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.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, January 18, 2010
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
