Mind Pollution and Resistance

After the confirmation of Betsy DeVos as Secretary of Education - a new bill has been tabled not even 24 hours later.

HR 899 is one sentence. "The Department of Education (ED) shall terminate on December 31, 2018."

Representative Thomas Massie of Kentucky is the one who created this bill, stating that: “Unelected bureaucrats in Washington, D.C. should not be in charge of our children’s intellectual and moral development.”

The segment about "moral development" is what worries me the most, especially after the election of creationist Betsy DeVos. Of course, if the bill passed she would be out of a job, but the result would essentially be the same.  An emphasis on private schooling, or the introduction of "moral teachings" in school - and in the United States - that means bringing Christianity into the school and ignoring all other religions as if they were merely fairy tales.


When looking at arguments by politicians on why they voted for Betsy Devos, or why they're backing HR 899, I see mostly the same rhetoric. Dangerous liberal schools are "polluting" young minds. One nation under God means God should be emphasized. These teachers are dangerous for our children.

While it's not quite on the same level, I can't help but be reminded of my mother, and the way that she grew up. My mother was a young child during the Cultural Revolution in China. My mother saw first-hand when it started to become dangerous to go to school. The Red Guard came and dragged teachers out of their classrooms and beat them for "polluting young minds". Schools were shut down.

My mother was taught in the basement of a library by her grandfather, alongside other children from her neighborhood. She remembers the hushed tones - sometimes waiting in darkness and silence to make sure that the guard was not near. Her grandfather loved learning, and loved books. He saved books from burning in that basement. He taught the children regardless of the risk, because he knew they had to learn.

My mother loves learning. She ended up eventually getting her bachelor's and master's degree in education, and she instilled that love of learning in me from a young age. But she rarely talks about those days, hiding away, soaking up knowledge in a secret classroom.

Every time I see a news article about whats happening in politics, I can't help but see the connections to the past. A light goes off in my head, an alarm of warning. I wish I could say that the phone calls we do have helped, but despite the volume of phone calls to the senate creating record numbers in opposition to Betsy DeVos, I can't help but feel a little bit defeated. I can't help but feel dread. But most of all, I feel the need to resist. I just hope that if the time came, I could be as brave as my great-grandfather, but mostly I hope that we do not let that ever come to pass.

I almost quit.

I know that for the past few days people have been waiting for a large facebook post telling everyone how thankful I am for coming to UW to get my degree, how happy I am now, etc etc etc.
This is the reason why I have not posted it yet. I am trying to figure out the words to politely say, but there is a dark cloud hanging over my head that I have to address before I can say anything just yet.

So I have to write this. I have to tell you, that the last two years of my life has been one of the biggest struggles with my own self-worth, my confidence, my desire to continue in the arts at all.

In short: Graduate school killed my love of music.

Don't go anywhere just yet - this is an overarching statement that I need to address in pieces.

First: I am aware that love comes from within. No one can take away your passion. Something inside me died and I allowed it to, and that is my own fault.

Secondly: Academia didn't single-handedly destroy it. It just helped along a feeling that I was already growing before I came to Seattle.

Thirdly: I still love music. But differently now.

To understand how this happens, you need context. I can't remember a time in which I was not passionate about new music - music written by living composers, that crossed boundaries and pushed the limits of my instrument. I remember my senior year of HIGH SCHOOL, where I competed in the Nebraska Solo and Ensemble: I played a piece that included timbral trills and multiphonics. I didn't even come close to "placing" - the judges thought my piece was too avant-guard. But I didn't care. I wanted to play it anyway, and was thrilled that most of my classmates came to my performance, and that I got to share this cool music with them.

When I auditioned to graduate school, when the teachers would ask me: "Do you have any questions?" I would always ask: "Can you tell me a little bit about your modern ensemble program?" I wanted to be involved. I wanted to focus on new music. When I arrived to UW, I contacted programs, I told them I was there. I contacted the composition department too, telling them I'd workshop their student's pieces. I practically threw myself at the modern ensemble saying: "Please - I don't even need to play flute, just let me be a part of this."

But they never did.

Not one single time at my time at UW did I play in the university modern ensemble.
It didn't stop me. I became involved in local professional modern ensembles - but they already had their own musicians, and I rarely got to play. I contacted composer students on my own: and made great relationships which resulted in great pieces. I joined the Harry Partch Ensemble, where I learned Bass Marimba and Harmonic Cannons, and sometimes microtonal flute. But I wanted to be recognized in this at the university. I wanted to be the "go-to" girl for modern flute. But every time I offered to play, I was told that someone else would do it instead.

I tried to work on Voice by Takemitsu, and was told to work on Ibert instead. I tried to work on a new piece involving flute and electronics, and had to play Muczynski instead. Every time I presented to work on something new and exciting, I was questioned about the worth of the piece, whether it would add to my career or detract, whether I should even bother.

And slowly, I kept getting pushed down in every turn. I began to feel like it didn't matter what I believed in, I was not good enough as a player to be involved in the world I loved.

So I practiced. I played standard works. I drilled patterns over and over and over to make my technical skills better. I spent hours in the practice room working on pieces that I didn't care for but knew I needed to learn to better myself. I had to be GOOD ENOUGH. I had to be BETTER THAN GOOD ENOUGH. I needed to show that I can do it, and I deserve it. And I began to hate.

In the meantime, I did shows with my flute/guitar duo. I traveled to Chicago, Phoenix, Denver, and even Canada. I presented strange new works at each show and felt accomplished. But I would bring this information back to the university and no one would bat an eye. No one cared. I wasn't winning national/international competitions on Nielson flute concerto or playing in extremely expensive summer orchestra festivals. I may as well have been taking a vacation on all those days as far as they cared. And so I sank further into depression. I sought out opportunities to play on my own. I pushed my way into playing Ferneyhough. I went behind the flute studio's back to play with SO Percussion.

I spent days in bed, questioning how badly I wanted to be here. Did I even deserve to do what I love? I wasn't good enough anyway. I should just quit and do something else with my life.

I made small victories. I got to play a piece with multiphonics in my spring recital. I got to play Berio in my Master's recital. But my studies always made it seem like these were just bonuses for me - I was allowed to play them, not that I should. Apathy took over in my practice and my attitude towards my flute.

But there was one thing that kept me going.

Taiko.

Twice a week, I would put down my flute, regardless of how much I felt like I needed to practice. I would grab my bachi (drumsticks), and go to taiko.

I was not good. I understood when I needed to hit the drum, but not how. I heard the rhythms but was unable to accomplish it with my untrained hands.

But not once did the team say: "Sorry, you can't play." I played on every song I could. I hit the practice drums when they played songs I didn't know. I kept working to get better, but no matter how bad I was - I could make music.

I felt the energy of the group. I found joy in our music, in being a part of a ensemble that is more like a family.

Every single weekend, I learned how to love music again. It was a lesson that I needed to learn over and over. Some days was harder than others. Sometime I would come to practice feeling as if I couldn't play music anymore, but not an hour later I'd realize how wrong I was.

I remembered that music could be fun.

Taiko is the reason why I stayed. Without it, there's absolutely no way I'd have my Master of Music degree now.

Now that I've graduated, I want to re-learn how to love the flute. I want to become passionate about new music again. I have to re-learn how to love myself, and to truly believe that I am worth it. I know how I'm going to do it. I'm going to take my attitude towards taiko and apply it to my flute. I am so excited to be able to work on myself and get rid of my self-loathing.
And of course, I'm going to taiko practice.

I wore men's boxer briefs for a day and the world didn't implode

Yes, my friends, you read that correctly. I wore men's underwear, for an entire day. The last time I reviewed underwear, you seemed to enjoy it, so now I'm back to review the underwear designed for people without periods. (if you missed it, I reviewed the underwear for people with periods here.)

Now you might be asking yourself - why? Why would you want/need to wear underwear that is specifically designed for someone that isn't you? Well I had an opportunity and I took it. An opportunity which presented itself in the form of my own laziness when it comes to laundry.

You see, I had run out of clean underwear. In my foolishness and laziness, I had allowed this to happen, and was in dire need of some clean undergarments. Enter: my boyfriend. A man who decided to buy a pack of new boxer briefs and not take them out of the package for a month. So I took one of his - brand new, straight from the package.

I wore them for a full day. I was warned by my boyfriend that I would be spending most of my time pulling them down my thighs as they have a tendency to rise up and bunch at the top of the legs. But I had a fairly different experience. So here's some good and some bad about wearing the underwear for the opposite gender.

Initial reaction:
Comfy as fuck. That being said, I had a ton of fabric - some of it on my legs. Which was super bizarre, and took a while to get used to.

Visible Fabric:
I had to determine what clothing to wear by my underwear. Not that I normally wear super short shorts, but the underwear quite literally would be visible through the bottom of my shorts if I wasn't careful. Also, the underwear came up to my friggin belly-button. No crop tops for me.

Totally Wedgie-less:
Which is awesome. Furthermore, I didn't have to pull them down at any point, the underwear never bunched up. My boyfriend and I determined that I don't have his (awesome) hulk thighs so I didn't have his problem.

Obviously designed for man-butt:
Yeah. No seriously, my butt looked like a sad, deflated grey balloon. Lets be honest here - girls' underwear is cute. Regardless of whether we're wearing it so others can see it or if we just have that knowledge for ourselves, we don't wear pink underwear covered in koalas because koalas make the undies innately more comfortable. We wear it because it's friggin adorable. Men's boxer briefs (in grey) are not adorable.

Obviously designed for...something in the front:
Also awkward. I didn't do anything with it.

Final thoughts?
There wasn't anything terrible about wearing men's boxer briefs, and they were comfy as heck. I was really happy wearing them all day, and I basically forgot that I was doing anything out of the ordinary pretty quickly.
It really comes down to preference. Wanna wear men's boxer briefs? By all means, do it. It's just clothing. Wear what you like.

Never Underestimate an 8 Year Old's Love for Cheetos

So for the past week I've been teaching kungfu/wushu at a bible camp. Not because I'm religious (in any way), but because mega-churches pay real damn good for you to babysit their kids for two hours while they learn something "culturally relevant". The class structure is quite interesting - the kids go to church for an hour, come to learn martial arts from me for two hours, and then they have 10 minutes of bible study at the end with volunteer parents. I typically warm-up during the church part, but I do hear the 10 minute section where they talk about their bit of scripture for the day.

Well during this 10 minute talk, the kids also get a snack. Today's snack - Cheetos.
The volunteer decided that today, she was going to liken Jesus to bread. Basically, she was saying that bread fills you up, but Jesus does so too - spiritually.

Keep in mind, these students are like, 7 - 11 years old. They've been running around yelling their heads off for the past two hours pretending to be Po from Kungfu Panda, and they're pretty much 100% done listening.

So upon hearing that "Jesus fills you up", one of the 8 year olds excitedly responds: "Cheetos fill me up!"
The volunteer then said: "Yes, but you'll get tired of Cheetos. You will never get tired of Jesus!"
The 8 year old thinks about this, frowns and then says: "I never get tired of Cheetos. I eat Cheetos all the time."
The volunteer, now losing her patience says: "Well, sometimes we get tired of the things we like to eat, but Jesus still fills us - " and as she's talking, the 8 year old - quite ignoring the volunteer at this point states:
"God is like Cheetos - for the world."

Cue me - trying desperately hard not to laugh. This kid had quite made up his mind about the nature of God and Cheetos as a whole. This is the point in which the parents showed up to take everyone home, and the volunteer had to stop her lecture. Cheetos won today. And frankly, if that kid loves Cheetos that much - I think his analogy was spot on for bible school.

The weird shadow that is my relationship with my mom.

Warning: If you've experienced verbal/emotional abuse, physical abuse, or gaslighting, you may not want to read this if you feel that you may find this brings back bad memories. 

I'm having trouble catching my breath.

I've never written about this before, but after what I found today, I feel like I have to say something or I'll just explode.

Back in 2011, I wrote this article, talking about my relationship with my mother and the nature of tiger moms in America. Many of you found it very informative, and interesting, and I felt like after writing the piece I had gained a better understanding of my mother. Looking back, it occurred to me that I only focused on the aspects of our relationship that fell into the "Tiger Mom" category - anything that didn't fit was thrown out. It wasn't a complete evaluation of our relationship. There was this dark strange cloud that hovered in the background, that I wasn't sure how to approach. My upbringing certainly included many aspects of the Tiger Mom phenomenon - but there was more to it.

Today, by nearly complete accident, I discovered the missing half. The weird shadow. I am relieved that I am not alone. I am terrified by the implications.

After stumbling around on the internet, my boyfriend found a reddit entitled: Raised by Narcissists - which is a support group for survivors of narcissist parents. After reading a few posts, he told me that I should give it a look.

I was dumbfounded.

It was like looking back in my own diary.

"My mother says: I love you more than anyone. I care for you the most. Do you know where you'd be if I didn't care for you? You should be grateful."

"My mother says I make my food the wrong way. If I don't like something, she'll make it for me and tell me that I've always liked it that way."

"Today, I ruined Easter."

"Today, I ruined Christmas."

"Am I just overreacting?"

"I'm thinking of running away from home."

As I read the articles, a million scenarios ran through my head.
When I was 10, my mother called me a demon child, and that I couldn't possibly be her child. She had raised me better. All because I wouldn't drink cough syrup.

When I was 15, my mother told me that I was all she had in the world. She disowned me the next day because we had an argument over something trivial.

I've been disowned 12 times.

When I was 18, my mother tackled me beside 144th st. She was screaming at me in the car. I had escaped when she was stopped at a light. I thought I had gotten away, but she screeched the car into a u-turn, drove the car off the side of the road (nearly hitting me), slammed the breaks, and than tackled me on the sidewalk. Because I had forgotten a bag in the car - this was my fault.

I've ruined Christmas more times than I can count. I can't remember a Christmas with my family where I didn't end up crying for most of the days. I learned to hate the holidays since I was very young.

When I was a senior in high school, I ran away from home. I couldn't take it anymore. My mother pleaded and guilted me into coming home during the summer (She missed me. She needed me to be home. What if something happened to her while I was gone?), but I almost cut all ties back then.

When people told me that their mom was their best friend, I honestly couldn't believe it. I couldn't imagine being friends with my mom. I had an obligation to love and fulfill my mother's wishes - I wasn't her friend. I thought they were lying to make me jealous.

I had trust issues with anyone older than 25 until I hit graduate school.

My mother constantly tells me that I need designer clothes and bags to fit her image of what I need to look like to be "presentable". She throws away my old clothes when I'm not looking.

Thing is, I never thought my mom was abusive.  I just thought that she was weird, controlling, and just a tiger a mom. But I was wrong. Turns out, there's a lot of people out there with parents like mine. And I didn't really understand it until I read this article:
6 Signs You Were Raised by a Narcissist

Aside from the section about siblings, every single bullet fit.

It's strange that this article came into my life at this time. Now that I live in Seattle, I'm farther away from my mother than I've ever been. She's still controlling in little ways - if she texts me and I don't respond in 30 minutes, she panics and sends a million and 1 messages asking if I'm OK. This sounds sweet, but not when she sends that to me at 4am.

I visit her less and less.
It keeps me sane.
And I feel like a terrible person for it. She's my mother. And I love her. She supports me, and she loves me.

But when a simple question of whether to park in one parking spot or the other can become a full blown screaming match - it's hard for me to want to be around her.

The last bullet on the list mentions that people who are raised by narcissists tend to have a lack of a sense of self, wants and needs. And as I near graduation, I find this more true than anything. I have been following my mother's wants and goals for my entire life. She wanted me to get all A's in school, so I did. She wanted me to get a full-ride to my undergrad, so I did. She wanted me to get my master's degree, and now I'm almost done. Without her goals to follow, I no longer understand what I want in life. I can't determine what is my own desires verses what she's told me is my own desires.

I feel lost.
But now, at least, I know that I'm not alone. I'm not some crazy person who made up this weird thing where my mother can love me, but still cause me harm. It's not just me.

It's a start.

I'll figure out where to go next, but it's gonna take time.

For now, I'll just breathe.

Thinx, I Review the thing for People With Periods

Okay people with dicks, I suggest you hightail it out of here before you get grossed out.

Everyone who is left - welcome. If you're here, then you understand that periods freaking suck. Seriously. Raise your hand if you have underwear that looks like sharks attacked your hind-side. *raises hand*
Raise your hand if you have pants that have dubious stains.
*raises hand*
Raise your hand if you're friggin pissed that you stained your bed-sheets, AGAIN, FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME.
*waves arms aggressively*

The morning I woke up to find yet another bloody splotch on my bed-sheets for what seemed like the 20th month in a row was the last time I decided to deal with it. This was going to end now, and it was going to end on my terms.

You see, if you're anything like me - you hate tampons. They're uncomfortable. They make you anxious (TSS isn't super likely, but it's enough to freak me out). And they're really, really effin bad for the environment.

So you tried elsewhere.

Me? I got Softcups. Which were actually, really great. I didn't feel them when I had them in at all, they were easy to use. But they leaked at night. Another stain on the bed-sheets. Not to mention - they were still disposable, and removing them was oftentimes a mess I didn't want to explain in a public bathroom.
I thought about trying the Divacup, but I didn't want to run into the same problems in a more expensive, non-disposable version.

So one night, after a fit of anger about a bloody stain on the bed, I impulsively bought a new pair of underwear. But not just any underwear. $35 underwear.

WOAH there, you say. That's some expensive knickers. Why would you do that?

Because my friends, the future of periods is here, and its expensive, but DAMN is it worth it.
Meet Thinx. "Underwear for Women with Periods."

This is some freaking luxurious underwear my friends. They are ridiculously soft. They're so comfortable, you'll want to wear them even if you're not on your period.
But here's the crazy/awesome part.
You don't need a tampon when you wear these beautiful undergarments.
Don't get me wrong, you can if you want to.
But the underwear will literally absorb two tampons worth of blood without a spill.

Ew, you say. You'll be walking around in a pool of squishy blood. It's like pads all over again. Can we not?

Nope. It's not just the website saying this, because I tried it, and its absolutely true. When they say these undies are moisture wicking, they mean it. They always feel dry. All day.

So yes, this is a pair of underwear that literally erases the need for anything else when you're on your period.

If you haven't been convinced yet, consider this.
Thinx were designed by women.
They're manufactured by a family run company in Sri Lanka that provides supplementary education and training for their female employees.
The coolest part - Thinx donates a portion of each sale to AFRIpads, which is a company in Uganda that makes reusable pads. Awesome.

Just so you know, since getting Thinx, I haven't had another spill. My only problem? I only bought one pair - that I mostly wear at night and wash in the morning (they take a LONG time to air dry). I want them for during the day. I'll be buying another pair really soon. That way, I can say goodbye to pads and tampons for good!

PS: Hahahaha I'm not a popular blog, ain't nobody paying me to say this stuff. I just thought you should know. Bloody female solidarity and whatnot.

Want to buy these amazing undies? Here's the link.  http://fbuy.me/dBidp If you use my link, you'll get $10 off your purchase! :D
For the record, I have hiphuggers so I have no idea what the other styles are like.

Edit: After so many people had more questions, here's some more answers!
1. How do you clean them?
 Hand wash, then machine wash, then air dry. It's kind of freaky because you look at the underwear and it looks like you magically didn't bleed at all, and then suddenly the sink looks like a murder scene. Then again, I only have the black ones, so maybe that wouldn't be the case with the tan ones. I intend to find out.

2. Do they feel like dipers? 
No. Don't get me wrong, they're some thick material (especially on the absorbent parts), but they definitely look and feel like regular underwear.

3. How's the coverage? 
Awesome! Like I said, I've had no more spills, so even with the weirdness that happens while I'm asleep I haven't had an issue.

In which I do something useful with my blog, and actually write about my life. In Italy.

Hey look, I decided to do something with my blog.
For the entire time I was at Flauti Al Castello, the summer flute seminar led by Sergio Pallottelli and Leone Buyse at the Sorci Castle, I decided to capture as much of the experience as possible. I decided rather quickly to blog every day I could. I was met with a minor setback when I realized I couldn't access my blog due to the rather shoddy internet, so here it is now. All of it. All at once.

I'm sorry, it's a novel.

Also, if you happen to be anyone who is suddenly being introduced to my writing since you wish to read about my experience, fair warning:
I curse.
I write with an exceptionally colorful voice. In other-words, you would not send this in to a teacher as a report. This is just me, talking about my day.
I am ridiculously blunt.

If you aren't scared yet - go ahead, and read about my adventure.

Flauti al Castello Day 1

Today was a day of infinite travel. I'm not sure where yesterday ended and today begun, so we'll just start from the moment I landed in Italy.

Airports are always the same. Really, the only real difference is which language comes first on the signs. But I gotta admit, the airport in Rome is ridiculously friendly. Even though there are obvious hustlers, trying to scam you into buying tickets for places that you don't need, if you ask them for help regardless of their agenda they're quite willing to be useful. It didn't take me very long to figure out exactly which bus to take from Rome to Sansepolcro - the city closest to the castle that I could be picked up from.

Rome, at least from the vantage point of a person on a bus, is a wonderful study in juxtaposition. Reddish tan houses scatter the landscape between lush green, but some of those houses are brand new apartment complexes, while others are ancient brick slowly decaying. It seems that in Italy, any old-ish building/wall that's not old enough to be a landmark is fair game for graffiti, because graffiti lines the walls practically everywhere. It's stunning, to see ancient Roman architecture yet directly across the street see an old warehouse rainbow splattered in bold words like "Liberte!"

Once I had arrived in Sansepolcro, I was picked up by the lovely Veronica, who at 42 years old, is the person who runs the castle. I can't imagine running a castle for a living. Seems crazy to me, but she does it with grace. After we had exchanged pleasantries, the first thing she asked me was "are you afraid of ghosts?"
Apparently the castle is haunted. By a ghost. His name is Baldaccio, who was a mercenary who died in 1441 the Medici family. His headless body just roams the castle.

As we got closer to the castle, we passed the "village" of Anghiari. It looks exactly like a town straight from Hayao Miyazaki's imagination. Just all stone, built onto the side of a mountain. I didn't realize places like this still exist and function, but here it stays, and lives. I was completely blown away.

The castle itself is also picture-esque. A step out of time, the warn hewn stone is absolutely everywhere. My room, of course, is on the top floor, which is exceptionally fun when you have a very heavy suitcase, and the stone steps are slanted ever so slightly from use. But the view absolutely cannot be beat. The mountains are a sight I absolutely cannot get over.

After meeting the thirteen students and Leone Buyse (who is absolutely lovely), my day was finally over.

 

Castello Di Sorci

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Flauti al Castello Day 2 - 3

Last night I was far too tired to write anything whatsoever, so today I'll go over some basic things.

Between today and yesterday, I must say I have eaten some of the best food of my life. Everything is local, fresh (some fruit even being from the castle orchard, where I personally picked myself some plums and apples), and delicious. Due to the traditional Italian cuisine, most of the food contains beef/pork, but thanks to the wonderful pianist William Braun (who is a fabulous person, musician, and happens to be friends with David Lang) who is vegetarian, the kitchen has made a vegetarian option for the both of us every day. Eating entirely vegetarian food is something I am not entirely accustomed to, but if vegetarian food was always this freaking delicious, I wouldn't have any problems switching over.

Local vegetable soup. Aka: Vegetarian heaven.

Masterclass with Leone Buyse and Sergio Pallottelli has been absolutely incredible. Mrs.Buyse is just a tremendously beautiful human being, and her wealth of knowledge is outstanding. Some particularly good quotes from her class are:
"My end is in my beginning" (in referring to practicing)
and the extremely eloquent
"AIR WOMAN! BLOW!"
which I believe can be relevant to the majority of flute practice.
Playing the Dutilluex Sonatine for Sergio was admittedly terrifying. Not because Sergio is terrifying, (he's not, he's actually kind and approachable) but because the piece for me is quite a challenge - I simply do not feel confident on the piece yet. That being said, William Braun was extremely kind accompanying me, considering that it was my first time with the piano, and I learned so much. I know I have much to work on in the piece, but now I feel that I have a greater sense of direction on how to practice it.

Bill Bruan. What a fantastic guy.

Both Leone Buyse and Sergio Pallottelli performed a concert yesterday night, and as much as I was blown away by the music, I admit I was so tired through the concert I had a hard time staying awake. It did not help that the concert started at 9:30pm - which apparently is standard for Italian concerts, and ended at around 11:30pm. That being said, - Mrs.Buyse's Poulenc Sonata was absolutely flawless, I had not truly appreciated that piece until she had performed it.

Today, we visited the city of Anghiari, the Miyazaki-esque town I talked of before. It's absolutely gorgeous. I explored as much of it as I could. I had my first actual Italian gelato - which was so mind-blowingly-delicious. I had a moment of: "OMG I'm eating GELATO in a WALLED IN STONE VILLAGE in TUSCANY." It was brilliant. Ps: Straciatella and chocolate is a fantastic combination. I found an incredible little graphic art store called Aut Bookshop, which had only opened 2 months before. I talked to the owner, and bought a board game that she had made herself. It's a little castle defense game, and I think it's just perfect.

Anghiari. You'd have to drag me out of there, its too perfect.

It's fucking beautiful.  Gelato > Icecream

A quick note about languages - as much as I was prepared to know some basic Italian in order to function here, I had no idea how much Spanish I would hear. Obviously, it's not because I'm in Italy, but there is a student here named Christian who only speaks Spanish. Due to this, the teachers essentially translate into Spanish every once in a while, and in order to communicate with him I have to try my best with the very very very little Spanish that I know. Hopefully by the end of this, I will have improved on both languages!

A note from future me: I didn't. Italian got better. All I can say in Spanish is Buenos Días. That's it.

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Flauti Al Castello - Day 4 - 5

Apparently, the habit of being too tired to write one day and then fine the next is a continuing trend, as I was unable to write yesterday.
Firstly, about the ghost named Baldaccio, as it turns out, all the people believe he haunts my bedroom. Which, is exceptionally fun when your roommate screams bloody murder in the middle of the night because she thought she saw a face staring at her above her bed in her sleep. Worse, according the the locals the ghost specifically haunts either mine, or Sarah's bed.

Speaking of Sarah, I would be awful to not mention that I have become rather good friends with her over the past few days. Unsurprisingly to me, I of course made quick friends with one of the youngest people in the class whose still in high school. She was the one who explored Anghiari with me two days ago (and today, but I'll get to that later), and joined me in orchard fruit picking and dungeon exploring.

This girl. The best.

Speaking of dungeon exploring, I failed to mention in previous posts that I did explore the dungeon of this castle, and it's ridiculously creepy. There are jail cells, a rather gigantic axe for beheadings, and a horrifying torture room. The torture room is overseen by a mannequin with creepy monk robes, and the room itself frankly is one of the coolest/scariest things I've ever seen.

What. The actual. Hell. Is. This. Room.

Yesterday though, we went to the town of Sansepolcro, the town that Veronica had originally picked me up from to take me to the castle. Since there was an arts festival going on, we had expected more people, but forgot that since it was Sunday, everything was basically closed except for the churches. That being said, the churches were extremely beautiful. I fell in love with a series of statues in one church that appeared to be flying above a painting, up into a window on the ceiling.
Although sight-seeing was fun, we actually came to Sansepolcro with a purpose. We performed trios and quartets outside of a little restaurant where we later had (a delicious) dinner. Sarah, Jeanne (a fantastic flautist from New York), and myself played two very cute dances, a tango and a samba. During the tango, Sergio and Jordan (one of the other younger students) started "dancing" a tango, which was so ridiculous that we nearly all stopped playing from laughter.

Picture taken right before we lost it from the dancing. Thank goodness.

This morning, we went back to the lovely city of Anghiari, where it almost immediately started pouring rain. We stayed inside shops as much as possible where I kept attempting to use my credit card. Now, I have a very nice normal credit card that I use at home, but my parents made me get a new card specifically for Italy that doesn't have foreign transaction fees. What my parents didn't know, is that my credit card ISN'T ACCEPTED ANYWHERE. Don't get me wrong, not having foreign transaction fees is nice, but it's not really that helpful when I can't have foreign transaction fees because I CAN'T MAKE FOREIGN TRANSACTIONS. I'm trying desperately not to spend what little euros I have on anything but food, but when you find stuff (like the gorgeous infinity scarf I am currently wearing) that you can only find in Italy, it's almost impossible not to buy when you're stuck in shops due to rain.

Sarah and I decided to visit the Museo Palazzo Della Battaulia, which is an adorable little museum dedicated to the history of Anghiari. The museum had some really incredible things in it, ancient copper coins, pottery from the second century, a book from the 1600's, beautiful frescos, paintings, and the history of the Battle of Anghiari and the lost DaVinci painting that he made of the battle. Sarah and I, being geniuses, decided to explore the museum garden, despite the fact that the doors were rather hard to budge open, the handles were red, and it was raining outside. After we had thoroughly investigated the rather small, but beautiful, garden, we returned to the doors to find that they were both:
A. Locked.
B. Only had handles on the inside, not on the garden side.
We were quite effectively locked into the garden with no hope of escape, besides a gate that led to the main streets. Now unfortunately, the gate's opening mechanisms had rusted to shit, and they wouldn't budge an inch. So we banged on the door. Nothing. We found stairs to the upper level. Banged on the door. Nothing. So finally I saw some people walking by the gate to the street.
Me: "ahhhh, scusi? Scusi!"
Passerby: 0_o ?
Me: "Ummm..." *shakes garden gate* "stuck! Museo?"
Passerby: *nods vigorously*
About a minute later, one of the museum workers came to the door and opened it, laughing and saying that it was alright. We were pretty embarrassed.
Admittedly, it could have gone a lot worse than it did, but we were alright.

By the time we got back though, I was freakin exhausted.
I ate lunch quickly, and came back and took a 20 minute nap. Probably one of the best naps I've had in a while.

Unfortunately, I was still ridiculously tired during masterclass, so I was quite glad when Bill (the Pianist) asked me to turn pages for him. Otherwise I am 90% sure that I would have fallen completely asleep.

I finally ate meat today, being turkey. Not going to lie, I missed meat like crazy. Since I left the US, all my meals have been of the vegetarian variety since most of the meals served had either beef or pork as the main entree. The kitchen staff have been kind enough to make vegetarian versions for myself and Bill though, and they've been incredibly delicious.
Speaking of delicious, limoncello is not. Limoncello is some extremely strong lemon flavored alcohol, and while I enjoy the lemon-y aftertaste, the initial extreme burning in my throat and watering eyes are not worth it. I had less than a shot before I decided I was quite done with it.

Note from future me: I had it again in Venice. This time is was delicious. I don't know why. Magic?

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Flauti Al Castello - Day 6

I honestly cannot believe that I've been here for nearly a week. The fact that I will be leaving here in a just a few days is something I haven't quite wrapped my head around. I have made some fantastic friends, and I have learned so much. Not to mention, having a very regular schedule has been a wonderful thing for me. As a person who tends to sleep in until 1pm do nothing all day, do a bunch of useless things in the evening, and then go to bed at some random point, with sometimes forgetting meals, having a regular schedule has been a new experience. If there's anything I'd like to keep doing when I return home its:
A. Eating 3 meals a day. That are hopefully not crappy. (They're absolutely amazing here.)
B. Practicing. Often. Throughout the day.
C. Getting up and going to bed on a NORMAL schedule. Not necessarily this intense go to bed at 1am and wake up at 7am though.

This morning, I played the Bach b minor sonata for Ms.Buyse, who had quite a lot to say. I recorded the lesson, so that I can take notes later. I really had to think about space between my notes and I realized I was actually very technically inaccurate about my 32nd notes. Even after a year of working on it, I still have so much more to learn and work on.

I have SO MUCH WORK TO DO.

By the second masterclass of the day, I was already exhausted. Apparently working with only about 5 hours of sleep per day eventually catches up to you, because I kept nodding off during class. After the class was over, I came back to my room and passed out. Seriously. For two hours. I nearly missed dinner as apparently Sarah and Carmen had a hell of a time trying to wake me up.

Because I'm immature as hell, one of my favorite things about the castle is that they have a swing attached to a zip line. So whenever we can, Sarah and I run over and zoom around. The weather here has been incredibly moderate due to the rain we've been getting, so the zip line is absolutely phenomenal.

Also, I forgotten to mention the dogs. Since the owner/managers of the castle both work and live here, so do their dogs. There's two dogs, Polly and Dick(a? Not sure whether his name is Dicka or if they were trying to tell me Dick.) Dicka is a great old german shepherd,  who rarely barks and enjoys laying outside in the sun. Polly on the other hand is an adorable small dog who enjoys barking whenever she can. Polly is black and white, and super soft, but I haven't quite figured out what kind of dog she is. Both dogs though are just as sweet as can be.

Polly!

Dick(a) ! What a sweetie.

Here's a few more things about Italy that I've forgotten to mention so far.
1. The toilets. Apparently the water tank is suspended in the wall high above the toilet bowl, and you pull a tab down to make the water go. I'm not sure though if that's a standard thing in Italy or if that's just what this area does. I guess I'll find out when I go to Venice on Saturday.
2. Getting olive oil to dip your bread in is not an Italian thing. Apparently that's Americanized Italian food.
3. Dinner is LATE. Dinner typically starts around 8-8:30pm, and people tend to stay out and socialize past 10pm, even the kids (without parental supervision!).
4. Wine is served at both lunch and dinner, and there's a special wine for dessert.
5. I've had actual Italian Spaghetti, Ravioli, and Pizza now. The pizza was the only thing the US came close to (as far as authenticity goes), and the pizza I ate had no meat, but giant slices of zucchini and eggplant on them.
6. Italians are SERIOUS about their espresso. It tends to be drank after almost every meal as well as with breakfast.
7. Cars. It's like all of Italy is in a "who can drive the tiniest car" competition. So far, I've only seen one truck (parked) in Rome, but none here. Every vehicle is extremely compact.
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Flauti Al Castello - Day 7 - 8

Once again, I shirked my writing duties last night in favor of sleep, so I'll catch up today. Here's some fantastic things that occurred yesterday:

Immediately following breakfast I had a bout of immense drowsy-ness, so I laid down and attempted to sleep for about 10 minutes. While my roommates were practicing. Regardless, it didn't last for long because after I while I started to hear them panicking.
Let me back up two steps. At night, we leave the windows open so that it can be cool, and them close them during the day in order to avoid our room being filled with the Tuscan sun. And apparently bees.
See, it was still the morning, and we had not yet closed our windows mostly because I think we had forgotten. At any rate, the open window meant that anything could fly in if they wanted to, and so a GIGANTIC bee decided to do just that.
The bee was on the ceiling by the time I had realized what was going on, and from what I could see he was a little over an inch long. My roommates shrieked whenever it flew by them, and one was asking the other if they had anything to kill it with.
Now normally this wouldn't bother me at all but I was GODDAMN TIRED. And I knew that this would continue if something didn't happen. At this point, the bee had landed and taken up residence on a spot on the curtains. I decided to take action.
With all the zen poise I could muster, I grabbed a plastic cup, and slowly walked over to the bee, while my roommates freaked out about my actions. With the calm serenity of a Buddhist monk, or a dead-tired zombie student, I placed the cup near the bee, and then in one fluid motion, scooped it into my cup, brought it around the curtain, and it flew out of the cup and out the window. At that point I was feeling rather accomplished and proceeded to return to my spot laying down on the bed.

Another fantastic thing that occurred yesterday was the orchestral excerpt masterclass lead by Leone Buyse. I learned a great deal, but I must admit that I felt a little stupid afterwards. I had chosen to play an excerpt that I needed a GREAT DEAL of help with, the Til Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks by Strauss. I was not nearly as sure about the rhythms as I thought I was, and my technique was sub par. As much as I am glad to have gotten help on that killer excerpt, I feel that in the class I have not yet put my best foot forward and the week is nearly over. The Dutilleux was nice, but still in much need of help. The Bach was fairly good, but not amazing. And the orchestral excerpt was just plain bad. Had I had a second shot, maybe I would have played a different excerpt. That being said, I REALLY needed to learn what I did on that particular excerpt.

Something not so fantastic but kind of still fantastic - I finally visited the Sunflower field yesterday. I cannot tell you how beautiful it was, it's just truly stunning to see rows upon rows of enormous sunflowers. The sunflower field was surrounded by tobacco fields, which were also beautiful. I had wandered down to the fields with Sarah and Alfredo (a 37 year old math professor from Spain), and when we returned to the gate to the castle, it appeared that the gate was locked. I found that the chain had merely been wrapped around it and that the lock was just hanging off of it loosely. Once we were on the other side of the fence, I tried to replicate the original set up, to no avail. Alfredo took the chain from me, fixed it, and then accidentally closed the lock.
Sarah, Alfredo and I had gone down to the sunflower fields FIRST. The rest, all 10 of them, and left after us. We has passed them by on our way back to the castle. We had essentially just locked them out of Castello grounds.
Alfredo and I went to go get help, while Sarah met people at the gate and basically explained the situation. Eventually, we found that if you climbed a GIGANTIC hill from the fields you could make it back up to castle grounds, but the climbing group was not thrilled about it. I was just thankful they could make it back.

Let me just make one note about food from yesterday - I got to eat DUCK, which is one of my favorite foods ever in the world. I honestly had no idea that Italians eat duck though, thanks to my not-so-broad culinary pallet, I was under the impression that duck was a mostly Asain meal. I am very pleased to be wrong in this aspect.

This morning, I actually managed to fall back asleep after breakfast. I suppose that 30 minutes meant the world, because I wasn't tired for the rest of the day. It's amazing what a nap can do.

Speaking of breakfast, I forgot to mention that breakfast is not nearly as big of a deal here as it is in the USA. We have our choices of breads, yogurt, nutella or jam, biscuits, fruit, and sliced meat. But the coffee is really the star of the breakfast table. You won't be finding omlettes or bacon here. Very simple foods for the morning. I personally, ADORE the breakfast here. I've had a croissant, yogurt, plums, kiwi, and  tea for breakfast every day, and I feel fantastic afterwards and not bogged down like eggs/bacon/and toast breakfasts.

I miss this breakfast already. So much.

Forgive me that I write about food often, but food culture here in Italy is vastly different from in the US. For example, vegetables (including salad), are always considered a part of the main course. So it is common to have an appetizer, then pasta, followed by your main meat dish, THEN your salad before dessert. And frankly the food is so good here it's hard to not talk about it.

This is partially because it's really freakin fresh. For example, the orchard. Today, we had some extra free time so I took a trip (in the rain!) down to the orchard. I picked: 2 perfect apples, 2 very unripe pears, a bunch of small orange plums, and 2 beautiful purple/blue plums. This was only because I was feeling hungry post masterclass and wanted a snack since dinner was late tonight. I've decided that grocery stores are extremely overrated.

Why yes, those fruits are sitting on my poor towel that was slowly being dyed blue from my hair.

Speaking of the rain - it rains a surprising amount here. I had imagined it to be a lot like Texas, hot, dry, and with little rain. But it's rained about once every other day, and it doesn't drizzle, it downpours. And it comes seemingly out of nowhere. The weather will be gorgeous one moment and soaking the next, although if you're careful you can watch the rain come from the mountains.

In fact, it was still raining when the first of the two final concerts started in the evening. I was pretty excited to just sit there and listen to the amazing music, but I ended up being the page turner for Bill Braun. Which, was actually fantastic. Not only did I get to listen, but I got to see him do his magic up close, and I got to see the scores as the music was happening, which is one of my favorite things to do. The whole concert was such a wide variety, I really enjoyed the program.
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Flauti Al Castello - Day 9

What an insane day. It started with me completely sleeping through my alarm. I was so mad! I woke up 30 minutes later than I'm used to, so I was pretty late to breakfast.
Not too soon after breakfast, I went to masterclass where I played the Great Train Race by Ian Clarke for both Sergio Pallottelli and Leone Buyse. They were so helpful with my extended techniques! I'm very excited to work on it more. And apparently I got the "train idea" down pretty well, so I'm proud of myself for that. I was complimented several times by different people about how well my performance was, so I was feeling very confident and proud of my work.

After masterclass and lunch, we had the chance to return to Anghiari for one last time. I was so excited, we managed to see BOTH museums in Anghiari, and this time I didn't get locked in a garden! The museum building we went to today was ancient and stone, it was practically a museum piece itself. I tried pistachio and coconut gelato, which as much as I love pistachio ice cream (gelato I'm still on the fence about. It's not as sweet!), I loved the coconut gelato so much more.

Gelato. Hell yes.

I ended up being one of the last people being picked up from Anghiari, which gave me very little time to warm up for the final concert of the week. I started the concert with Train Race, and although the beginning went fabulously, I fucked up the middle so badly it made me want to cry. And I did (post concert). Luckily for me, I have EXTREMELY sensitive, wonderful, and kind friends and teachers here, so they made me feel a lot less awful about my screw-up. That being said, I wish I had recovered better from it. I felt that I sold the beginning but not the ending one bit. Next time, I need to just put the mistake away and keep on trucking. The rest of the concert was incredible though. There is so much talent in the group that came this year, I basically spent my entire time here in shock. In some ways, it makes me feel inferior. In others, it makes me incredibly, ridiculously inspired. I want to work on EVERYTHING now, and take bits an pieces of each performer in my own sound to create something beautiful.

 The whole gang's here.

All in all, my experience at Flauti Al Castello was a blast. I believe I learned a great deal about Tuscany, the culture, the food, the language. I also learned a great deal about myself as a musician and a person. I cannot stress enough how glad I am to have participated in this seminar. For any of you fluties reading this blog and wondering if you should do it next year, the answer is YES. DO IT. You won't regret it!

Buon viaggio!