chemical reactions in your brain

So the one-night trip to Cleveland turned into a whole weekend trip stuck in Cleveland. We didn’t make it to the beginning half of the concert, the weather was so bad. But I am stubborn! Just a little and we pushed through. We made it in time for the second half which was Mahler’s Song of The Earth. I have no words. It made me cry and thats saying something. It takes a lot for music to make me cry, especially music I’ve never heard before and words that are in a different language. But it really affected me. Newfie made a good point too. There’s a difference between listening to something on a CD in your living room, where the track ends right after the music and listening to something in a live venue where the moment, the magic is just allowed to hang in the air for a moment. It was perfect.

So once the concert was over, we got back on the road, heading deeper into Ohio. The highway was fine. Well, it wasn’t great and there was a little slipping and sliding, but nothing bad. We just went a little slower and took our time. But once we got off the highway, the roads took a nosedive. There were a few really nasty spots where I wasn’t sure where the road was or if we were still on it. But I was relying on the fact that the road was straight and I was still going straight. It actually worked out alright. Until the wind decided to get in the mix. The road itself was okay. The amount of snow that had fallen vs. the amount of snow the plow had removed was okay. What wasn’t okay was the wind blowing the snow back across the road. And about then is when my car frame got hung up on one of those drifts. Newfie tried to get out and push, but the wheels had nothing to push against and neither he nor I could lift it off the drift. We’re strong, but not that strong. Thankfully, we got stuck in front of a house where the guy was still awake and saw our predicament. He came out and offered his truck and chains to pull us out. He asked where we were going and I said we were from out of state and trying to get to my uncle’s. He said that this section in front of his house was the worst. Everyone got stuck here. While he was getting the chains, another truck pulled up behind us and stopped for a bit. Then he came up next to us and said he was sorry he couldn’t help. He had checked to see if he had chains in his truck but he didn’t. He was deeply sorry and wished us the best of luck. Newfie commented that people were really friendly out here. I told him that’s because you never know who might be digging your car out tomorrow. There’s a little bit of “pay it forward.” So the guy with the chains came out and hooked up my car and got us out. He said that once we got through this stretch, we should be okay. While it was still a little interesting, we did make it to my uncle’s safely.

Due to the beautiful weather which continued all day on Saturday, Newfie and I ended up spending the whole weekend in Ohio. It was amazingly relaxing and the perfect escape. I didn’t bring my laptop or any work with me. And to top it off, my cell phone battery died. So there was really no way for people to bother me. I could just relax all weekend. Avoid anything and everything. Well, almost. My aunt cornered me about how I was doing and the fact that I needed to tell my mother about everything. I did get to talk to my uncle about my grandfather’s death a little bit too. My little cousin Kristen took a great liking to Newfie. She’s 14 and she’s got Down Syndrome, but she’s the most lovable kid ever. She would ask me to ask Newfie if he was a goofy boy. I told her that I didn’t need to ask, I knew he was. So she said I should tell him he’s a goody boy. I told her to tell him herself. And she did!! All weekend long it was “You’re a goofy boy!” or “You’re a goofy goof ball.” Newfie took it great, he just laughed and said “Yup, I am.” Kristen would laugh and laugh and start all over again. Due to the snow, everyone was pretty much locked in on Saturday. My uncle called out of work and we hung around the house all day long. We had chili for lunch and chicken with stuffing for dinner. It was the perfect winter weekend.

I got the chance to tell Newfie somethings. Well, actually, I wrote him a note. Cause I couldn’t say them outloud. It felt really good to be able to tell him some of those things. I know he has to go home. But I really don’t want him to. My aunt, Cindy, really saw that. At one point, Kevin, Cindy and I were upstairs just hanging out. Both of them were very curious about Newfie and me. Cindy was doing her auntie thing, pointing out that she really thought he cared about me and wanted to know what his intentions were. I told her we were just friends. She laughed. I explained that he was leaving and things were complicaed and it was just easier this way for right now. Later in the weekend, she was asking him about why he was leaving and what he was going to do. I found it comical because I know she was grilling him. She also pointed out how hard it was going to be on me once he leaves. She’s right. But he seems pretty determined to come back in April and again over the summer. Cindy’s dog Bear has also fathered puppies and Newfie wants one to take home. He found out that if he takes the puppy across the border while its only a few weeks old, there isn’t tons of immunization paperwork and whatnot. He really wants one, so I’m pretty sure there’s another trip to Ohio for us in the future.

Cindy also asked about Mike. I told her I saw him over Christmas but that was the last time I’ve seen or even thought of him. She seemed a little sad for me, but I told her I never really thought Mike and I were going to make it long-term. He never saw all of me. He only saw a part of me. I told her Newfie just sees all of me. He knows how important my faith is, and my music and friends and family. He may not know everything about me, but he’s not compartmentalized. He doesn’t see just parts of me. He actually sees the whole picture. I don’t know whats going to happen with me and Newfie. Maybe nothing more. Maybe we’ll never be anything more than friends. He has his faults and so do I. Neither of us are in a place right now to start a relationship with each other. Both of us have a lot of things we need to figure out. Like what we want to do with the rest of our lives. Cause neither of us knows the answer to that question.

Last night Newfie made me dinner for a change. It was really nice to just sit as he did all the work. I definitly offered, but he was pretty content just to have me sit there and bother him. We watched a little bit of West Wing, and then he put on some classical DVDs for us to watch. Yes, they are video recordings of concerts from Germany. They blew my mind and I could only think, “I can’t imagine how much more amazing this would be live.” The oboist who was playing is Newfie’s favorite, Albrecht Mayer, and he’s starting to grow on me. When Newfie asked what I thought of his sound, I said it wasn’t that bad. I actually liked it. He responded “Wow! That’s high praise from you.” At first I thought he was teasing me, and I know he was a little. But then he pointed out that I have issues with just about everyone’s playing.And he’s right. He understands that when I criticize John Mack or Ray Still, I’m not saying they are bad. Its the nuances in their playing. They are all great and I would probably fall over myself if I ever met them. But I know what I like and what I don’t like. I have that sound in my head that I want to be like. Its not the others are bad at all. Its the tiny subtle differences. So yes, saying that I actually like an oboist’s sound is really high praise. I guess I’ve never realized that before. And odd as it sounds, the fact that he likes the same sound that I like, that he notices the great things in oboes – it means a lot to me. Newfie’s on this kick to get me to appreciate modern music. I’m trying to be open-minded, and he’s actually starting to get to me. He played me this piece last night and then asked me what I thought. The short version is that it reminded me of the story of the Massacre of Glencoe. I’ve been to the Glen. Its a very eerie place. There’s this mix of simple every day living and horrible death and destruction. There’s no other way to describe it. Newfie was actually really impressed with my analysis. He said the composer wrote the piece about the comparison of the manic Western thought and calm Eastern meditation. He didn’t really get into it because he said I understood modern music more than I think. Which coming from him is high praise. He and I are both struggling with our decisions and our lives right now. After the DVD finished, I said “Tell me again, why don’t you want to be an orchestral conductor?” And he said, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” I shrugged and just looked at him. He answered, “I just don’t think its time for me yet.”

We’re both afraid of something in our music. We’re both afraid of going for something. For him, its the conducting. For me, its the oboe. Lu understands that. If I only give 95% of effort to get something, when I don’t get it, I can blame it on not trying as hard as I could. It wouldn’t be because I’m not good enough. It would be because I didn’t try hard enough. I don’t know why thats an easier pill to swallow, but it is. I can’t fully commit to anything because if it doesn’t work out, it would rip me apart. I’m constantly in damage control mode. I can only give so much of myself, because when it crashes, there has to be something that’s left to pick up. I think I compartmentalize because I’m afraid of what happens when I don’t. When I give my whole heart, I’m too afraid I won’t get it back. So I only give a little bit. I only dedicate a piece of my heart, my soul every time I play. I can only commit little pieces of me to friends and family and goals and dreams. Something always keeps me from going full out. I know its fear, its always been fear of the proverbial piano. Something unexpected and out of my control.

I think thats something about me and music. I pretend to be objective and professional. But at the end of the day, the music I play is intricately tied to my emotions. Why do I love the pieces I love? Why do I cling so tightly to certain pieces and shun others? Something clicked last night when I was watching the concert with Newfie. I love the Overture to Colas Breugnon, and The Molau so much because I played them the weekend Tim told me he loved me. I was at All-State and would sneak down to the lobby at night to call him. When I got back in town, he said he missed me so much and then told me he loved me. Forever those pieces will be linked to him and to that moment. Forever those pieces will hold a special place in my heart because of that. The first time I heard Marcello’s C minor oboe Concerto was at one of Cheryl’s end of the year recitals. Nikolai played it. Interestingly enough, he gave me my first “real” kiss, outside her house after that recital. I eventually played that piece and got into All-State on it. Now I don’t think of Nikolai everytime I play it. But its still a part of my soul, my heart. Each piece I play gets wrapped up with the emotions of that time. Handel’s Messiah is forever linked to X-Men, Nordling and Anna. That’s such a long story, but I can’t listen to that without feeling those emotions. I can’t compartmentalize when it comes to music. I can’t seperate the music from my emotions. Everytime I hear Mahler’s Song of The Earth, I’ll remember the first time I heard it, with Newfie in Cleveland. My love for that piece will be forever linked to that night with him. Even when I grow old and forget about that day, my love for that piece will be a part of my love for him.

I think that’s partly why everytime my emotions go haywire, my playing and my love for the instrument go equally haywire. I’ve never been able to sepearte the two no matter how hard I try and kick and scream. They are forever linked. Does that make me a weak player for letting my emotions control me? Or stronger for the intense emotion that gets pushed through that piece of wood? Can I make a living trying to balance out that emotion? I guess that’s just the question I’m going to try and spend my life figuring it out.

Love and other moments are just chemical reactions
In your brain, in your brain
And feelings of aggression are the absence of the love drug
In your veins, in your veins

Love come quickly
Because I feel my self-esteem is caving in
It’s on the brink
Love come quickly
Because I don’t think I can keep this monster in
It’s in my skin

Love and other socially acceptable emotions are morphine
They’re morphine
Cleverly concealing primal urges often felt but rarely seen
Rarely seen

Love I beg you
Lift me up into that privileged point of view
The world of two
Love don’t leave me
Because I console myself that Hallmark cards are true
I really do

I’m gunning down romance
It never did a thing for me
But heartache and misery
Ain’t nothing but a tragedy

I’m gunning down romance
It never did a thing for me
But heartache and misery
Ain’t nothing but a tragedy

Love don’t leave me
Take these broken wings
I’m going to take these broken wings
And learn to fly
And learn to fly away
And learn to fly away

I’m gunning down romance
I’m going to take these broken wings
And learn to fly
And learn to fly away

Gunning Down Romance ~ Savage Garden