Exams And Other Things

A lot of things have been going on lately, and it doesn’t surprise me.  Around this time every semester, stuff hits the fan.  Today was no exception.

I set my alarm for 6:30 AM in order to get up early enough for some studying before my written Norwegian exam at 9 AM.  At 8:02 AM, I woke up.  Dammit…  Took a quick shower and rushed out the door without any breakfast.  Rushed to the culture center for the exam, then remembered I needed to go check out a Norwegian dictionary (no English allowed) for the test, so I ran up to the school, then back down just in time to make it for the exam.  I walked in to get my seat, only to be told that our exam was moved back to the main school building because of a listening exercise included in the test.

So all four of us in our Norwegian class (Hope, Anjuli, Kelsey and me) went up to the school and asked around until we found out our room.  After about fifteen minutes, we realized no one was coming to give us our exam.  Checked some more rooms, and nothing.  I guess there was a mistake, and it was the Introductory Norwegian course that was supposed to change spaces, not us.  Finally, they arranged a new room for us to take our test, and we began about thirty minutes late, but were given more time on account of the confusion.  The exam was much easier than I thought it would have been.  It was certainly easier and fairer than our second midterm exam was.  I finished with plenty of time left over, so I relaxed downstairs while I waited for the others to finish.

What followed was five-ish hours of waiting for the oral part of the exam.  We did some good studying, and a lot of goofing off.  It was nice to spend that time with my buddies.  I hope I didn’t annoy them too much.  The oral exam went pretty well.  I was worried that I would have to talk about a political party in Norway, but ended up telling the fairy tale “De Tre Bukkene Bruse” (The Three Billy Goats Gruff).  I knew that the teacher and evaluator would have heard that story a few times today, so I decided to switch it up a bit.  I gave all of the goats names (like Carl) and made them eat the troll instead of poke his eyes out and get fat in the pasture.  I thought it went well.

Did some grocery shopping for some much-needed food (these cupboards were bare, for sure).  On my way home, I cut through the elementary school playground, which was not a good idea.  As you can see by the pictures, the weather here has not been ideal.  These pictures are actually a bit old.  We don’t get this much sun anymore.  It snowed a little while ago, and it’s been rainy recently, which means lots of ice and some really slick slush.  I must have tripped on something in the schoolyard, but whatever happened, I ended up face first in the semi-frozen mud.  It didn’t hurt too much, and it was dark, so no one saw me… I think.

But the day has been all gravy since then.  I only have one exam and a paper to write, then I’m done for the semester.

Thanksgiving/Birthday:

I had the opportunity to celebrate Thanksgiving, which was coincidentally my birthday this year, with a bunch of international students.  We had five whole turkeys and gallons of mashed potatoes and gravy.  Tons of people brought dishes to share as well.  I had four cans of cranberry sauce, thanks to my mother who so kindly sent them.  Tusen takk!

I won the big side of the wishbone after an epic battle with Janys.  She didn’t stand a chance.  It was great to share my favorite holiday with so many people I know.  It was a nice piece of home.

Damn.  I’m 22 aren’t I?

Years For Beards:

We’re continuing to write articles for my little group project, Years For Beards.  It is a music review site, and so far it’s doing pretty well.  Things are slow with most of us in exam mode, but we’re still pumping out articles.  At least one a week.  Click here to go there.

Milk A Fat Guy:

I started another website (bringing my total number of domains up to five, I believe).  This time, it’s a comedy site.  I have these comics that I made sitting around, and I wanted to share them with people.  The name comes from an inside joke.  Dan gets it.  Like Years For Beards, I’m looking for people to make content for the site along with me.  I’ve gotten generally positive feedback on it.  New strips are ready to go up soon (possibly every Wednesday, but maybe every Sunday).  The comics will probably be aimed toward an older audience (above 18).  I think Corey might be joining me to make some strips.  I hope he does.  Click here to go there.

Support Your Scene:

I tuned in to Support Your Scene this past weekend and had a chance to talk with Ashley for the first time in a while.  Support Your Scene is a radio program on WSUM that focuses on music local to the Madison area.  This Sunday, from 1 PM to 3 PM Wisconsin time, is Ashley’s last show with Support Your Scene.  She’s been a great host, and I’d like to formally thank her for getting me into WSUM.  I will, and do, miss you, Assley.  Check out her last show this Sunday.  Click here to go to the WSUM site, where you can listen to our live stream. I’ll be back this summer with my show, Bridges and Balloons.  So look forward to that in 5-ish months.

Music:

I’ve been spending a lot of my spare time working on music, like I always do.  Recently, however, I have been happier with my music than I had been earlier this year.  Corey and I are working closely on some stuff for Pushmi-Pullyu and K. Wilhelm that is turning out great.  I’ve also created the first few [praw] tracks that I’ve been happy with in a long time.  I have decided to keep working on music for the rest of the semester and avoid releasing anything until I get back to the states.  In the past, I would have released a lot of stuff in this 10 month time, but I’ve decided it’s best to wait a bit and make some more cohesive releases.  Expect a big party when I get back home.

~             ~             ~

I’m sure there are things that I had wanted to say, but it’s getting pretty late (2:34 AM).  Now that exams are coming to an end, I’ll be able to post more.  Keep in touch – remember, you don’t need an account here to leave a comment.

Mr. Albright’s Seat

Last night, I had a wonderful conversation with my friend Kelsey, who is also studying here in Bø from the United States. We talked about writing and lots of things dealing with it. It was nice, really.

So I decided to share with her one of my plays. This one is actually a monologue, but I’m rather happy with how it turned out. As always, your comments are welcome, and you do not need to sign up for anything to leave them on this blog.

MISS LOVEHILL, a young nurse, walks on stage
pushing an empty wheelchair. In the empty
wheelchair is the invisible Mr. Albright. She
feigns his existence, never giving in to the fact
that he is not there. Soft, whimsical music is
playing in the background. The stage is lighted
in soft hues. MISS LOVEHILL is sad in a nostalgic
way. It is the kind of sadness that brings a
smile to her face.

She pushes Mr. Albright to the corner of the stage
and looks up and away. She smiles and looks
around, eye to eye with Mr. Albright. She walks
to the other side of the stage a bit, picks a
flower to smell, turns, and breathes in as though
she will speak.

MISS LOVEHILL cuts herself off, tilts her head to
the side, and walks over to Mr. Albright. She
turns his chair and walks around, facing him. She
squats so that she is eye level with Mr. Albright,
still holding the flower.

She is contemplative.

What are you thinking, Mr. Albright?

What are you ever thinking about in that head of
yours?

You’ve got to be thinking something.

All these years we’ve gone for our weekly venture in
the park, and you’ve never made a sound. Every Sunday,
just after one – me in my Sunday shoes and you – you,
in your seat.

I can’t imagine your head to be empty. I know that is
not the case. Do you know how I know that Mr.
Albright?

She smiles at Mr. Albright.

Because I see it in your eyes, Mr. Albright.

Whenever I look into your eyes -

Deep into your eyes -

I see them:

Little thoughts, swimming around like fishes in a
pond. Perhaps the water is a bit cloudy, but those
fish swim on nevertheless. It doesn’t bother them in
the slightest.

Occasionally, if I look really hard, I catch a glimpse
of a great big fish – an angry old catfish – as he
gobbles up one of the little ones.

She stands.

Here, this is for you.

She sets the flower on his lap.

It’s your favorite, Mr. Albright.

It’s a peony. I know you love them. Look at how
wonderfully shaped it’s petals have become. They are
especially beautiful this year.

Do you remember what month the peonies come out, Mr.
Albright?

We always pick them in June.

I’m sure you knew that. You don’t show it, but I see
through you, Mr. Albright.

I see that twinkle in your eye when May comes to a
close, and you know the peonies are almost perfect.

She walks around, grabs the wheelchair handles,
and continues as she pushes Mr. Albright to the
other side of the stage. All the while, she looks
at the bushes and trees scattering the park.

She takes a deep breath inward as the two stop.

I wish you could pick one for yourself, Mr.
Albright. They give such a satisfying little sound
when you pull them from the bush.

As if they were saying “thank you for picking me, Miss
Lovehill!” They don’t mind at all, now do they?
They were planted there by little faeries just for you,
Mr. Albright.

And you know what I think?

I don’t think it is really you who gets a twinkle in
your eyes when the peonies bloom, Mr. Albright.

I’ve always fancied the peonies to bloom when they see
that twinkle in your eyes.

You speak to them, don’t you? I can hear your voice
now, strong as ever.

“Smile for me, my friends.

For I cannot.

…

Turn your heads skyward,

And let the sun strike your beautiful teeth-pedals!

Do it for me, my friends.

For I cannot.

…

Spread your arms

And hug the clouds.

Fill your breath with honey and star beams!

Give them to my love, my friends.

For I cannot.”

She pauses at the thought, staring off into the
sky. She smiles, big and bright.

You are such an eloquent speaker, Mr. Albright. You
have always known how to use words like they were in
your mouth the day you were born.

No one can teach you how to speak like that.

Gentle yet strong, with a kind of sadness that makes
you smile. Such a funny way to look at the world, Mr.
Albright.

“See every day through the eyes of the grass,

And you learn quickly to avoid stepping where you ought
not to.”

You told me that once, remember?

She grabs the chair and pushes him to the center
of the stage.

The funny thing is, Mr. Albright,

I know what all those words mean,

But together they are lost on me. Perhaps I am looking
too deep for a meaning. The best stories have no happy
ending, Mr. Albright.

The best fables have no moral.

Once again, she squats eye to eye with Mr.
Albright. She smiles at him, almost longingly.

Do you know why I say your name so often, Mr. Albright?

It is because of something you told me once,

When I was a little girl.

You said to me,

“The thing people like hearing the most,

Above please and thank you,

Above God bless you and you’re welcome,

Above anything else -

The one thing people like hearing the most -

Is their own name.

She has grown sad. Very sad.

Mr. Albright.

She looks down at the ground.

I would love to hear you say my name again.

Just once, Mr. Albright.

Just once,

“Little Miss Lovehill,” you’ll say.

Just once…

Nothing. She almost weeps.

Perhaps…

Perhaps next Sunday, Mr. Albright.

Perhaps we can find our…

She cuts herself off. Nearly weeping,
MISS LOVEHILL places her head on the armrest of
Mr. Albright’s wheelchair.

Silence.

The lights go out.

Blaise Bailey Finnegan III

This man has committed blasphemy in the most beautiful of ways. To the usual superfans of Godspeed You! Black Emperor and some other bands of such lofty status, touching a GY!BE song is akin to spitting on the bible. To me, the bible is just a book, but even I – a steadfast atheist – would find that disrespectful.

You can understand, then, why my expectations for this video were not very high when it first came up in the section of YouTube’s homepage that displays videos recommended based on personal viewing patterns. But I didn’t have high expectations for a video titled “2girls1cup” either – and we all know how epic that piece of cinematic gold turned out to be.

Whether you know GY!BE or not, it’s important to note that YouTube user gihm has managed to take a near-orchestral composition by a band that claims up to thirteen past and present members and successfully condensed it into a solo acoustic piece. Other covers tackled include songs by Efterklang, Múm, Joanna Newsom and Rachel’s, among others.

This YouTube user is demonstrating something I hold very close to my heart – music experimentalism. Through creative use of arrangement and playing techniques, gihm was able to successful create a beautiful work of art that not only pays tribute to a respected band but also stands alone as an accomplishment in its own right.

When I was a senior in high school, I purchased a $70 Belkin stereo microphone for my 3rd generation iPod.

It was in response to a) curiosity, b) changing musical influences and c) seeing other “nobodies” creating sounds independently of any organization. With things lying around my basement, I recorded a song titled “The Keys Are Brightly Burning As My Fingers Slide Past.” My first music project outside of school – [praw] – was born.

My work with [praw] devoured my free time, and that project eventually spun into The Purple Paring Knife, The Assh*le Pr*ject, Pushmi-Pullyu and The Purrring Pythonsss, among other projects that I choose to forget or not mention. Since starting [praw], I have come a long way. I have developed methods of creation on several applications as well as with instruments I have no training in. To date – within the last 4-or-so years – I have created at least three hundred (300) recordings amounting to well over twenty hours of audio. I work on some aspect of recording, performing or writing almost every day. Not even moving to Norway for a year has slowed me down. I can’t help it.

These numbers are not meant to be seen as boasting. The quantity does not necessarily represent quality, though I have been happy with everything I’ve recorded and released at some moment during my development. Instead, I wish the numbers to serve as a demonstration that music creation has become a very important part of my life in the last so-many years. It was important to me before this time, of course; I was a member of band and choir as soon as I could be and stayed very involved as long as possible (college quashed that). I can say with the strongest of conviction that my decision to spend $70 on a simple stereo microphone changed my life. My involvement, dedication to and appreciation of music is greater now than ever before. I can not begin to count the friends, acquaintances and lives I have come to know because of music experimentalism.

One issue has been tearing at the back of my head for some time now. If experimentalism has become so important to me now, why was I not exposed to it earlier? Surely I could have come much farther as an artist and lay person if I had been exposed to experimentalism, say, in middle school as opposed to before moving away to college. By nature, experimentalism needs to be figured out independently, but surely someone could have pointed me in the right direction much earlier. Somebody – anybody – could have slapped a microphone in my hand with a piece of paper saying, “Audacity.” These simple clues would have been enough. But that did not happen. I had to discover my inclinations – and that many others share these same inclinations – on my own. Knowing what I know now, it seems like cruel fate; like losing something only to find it in your hand all along.

I believe that we need to change the lack of music experimentalism in public. That is, we need to “teach” experimentalism. General art classes seem to be the only places in public schools where a child is encouraged to be creative and experiment, but even then are they given often strict guidelines and are eventually judged on some qualitative basis. Our music classes certainly do not encourage experimentalism. The closest we get is the experimentalism that has become the body of jazz standards. Why is it that schools will teach jazz, yet completely forget the extremely experimental nature that jazz was and still is? There was never a class where I was told to put down the instrument I had bound myself to in 5th grade and make something new – something even avant-garde or silly at worst. Instead, I was told to read what someone had written and perfect a style of playing that was decidedly definitive.

One of this year’s most popular songs is titled “My Girls.” This Animal Collective song would most definitely not exist without a sense of experimentalism.

Mentioned earlier, jazz is a great example of experimentalism in music. I do not understand how this can be forgotten. Nor that both The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds and The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band were very experimental in nature. Their experimentation become innovation. Everything new ever has come about because of accidents and/or experimentation.

That is the way it always will be.