventiveness of the inventors?

Ever since the recent dawn of hardcore CGI, I have to say - I've always been anti. Rodriguez changed my mind.

"When it comes to reassuring a traumatized 19-year-old, I'm about as expert as a palsy victim doing brain surgery with a pipe wrench." - John Hartigan

Aug 24, 2005

A'ight y'all.

I am moving from New Haven to Harlem on September 2nd - any help with this move would be greatly appreciated. For any of you in the city or at Yale that day, please contact me.

Aug 16, 2005

Americans have no attention span for the literary medium. Whenever I publish a post that is longer than two paragraphs which is not about my personal life or does not contain any AIM conversations on it, nobody bothers to read it. This is sad.

Aug 15, 2005

Reflections.

On leaving California, I was reminded of the life I once had there; it was almost surreal. The life I built in my four years at Palo Alto High School and my three years at UC Berkeley at the time seemed to be more important and life-changing years than I could ever imagine.

I started my blog almost promptly after leaving Berkeley - in my first month here at Yale. It's strange to think that I'm finishing another chapter. I've gone through hours and hours of thought on what I've learned here in New Haven over the last three years, and I'm determined to make things right as I start a new chapter in New York City.

Last week, I stood backstage with Henry during the finale of Romeo and Juliet, waiting to play the Prokofieff - in a passing moment, it struck me that I no longer belonged to Berkeley. How long will it take for me to feel the same way about Yale?

I rarely write personal posts like this, but fuck it - I'm feeling like a pansy at the moment. Suck it.

Thanks to all y'all who made my California trip a good one - henry/quelani/steve chiang/jerome/leslie/stevecarter/jaakko/jimmy/dave/andy/leon/kevin/meredith/myung/steph/eisaku.

And thanks to all y'all who made my experience at Yale...an interesting one.

Goodbye New Haven.

Aug 14, 2005

The current battle: the evolutionists vs. the creationists

I hope this post doesn't ramble as incoherently as my last one did - the debate sort of demands some form of organized construction. As with any contemporary socio-political issue (abortion/affirmative action/gay rights), this seems to be the hot topic amongst bloggers and scholars alike; I have reservations even thinking about it.

Normally, I'd avoid such a taboo subject, but the educational repurcussions that Bush is currently pushing by his public endorsement of "intelligent design" (as the self-proclaimed 'free-world leader of education') seem too drastic to just let slide. For those who have been buried in a hole for the last few weeks (or in the deep south/midwest), I'll summarize a little bit.

A large majority of individual state's legislatures (particularly the red ones) have engaged in an education battle to promote the teaching of what they call a "two sided debate". Bush, in particular, has publically voiced to the press that "as with any controversial issue", middle-school children should be educated in both sides of the dichotomy and be allowed to decide for themselves. Of course, that's the short version of it.

The dichotomy, however, is a paradox in itself. It's a little like teaching kids two sides of a self-proclaimed controversy - the problem is, it's not really a controversy. To teach kids, for example, that some people believe that the world is flat, and others believe it to be round and then to decide for themselves would be misleading them; in itself, isn't it already misleading to tell them there are two sides?

The creationists' theory has been "academically" published amongst many scholars who proclaim that Darwin's theory of evolution is insufficiently educational, and furthermore, filled with holes. The creationism theory itself is a somewhat primitive one: it revolves around the concept that certain and specific aspects of nature are much too complex to be explained by simple and random evolutionary mutation - instead, it must be the work of a divine creator or an intelligent designer (namely God). A popular example is the eye.

A million different parts are involved in insuring that the eye is functional in all animals, and what's more, all other parts would theoretically be nullified with the absense of just one. Light recognition, muscle movement, retina design, etc. all coincidentally resemble a camera, for example; a product which is of 'intelligent design' - how is it possible, the creationists ask, that this is all random? It must be, they say, the product of a divine creator.

Of course, scientists and most people with half a brain disagree - nature evolves through millions of years and usually, as is scientifically proven, it evolves by natural necessity. It is not a huge stretch, or even a stretch at all to believe that a series of mutations occurred to produce the efficiency of the eye that all animals have today, purely by necessity. Thus, high-flying birds tend to have much stronger eye sight than other animals, specifically because of the necessity to catch prey.

A large hole that adds particular insult to injury is that, essentially, the creationists' theory needs not a shred of proof, scientific backdrop, or even any empirical study to back it up. In fact, the only thing it needs is a preacher behind a podium to say, "look at all these wonderful trees. They're so complex. It must be God!"

Of course, the issue of combatting faith with science (or vice versa) is not a new one - both sides have had their heroes for a long time (since the middle ages in fact) and many well respected scholars like Carl Sagan or Isaac Asimov devoted their lives to proving one thing one way or another. Obviously, in vain.

To me, it strikes as a cheap biblical desperation attempt to promote a conspiracy - perhaps those words are too harsh...but then again, perhaps they aren't. Pretend, for example, that the Bible stated that in a right triangle, the sum of the squares of the two sides added up to the area of the triangle - would it be a controversy back then in schools? Would they teach the kids the "two different sides of the controversy" - that a) the sum of the of the squares of the two sides adds up to the area, and b) the sum of the squares of the two sides adds up to the square of the hypotenuse? I wonder.

45% of the United States population currently believes in the literal wording of the Bible, specifically that God really did create everything in under a week. But what is our education in the United States coming to - in a time where the US is slowly losing it's scientific edge and super-power control of education to foreign nations, we're arguing about stupid shit like this.

As one political cartoon depicts, when you teach kids about astronomy, you don't teach them astrology to present "a different side". When you teach med students about neurology, you don't teach them phrenology to present "a different side". When you teach physicists about the theory of relativity, you don't teach them magic to present "a different side". Those latter statements are reserved for trashy magazines you get a grocery stand and New York City fortune tellers with fake Jamaican accents.

It's a shame that we have to even present American with this "controversy", particularly when required textbooks for classes like AP US History still only teach one side of the controversy of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima - namely, that it "saved millions of lives".

I have a friend named Guga who is hairy as a fucking wookie, he looks like Chewbacca - creationist theory would specifically allow me (with no scientific evidence at all) to publish this fact as "proof" that evolution really did happen - I mean, is it really so coincidental that he looks like a fucking monkey? No! This was intelligent design!

I hate to have it come back to this, but this discussion is really just an extension of my last post about pianists. It always comes down to the theory and dichotomy of science vs. hocus pocus. Pianists believe that what they're doing when they do what they do really works and some even have convoluted scientific mumbo-jumbo to back it up - despite the percussive nature of the instrument.

When it all comes down to it, I don't really see myself as taking as strong a side as what I may have written just now. As you all know, I am not a man of faith, and I do not have any religious tendencies at all. But I do work at a church, have many religious friends, and am generally sympathetic and understanding of faith and the belief in God. That being said, I don't really understand how the concept of intelligent design even has to conflict with science at all; but Republicans (especially the hardcore ones) see everything (including the Bible) in black and white. The words in the Bible describing God's 6-day creation of the world to me just resemble a symbolic gesture of His grand plan - it's not really that science conflicts with religion; it's mainly that the two ask different questions of the other.

If nature really is rooted in intelligent design, I think it would be pretty fucked up. What kind of twisted intelligent design would promote the complexity of a sexually-transmitted virus that apparently has no cure? What kind of intelligent design would let a tsunami wipe out a huge chunk of South-East Asia's population?

"If an intelligent designer lived on Earth, people would stone his windows." - loosely translated Yiddish saying, from Time Magazine.

Jul 31, 2005

My friends still crack me up.

j M 2 c a L (3:21:23 AM): we in vegas
car LOCO 69 (3:21:27 AM): who is we
j M 2 c a L (3:21:34 AM): ryan, stan, me, and mcquire
j M 2 c a L (3:21:27 AM): got in shit man
car LOCO 69 (3:21:33 AM): got in shit? with who?
j M 2 c a L (3:21:37 AM): some random fucks
car LOCO 69 (3:23:48 AM): where was everybody else
j M 2 c a L (3:24:04 AM): mac held me back
j M 2 c a L (3:24:04 AM): stan was confused
j M 2 c a L (3:24:04 AM): ryan was gaming on nasty hoes

Awesome.
Meadow Soprano is beautiful.
Tony Soprano is a fucking badass.
Henry and I spent a good hour reading through Beethoven's 4-hand transcription of the 9th Symphony; an incredible way of releasing stress, vocally as well, in bad German.

What is it about classical music's obsession with ancient Greek mythology that somehow, every composer finds a method to allegorically summarize some aspect of life through a Greek program. Even when Nietzsche attempted to simplistically codify all of music into a yin/yang dichotomy, his preference for vernacular still ended up being referred to as the "Dionysian" and "Apollonian". Why? Are we so lost for literary material that programmatic music must fall into one culture?

I'm quite sure that Beethoven wasn't at all thinking about the tragedy of Orpheus when he wrote his fourth piano concerto, yet the slow movement will always be linked to his romance with Eurydice - all because it 'coincidentally' resembles the tale; leave out the fact that Beethoven would probably roll over in his grave at the thought of somebody else programmatizing his own music which by nature, was meant to be absolute.

As a contemporary musician, I'm forced to think in a contemporary way - the next 'great' symphony I'm forced to analyze for a class, I bet I could find a way to relate to it to Tupac's east/west controversy with Biggie, and that fateful romance with Faith.

"That's why I fucked your bitch, you fat motherfucker."
- Tupac Shakur

Jul 24, 2005

I've been wanting to write this post for quite a long time, partly because it bothers me so much, and partly because it comes up in almost every pianist's daily life. For those who find the topic overly esoteric, stop reading here. There is so much on my mind, so a lot of this will seem like incoherent ramble - I hope you can piece it together, and please excuse the poor writing.

Since the beginning of our study, pianists are constantly taught to emulate a non-percussive instrument, particularly but not limited to the human voice or the violin - in fact, much of every teacher's goal is to successfully create some sort of aural illusion to display that the piano is anything but a percussion instrument. Pianists like Radu Lupu, Claude Frank, etc. are forever praised for their 'miraculous tone' and 'deep singing quality', as if it were some type of black magic.

Students today, though it seems, have gone heavily overboard in mythicizing the instrument. How many times have you seen an Asian girl at the piano contorting her elbow, arm, and wrist and every which direction at the top of a lyrical line in a desperate attempt to 'sing' or produce a 'better tone'? How many times have you been told to have a "less harsh" or "fatter" sound on those D-flat major chords in the Tchaikovsky? How many times have you been told to sing on the piano, often through one single note, an obvious physical impossibility?

I hate to de-mythicize the piano in such a Carl Saganesque manner, but I can't stand the Buddhist and surreal approach to producing tone any longer. Claude Frank is the master of tone not because he possess an unworldly and intangible magic to the instrument, but simply because he understands the physics of the piano in a way we could only dream of. Have you ever seen him (or Radu Lupu, or whoever) twist his arm to help out his melody?

I played for a teacher last year at Yale who truly believed that depending on the way you played a single note (sans pedal, mind you), you could control the 'tone' and even how the 'tone carries through the hall'. I thought to myself then that this guy is fucking psycho, but sad to say, it seems as though at least 80% of the piano students in the hall seemed to buy his crock of bullshit! I want to try and clear this up right now.

At the very basic level of the piano, it IS a percussion instrument. When you press a key down (without pedal), a hammer hits a string, releases the damper, and then immediately puts the damper back down. It is more akin to hitting a bass drum. Now think of the variables in terms of physics: when you hit a key (one single note), there is no such thing as "speed of attack" to determine the "harshness" or "quality of sound" of that given note. NO! There is only one variable, and that is volume. The ONLY thing you can control on that given note, by your speed of attack, is the volume of that note. NOTHING ELSE. Face it. If you isolate just one given note, there is no harshness or fatness or anythingness to that note - just the amount of volume. If someone tells you it's harsh, what he's really saying is it's loud.

Try it yourself. Hit middle C on the piano. Now change the speed of attack. Do whatever you want to this middle C. Play it with your nose. Play it with your foot. Change your wrist movements on it. Change your elbow movements. I guarantee you - nothing is changing in the sound except one thing: the volume of that middle C. Trust me. Whatever you hear differently is an aural lie, self-configured in your own convuluted mind.

If you still don't believe me (which I know a lot of you don't, and I really do feel sorry for you), take a friend. Close their eyes, turn them away from the piano. Now hit that middle C 10 times and change the way hit it. See if that friend can tell which ones are different. If your friend has any sort of brain at all, he/she will notice that only one thing is affected: the volume of the middle C.

So what makes a beautiful sound? Or a harsh one?

That's the even easier part. When you had more than one note, say a chord, the harshness is determined by your decided voicing and volume that you give each note IN RELATION to the other notes. A "singing chord" could just possibly be the difference between hitting the top notes louder than the bottom notes. A "fat chord" could just possibly be the difference between voicing the bottom and top notes louder than the inner notes, or vice versa. But on any given note, you really can only control one part of that note: it's volume.

Another myth: the pedal. Many pianists also believe that with the pedal down, whether you connect a legato line with your fingers or poke it out staccato, it makes a difference. Sorry. Wrong there as well. When you put down the pedal, the dampers on every key go up - thus, the hammer hits the key, then the hammer immediately goes back down, and the dampers never come down. Thus, whether you play a melody line stacatto or legato with the pedal down, it theoretically should not matter - as long as you are playing the volume of the notes in the exact same relation to each other.

Think of the piano as a series of drums. You can only control the volume of each note. NOTHING ELSE. In order to play beautifully, we have to produce an aural illusion that we are really controlling more than just that. That is the art of the piano. To think any differently is tricking yourself into believing the piano is something that it is not. To truly master a good tone, you have to believe in the truth.

If you are one of those pianists who turn their fingers horizontally on melody lines, good for you - but know that it is not affecting your sound. If you are one of those pianists who move their elbows in every which direction to try and have a 'nicer sound', good for you - but know that if you DO have a nice sound, it has NOTHING to do with your elbows. It is simply because you are a good musician and have subconscious understanding about the physics of what you are doing.

Many of you don't believe a word I just said. Unfortunately, by laws of physics, nothing I wrote just now was a lie. Learn to accept it. Don't be like a hardcore Christian who refuses to believe in evolution. Instead of learning the 'magic' of the piano, content yourself with learning the 'aural illusion' of the piano. Your life will change.

Jul 22, 2005

This is a compilation of application deadlines for pianists. It will be updated frequently.

Hilton Head - 9/30
YCA - 10/14
CAG - 10/31
Honens - 10/31
E-competition - 11/1
Dublin - 11/11
Tchaikovsky - 12/1
Maria Callas - 12/1
Bachauer - 1/1
Leeds - 2/10
Jaen - 2/25
Casagrande - 3/1
Hamamatsu - 3/31

Jul 16, 2005

Inherently, classical music is the cultivated art of schmoozing with the rich - albeit all the while, with 10 dollars in your bank account.

Leaving for California on Tuesday. Hit me up.

Jul 3, 2005

"Wait a minute / This is too deep"
- Mariah Carey

Jun 22, 2005

In the Hamptons now, debating my regretful dichotomy of beautiful scenery vs. being surrounded by a bunch of piano dorks. The beaches are overrated, the gas is expensive, there is nowhere to get a drink past 10pm, the town is dead, and I'm constantly forced to rehash old repertoire.

Saw Batman Begins the other day - why the craze amongst the critics? I think we're being sucked into ultra low expectations. It was better than Batman 3 and 4, albeit I'd sooner rape an unsuspecting goat than rewatch those filthy pieces of cinema trash. Christian Bale? Whatever. He's no Michael Keaton.

Also saw Mr. and Mrs. Smith - this is definitely the best bad movie of the year. Thouroughly entertaining.

Anyway, for all you wondering if I dropped off the face of the planet, I'm unable to go online here save between the hours of 6pm and 9pm - and on a 56k modem at that.

The Hamptons. Any beach in LA would spit on this shit for breakfast.

Jun 13, 2005

In California now, leaving tomorrow.

Congratulations to my roommate Mihai Marica, on his 1st prize victory at the International Irving Klein String Competition. There was never a question in my mind.

May 28, 2005

I need all non-pianist musicians (this includes non-major college retirees) who will be residing in the bay area for any part of this summer to contact me. Henry and I are looking for volunteers who want genuine intrinsic joy with no pay. But we guarantee you'll have a great time.

carlos.avila@yale.edu
carlosavila@gmail.com
(203) 887-3147.

MUSICIANS, HIT ME UP.

May 25, 2005

You know you're Filipino if...

- Your parents always get the letters "P" and "F" confused. (Unportunately, Puck!)
- You point with your lips.
- You get someone's attention with a "psssst!"
- You have 5 pairs of tsinelas (sandals) located outside your front door.
- You're Catholic, and your mom is a nurse.
- You have 58 cousins, and an uncle named "Tito Boy"
- You're somehow very proud about the fact that Filipinos are "ghetto"
- Balot (half-developed embryonic duck eggs) and bagoong (ass-tasting stew-like cuisine) doesn't disgust you.
- You listen to hip-hop at full volume and drive with the left hand on the steering wheel and your body angled a little to the right.
- It pisses you off that Tia Carrere and Jasmine Trias claim they're from "Hawaii" when all of the above and below applies to them.
- You have at least one aunt that drinks and smokes more than you.
- You have another aunt that has fully dyed her hair a different color.
- Your mothers friends who are not related to you magically become your "tita" and "tito"
- You have at least one brother/sister/cousin who truly believes he/she is white.
- You have another that believes he/she is black.
- When you go to "San Francisco", you're actually going to Daly City.
- You put up your knee and rest your elbow on it while you're eating.
- Your parents use certain action-verb phrases as nouns. "Mag take-a-bath ka na!"
- Your nickname is either "boy", "tutoy", or "nining".
- Your parents greet you with a loud "HOY!"
- Your mom says "bitch" instead of "beach" and "puck" instead of "fax"
- You buy a karaoke machine before you buy the TV
- You laugh when you see somebody fall, and cackle when somebody dies.
- Your way of hitting on girls is to put a not-so-smart smile on your face and repeatedly lift your eyebrows.
- Your mom confuses "she" and "he"
- You eat rice for breakfast. Always.
- You reuse disposable styrafoam cups.
- You think eggrolls are a Filipino invention called lumpia.
- When you can't think of a word, you say "kwan".
- Your last name is the same as that ghetto Mexican dude down the street.
- You resent that.
- You like to remind people that without Filipinos, there would be no Yo-Yo's.
- When your history teacher tells you Magellan was almost the first man to circumnavigate the world, you raise your hand and tell him that he didn't because a Filipino native named Lapu-Lapu whacked him on the head with a Yo-Yo.
- You're very proud of that. And so are your parents.

That's all for now. Brought to you by your token Pinoy.

May 24, 2005

Star Wars obsession:

naryantek: i thought the last saber battle was whatevs, it was the emotion that relaly carried it through
car LOCO 69: when they both use their hands to blow the other back with the force
car LOCO 69: that shit was awesome
naryantek: oh yeah that was badass
naryantek: haha
naryantek: me n you should try that sometime

May 22, 2005

This is the Star Wars gender-based cultural generation gap:

car LOCO 69: YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DESTROY THE SITH, NOT JOIN THEM!
charcoalj: what are you talking about

May 14, 2005

Hiding unwillingly in the wealth-soaked liberalness of Palo Alto, I've somehow spotted that age is this crucial entity in determining the for-granted. This really is, truly, a fucking weird city.

Read the housing section - not a house under a million dollars. Then look at the bumper stickers on the cars - all the cars are Benzes, Beamers, and Lexus' - yet they all have anti-Bush bumper stickers. Look around.

White teenage Abercrombie-donning girls talk on razor-thin Sanyo phones in one hand, the other behind the leather steering-wheel of a newly purchased 3-series convertible. Her mid-40's mom is at the tanning salon reading Hillary's "Living History", having just put in a generous donation in the mail to help starving Somalian children - her 2nd house is on the market for 3.2 million. It's a new breed of democrat: the powercrat.

Hypocrisy lies in the dichotomy between ideology and action. Justification never seems to join the former and latter. But does it always have to?

May 12, 2005

This is a response to those of you many who approach me regarding weight-loss, particularly how I managed to lose them 50 pounds so quickly. There really is no magic secret and most of what I tell you, you already pretty much know. But I'll sum it all up for all of you that are trying to lose a little pound or two. Or 50.

1) Lift weights. That is number one. Most of you (especially girls) think that they don't wanna bulk up or have no interest in looking toned; only weight loss matters. Well, the more you lift, the faster you'll burn calories when you do cardio.

2) Enjoy what you eat. This is key. If you try and starve yourself or start eating some nasty ass health food shit, it might work for awhile. But after a certain amount of time, you'll hate it and you'll quit. You'll give it up. I guarantee it. Find healthy food that you absolutely love - a lot of you think that doesn't exist. It does. You just gotta search harder for it or compromise with healthier versions of unhealthy food that you do love.

3) Don't go crazy with cardio. Do cardio, but don't go crazy with that shit. Few times a week and not so hardcore. Or else you'll just stop doing it after awhile.

4) Work out in the morning. There are too many excuses later in the day that will prevent you from working out. Plus, you burn the most amount of calories before you eat your first meal. All you gotta do is set your alarm one hour earlier than you would normally wake up every day. It's not that bad.

5) Try and think of image as a side-bonus to your health and well-being. Obviously, you wanna look good as well. Think about what's best for you and not what looks best, and the latter will naturally occur as a product of the former.

6) Stay away from mayo, oil, fried shit, chocolate, candy, and salad dressing. You don't need that shit. There are plenty other foods you can get pleasure from that don't include those things.

7) Don't rely on a special "workout friend" or special gym to work out. Be flexible. Your friend won't always have the same schedule as you. The gyms hours might not coincide with your schedule. Get used to the fact that working out sometimes has to be a solitary activity.

8) Vary what you do for cardio. Don't just do the same shit all the time. Vary it up. Run up a hill. Play basketball. Use the bike. Try the rowing machine. Whatever it is, vary it up. And up your cardio every few weeks or so, or your body will start immunizing itself to your workout.

9) If you're a beer drinker, get used to wine. If you're a hard liquor person, go easy. Beer has an immense amount of calories. So does a single shot of vodka. Wine is best.

10) Set unrealistic goals. It helps the mind and body work harder. Don't give up.

Apr 28, 2005

Story from Myung:

I’m staying at a hotel to prepare for finals b/c I wanted a nice quiet place to study and I wanted some really good rest – unlike my apartment, this place has windows!

so I was in the lobby and I was pulled over by some guy … he said … excuse me .. do you know anything about computers? i said, a little bit. he was having trouble with his wireless connection and asked me to go to his room to take a look at his computer. I said … okay.

on the way up, he said, “you guys are good at this kinda stuff … i know.”
i said … huh? You mean, Asian People?
He said yah.
I know I was supposed to be offended … but shiet, I’m in St. Louis… I’m already used to this. I said … “yah, you’re right. we’re born with it.”

Then I proceeded to fix his wireless.

Apr 21, 2005

How well do you know Jack Bauer? What would he do if....

1. It was between immediately rescuing 5 civilian children or pursuing a suspect with info to a major city-wide threat? Only one of the two is possible and the latter is not a guarantee.

2. It was between immediately rescuing his daughter or pursuing a suspect with info to a major city-wide threat? Only one of the two is possible and the latter is not a guarantee.

3. It was between discreetly following a suspect with a hostage (who will be killed) to obtain information, or taking the suspect down and saving the hostage to bring the suspect in for questioning? City-wide threat is on the line.

4. It was between shooting a friend in the head or risking an opportunity to disarm a bomb in a populated area.

5. It was between shooting a woman in the head that murdered his wife (purely for revenge), or turning her over to the authorities for interrogation regarding a strike against a civilian target.

6. It was between saving the life of the President, or saving the life of his family.

Answers:
1. latter
2. former
3. former
4. former
5. former
6. both

Apr 20, 2005

Some plans are now set:

May 10th - May 20th: California
June 2nd - June 12th: California
June 13th - July 1st: The Hamptons
July 14th - July 25th: Prague
July 25th - August ?: Sicily?

Apr 12, 2005

On a separate note, I almost completely forgot to acknowledge everybody else's recent achievements.

Congratulations to my former-roommate and good friend Ken Olsen, on his recent acceptance to the associate principal cellist position of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

Congratulations to my homegirl Meeka Quan, on her recent acceptance to the cello section of the San Francisco Symphony.

Congratulations to my homegirl Juliana Athayde, on her recent appointment to the concermaster position of the Rochester Philharmonic. She turned down the San Francisco Symphony.

Congratulations to my homegirl Adelle-Akiko Kearns, on her recent appointment to the principal cello position of Tokyo Metropolitan Opera. She turned down the Tokyo Phil.

Congratulations to my close homeboy Ryan Chen, on his recent acceptance to Washington University at St. Louis Law School.

Congratulations to my homeboy Quentin Kim, on his recent acceptance to the doctoral program at The Juilliard School.

Congratulations to my homeboy Wonny Song, on his recent victory and appointment to the roster of Young Concert Artist.

And thank you to everybody who has wished me luck and given me support on my next few years at The Juilliard School.

We're all growing up. We're all coming up. Things change. But only for the better.
Most of you know the story of me and Myung. We spent 3 years at UC Berkeley together without seeing the other wearing so much as a backpack. Today, we rejoice in his 2nd chance, and my 3rd.

My most sincere and full congratulations to Myung, on his acceptance to Georgetown Law School.

Mar 28, 2005

Wait a little longer and things will inevitably start to look up.

Starting fall, I'll be a student at Juilliard. I'm moving to the city. Creating another chapter in my life and hopefully this time, ending it with a cap n' gown instead of a yellow expulsion letter.

Dismissal is a thing of the past. Rekhanize.

Mar 12, 2005

The Judges.

Paul Pollei (chair): Without a doubt, the most idiotic bonehead to ever be allowed to touch a keyboard - it is my sneaking premonition that this absolute joke of a musician received his music degree by sending in a free voucher from the bottom of a Frosted Flakes box. Picture him: overweight Mormon from Utah wearing 5-dollar K-mart cologne, perpetually wet-dreaming about molesting unsuspecting contestants who will buy his crock of shit.

Alan Walker (writer): To my surprise, the most musical and educated on the entire jury. True, you always have to be wary about a man who spends 25 years researching the life of another man, albeit combined with his heavy Northern English accent and direct demeanor for both praise and criticism, he surprises me with his intellect.

Nelita True (pianist): Points for studying with my idol, Claude Frank. Needs a bit of work on wardrobe choice, since the mono-color full body outfit was in style only to worshipers of Jackie Kennedy and the artist formerly known as Prince. She, however, is truly a pianist's pianist, and her ideas seem to reflect this in style.

Pavlina Dukovska (pianist): Overly analytical Bulgarian woman - I suspect she probably douses Ritalin, Prozac, just-add-water scrambled eggs, and 2-day-old pizza into a blender every morning to achieve her overbearing energy. Great musician, if not a bit melodramatic; we spent 35 minutes together trying to make four measures more "special". Heh.

Kemal Gekic (pianist): Haha. This guy cracks me up. Maybe I'm not too keen on the cultural boundaries of style and professionalism in Croatia. This guy strikes me as a man who stylistically emulates (or attempts to) Fabio (in the I-can't-believe-it's-not-butter phase), Don Corleone from The Godfather, and some mild mannered stereotypical professor that walks around with a coat around his body without putting his arms through the armholes - purely for the distinguished 'look' of it.

Logan Skelton (musicological pianist): Sigh. Depressing. The quintessential failure; the man we all try NOT to end up like. Overly impressed with inconsequential musical ideas he "discovers", this a man who yearns to be heard. Living life through his students, this is the guy to fear in the same way a corporate employee does about the disgruntled worker next to him ready to go postal with a Tek-9 and AK-47.

Jorge Luis Prats (cuban pianist): Definitely the happiest man on the jury. Good thing? Sure. With the obese look of a mafia boss, endlessly chain smoking Marlboro Reds, and consistently cussing at the grass for making too much noise while it grows, this guy thinks he knows it ALL. Literally. So utterly convinced by every idea he possesses, this man epitomizes the true concert pianist. The anti-renaissance man. Guaranteed to make you laugh.

I've never seen such a funny jury in my life. Sad that the three judges I truly respect as pianists and musicians did not pass me. The three boneheaded idiots and the one non-pianist writer however, seemed to love it - and passed me with no question. What does this say about my playing?
I'm giddy as a school girl. Why?

Congratulations to my faithful homeboy, Ryo, for making it today to the finals of the Hilton Head International Piano Competition. Nobody deserves it more, and you are the single greatest pianist with whom I have ever had the privilige of working.

Mar 10, 2005

Classical musicians are mutually blessed and cursed: the latter with low pay, high rent, canned tuna, and cheap wine. The former, however, with the chance to travel the world and schmooze with the filthily wealthy.

I want you all to picture the following scene: Ryo, Orlay, and I sitting in an outdoor hot tub of a 10 million dollar house on the beach, with the sun setting in the backdrop of the Atlantic ocean 100 feet away, drinking 300 dollar champagne and smoking illegally purchased Cuban cigars. This is right after a meal of fresh raw oysters and shrimp.

Does it get any better?
Reactions from Alan Walker's lecture on "Liszt: The Cultural Ambassador":

Spending three years at Yale University breeds a distinctive small town mentality that consistently favors a German musical bias. The entire faculty at Yale, as I've come to realize, is so incredibly vehement against non-German music that after awhile, you almost seem to believe that composers such as Liszt and Rachmaninoff really do cater only to the ignorant and uneducated. Today, I was thankfully sucked back into reality with a lecture that truly proves the contrary.

The ignorant and uneducated, as I've come to learn, are the professors at Yale. Bold statement, I know.

Alan Walker, who has quickly come to be regarded as the foremost guru on the life of Franz Liszt (he spent 25 years researching him), yesterday presented one of the most enlightening and inspiring lectures I've ever attended. The lecture presented Liszt as the ultimate humanitarian, the true gentleman, the intellectual, the impresario, the writer, the reader, the transcriber, the performer, the poet, the painter, the radical, the conservative, and of course, the composer.

Perhaps more than any finer point of the lecture was truly the annihilation of the Elvis-esque stereotype that seems to perpetually shadow Liszt's image - yesterday, it was replaced with that of the quintessential moralist and humanitarian. Liszt was Horowitz, Maynard Solomon, Richard Taruskin, Martha Argerich, John Cage, and yes, Elvis Presley, all beautifully rolled into the enigma that clouds history today.

Sad that Yale shall probably forever remain in its cultural bubble, content to live life amongst the snobbery of conservative German Romantics and the serialism of post-war expressionists. There is more to life than Brahms and Schoenberg, and to deny this is to live a truly unhappy life.

Robert and Clara Schumann once hosted a dinner party their residence, to which the likes of Berlioz, Brahms, Liszt, and Wagner were invited. Liszt and Wagner, in classic renaissance charm, arrived two hours late; half-drunk, of course. Liszt proceeded to shpeal on a tirade insulting the music of Mendelssohn as elementary, at which point an angered Robert Schumann approached him and struck him on the chest, just before storming upstairs in a rage.

Franz Liszt, with the charm and a smile, told Clara, "Please inform your huband that he is the only musician whom I respect enough to tolerate such behavior."

Mar 9, 2005

Hilton Head. Perhaps I'm going through a late stage of every musician's psychological nightmare: Am I just living in a fairy tale?

As musicians, we're constantly being bombarded with the most depressing dichotomy; the emotional paradox: if the people that I love believe in me, why am I getting rejected over and over and over again? How many rejections will it take to stomp out a dream?

As a man, I am constantly paying for my mistakes. I make a lot of them, in life and in music, but the immediacy of the latter is more psychologically disturbing than the macroscopic duration of the former. This year, I simultaneously pay for both at a price that is pushing me to a human limit I am being tested to endure for the love of my trade. I don't know how much more I can take.....or at least before I resort to the manual labor of lifting boxes for Staples at minimum wage.

The mistakes I made years ago (really....YEARS ago) that follow me today in every endeavor I pursue seem to only be a reflective reminder of the mistakes I make at the piano that follow me to the announcements of results time again and again.

It's common knowledge today that the best political move for a politician in D.C who makes a mistake is to fess up to it, apologize, and pay for it. (Arnie conquered it well when he fessed up to his bullshit sexual harrassment charge) I've fessed up, I've apologized, and I'm paying for it. Now, it's time to just stop making mistakes.

Mar 8, 2005

What I am about to say will enrage the in-readers of those who actually dare to pick up those unrewindable piece of medium called books.

I don't think David Sedaris is that great. Yes. I SAID IT. He's not that great. He's ok.

So I just read "Me Talk Pretty One Day". I finished it. It was good. He's funny. But deep down inside, I think he's just a watered down version of Dave Barry, whom I am sure gets lower points already amongst the intellectually homosexual for the sheer fact that he's not gay. Which brings Sedaris to another witty advantage; he's gay. A lot of his humor is "Will and Grace" on a more respectable literary medium, and really nothing else. It's good. Just not great.

I just thought of that after I read this article today by Dave Barry and couldn't stop laughing: http://www.miami.com/mld/miamiherald/living/columnists/dave_barry/5564439.htm

For those too lazy to click the link, I'll paste some here.

[start quote]


It's tax time. I know this because I'm staring at documents that make no sense to me, no matter how many beers I drink.

Take, for example, my Keogh Plan. If you're wondering what a Keogh Plan is, the technical answer is: Beats me. All I know is, I have one, and the people who administer it are always sending me Important Tax Information. Here's the first sentence of their most recent letter, which I swear I am not making up:

``Dear David: The IRS has extended the deadline for the restatement of your plan to comply with GUST and various other amendments until, in most instances, September 30, 2003.''

I understand everything in that sentence, up to ''David.'' After that I am lost. Apparently I have until September 30 (in most instances) to get my plan -- no, sorry, the restatement of my plan -- to comply with something (but what?) called ''GUST.'' And of course various other amendments. But how do I do this? And what if I don't?

The letter doesn't make this clear. It does, however, say this: ''You must adopt EGTRRA prior to the end of the plan year beginning in 2002.'' I am, frankly, reluctant to adopt anything called ''EGTRRA,'' which sounds like the name of a giant radioactive chicken that destroys Tokyo.

The thing is, this letter isn't from the Internal Revenue Service (``We're Working To Put You in Jail!''). It's from people on MY side, people who sincerely want to tell me something, probably important, about GUST and EGTRRA. But I won't even try to finish their letter. I'll put it, with all the other tax documents that I do not understand, in a folder marked ''Taxes,'' and I'll mail it to a guy I know named Evan. A few weeks later he'll mail me back a tax return that I will sign and send along to the IRS without reading any part of it, except where it says ``SIGN HERE.''

That's right: I have no idea what my tax return says, even though I'm legally responsible for it. I just have to hope that, when Evan prepares it, he's not in a prankish mood:

IRS AUDITOR: Mr. Barry, can you explain why, on page 27 of your return, stapled to Form 4992, ''Depreciation and Amortization,'' is the thymus gland of an otter?
ME: That's not mine!
IRS AUDITOR: Also, on page 23, you claim, as dependents, and I quote: ``The Entire Cast of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.''

[end quote]

Mar 7, 2005

It's hard to make coherent sense out of such an enigmatic locale as Hilton Head Island - a haven for the senile octogenarian and the wealthy golf pro; a retired paradise for the republican values of the congenitally elite. Here, the daily decision making revolves around what time to call Bob for the morning golf match and when to make space for naming that demented alligator who keeps trying to climb the fence of our gated community.

It's a nice vacation. Any more than 10 days here would force me to eat decomposing feces from a wrinkled goat for mere pleasure, but for the time being, it serves as a good breather.

To be able to socialize and drink wine with the most conservative of conservatives is a talent I am quickly getting accustomed to. I just have to remember catch phrases like "Yes siree, those tax cuts sure do make life easier!" and "Hunting season starts soon for the live buffalo, wild turkey, and runaway homosexuals!".

Sigh. Send me home.
Midnight conversations with my girlfriend:

car LOCO 69: think about this scenario
car LOCO 69: i get rejected from juilliard (most likely)
car LOCO 69: i get a job at uhaul (if they take me)
car LOCO 69: struggle to make rent (just barely)
car LOCO 69: and i become a complete bum
YuMi43: ok
car LOCO 69: then some new hot incoming pianist comes in
car LOCO 69: and leigh hall opens up
car LOCO 69: and suddenly you're "practicing late" every night
car LOCO 69: while i deliver uhaul trucks to deadbeat alcoholics moving apartments post-divorce
car LOCO 69: i come home to an empty apartment, and you call me saying that "ooops sorry. is it already 3am? i lost track of time playing my strauss concerto"
car LOCO 69: "strauss didn't write a concerto, baby"
car LOCO 69: "oh he didn't?"
car LOCO 69: "i meant, um...sibelius!"
YuMi43: should we just break up now before any of this actually happens?
car LOCO 69: and you'll start seeing some outlaw biker named harley with no social security card just for the excitement of non-musician sex
* * *
YuMi43: i already found someone
car LOCO 69: awww
car LOCO 69: me too
YuMi43: my vagina

Mar 5, 2005

More South Carolina conversations:

Host father: You know, I did a lot of business in the Philippines. It used to be a great place under Marcos.

Me: Marcos was a murdering dictator...

Host father: Yes, but he ran the country quite well. Now...it's not so great. You know, I had dinner with Imelda once! Charming lady.

Me: Um...Yeah, but she was kind of a psychopath...

Host father: [obviously not listening] Well, anyway. The Philippines really was beautiful, wasn't it?


It's gonna be a long ten days.
Initial thoughts on South Carolina.

Host mother: If you feel like getting some fresh air or going for a walk, do be careful walking by yourself outside.

Me: But I thought this a gated community.

Host mother: Yes it is, but you'll have to watch out for the alligators!

Me: Alligators??

Host mother: Yes, we just saw a 15 footer today! You can't outrun them. But if you do come across one, try and zig zag if they chase you. Or if you see a tree, try and climb it. Alligators don't climb trees.

Me: I see...

Mar 3, 2005

Take notice.

Mr. Frank is playing Schubert B-Flat Sonata on March 29th. If you live around here and you miss this, you will probably die ignorant and otherwise unhappy.

Mar 1, 2005

Scandal, scandal. The issue of politics in the classical music world knows no end.

[begin quote]

Ms. Yoheved Kaplinsky, one of the twelve competition jurors, asked to be relieved of her position, citing the fact that seven of her pupils were accepted into the competition. “I regretfully feel I must step down from the jury,” said Ms. Kaplinsky. “I believe it is in the best interests of the competition for me to do so.” Cliburn president Richard Rodzinski added, “having so many of her pianists accepted to the competition is an extraordinary tribute to such a great teacher.”

[end quote]

Feb 15, 2005

My apologies to everybody - I've been out of commission for awhile. I'll update soon.

nyc: 3/2
hilton head island: 3/4 - 3/14
bay area: 3/15 - 3/20

Jan 13, 2005

Apologies to those who assumed I was dead for the last week. Actually, it wasn't much far from the truth as I've spent more than a desired amount of time in Grand Rapids, Michigan playing a concert. Observations of the midwest as a first-timer from California?

Fuck that's a lot of snow.
If almost half of the world's entire population is Asian - where the fuck are they all?
Fuck that's a lot of snow.

I feel unfortunately left with absolutely no desire to ever travel in the vicinity that lies between the two coasts. Call me a snob...

Jan 4, 2005

I actually didn't miss Berkeley at all until I saw this picture on Stan's website. The Marina. Our favorite spot. Myung and I must have spent hours here over the course of our three years - studying, talking about chicks, discussing some mindless obsession.

Jan 3, 2005

The cynicism of disappointment, the rebirth of love, the cycle of stupidity.....and another year begins. What have I learned from 2004? Nothing really, see me again 2006.

Though it has virtually become cliche to diss the clicheness of new year's resolutions, I'm gonna be cliche in dissing the clicheness of dissing the clicheness of new year's resolutions - I'm gonna make one!

This year, I resolve to be selfish. Being selfish has always been a problem for me, and it gets me into a lot of trouble when I give more than I have, on both a pragmatic and emotional level.

Oh yeah, and I'm gonna quit smoking. heh. That one's been in the works since Michelle gave me the patch in 1998.

Anyway, I'm getting ready to leave the Bay Area, after having made a whirlwind week visit for the first time in years. Thanks jaakko/steve/dave/jerry for the memory-inducing alcoholic campfires, a staple of our childhood that I hope we continue til we're 70.

Well, I don't feel old yet. Even though Jerry did get engaged, you fucking sell-out! Taking this year one day at a time.

Dec 27, 2004

Lifted from Guson: I get the feeling that all asian households are universally extremely cold. I think it's because they want to save on utilities...

azule 3177: asian households
azule 3177: are so fucking cold

bsra n c h o: dude you are so right
bsra n c h o: I have to wear a jacket around the house

JouLe Zoo: omg, my house is so cold

TwoSidedMobius: fuck yeah
TwoSidedMobius: my house is freezing

Mikedsego: my house is so warm and toasty. i love it!
(he's white)

Dec 17, 2004

Somebody is playing a cruel joke on Myung:

j m 2 c a l: the garage was closed dude
j m 2 c a l: i came home and it was opened
j m 2 c a l: and torn apart
car LOCO 69: that's like
car LOCO 69: the first scene to 'scream' or something
j m 2 c a l: yah man
j m 2 c a l: serious ... it feels like someone is playing a joke on me
j m 2 c a l: it's that weird
car LOCO 69: when you came home did you go all jack bauer into your house
car LOCO 69: looking both ways backing up the stairwell
j m 2 c a l: naw man .... i went nutcracker
j m 2 c a l: i pranced in

Dec 3, 2004

It's been a long day and I'm tired. A lot of you have no idea what's going on, but when you find out, you guys will all be asking me a series of questions. Let me answer most of them now.

What happened?
Come see me for a drink. I'll tell you then.

How does this keep happening to you and why do you keep doing this to yourself?
I'm sorry. I don't really know. I might have some sort of innate pathological self-destructive tendency that I'm unable to rid myself of - I guess some people thought I had changed, but maybe it's time to fucking face reality and admit to myself that this time, it's time to take it like a man and accept today for what it is. Maybe my confidence has been based on some massive delusion; maybe it's just been me living in some existential dream, trying to dissipate reality into self-catered fiction. Sometimes you have to look into yourself realistically without the sugar fucking coating that the people you love sprinkle on you all the time - how many people will you have to let down to realize that you're just a bad person?

I apologize, I really do. I'm sorry for letting the few of you down who believed in me and had hope in me, and I wish to God I could change. But maybe it's time that those of you who have some sort of misguided faith in my "potential" (or whatever that means) or talent to just give up. Sorry.

Dude, it's not your fault. This is just so fucked up.
No. It IS my fault. And in retrospect, it's sort of an artificial utopian optimism to believe that I just get fucked over all the time. My resume reads like a sociopathic rebel incapable of controlling his own actions. Those who love me feel I'm misunderstood; those who hate me think I am a cocky son of a bitch who believes he is above the law; those who know me think that what comes easy to me is dangerous; and those who don't know me would rather keep it that way.

I've been kicked out of so many institutions by now I can barely keep track of them all. "You ever think there comes a point where you gotta stop living up there, and start living down here?"

What are you going to do now?
I don't know yet.

You have so many people who believe in you and you always let them down. Don't you think that's selfish? How can you just keep doing that?
Like I said before, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. Maybe you guys should stop wasting time "believing" in me. You'll get better results that way. Don't get me wrong - I'm grateful to all of you, and I'd be a wreck without you guys. But it's time for me to stop living in a fucking fairy tale.

Dude, don't say that. It's not true.
Don't fuck with me. I know it's true. You're a better friend to me if you just spit it in my fucking face. Seriously.

I don't know what to say. I'm sorry.

Don't trip. Life goes on, homes. Life goes on. I'll be fine - I promise you.

Dec 1, 2004

Here's the competition results so far:

Rubenstein Competition...............NO
Van Cliburn Competition..............YES (ny audition in feb.)
Beethoven Competition................YES (ny audition in feb.)
Hilton Head Competition..............NO (alternate, hoping for someone to get sick)
Corpus Christi Competition..........YES (in feb.)
Santander Competition.................still pending

next up: washington international and cleveland

Nov 26, 2004

Good motherly advice from my mother:

charcoalj: u can screw women without giving a fuck
charcoalj: women get attach when they screw
charcoalj: and they wont even screw you unless they are emotionally attached
car LOCO 69: you should relax
charcoalj: ok
charcoalj: but do not screw them
charcoalj: dont fuck them
charcoalj: go out with them- but dont get them emotionally involved with u
charcoalj: and dont have sex with them
charcoalj: once u get sexually involve with a girl-they think it is real
charcoalj: well if u fuck them-u r giving them something to hold on to
charcoalj: and dont under estimate the power of messed up girls
charcoalj: u can get them pregnant
car LOCO 69: jesus christ, relax
car LOCO 69: i don't wanna talk about this anymore
charcoalj: u r 23 but u r always my son
The most abominably unfair difference between the life of a musician and the normal (non-musician) is that for the rest of our lives, we will never have a vacation longer than two weeks. And for some fucked up strange reason, that doesn't really matter to us, usually because we fill ourselves with contorted self-justifications that more-or-less boil down to something relating to 'emotional enjoyment' or some other bullshit.

But yes, it's true. Musicians a) never retire. We work until the day we die; teaching, playing, etc. b) can't bear the thought of more than two weeks from our instruments.Even if we deny it.

A lot of you musicians are sitting there going "not really. Just last month I went a whole two weeks without practicing." Probably. But did not you just not play? More than likely you read through some chamber music with friends, fiddled around with some scales and then got bored, attended some brainless mandatory orchestra rehearsal, whored yourself to some useless gig that gave you rent money, taught some ineptly retarded secondary-student, or participated in some form of the like.

Seriously try and remember the last time you went a full 14 days without touching your instrument completely. You were probably 15 years old, maybe younger. And if you have gone 14 days in the recent past, you probably have some wild story you brag about to your friends about how you once went that long without doing it and then you came back, and your hands felt like jello. "It was great, such a relief" you tell your friends. But you're not really fooling anybody. Deep down inside, you felt like shit and you thought your technique was going to hell. .....then again, you could just be a brass player.

But face the facts. We musicians will never have a vacation. It's not possible. The rest of our lives are chained to our instruments, whether you like it or not.

"When I go one day without practicing, I know. When I go two days, my teacher knows. When I go three days, the audience knows."

-Arthur Rubenstein

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