The day before this blog was born

On March 5, 2005 I was nowhere near where I wanted to be. Sure, I happened to be visiting Lani Land for the second time ever on a men's fellowship/retreat with FCA, and I spent much of the time praying and playing broomball (as well as recording "Ironic Oblivions" with a motley crew of musicians back at Olaf later that evening). I even tore a hole in the bottom of one of my shoes (yup, smack-dab in the meat of the material) while playing broomball.

But also on the day before this blog was born, a funeral was held at St. Luke's Church in Evanston for Mr. Lefkow, whose death was incurred in a fashion not too different from five other people just yesterday. I felt like I needed to be 400 or so miles southeast of where I was, and the day was full of mourning.

I know, it's kind of weird to talk about the day before March 6, 2005 in this fashion, but I know that there are some people (displaced as they are) who feel they should be "there" for the victims' family and friends. All I know is, unlike Virginia Tech, I've actually been to NIU. I went out there with my dad one day, back when he used to teach a few lessons in De Kalb. And given these recent events it's hit me that the VT event was sadly not a blip on the otherwise peaceful college campus radar.

I'm not at all worried that it might happen at Olaf anytime soon. But at the same time the increase of the frequency of these events does scare me a bit. And I'd sure hate to have to be in a similar position as I was on the day before this blog's birth date should the unthinkable happen.

Eh, trust in God, I guess, so that these things stop. Especially since the nature of this latest event is totally mind-blowing.

I went to the Ole Orchestra home concert tonight (they were on tour over post-Interim break), and amid the wide and exciting smorgasbord of selections there was a dose of sentimentality midway through the evening. SMA (Amundson's "new" name) had written a piece commemorating the life of a former percussionist in the orchestra, and before they performed it he told the audience to think of everything and everyone dear in their lives while it would be played. Unintentionally, I had been reflecting over a few people previously in my life who had passed. I've been trying (struggling sometimes) to reconcile with the differences of the then vs now in terms of their presence(s) and lack thereof. So the work was a stronger memory refresher in that sense, and it also served as a reminder of where our (mine, anyway) life's priorities should be.

I also had to smile when I noticed what the melodic motive was that set off all the melodies throughout the work. SMA had taken the first and last letters of the young percussionist's first and last names, and upon hearing it I discovered that it was one different from the melodic motive I created in the "O Lord our Governor" I wrote 9 years ago ("E-C-D-G" vs "C-D-G-E").

Reality bites

So I'm having some difficulty motivating myself to come up with sketches for a percussion piece. Even though I've never written strictly for drums, et al., 'twas I and I only who decided to pursue this. Since I'm taking percussion class this semester it was an excellent chance to give this a shot as I'm learning about technique for these particular instruments. So what's keeping me from taking action?

I did push myself quite a bit in the weeks coming into my recital, which now seems like a long time ago. As a result, when I finally had that chance to exhale I probably exhaled too much (not to mention have been weaving in and out of health since then) and simply have not been motivated to do very much. I mean, I pretty much just have to pass all my classes and then get up there and collect a not-so-random sheet of paper with my name on it that says I did well enough and completed enough requirements for something to have the *ahem* privilege of not needing to pay tuition anymore (yeah, that would be my diploma, for those of you missing the dry words). And because of that, it finally and officially hit me that, darn, I'm practically in complete charge of my life.

(There are, of course, the obvious societal limitations, but I don't really think of them as such.)

Over the last few years I've always had something to do of a specific semblance, whether it was doing work for school till school was complete, or singing in choirs, or other related stuff. But now, I'm not really made to do anything anymore. Some people would treat this like the single happiest event in their life, but I'm not exactly following suit. Yes, I want to live and to enjoy life, but the structure that was always there will soon be gone. I was actually posed this very particular question twice over the last 24 hours, what are you doing this summer?, and both of my friends who asked this were very well aware of the fact that I will be done with school. I got offered to stay in a friend's home basement in Northfield for the summer. The rent is not bad, but given that I need to be looking for longer-term work, finding a job specifically for the summer might be counterintuitive to said goal (especially since my assets are in music). The point is, I want structure. Nay, I crave it, if for no other reason than the greatest periods of my life (i.e. more than just a single event) have occurred when I've had the greatest structure (not to be confused with greatest workload).

I will be spending next week working on the Ole Spring Relief trip down in Biloxi, MS for my spring break. My days will be packed literally from 6 AM to 6 PM helping rebuild buildings and lives in the deep South region where Hurricane Katrina hit a little over 2 1/2 years ago. As a result I will be working in a heavily structured environment. While some of the stuff that will happen looks kind of daunting right now, I know it'll be just fine once I get into the swing of things. Of course, a side effect is that, after tomorrow I won't be online to write any more posts for a little over a week (assuming, of course, that I post tomorrow). But I will be one with nature, one with a whole bunch of people that I will be meeting for the first time (both Oles and locals), and it will be a chance to take in something under a friendly structure that someone else provided.

When I return from spring break, I'll have my Alice paper(s) and finals, but then the road of familiarity ends once again. After that point, someone's gonna have to pave the thing, because it's never been paved before. I just hope there's a layer or two of concrete under there before they put the asphalt on top; otherwise the new road will crumble pretty quickly.