Musings of a non-Poet

I have decided to write my blog today because my writing skills seem to be quite unpredictable as of late. I just wrote a 5 page paper on Welsh National Identity in a couple hours, as the words seemed to just flow out of me. Yesterday was not so wonderful. During an art history journal, my response to the prompt “Why was the title of the Surrealist exhibit ‘Poetry and Dreams’ appropriate?” was “So much of Surrealism can really be summed up by two words: Poetry and Dreams. That’s why it’s appropriate.” Realizing that I was at the height of wit, I parted ways with my homework and decided to listen to opera. Oh the days when listening to opera was my homework: I miss you!

On a different note, I realize that by now I must sound obsessed, but it’s because I am: I am endlessly fascinated with social anthropology! In other words, I find the endless differences between English and American culture fascinating. My poor boss is subjected to my endless stream of observations and questions about social rules: I approach everything from driving to swearing as if it were the seminal part of my cultural immersion. The class system, which is so rigidly in place here, never ceases to bewilder, and don't even get me started on accents!

As mentioned earlier, I’m finding out how American I am. Even in the coffee shop where I am sitting now, I watched from afar with American horror as a very European family had lunch. The family ate carefree as their youngest child bounced on the chair, chips in mouth and hands, drool oozing out of her mouth and covering her front. The over-protective American childcare worker inside of me wanted to rush to the child, place her on her bottom, wipe her little facey clean and frantically explain the dangers of choking, falling, bad manners, head-trauma, paralysis, and death while complaining about the lack of seat-belts for children at coffee shops. Luckily, I did not interfere and was amazed to find out that no tragedy occurred in such a danger-filled situation.

Living in such an amazing city is so surreal. One day I'm at a concert at Wigmore Hall, where anybody who's anybody has performed. The next day I'm inside the Royal Festival Hall, but I get to see it from the stage first instead of the audience, because I'm performing in a choir there. I stop at a free museum on my way home, and hey, there just happens to be Raphaels, Durers, Monets, Van Goghs, Picassos, not to mention that Arnolfi Wedding we all learned about back in high school. I've started to toy with the thought of a long-term relationship with this city, but right now it is only toying. (Stop freaking out Pop and Amy, I didn't say I was moving here. yet.) Though when the CEO of my internship asked how they could keep me after December, I said "Well, you could pay me."

In the mean time, each time I go on facebook seems to be an opportunity to discover another high school friend is engaged. What the heck guys? Well, I should say girls, as I have yet to hear about a guy friend who is ready to jump into a life-changing commitment, knock on wood. Seriously though, I wish you the best of luck, and I will try to make it to the weddings that I can, but in the meantime I'm working on perfecting my already refined skill of bachelorhood.

At my job, which seems to be increasingly more awesome each day, they decided that they wanted to join me for their first ever American Thanksgiving. I wish I could describe the childish glee the artistic director and the CEO got when I told them the "essentials" for the menu. They seemed nervous about this foreign use of pumpkin and have decided that the meal should include Christmas pudding. "Pudding" does not seem to have a direct translation as it in no way means our version of it (you know, the thick milk stuff), but rather it seems to refer to dessert in general. As British food is always hit and miss, we'll see how it goes.

Oh, did I mention I'm going to Venice next week? Otherwise, I send my love!

Confessions of a inconsistent blog-writer

My apologies. I have been getting progressively worse and worse at writing these blogs. I could offer a paragraph of legitimate excuses, but I won't. Maybe it has provided a necessary break--apparently even my grandparents has been filing complaints on the length.

Some wonderful things have been happening in my life as of late. Really wonderful things. My anxiety of housing has finally ended as I've seemed to found a wonderful new house to live in upon my return to PLU. Also, my goal for this whole trip was to get some direction, in terms of career, etc. I'm excited to say that I think it is becoming more and more clear what I want to do. I have realized that I'm miserable without a piano. Sure, I function, I can do other work well, but really, the hours I spend chained to that horrible black monster within the claustrophobic 4-walls of my practice room are apparently necessary for my existence. So I simply have to do a job that keeps me out of the office and on the piano if there is any hope for long-term happiness. Which means I'm planning on going to graduate school and doing some degree which will keep me further chained to the monster. I had done some hard-core flirting with programs like Teach for America and Jet Teach, seduced by the prospect of eliminating my college debt and teaching for a couple years. But after 2 months of a break from serious music-making, the thought of 2 years of further self-inflicted torture seems unbearable. I'll just have to find a way to support myself making music.

On a slightly different note, let's talk about addictions. I definitely went to the wrong country to end mine. I love tea. LOVE tea. And England is pushing this to new limits. In fact, at this point in the blog I'm already on my third cup of tea. But the English love it, and I love it, and I love the English, and I love it when the English offer me tea. And besides, three cups of tea within the course of 20 minutes is really not unusual in this country. In fact, I don't think I've worked at my internship more than 2 hours without there being a round of tea. But there was this tragic day a few weeks ago. I arrived at school, and naturally went straight to the kitchen to turn on the kettle (yes, tea is always on stock at school.) To my horror, I discovered the kettle was broken. I was inconsolable, though only 1 or 2 of the other Americans could understand why. Naturally, my British teachers equaled, if not surpassed my state of panic. The kettle was fixed a few days later, and life could return to its healthy caffeinated state.

Tea is just another reason to love London out of countless others. Yesterday I was riding the train into Victoria Station, and right when we were crossing the Thames I realized how much I love this amazing city. It is so vast, so huge, so unconquerable. Each time I discover a new place I'm intrigued by the sub-culture of the borough, of the neighborhood, sometimes even of the street. When I stick to familiar places, I discover more and more, because there is simply so much to see even within the microcosm of an alley. For a small-town boy who thought Tacoma was the big city, London is like the endlessly vast Roman Empire. As I walked out of Victoria station, I looked around. The people, the energy, the opportunities that this environment offered, it all made me so happy. I can see myself here long-term, if that's what God has in plan. As I walked from the station, I just happened to pass Buckingham Palace, because almost always sights like that get in the way when going from A to B. Incredible

Though the further away I get from Northwest America the more I realize how patriotic I am. Don't get me wrong, I'm not ready to fight and die for the US; pacifism still reigns sovereign. But I really love little things about the states. Currently I miss good customer service, something that is extremely rare here. But enough reminiscing.

An overview of what I've done lately: Wales--country walks, open air, more sheep than people, best hostel of my life. Canterbury--beautiful, small, got to watch the choristers rehearse, meet the organist. Next week is the first concert for the orchestra, and now I have to head off to the first rehearsal!