Lollapalooza Day 2: Lace Crochet + Denim + Mint Green

Arden B long mint green open cardigan // Forever 21 lace crochet crop top //

DivaNY high waisted distressed denim shorts (c/o) // H&M burgundy floppy wool sunhat // 

Forever 21 sparkly gold and brown strappy sandals // Wet n Wild nail polish in Goldmine //
H&M/F21 gold bracelets // Erin Wasson Low Luv silver Aztec shield ring //

Photography: Marie H; last photo above jump by Karyn M.

Crop top + high waisted shorts + long duster cardigan has been a no-brainer festival fashion recipe for the past few seasons. Since it was super sunny on Saturday (Day 2 Lolla), I threw on my floppy wool sunhat though completely forgetting my shades. Lunch at Osaka sushi right across the street: 6 pieces of unagi and mango tropical roll each for less than $10. Somehow in the crowd of 160,000 people I found my friend Mike from college, Jenn Im, eventually my group, and when wandering lost I would just plop down in the grass and discover someone new: Frontier Ruckus, Reignwolf, Griz*, Family of the Year*, The National, Steve Angello. Matt & Kim was too crowded to stay, and I heard parts of Elie Goulding and Kendrick Lamar away from the crowd. Sad to have missed The Lumineers and Mumford but got a nice evening closer by The Postal Service.

Lesson of the trip: Lolla is for all-out lunatics who can stand/walk/dance/crowdsurf for 12 hours straight and then some #gettingtoooldforthis.

Click to see more pictures → → →

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My footsteps echoed as heel met hardwood floor. The gentle perspiration on my hands glistened from the overbearing lights above. I bowed low with eyes closed, to me, to my parents, to my teacher, to Chopin, to Schumann, to Bach. The black fabric of my dress dragged slowly against the cushioned seat as I slid into position. Heel pressed against ground, toes feeling the brass pedal through the soles, already hearing the rich thick voice that would ring the second I push. Hands draped delicately at the edge of the two-toned pool, I poise for the dive.

The first note splashed and painted red on the canvas of my ears. My fingers danced across hills, leaped furiously and elegantly in exotic flamenco. I breathed in the scent of mahogany, of ivory. Fingertips stroking the silky keys, every chord escaping from the music box, the strings vibrating, the hammers tapping, the music swirling and embracing me like wisps of perfume. My heart beating in rhythm with the contemporary piece I was banging out, boom boom little drummer, caged by ribs not sturdy enough to bear such dedicated pounding. Once again, I cover my eyes in red-tinged darkness and start to see the notes endlessly flowing, the woman Beethoven was courting, the moon reflected on the surface of a still pond. I feel the prick on the back of my neck, then on every inch of skin, the sensations of eyes probing, reaching, touching the music enveloping me.

A quivering chord lingers in the still air as my pinky nearly collapses with fatigue. My breath comes in shaky rasps. I press to the core of the instrument, squeezing the last bit of juicy reverberation from its insides. Finally removing the veil, I stand up and bow to the rows and rows of velvet seats. Silence is as loud as the missing applause of the audience.

My footsteps echoed to the ceiling of the empty hall.


[This is something I wrote for Visiting Writer Week in Writing 1. I think I will start sharing more of my works from now on]

Mamma Mia, Thia Megia!

Don't get me wrong, I'm no expert television watcher at all - in fact, I don't think I've ever truly followed a show beginning to finale. However, I do get on Youtube every once in a while to see what's fresh in the world (I'm too lazy to read newspapers or watch reporters drone haha).

Tonight, I came across this video after packing my brains out (the move is in t minus 30 hours!). The embed was disabled : (

I skipped through the sappy introduction and got straight to the singing. I got up to get some water and came back to hear this AMAZING voice blaring through my speakers. Confused, I took a look to make sure I was still on the same page and there she was, Thia Megia, singing her heart out. Her voice is so mature, I thought she must have been at least 18 or so. Then I scrolled back to the intro and discovered that she's only 14!? What was I doing at 14? Oh right, being angsty about high school.

Automatically, I thought of American Idol winner Jordin Sparks, who is my age (now 19). When I heard Jordin sing, I felt so inferior, so mediocre in comparison. This was the same thing all over again. She's 5 years younger than me, but her voice is a thousand times stronger. It's kind of sad to think that I'm getting old even at 19, but there is only more of this to come. The amount of insanely talented kids and young adults only grows larger, and I lag more and more behind. In all honesty though, even with training, I don't think I could ever be that good. That's just pure, raw talent right there.

However, I can't be dismayed at every ounce of young talent there is out there. It would be awfully depressing. I like to sing for fun. It's really relaxing and uplifting. When I went to church, my favourite part was actually singing hymns because it washed away all my worries and heart wounds. I've been told I have a natural second soprano range, which I probably inherited from my mother (she sang opera very well before she developed cancer). So, with loads of practice and proper training, I could have a respectable voice, but I think it'd take away the fun of mindlessly letting the music escape. Ignorance (or rather, "amateurity") is bliss! I often find that I excel when I approach learning with a can-do attitude, with no standard of "the right way to do it" vs "the wrong way" in my head. There are too many things in life to enjoy without some virtuoso telling you what floats their boat.

As I listened to the rest of Thia Megia's "There's Always Gonna Be Another Mountain" in awe, I realized that she looked like Filipino Miley Cyrus. Oh, duh. I did some Googling and saw what she was trying to show us: real un-diva-ized talent. (Sorry I'm not all hip and caught up on tweenager idol music!) I hope if she gains stardom and celebrity status, Thia can stay a dreaming down-to-earth girl unfazed by the interests of the media. Sorry to step on Miley, but this girl's got soul and deserves the limelight.

I'm a little dissatisfied that Hannah Montana monopolizes the position of today's young girls' role model. Her Disney Channel show sets up her cakewalk to stardom, though I'm not a fan of her voice at all. And what about those creepy back-up dancers on the show? The whole playing dress-up celebrity is confusing. Where's the competition? Five, ten years ago, there was a whole rainbow of pop sensations to choose from, some better influences than others, but at least we could pick our favourites. Nowadays it seems like it's Miley or bust.

Although, through this quarter finals song choice, I can tell her producers or crazy strategists are trying to set her up to be the new Miley (quite literally). Though Thia is young, I hope she can find the courage to fight against a minutely planned out rivalry and sings how she wants to. She has all the right vocal equipment, and the spirit, too.

You go, girl!

Nike

Sitting at my desk with the ceiling fan on the highest setting, my mind wandered as I read Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks. This book satisfied much better than This Is You Brain On Music, which gave a bunch of examples of bands I could not identify with and explained things on a superficial level. Musicophilia discusses how music has influenced the lives of everyone, and in some extreme cases triggered seizures and hallucinations to curing the symptoms of neurological disorders.

I was also offended by something Steven Pinker said, quoted in both books. Pinker, a well renowned cognitive scientist, claims that music is dispensible, something we can evolutionarily live without. Which leads me to think, it must take a lot of guts and patience for scientists to express their beliefs, often opposing, amongst their colleagues.

This is why I like science. Nothing is certain. What is fact? What is truth? What is absolute? Well, absolutely nothing. I may have a very naive view towards politics and the like, but black-and-white, two opposing theories, endless debating without successful rebuttal is fruitless. It does not have to be either X or Y. It can be Z or even VQ.

On page 34 of Musicophilia, I came to the realization that I'm not very special. I call myself a musician and I have a lot of passion and pride, but I do not have the talent. So what are we really meant to do? There is always the struggle between our dreams and "what we have to do." Ideally, we would all be rich with happy families and our dream job or no job at all, but life just doesn't seem to play out that way. However, I was very inspired by Randy Pausch and his determination to live out his dreams, those he had thirty years ago. I also realize, that to achieve childhood dreams, you had to have had a childhood at one point, right? Here's where I'm at a loss.

I started playing piano at age 7. Of course sitting down and going through scales and theory and boring 2 liners that your teacher demands perfection from is unbearable. I also hated being on stage, something my sociable extroverted mother could not understand. Years after the first time I sounded out "Happy Birthday to You" on my Baldwin upright, I remember being in the University of Central Oklahoma's Jazz Lab for a piano recital. My legs shook as they reached for the pedal, the notes in my mind scrambled for cover, and I was left with blank white empty frustration as my fingers met the keys. What's the use of playing music if you're not good at it?

I also blame my parents for not wanting me to succeed, spending so much money and effort forcing me to attend lessons, never allowing me to quit when I wanted to be outside in the sun, playing sports, reading useless novels, socializing. They wanted me to have what they did not, but I always thought that they were just making me compete with their friends' children.

My mother recently asked me, if I could go back to when I was 7, and relive the moment. Would I want to take piano lessons given the choice? I said no. I didn't want to feel the pain of losing again. But I did. I was forced to stop music in high school so I could focus on studying, preparing for college, getting a real job. Since I was 5, my parents both started calling me, "Future Doctor Chen." Now I attend university, taking pre-med courses, ready to become a future saver of lives. But is this the path chosen for me or a choice I made on my own? I realized during my first year that I have stubbornly ignored other options. At one point, I wanted to become an architect but I didn't like math. I wanted to be a laywer, but I didn't have enough background. So I chose to follow my father's footsteps. I thought I was so passionate about hearing. I was so fascinated by reading medical texts.

I think I still truly want to be a doctor, but question my motivation. I just seem too lazy and inactive these days. I probably can't list 5 important things I've done in the two months I've been on vacation.

For 19 years, I have been making excuses. I think and ponder so much, but don't do anything about it. In junior high it was funny to label it "procrastination" and move on with playing games and chatting online, but now I feel exceptionally guilty when I'm not enriching my mind, but so bored when I am. Ambition and naivety can be very powerful weapons, but also the seeds of downfall. Oftentimes in my life, when I have no standard of comparison, I find myself succeeding with blind confidence. I taught myself the viola after taking years of violin lessons and have much more vigour and self-esteem when playing the former. I took a senior-level course in my first semester at college and passed with one of the highest grades in the class. Some may call it blind luck, but I will label it freedom. Freedom from what competitive people tend to do, freedom from "Oh no, I can't," freedom from the whole world telling me I can't.

Because I can.

It's all in the mindset. It's all a game. Life is a big, complex but not truly complicated game with no boundaries to the playing board.

So even if I can't name 5 different things that are so-called "important," I have had long-delayed epiphanies.

Life is too short to "I'll do that tomorrow."
Just do it.