Summer Nights

It's Labor Day, which means summer is coming to a close and fall is on its way.  This summer was one of the best I've ever had.  I thought I'd commemorate Summer of 2010 with a very special blog post.

Summer of 2010 was the summer of....

• E-I-O-U
• Girls' dinners
• The Plush shows
• The Golden Birthday
• "Actually, we're not together anymore...."
• 17th St. Idol
• Pool parties and barbecues
• Salvador at Congress (aka Thursday nights at Congress)
• SB 1070
• Red Wine
• The Bucket List
• Jager
• The Kavorka
• gchat
• Mt. Lemmon climbs
• Monday/80s nights at Congress
• The Swell Season Concert
• Mimosas
• Wrist stamps
• The Rise of the Dude Advisor
• Rug burn
• Concealed weapons
• The Matisyahu concert 
• Sneakers
• Sky Bar Open Mics
• Tots

Feel free to add to the list.  Until next time...peace.

You're Not Just Telling Stories

Months ago I received a phone call from a stranger.  I knew as soon as the man introduced himself why he was calling.  He asked to speak about a matter I thought I'd never have to discuss again on someone else's terms.  When I finally agreed to speak with him in person, I contacted one of my closest friends and expressed how distraught the call made me.  I told her how I was tired of the situation and wondered when the ghosts of my past would finally remain in my past.  She told me something that changed my perspective on the situation: "You've told the story before.  You can tell it again.  You're good at that - Ke'opu the storyteller."

Her words helped me remember how important storytelling had been to me through the winter of 2009 and 2010 - be it songs, fiction, or non-fiction.  It took her words for me to recognize that all the many songs I wrote between October 2009 and April 2010 were telling the stories of everything that had occurred over about a one-year period.  Between October and April the story evolved and so did my songwriting to help deal with everything going on.  And, when both the story and the storytelling was finished, my songwriting again changed.  In fact, I can see a distinct difference in the subject matter and style of the songs I've written since April.

As much as I thought the story of everything that transpired between April 2009 and April 2010 was done, it's become apparent over the last few weeks that I'm still very much affected by it.  I wrote my way through a great of deal of it, hence songs like "Lie to Me," "Worst Enemy," and "I Stand."  I wrote short stories and prose to work through the pain.  I've grown to learn though that there's a little more processing that needs to be done before I can fully close that chapter of my life.

So, what I've decided to do this Fall is work on recording an album telling the story one more time.  It's been a project I've thought about undertaking for a bit but never quite with this focus.  It'll take some time, but I'm hoping it will be worth it to re-work many of the songs that I play most frequently, adding other instruments and revising lyrics and melodies.  Expect to see more blogs about this project as I'm sure the process will yield a great amount of writing material.  I'm nervous.  I'm scared.  I'm really excited.  This is a new chapter in my life that will help turn the page on another.

Oh, the project and album title?  "Nothing Sexual."

Until next time...peace.

Every Plan is a Tiny Prayer to Father Time

Change.  Most people find it difficult.  Difficulty is an understatement when it comes to me and change - try a losing battle where it's better I just sit and take it as a lesson learned.  When change is in the air, my balance is thrown off emotionally and physically.  My body and emotions usually know change is coming before I know consciously. 

Change has characterized a good deal of the last two years of my life and especially the first seven months of this year.  I have it on good authority that it will likely characterize my life for a little while longer.  Instead of just taking the beating, I'm going to try to go for the ride.  Aside from changes in profession, lifestyle, etc., it might even include a change in location (who knows, right?).  So, I took it upon myself to make a Southern Arizona bucket list - things I want to do before I leave Tucson.

Disclaimer: I have spent a great deal of the last 4 years in town experiencing as much of Tucson as I can, so many things quintessentially Tucson are not on here because I've already done them.  Also, list is subject to change.

• Cycle Gates Pass
• Cycle Mt. Lemmon
• Wine tasting in Sonoita
• Horseback riding
• Hike to Romero Pools
• Visit Bisbee
• Visit Tombstone
• Visit the Desert Museum (one more time)
• Eat at The Grill at Hacienda del Sol
• Eat at Janos/J-Bar
• Stay at the J.W. Marriott Starr Pass
• Attend the Tucson Culinary Festival
• Eat at every decently rated restaurant on 4th Ave and in downtown

Until next time...peace!

Something In This Life Has Happened For Me

Note: I share my music readily, but I guard my writing in a steel fort.  So, please be delicate with the following entry.  

So in case you haven't seen the annoyingly prolific posts on facebook, here's the news: I passed the Arizona Bar Exam.  It's significance is more than just a passing grade for me and the countless others who saw their names on the list Friday or even in exams past.  I have known far too many classmates and friends who took that test in the middle of personal, professional, or family crises.  And, I'm proud to say I've seen so many of them succeed in the face of pain.  I'm not sure what the moment meant to those colleagues, but this is what it meant to me:

Passing
by Ke'opu 

     Her heart beat in a frenzy as she saw the black words turn blue.  Her heart had not beat so quickly or loudly since the test itself, or perhaps it had when the battle was in its infancy.  Those were dreadful beats then though; these were beats varied with dread, hope, wonder - though she could not tell which were which.
     She pressed the button and held the phone to her ear as she waited for the page to load.  The phone rang.  Would this be a moment she'd prefer to spend alone or one she'd be happy to have shared?  The phone ran again.  She reminded herself to breathe at least one breath.  The click of the phone told her the moment had come.
     "Congratulations," her mother exclaimed.  She wondered if this was only premature.
     She responded loudly and bitingly, "I never even saw it yet!"  She couldn't believe how inarticulate this moment had rendered her.
     "Well we did!" her mom said with the happiest of tones.  She was bewildered.  Could her mother be so cruel as to lie to her?  Certainly not, but she couldn't scroll fast enough.  She pulled the bar down not enough then too much.  Where was it?  She mumbled while she could hear the excited silence of her mother on the other end of the phone.  Up and down she scrolled.  This moment had not just made her inarticulate; it had made her incapable of functioning.
     Then, she found it.  The longest line on the page.  The only line with a diacritical mark on the page. The only four-named entry on the page.
     "ARE YOU SERIOUS?!" she yelled to her mother over and over again.  And then, when she had asked the question enough times, the tears flowed from her eyes.  She covered her mouth and closed her eyes.  She let the moment engulf her.  She let more pain flow from her.  "I can't believe this," she said more tenderly than her previous words to her mother.
     Memories flashed before her.  The night in her kitchen when she read his dreadful and life-changing words.  The June morning she woke up in his bed knowing life was crumbling all around her.  The day she thought she could hide her pain under a blanket.  The moment she sat between the sharply dressed woman and the man who asked endless questions.  The afternoons she ran away from her problems and studying on two wheels.  The nights she imbibed excessively in a fruitless effort to numb her pain.  The walks she took alone.  The nights she spent broken to pieces in an empty house.  They flashed and then left her.  It was over.  They were gone.  Those people were gone.  That institution was gone.  The pain was subsiding.
     The tears continued to fall and she tried speaking again, but her words were either incoherent or inaudible through them.  "I can't believe this," she said again tenderly.
     She once thought the world was against her.  His cruel and thoughtless words.  Their unnecessary prying into her personal life.  Their relentless pursuit of some crack in her story, in her character.  The exam had simply occurred amidst all of this.  That's not how it should've been.  The exam should've been the center of her life.  They ensured it wasn't.  She had thought it was all punishment for every sin she had committed in the last year.  She thought the world had a vendetta against her.  But, she realized vengeance was a human concept.  The world was actually with her and behind her.
   "I can't believe this," she said once more.  She had said that a number of times in the last year.  This was the first time she said the words though with a smile.


Until next time...peace.

All the Pieces of Me

When we encounter someone or something new, we try to fit them into nice little neat boxes.  We're human (and specifically American); it's what we do.  I consider the ability to approach something new and not try to fit it into a proper little space in our frame of experience a super human strength.  It's our nature or maybe just our thorough conditioning.  We want a label to make things easy.

We don't just do it when we meet someone new (insert related discussion on race).  We also do it with seemingly mundane things.  I, for one, even find myself doing it with my own songs.  Last week for example, someone complimented me on a new song.  As they were trying to distinguish which one they meant, I said "the happy one?"  The song was just days old and still I had already labeled it.

I find myself doing it while writing songs too in a way.  I try o to pin down one of my labels, one of my emotions, one of my states of being, and write about it.  After all, music is about being in the moment and typically I write because of a particularly strong emotion in a specific moment.

The funny thing is that no matter how much I try to label things or put them into nice little boxes I can't.  A song about anger or resilience might have fear or guilt bleed through.  I might write a playful song and feelings of hesitancy or resentment might peek out.  I am apparently not as simple as I'd like to think.  Through writing and songwriting I've come to appreciate more greatly the complexity of human emotions.  It's easy to see how thinking about a single moment can stir feelings of anger, sadness, betrayal, disappointment, and fear.  But, it should be just as easy to look at an experience and feel (then and now upon reflection) simultaneous emotions of pure joy, guilt, regret, elation, fear, and sensuality.  It's that richness of emotiona and expereince that makes human existence so completely enthralling and worth writing and singing about.

And yet, despite understanding and now writing this, I find myself still try to label myself, if only to package who I am for others.  I try to say who I am, find ways and words to define myself.  I come up only with a list of things that I feel define who I am today.  Hopefully you'll see how difficult it is to confine yourself to labeling experiences so simply.  At one or many points in my life I have been any or multiple of the following:

A Hawaiian, a mixed-race person, an academic, an athlete, a singer, a writer, a student, the other woman, a depressive, the abandoned, the leaver, the desired, the desirer, the faithful, a loyal friend, a hopeless romantic, a strong minority woman, a scared little girl, the white-privileged, the impoverished, the spoiled only girl, a daughter, a sister, an aunty, a part of a cohesive (if slightly eccentric) 'ohana, a proud individual, the firecracker, a law student, the victim, the survivor, the short-fused, the girl who likes to smile...and so much more. 

I am, in short, a bit complex.

So you can try as much as you want to label me (I know I've tried), but I have all of these things in some piece of my being.  Every time I try to label myself, I realize that I can't deny one of these truths without denying them all.  I know I'm not the only person out there like this.  But, I think we can all benefit from admitting that we so rarely fit one label.  I know my music does.

Until next time...peace.

I Fought the Law and the Law Won

What do I really want at this point in my life?  The ability to continue making my art and sharing it with others.  "What about that law degree," you might ask.  What about the seven years of post-high education?  What about the close to three years of legal internship?  The sass in me would love to shout "to hell with it!"  But, that's not exactly an accurate exclamation of my feelings.

This time last year, the Associate Dean of Academic Affairs at my school asked me "so do you regret it?"  She was of course referring to my decision to go to law school (and stay in law school).  I had to think about it.  Eventually, I told her I didn't regret it.  I told her I thought it was all worth it.  Despite how much of law school upset me and everything that's happened in the last year of my life, I still believe that as truth.

The truth is that the years I have spent since entering law school have given more than an ability to parse legalese.  It helped me find who I am and what I want to do.  My skill set and confidence greatly improved because of the education and training I received.  I learned I could write.  I learned to believe in myself in law school because if I didn't, no one else would.  I learned I was better suited to create rather than master existing procedures.  Funny enough, in law school and my legal internship, I found the artist in me that always lingered beneath the surface.

There was and still is a great deal about law and the legal profession that upsets, saddens, and disappoints me.  I thought repeatedly about giving up law school and even the legal profession in general because of those disappointments.  Thankfully, in the end, I found comfort in a handful of coping mechanisms: distance running and cycling, cooking, writing, and music.  These were my ways not just to escape my disappointments but also to process and deal with them, especially with writing and music.  Interestingly though, because of my legal training (mixed of course with my education in political science, international studies, sociology, social justice, etc.) I approached both my writing and my music in a new way.  When I started writing and making music again, I was a totally different artist than I had ever been...and I liked it.  In my legal training, I learned new methods of organization.  I learned effective and powerful communication.  More importantly though, I learned how I worked best.  I learned the best ways to approach a project that suited me and got the best product out of my abilities.  It really did make a difference.

I'm not sure what life will bring me from here on out.  As much as my legal education and training have transformed me, I am unwilling to submit myself to the profession at this moment in my life.  Over the last few months especially, I have become thoroughly disillusioned and disappointed in the legal profession.  At this point in my life, I'm unable to stomach seeing the very people breaking the spirit of laws be the same people charged with interpreting and enforcing them.  I'm glad I have met a number of current and prospective lawyers who are able to handle the challenge while making a difference.  I'm counting on them to make up for what I can't provide.

Still, while I walk away from the practice of law if only for a few years, I know my life and my abilities are what they have become because of my legal education, my legal training, and my interaction with practicing attorneys (that were often a mixture of great and terrible).  I am thankful for the opportunity I was given almost four years ago to the date to go to the University of Arizona's Law School.  I appreciate everything law school and my legal training have brought into my life, especially the confidence in writing and making music.  You may never see me in the courtroom or in the Bar Association publications, but don't ever say my legal education and training went to waste.  I'm using them to make me happy, and that is what I call a good education.

Until next time...peace.

A Ship in a Bottle Set Sail

The last couple weeks have been rather busy between a trip home to Hawai'i and catching up from the time out-of-state.  But, it was all worth it.  While I was in Hawai'i, I got to meet my beautiful niece who was not even a week old.  Not only was it wonderful to meet her, it also encapsulated the fresh start 2010 has brought me.

Perhaps other years and times in my life have offered me new starts, but in 2010, I finally took advantage of the fresh starts that stood in front of me.  To say 2010 has been a fresh start doesn't quite capture exactly how much has changed in the first three to four months of the year.  I've taken opportunities to change who I worked for and what I do for pay.  I've taken opportunities to meet new people.  I've taken opportunities to experience new things and places.  But, what I've been happiest with was the opportunities I've taken to increase the presence of music and writing in my life.  It's taken a lot of faith and effort, but I think it's been worth it.

A few nights ago I performed a short set at LawLawPalooza, a fundraiser for University of Arizona's International Law Journal.  I played several songs up on O'Malley's stage looking over the crowd.  I felt great up there.  I'm starting to feel more comfortable performing.  I'm starting to have more fun.  I'm starting to love it.  And as much as I loved being up there, the thing I remember best from that night was something a friend said to me as soon as I got off stage.  "What a difference from first year," she remarked.  I responded, "I know!  I was afraid of the world then." 

The changes I have made since the new year have been tremendous.  They're put better into perspective though looking at where I am now compared to where I was just a couple years ago, as my friend mentioned.  In my first year, I got up on that same stage shy and meek - afraid of my own shadow.  Last year I climbed up on that same stage and played a couple of covers and an original I had written years previously.  I remember saying to friends who came last year to see me perform, "I hope you savored that because it's not happening again for another couple years."  And now, I requested the opportunity to play several of my very own originals (written in the last six months) and felt so much more confident and comfortable up on stage than I had any of the previous times.  I even got to announce the EP I had available to purchase and an upcoming show I was playing.  How things have changed.  Truly, what a difference it was.

2010 hasn't been all easy.  In fact, I've had to make some of the most difficult decisions I've ever made since 2010 began.  But, what I can say is that 2010 has been kind enough to offer me a fresh start in so many places in my life that need it.  And most importantly, I have been brave enough to capture the opportunities.  I can only hope the opportunities continue to present themselves.  Even if they don't though, I will be proud of what I have accomplished so far and I will be thankful for everything 2010 has given me.  After all, I've got a great new job and employer, new songs, new gigs, new friends, new stories, new experiences, and a beautiful new niece.  Even if the rest of 2010 is uneventful, my cup will be overflowing with fortune and fresh starts.

Until next time...peace.

Have a Little Bit of Faith in Me

Patience.  My mom always said it was a virtue I never had.  She's probably right.  When something needs to get done or I want it to be done, I want it done immediately.  I've learned to temper the urge as I got older, but that doesn't mean I ever learned patience.  I think it's time I learned it.  I started running again.

Last August, I stopped running completely because of a hip injury.  When I got the diagnosis and was told to stay away from high impact sports, I was devastated.  It meant I couldn't run the Chicago Marathon I had registered for.  I picked it up again here or there after my doctor said it was okay.  But, I never got back into the swing of things again.  While I was out on injury, I focused on cycling and spinning.  I completely immersed myself in cycling last fall in preparation for El Tour de Tucson.  If I couldn't run the Chicago Marathon, I could certainly give the 109-mile race my all.  So, I was extra cautious and stayed away from an extensive running schedule, worried I would throw my hip out of commission again.

Since I left the sport from injury, I've run here or there but never anything more than seven miles - usually closer to four or five miles.  Now that I'm starting back up again I've learned that it's not strength, endurance, or even cardiovascular strength that I need the most; it's patience and a little bit of faith in the process.

I need patience because I'm essentially starting from scratch.  I'm starting from those days when I never called it running; I called it shuffling.  I'm starting from the days when just finishing the mileage was a success let alone achieving a specific time goal.  I'm starting from the days where more people pass me than I them.  It's frustrating.  I want to be back at my old pace.  I want to be able to run a half-marathon without a problem.  I don't just want these lofty goals generally.  I want them now.  But, I don't have them now.  I won't have them for awhile.  It's probably what kept me away from the sport for so long.  I was endlessly frustrated with myself and decided the process wasn't worth it.

Slowly but surely, I'm learning though.  I did a long run at a pace that would've mortified me a year ago.  But, I felt strong for most of the run and truly enjoyed shuffling along on the river path.  I'm learning to appreciate that getting back to speed is a process.  And, I'm learning that the process is just as important and exciting as the finished product.  And, I'm learning that this lesson will serve me well in other areas of life as well, like writing and songwriting.

I want so desperately to be done with my current writing project because it's so painful to endure, but I know it's going to take a lot of time to get everything down and coherent.  I'm learning to accept that the process is worth it though.  Many of my songs are close to a finished product within two hours.  Others have taken upwards of three months.  None of them though are ever good when I rush the process.  Sometimes it takes playing the chord progressions over and over again.  Or maybe it takes running through the work in progress again and again until that perfect rhyme or melody variation sinks into place.  Like running, the process of writing - fiction or songs - is as important and exciting as the finished product.  And, like running, appreciating the process takes patience and a little bit of faith that it'll all come out okay.

Until next time...peace.

Everybody Hurts Sometimes

Alright, I admit it.  I've been neglecting my blog.  But, to be fair, I have had a lot going on in my life.  By a lot I mean just a lot going on in one area of my life.  I let it take the front seat in my life ever since the Bar Exam.  Most of the time it took the front seat because of the actions of others.  However, I do have to admit that at times, I let it take the front seat.  I let it bother me.  I let them bother me.  I let the stupid actions of one man run my life. 

I did need to process everything I was going through, so I couldn't just shove it away.  But, I abandoned some of the coping mechanisms I had learned to use at the exact moments I needed them most.  When I neglected this blog, I neglected writing in general.

Writing, whether it's music, fiction, non-fiction, journaling, or blogging, has meant a great deal for me over the last year.  I've used it to face a lot of things.  I've used it to find answers others were unwilling to give me.  I've used it to talk things out with myself.  I've used it to heal.  That's why I was so surprised to find myself abandon it when life all around me seemed to be crashing down.

Then I received a wonderful gift in the mail from a very good friend.  It was actually two parts, but the part important for this blog was a book called Writing as a Way of Healing: How Telling Our Stories Transforms Our Lives.  It reminded me how much I had depended on writing in the past.  It reminded me how it could help again.

So I followed the advice of the book and made myself sit and write, or at least brainstorm.  And what would you know...one new song and the first drafts of two new short stories came out.  Each of them helped me comprehend and process a different thing in my life.  And, while writing each of them brought to the surface pain I hadn't yet dealt with, it also helped me re-shape the story in my own words - not re-write history, but claim ownership to it in my own words.  This was particularly important in one instance because I literally was the victim who had her voice taken away from her by a man she trusted.  Writing it out helped me find my voice again.  It helped me own a situation I had no control over and that I had let run my life.  It helped me start healing from the mistreatment.

So I'm coming back to the words with those stories and these blogs and promising to be a more diligent writer and, hence, a more diligent blogger.  It may not be for you though.  It may be for my own healing.  Maybe we can even heal together...lol. :)

Until next time...peace.

Our Lives Are Made In These Small Hours

Too often we look around and only see the bad.  And why not?  Sometimes life really isn't the kindest to us.  Sometimes life hands us lemons that make some pretty crappy lemonade.  Sometimes we have so many unfortunate things and events in our lives that it hides any and all good.  It's in those times those that we have to dig as deep as we possible and scrape the bottom for any bit of strength we have.  We need that strength to scrutinize closely our lives and find something worth living for - something worth moving forward for.  It could just be some tiny moment in time that gives the spark we need to go just a little farther.

Last night, I lived one of those moments.

As usual, I attended the regular Tuesday night spin class taught by my favorite instructor and very dear friend.  She often plays my music for warm-ups and cool-downs in her classes, so I was expecting that.  I did not expect what transpired in class.  We started our first big climb of the class to strumming I knew I had heard before.  Within a few seconds, my voice came booming over the loud speakers of the class.  We began our climb to one of the newest songs I recorded: "Extraordinary."  I couldn't believe it.  It was surreal to be pushing and pulling against resistance to the rhythm of my own voice.  I closed my eyes and rode.  As the final chorus played, the instructor encouraged us; "Be extraordinary," she told us.  I closed my eyes tighter.  How could this be happening to me when just two hours earlier I felt so depleted?

Last night's spin class proved that our lives might be filled with difficulties, but it's the small moments that make all the struggle worth it.  It's the five minutes of hearing a song you wrote just a month previously booming over the loud speaker.  It's the five minutes of watching everyone in the class move to the beat of your melody.  It's the friend who believes in your talent enough to play that song.  It's the people who constantly encourage and challenge you to be the best person you can be by both words and example.  It's the people who supported you when you weren't strong enough to support yourself.  It's the glimmer in your eye when you believe, if only briefly, that you can achieve the goal you've always dreamed of attaining.  It's the smile on your face when these small moments can breathe life into you.

It's easy to dwell on the difficult and the struggle.  In fact, sometimes it's important to dwell on it while we process and deal.  But if we can dig deep enough, we just might find the strength to decide if the small moments are worth the struggle.  I can't say you'll always believe they are; I can't say I have always believed it.  But, I hope you will at least be strong enough to consider it. 

Until next time...peace.

Are you strong enough to be....

So...I'm finally back!  The February Arizona Bar Exam is now behind me, and I can live like a normal twenty-something again. Now I'm back and ready to blog!  I know this blog is supposed to be about my music, but what's music without the inspirations and stories behind it?  So, I feature today one of those reflective musings...ask my family and close friends...I'm really good at these.

When I finished the bar exam last Wednesday, I practically ran out of the building.  In fact, I was so hyped if I didn't have friends waiting, I might've attempted a run - plastic baggie full of #2 pencils and all.  At the same time I had a compelling urge to run, I was also on the verge of tears.  I had no real idea why.  Then I realized what it was. 

Very few people know the full extent of the insanity that has been my journey over the last two years.   You need only know that I could easily fill a full season of an prime-time drama with everything that's happened.  Last summer seemed the climax of my dramatic story.  I abruptly left Tucson, the only place outside the islands I ever truly considered home, to take refuge in the comfort and isolation of Hawai'i.  I left dear friends, co-workers, and even family members stunned and confused by my sudden decision to move.  To be clear, I had my reasons - very good reasons - for my decision.  But, at the heart of those reasons was a lack of the strength I needed desperately. 

Over the summer I left a great deal of unfinished business because of the lacking strength.  I left Tucson even though by my departure, it broke my heart to leave.  I continued to be hurt and affected by people who never earned that power.  I even withdrew from the Illinois Bar Exam.  And worse, I was plagued by the memory of every crazy thing good and bad I had endured over the previous two years.  It was cradled by the Ko'olau and in the comfort of people I now know will accept me no matter what mistakes I've made that I slowly gathered the strength I needed to complete the unfinished business and process my journey.

I realized on Wednesday that I had finally completed one of the last pieces of unfinished business from the two years of craziness - the bar exam.  I was so emotional because I was finally closing the book on a very tumultuous chapter of my life.  I had reclaimed Tucson for myself.  I had learned to have more patience and thicker skin.  Most importantly, I learned to appreciate every experience that made the last two years of my life one hell of a story instead of living with regret or guilt. 

That final lesson was the one that helped get me through the exam.  It was also the one that brought me back to music last fall.  It helped me turn all of my experiences - good, bad, and in between - into something constructive.  Why let an asshole bother me, when I can immortalize his actions in song?  Why get stuck on bad memories, when I could pour the emotion into ballad?  Why simply smile over my progress when I can sing about it?  In fact, I penned one of my newest songs, Extraordinary, about this exact lesson.  I only hope that from this blog and that song others can see that we all have our own journeys.  But, if we remember the obstacles we overcame on those journeys, we can show ourselves that we are strong enough to face so much more.  If we persevered once, why not again?

See, I brought it back to music...eventually.  Until next time, peace.

A Change Will Do You Good

I cracked open a fortune cookie during lunch on New Year's Eve with my family.  I've been keeping the fortune in my wallet, taking it with me everywhere I go.  What was that fortune? 

The coming month shall bring winds of change in your life.

Some of us are superstitious (even to the point of getting a tattoo of angel wings on our left shoulder for good luck....) and others are not.  Regardless of where you stand on the spectrum, there's one thing for certain: this fortune has been frighteningly accurate.

Since that December 31st day, a lot has changed in my life.  More than I even could have predicted at the time.  I returned to Tucson in January after the holidays with some goals and the determination to achieve them.  I had goals to live healthier, get in better shape, and some of the other more common things we all strive for.  I also had a goal to push my music a little more seriously to see where I could take it.  I knew I wasn't going to get a record contract in a month, but I wanted to put my music out there and get more people listening.  In January, I played an open mic (and would've loved to play more of them), I took a bunch of photos in anticipation of promo materials, and I laid down several tracks.  By the end of January, I even put together a four-song EP called The Empty Bedroom Sessions EP, which is available to the masses (just send me a note).

But what was more surprising was the other things that had changed in my life.  In the final days of January I gave notice to the office where I like to say I once came of age.  I started winding up issues from my past that I never thought I'd get to put behind me.  I prepared to get closure finally with some people, places, and relationships I had never had the strength to close the door on. 

As I started February, I knew I'd no longer be working the same job and I'd be delving deeper into hermit-mode as the bar exam loomed more ominously.  However, I also knew I had set life up to be different and hopefully much better.  January brought me a long way.  I'm not sure if the fortune was truly divine or if it was merely a self-fulfilling prophecy...the "okay" I needed to finally get moving on the changes and dreams I wanted to pursue.  I do know that I had come a long way in just thirty-one short days.  And, I do know that I still have a long way to go.  One thing I carry over from the fortune cookie prediction in December though is the excitement of the changes to come.  It's an excitement that pushes me to be stronger, go harder, and be bolder.  I accept the challenge.

Until next time...peace.

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

For those who don't know, I'll be taking the Arizona Bar Exam (yeah, the one to become a full-fledged lawyer) in a month.  I had originally thought about suspending my blog until I had time to make the at least weekly posts I promised myself.  But, I had to do at least one about my experience this weekend.

This weekend, thanks to some very very very good people and dear friends, I got to live my dreams for at least one day.  On Sunday, my photographer (and friend) showed up at my front door armed with her camera and encouragement.  A couple hours, four outfits, and two locations later, we had close to 100 pictures I could use to help promote my music.  If feeling like a model for a couple hours isn't surreal enough, I then spent two hours standing in front of a mic with my guitar plugged into a soundboard laying down track after track until literally my fingers bled.  Two or so hours later with the help of my friends and their son, I had nine tracks put down on a CD.

Recording those tracks moved me the most.  When I strummed the last chord of "Lie to Me" I had to do everything in my power to hold it together.  It's usually an emotional song, but it had so much more significance that day.  It was the song that had started my writing frenzy this past Fall.  And, here I was singing into recording equipment to distribute to anyone willing to listen to me.  When I strummed the last chord of that song on the floor of my empty bedroom, I could only have dreamed it would even see the light of day outside my room.  There I was recording it.  There I was living it.

I still can't comprehend how much Sunday meant to me.  For that day, I felt like the music I made was really something of value - something that deserved the multiple hours of recording.  I felt proud of what I had to offer the world in song.  I felt like confident enough to believe someone might actually want to listen to my songs.  By the end of the day, I was mentally exhausted.  I had concentrated on lyrics, chords, and notes for over two hours.  I had spilled emotion after emotion out in melody to be preserved for the future.  Everything I had thought was only a wild imagination had become a little more tangible that day.  Then, when I ripped the cd onto my mp3 player, it finally started to hit me.  Tears came down as I listened to what I only imagined was my own voice.  I heard a song I once wrote sitting on my empty bedroom floor with even more tears flowing down my face.  Was what I heard really real?  I still don't know.

I got to live my dream for that day with photos and recording.  But, those dreams will be put on hold for a month as I spend more of my days studying.  I feel cheated somehow that I have to study for an exam I don't even want to take instead of focusing on something that brings me far more joy - my music.  Then I remember that I waited 5 years once for a song to come out.  I waited 8 years to have the confidence to take my music seriously.  I waited 25 years to finally convince myself that my dreams will only ever become reality if I make them so.  So...I think I can wait for one month...I hope.

Until next post...peace.

Gimme One Reason

There's rarely just one reason we do anything that consumes our time as much as music consumes mine.  When it comes to writing and performing music there are two big reasons for me.  Funny enough, I write mostly for one reason and perform for the second.  I write music to get emotions out that I may or may not even know are there.  I perform though, in part, for the sake of others.

Why?

Not every song is a gut-wrenching ballad about depression (see "Independence Day") or disappointment and heartbreak (see "I Will Wait).  In fact, some songs I write and perform simply for the fun of them (see "Untouchable").  Many of my songs though deal with specific experiences in my life.  They deal with heartbreak, depression, homesickness, injustice, and anger to name a few.  I don't lead an extraordinary life, which leads me to believe that I'm not the only one who shares these feelings or even experiences.  I've written songs derived from specific major depressive episodes.  I've written about specific relationships and affairs.  I've written songs dealing with issues of native Hawaiians.  I've written because of sexual harassment.  I've written about being disappointed by a certain person in my life.  I know not everyone has had the same heartbreak, loving longing for home, or anger toward being mistreated, but there might be just one person who has.  I perform for that one person.

I might write to cope, but I perform to share with other people.  I live for the moments when I watch someone's reaction to a particular line.  I live for the moments when I know my song told someone that it's okay to feel hopeless or heartbroken.  I live for the strength my moments of weakness can give to other people.  I live for the times when I can see the same disappointment on someone's face that I felt when someone special betrayed me.  I live for these moments because I hope that in the shared experience we can all cope and move forward.  And...it's even better when we can do it with a little bit of fun.

Until next time...peace.

Getting Started

Before I get this blog truly up and running, I wanted to give a little back-story.

My story begins on the windward side of O'ahu where I was born and raised.  Even from a young age, music was an essential ingredient in my life.  Our family would sing loudly while we listened to music in the car.  If someone was in the shower, you knew you'd get a private concert.  I grew up around live Hawaiian music since my dad danced hula.  I even tried my hand at writing a song when I was a child - "Erase the Hate" was the title, but I've thankfully forgotten the lyrics.

I didn't get my hands on a guitar until my last summer of high school.  I picked up the guitar to strum and sing along to my favorite artists.  I started writing my own songs though almost as quickly as I picked up the first few basic chords.  By the time I graduated I had written a handful of songs, one of which I still play today.

I moved to Chicago in August of 2002 for undergrad.  I moved into the dorms with my guitar and continued playing, singing, and writing music - sometimes with the company of my floormates during jam sessions.  I even fell in love my first summer with the guitar I still play today.  However, my time in Chicago did not lead to the boon of musical opportunities I had imagined.   I stopped playing music regularly in my second year of college.  I had hit a major wall and couldn't write a song I liked no matter how hard I tried.  So, I put away my guitar, forgot almost every song I had written, and generally forgot about making music.

Life truly moved and changed during the five years I spent away from music.  I graduated from college.  I moved across the country with my then-partner to attend law school.  I lost 80 pounds.  I started doing distance running and cycling events.  It wasn't until my life got chaotic that I sought the company of my guitar.  After a harsh break-up and difficulty dealing with the identity crisis that follows a dramatic weight-loss, I finally re-opened my guitar case and started playing again.  Playing, but not writing.

It was again crisis that brought me back to making music.  In the summer of 2009, I moved away from Tucson hoping to alleviate personal crises and depression.  I spent three months in Hawai'i before I was strong enough to return to Tucson and reclaim my life.  One of the first items I insisted on pulling out of storage, for some unexplained reason, was my guitar.  I started playing and singing the first week or so, but still not writing.

And then, it came to me.  I had played a chord progression over and over again until finally something clicked.  I strummed, hummed, wrote, re-wrote, until finally "Lie to Me" was done fewer than 24 hours after I had begun writing it.  Over the following couple weeks song after song came out of me.  I worked on them over the fall and winter, and when 2010 began, I had 10 new songs fully or almost completed. 

I thought seriously about pursuing music as 2010 approached.  I had grown much stronger just over the few months I had returned to Tucson.  My confidence built.  My friends encouraged me.  So...I made the resolution to start making music more seriously.  After my first open mic at Sky Bar, I fell in love again with performing and sharing my music, and my resolve strengthened.

Here I am now.  I'm ready to get out there and start sharing my music.  I do it because I love it.  I do it because I hope people can hear my music and know they're not alone in their experiences.  I do it for my own release.  I do it because it's fun.

So...here I go.