In Which I Am Alive

Perhaps it's just a manifestation of my spring fever, or the fact that I watched Leap Day last weekend, but I have been incredibly psyched for St. Patrick's Day this year. (Which is a little ridiculous, because what would I even do on St. Patrick's Day? I don't drink, which seems to eliminate...the majority of options). So far, my plans are to listen to Irish pub rock all weekend (good thing I already have a Pandora station in place for that), get friends to play some non-alcoholic drinking games with me (Fresca pong, anyone?), watch Waking Ned Divine, and go see Natalie MacMaster perform some Celtic fiddle tunes. Some of these activities won't actually happen until a few days after St. Patrick's, but that just means longer celebrations for me! Hooray! Commenters: what do you usually do for St. Patty's, if anything? Do you have any vaguely Irish plans this weekend? And, for your listening pleasure: In other news...if any friends want...

For the past few weeks, I've felt myself disappearing. It was terrifying, because it was reminiscent of these days , or these ones ... dark times. (heck, I'm not afraid to say it: pre-Zoloft times). I couldn't remember what I loved, or even what I liked. I didn't want to do anything. But not doing anything was even worse, because it turns out...when you can't remember who you are, being alone is unbearable... because you don't even have yourself to keep you company. And so you stay busy, you stay around people, and you sleep a lot. But then, over the last few days, I found myself waking up a little bit, like a perennial popping back through the soil in the spring. It wasn't ever dead, the bulb was there all winter long, waiting for the sun to come back. And I don't know for sure what it was... but it might have been being in a classroom, teaching music for the first time in far too long and then spending almost an hour just chatting w...

"Be who you are, nothing more, nothing less And let the beauty that you love be the very best. Sing praises to the Highest with your feet on the ground And reach your brother with the words that you sound. And don't let mistakes be so monumental And don't let your love be so confidential And don't let your mind be so darn judgmental And please let your heart be more influential." -Michael Franti

You know, I'm not usually one of those people who posts songs on their blogs. But maybe I should become one of those people, especially when there are songs like this wonder floatin' round the Internet. Live like you wanna, friends. Live like a warrior.

I've been wanting to blog a lot lately, but I'm starting to get worried that I'll overwhelm you all, dear readers, with the onslaught of posts, and you'll get freaked out and start running around in circles screaming "Too many woooorrrrddddsssss!!!" and then you'll run away and never read my blog again. And that would be sad, I guess. Oh well. I should have gone to bed about two hours ago, but then I missed the appropriate time window. I stayed up so late that I guaranteed that I'll be tired tomorrow. So now I'm thinking, "What's the point of going to bed if I'm going to be exhausted either way? Might as well stay up." Except that I told a friend I couldn't go on a Denny's run because I needed to sleep, so I guess I ought to go to bed on principle... Until yesterday, I'd forgotten how much I love back massages. And head scratches. In case you were wondering, it's a whole lot. As a good friend discovered last ni...

To the freshman I frightened at work today: You'll understand when you're older. Sometimes, there are days when the pressures from school, work, church, dating, and trying to plan your summer (oh, and your entire future) become so intense that the only possible way to keep from going crazy is to rock out to Queen's "Somebody to Love," with all the volume you can muster. And if you  happen to have a large mop that can double as a microphone for you to dance with as you channel the frenzied genius of Freddy Mercury, well, so much the better. The startled look on your face when you came upon me swaying, dipping, and belting indicates that you have not yet reached such a desperate emotional state, and I am glad that you have been spared thus far. But just know that one day, little freshman, you too will join the ranks of the crazed upperclassmen. And that is the day when you will have to explain to a terrified, timid first-year why you were dancing with a vacuum cle...

Dear whoever I end up marrying, assuming I get married someday, because I fully understand that that may never actually happen, There are a few things you should probably know about me from the get-go, so there aren't any nasty surprises after our nuptials: I don't want a diamond on my ring. Or really, any kind of rock. Just a really awesome looking band, with maybe some cool swirlies and just a few tiny colored stones inlaid in it. Also, please don't spend ridiculous amounts of money on it. I think a couple hundred dollars is a good upper limit, though I bet you could find an awesome one for much cheaper. I thrash a lot in my sleep. And kick. And sometimes tear all of the blankets off of my bed. Sometimes I wake up with my head where my feet should be. I've been known to walk, talk, sing and laugh in my sleep. I hope you're ready to never get a good night's sleep for the rest of forever. Unlike the majority of my Mormon peers, I really appreciate facial ...

I think I'm a morning person at heart. I love feeling like I'm the only one awake, like I have a head start on the rest of the world. I love the pink-grey-gold of morning air, the streaks of sunrise peeking from behind the mountains. I love the prattle of birds welcoming the day, the quietness of a still-sleeping world. Unfortunately, my circadian rhythm doesn't share this love of the early hours, making me wired with energy late at night and sluggish in the early hours. So...mind over matter, I guess? My dear friend Bekah is back from her mission and I'm remembering how much I adore her and her blog . This morning I was 25 minutes late to a choir rehearsal because I was rediscovering her writing. And it was probably worth it. So this one time a few weeks ago, I was in a band. We played at the ward talent show, had big plans to try out for Acoustic Explosion, and then kind of fell apart.. But it was a good run. There's something magic about the artistic coll...

It's like a romantic comedy: girl meets boy, girl hates boy, girl gets to know boy better and falls deeply in love. Take out "boy" and add "numerous long-dead classical composers" and you've got my college music career in a nutshell. That's right folks. I never thought I'd say it, but over the last couple of semesters, I've fallen deeply in love with three dead dudes: J.S. Bach, Joseph Haydn, and W.A. Mozart.  For years, I maintained that Bach was too complicated and calculated for me to enjoy. To all you classical music aficionados, I can only say, "I was young! I was ignorant! I had only ever played Bach Inventions, and a little bit from the Well-Tempered Klavier!" However, last year, I was introduced to (aka forced to learn) an incredible keyboard Toccata and...wow...just...wow. Shortly thereafter I discovered Bach's more awesome organ works, and just last month became enamored of his Mass in B Minor. Powerful stuff. And stud...

World, today I practiced piano for an hour. I mean, really practiced. Metronome, exercise book, scales, the real deal. And I made some serious progress on the Schubert piece that I've been wanting to perfect. Serious enough that I might  might have it ready in time for Grand Pianos Live. (So ya know, if you want to come see me or anything...) It felt...so good. Seriously. Not just to be at the piano again, not just to feel like I was making quality music, but to know that I was making music on my own terms. That I wasn't doing it for a grade, that I wasn't preparing for juries or a recital or a nervewracking lesson the next day. I was just playing because I wanted to play. Because I missed Schubert. Because I love the feeling of drilling a phrase over and over again, until you've got the dynamics and the phrasing and the balance and the expression absolutely perfect, and then you can move on to the next phrase and make it just as perfect. Knowing I could stop any ti...

So, this semester I'm participating in the Artsbridge Scholar program at my university, where I get to work in an elementary classroom helping to integrate music into their curriculum. I'm going to be going to a 4th grade class once a week to teach music, and I am incredibly excited. As part of the program, I'm required to document my experiences in a blog. If you're interested in seeing what I'm up to, you can check it out here:  http://karissateachingadventure.wordpress.com/

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is my favorite.  Also, I visited the dump today, which I had never done before. And yesterday, I decided that fourth grade is my favorite grade to teach, which is ironic, considering it was my least favorite grade to be in. Also, today will be the first time I've ever listened to more than one Sufjan Stevens song in a row. And I can't decide how I feel about him. I think we're going with, "Bizarre, but in a way that kinda really appeals to me." But I'm not sure. Maybe I just like it because people have been telling me for years how much I would like Sufjan Stevens. That is all.

You know you're in the right major when simply doing your homework for hours relieves your anxiety, loneliness, and worry more than any of your leisure-time activities do. I've been in a bit of a funk all week, and though I felt better while I was playing with my Callie, hiking with Warren, watching Rifftrax movies with Cindy and Josh, and singing in my choir concert, it was a distractional relief, gone as soon as the distraction ended. But spending hours and hours today and yesterday reading up on child development, studying classical concerto forms, analyzing a Mozart piece, and writing a paper about social competence in 4 year-olds has brought a lasting, permanent mood change. It's like the difference between...I don't know, a pain-killer and an antibiotic? I think the fact that I'm doing something productive, challenging, and enjoyable (to me) has some kind of magic to it.

Guys...I'm TIRED. I feel like I wake up so early and then I run around and do lots of things and then I go to bed far too late. And a lot of the times I'm sick of it, and wish the weekends were longer and that I could relax. And then I reflect on how much time today I spent making music (4 hours today, peeps. And half of that I got class credit for). And how much of that time I was listening to music. And how much of that time was spent having fun with my family, or chatting with my awesome work friends. And working with a children's choir. And talking to one of my best friends for the first time in 2 years (and realizing that friendship is a pretty durable thing, even when time stretches it). In all honesty, it was a wonderful day. So yes, as I crawl into bed tonight, the thought of waking up again in 6 hours sounds dreadful. And yes, I wish I had more free time in which to write, to read, to run, to hike... But still, though tomorrow will be as exhausting as tod...

I'm currently sitting in the main gallery of the Harris Fine Arts Center, doing my homework. There's a beautiful student art exhibit going on right now, entitled, "Transformed by Light". Right now, there's a man (one of my professors actually), exploring the exhibit with his kids (who look like they range in age from 3 to about 7). Typically, the terms "art exhibit" and "kid-friendly" don't seem to mesh well. Kids don't have the attention span, sophistication, patience, depth, etc. etc. to understand art, right? But he's walking with them from painting to painting, saying things like, "Whoa, check out the line on this guy's arm, isn't that cool?" and "Why do you think the artist decided to paint him like that?" And then one kid sprints across the gallery to another painting, saying, "Dad, Dad, this one's really cool!" These little guys understand art. It speaks to them. They may not know a...

I'm wearing a happy yellow Threadless shirt, cargo shorts, and no shoes. My feet are happy and bare. The end of my homework is in sight. I just took some delicious bites of a Milka bar (how I missed European chocolate...) I don't have to go to work today! I had Honey Bunches of Oats for breakfast today (that, in and of itself is reason for rejoicing). I had Mac and Cheese for lunch (Can you see the importance of food in my life?) I'm listening to my little sister and her friends make a movie about pirates. It's hilarious. I watched SOOOO much Kid History today. I'm starting to recognize the joyful new opportunities that come from painful life changes. I get to have a girls night with my favorite apartment of friends tonight. I got to sightread Beethoven for a while today...for homework! Yes...life is good.

Today I am 21 years of age. It doesn't feel like that big of a change, because I've been telling people I'm 21 the entire time I've been here (I have this tendency to lie about my age sometimes...). But nonetheless, I am now a real adult. I have a history of being out of town on my birthday: 2 while I was at girl's camp, one in Yellowstone with Jessie, and now one in Vienna. It started with a package from my mother (which I forgot to take pictures of...oops), full of American granola bars (a staple of my life) and a cake mix that I shall make later today. I spent my morning learning about Klimt, Schiele, Mahler and Schonberg (PS did you know that Leonard Bernstein had like, the same life story but in reverse? Mahler was born in Europe, conducted the Vienna Phil, and then crossed the pond to conduct the New York Phil. Bernstein was born in America, conducted the New York Phil, and then conducted the Vienna Phil. Oh also they both were Jewish. So it's fitting that...

I've heard a lot about about Mumford and Sons...but never listened to them. I've been planning on it, but haven't gotten around to it. Today, I just realized that they covered " Not in Nottingham ."  Halfway into the song, they are already my new favorite band.

Guys! Guys. GUYS!!! I just realized something amazing. Listen to this . Now listen to this . Yeah, I know, weird, right?? It's highly possible I will be telling everyone I know about this for a few days. And even more highly possible that they'll look at me and say, "You never realized they were the same? Wow...." I'm still really excited about it though.

There is something magical about a day that begins with playing trains with a two year-old.... and continues with making music on my own for 3 hours..... and then with exploring, playing, climbing and breathing in the mountains.... and then with a concert where I'm torn between standing transfixed listening to the music and dancing like a maniac.... and then with a heaping serving of ice cream.... Yes, this was a good weekend.