"y todo, como el diamante, antes de luz es carbón..."

untitled.

2010-11-12T06:03:00.000-08:00

under the setting sun, we
shared our thoughts and memories
you kissed me until i
drew a breath and began to cry
for the things that i had seen, they
broke my heart and took my breath away
until you came and kissed me free
and breathed meaning into me.

imperfection.

2010-11-09T03:22:00.000-08:00

Imperfection might be the reflection of

Scintillating smooth ripples of butterflies

Melting warm on my tongue

Hot bullets shooting outward like a raging fire against

The roof of my mouth on every pressured breath

Maybe crying slippery crystal tears that fall, tinkling like

Small silver bells carried, jostling, in a quart berry basket

Maybe laughing wide because of the tricks yet to be played

Capers gone unnoticed amongst a fury of suspicion

Selling an unsuspecting hen a lottery ticket

...Faking an utterly perfect egg

...Advising a captured balloon to freedom

...Pretending that the tail isn't mine

...What tail?

Maybe rolling over sleepily on a bleary winter morning

Shrinking to the size of a pea wrapped in a cozy pod of down

Drowning in an intense apathy for fiercely brushing

My tooth with a thrice-sharpened axe of ancient toothbrush fame

Maybe dreading the future keeps me snuggled and afraid

Of the weary children slaving on Saturdays trapped

Beneath a hot, bright, noisily shining Sun that somehow

Is a little farther than over there

. ..A little longer than forever and a day

...A little faster than the raging wind

...A little more perfect than nothing

...And everything -

Is hanging in anticipation of the rain crashing down

Maybe sloshing against the wet and heavy air

Washing clean the scratchy thoughts and dust collections

Of imperfections from my hair

shiver.

2010-05-21T13:58:00.000-07:00

i am disappointed, more than i can say
i'm trying to explain, but words are getting in the way
i am sadder than i have ever been, today -
stumbling, shivering, down memory lane..
where the words are hollow and the colors grey,
where the laughter is missing and in its place
is this silence that we have made
a stillness in which my heart silently breaks
with the knowledge that there can be no escape
from who we become and what we create.

you raise me up to more than i can be...

2010-01-27T12:04:00.000-08:00

when i am down, and oh, my soul so weary

when troubles come, and my heart burdened be

then i am still and wait here in the silence

until you come and sit a while with me...

i miss you, achacha.

the memory of you makes me stronger.

love, always.

untitled.

2009-08-20T03:38:00.000-07:00

suffer at my side
we'll make the same mistakes
learn the lessons well
and make the mistakes again
break your misery down
honey, tear it right up
put the pieces into this paper cup
toss it in the sink
and just think about this...

the window is open
the sunlight is fading
and nothing is making
any sense anymore

but we stay silent
because that's how we like it
there is no reason to fight it
as we lie on this floor

well honey, i am ashamed
and i am sadder than i feign
but there is no need to explain
you are all i'm looking for.

stay beautiful...

2008-11-04T05:00:00.000-08:00

"if you and i are the story
that'll never get told
if what you are is a daydream
i'll never get to hold
at least you'll know...

you're beautiful
every little piece, love
and don't you know
you're really gonna be someone
ask anyone...

and when you find
everything you looked for
i hope your life
leads you back to my front door
oh, but if it don't...
stay beautiful..."

i'm waiting for our moment.

currently: wistful.

name that tune!

2008-07-09T03:21:00.000-07:00

the one in the address of my blog; starts with the lyrics no i would not sleep...
sans google (and other forms of outside help), if you please.

oh, and while i'm at it - let me make a shameless plug for www.howtodoitwrong.blogspot.com. it could do with a bit of readership. =)
--

i walk home alone with you
in the mood you're born into
sometimes you let me in
and i take it on the chin
i can't get clean again...
i want to know,
can we get clean again?

--

currently: barefoot, sleepy, wistful, slightly restless

i know why the caged bird sings

2008-06-12T10:04:00.000-07:00

the door slammed shut, the noise ringing long after the finality of the action was driven home.

she stood shivering just inches inside the room, her bare feet soaking in the biting cold and carrying it to her arms and legs. barely still, as her emotions spun, chaotic. fear. anger. disbelief. hope. it was this last that made her turn around to look at the door once more. but the door remained in reality, unswayed by the fleeting hopes of the human heart. back was not an option.

so,
forward.
white, white - all around her white. white walls, and floors, white ceiling; pale glass at the windows, frosted from the winter cold. outside - snow, and clouds - frozen white.

the first hours were the hardest. she walked around the edge of the room, pacing at first, then slower and slower, but her mind refused the message, the thoughts racing - her heart beating furiously in her chest. plan after plan - escape, acceptance, revenge - made and inevitably tossed away.

when she sat down, her back against the wall - not in a corner, for no corners of comfort existed in this cold, circular, white room - it was resignation. sinking, cold. when she leapt up again to walk to the window and press her nose against the frosted glass it was - she didn't know what it was. or why she did it, just that she must. when she turned away from that window, it was despair. pure and simple, cutting.

when she wept, it was tears of glass - crystal, clear. fragile they were born, and fragile they fell - shattering silently against the polished floorboards. released, they lay - tiny gleaming, colorless pools reflecting the emptiness of the room.

the days, or perhaps they were hours, she couldn't know - passed. she cursed herself, her thoughts which let her be, deceptively silent in sleep, and tore at her, making up twice over for every second she was awake. she cursed the daylight for an unwelcome companion during the day, forcing her to face herself, and cursed it for abandoning her at night. she slept, she woke, she thought, she felt, she screamed, she slept.

then came an hour, a minute -
perhaps early morning, or afternoon or late evening,
she had lost track - the measurement meaningless.

suddenly, a precise point in time which slowed, and slipped into eternity. she treasured the silence, the stillness of the space in between each heartbeat. freedom, felt in the loss of time. unfettered. everything was of importance, and yet, nothing was. nothing at all.

and so in that moment she stood, in the center of the white room, painting pictures with her mind before the sound of a beat leapt up to wipe them clean. every picture painted in total clarity. again, and again - create, erase, create - listening, painting, feeling, shivering, entranced.

walking forward, she lifted her hands - cautiously, hesitant - to rest them against the walls.

when she breathed in - sharply, shallow - her breath drew comfort from the air, the pain reminding her of existence and realities, of fear and heartbreak, tangible and inescapable. with her fingers she traced designs on the smooth surfaces around her, her eyes closed and her mind free.

picking up a brush, she dipped it in paint and began - blues and greens, cold, cool, and warm. cerulean skies and indigo seas, dancing girls with sea-green hair and bright blue eyes. stars and silver, spun into pictures of hope and dreaming, wistful, ecstatic. gold and cream, buttercup yellows and molten oranges, shimmering, sunlight and sunsets, beautiful melodies and lazy summer days.

slowly, she painted the world onto the walls, her eyes closed, the brush held light in her hands. smiling, swaying to the music of a thousand orchestras, lilting strings and haunting harmonies - browns and golds, sepia, amber-bright, autumn breezes and children's laughter - she painted happiness and love, smiles, bright.

quickly, she painted, and at times the colors faded, lost their life - slipped into sorrow and loss, shadows. and in her mind, the music became louder - a slow crescendo - greys and whites and pale blues became darker, deeper, black, purples and reds; anger, fury, hate, screams, despair - she painted them out furiously onto her canvas, faster and faster. her brush became a blur as it spat out turmoil in a hundred shades red and grey. harder, faster, until she grew tired, until she painted it all out, laid it down on the walls around her - until, inside her, there was nothing but stillness.

acceptance.
slowly she stepped back, and slowly she opened her eyes.

white. emptiness. the walls wiped clean.
her hands, empty. no traces of paint.
her thoughts, empty. no traces of feeling.
finally at one with the surroundings.

in the center of the room, she stood in silence.
the infinite moment passed,
and she lay down on the cold, smooth floor,
closed her eyes,
and slept.

for the one who knows what i'm talking about.

2008-05-13T02:58:00.000-07:00

do you feel like i do, tired of everything?

can you feel what i can, almost everything?

i want to leave today

the sky is big and my life is small

i want to leave with you...

a pause in the heartbeat of time.

2008-05-13T02:25:00.000-07:00

we all have those moments in life where there's a stillness...
a complete, unasked for, inescapable pin-drop silence that resounds...
where nothing in your life seems tangible, where nothing you were sure about seems quite so certain.

and when you find yourself in those little still pools, moments where you are forced to just be, sit in the middle of a room and face the fact that these four walls are all you can be really sure about...
then, then there's no space for anything but you and your thoughts.

a pause in the heartbeat of time,
with nothing to do,
no one to be.

look back on everything that was and look forward to everything that could be, that should be...

i don't know what i want.
usually i'm good at keeping in tune with the fact that i've changed, but i've slipped up a bit this time.
death has changed me. being confronted with the evidence of my weaknesses has changed me. the sudden realization of time running out, having been wasted, having to be made up, has changed me. a friend lost and a friend gained.

maybe i do know what i want.

its simple, really.
i want my goals, i want to be good, and i want to be happy with myself again.
i want to be there for the people i love.
that's all.

i want you - cinematic razor sharp
i've missed you.
missed the smiles, the laughter, history quizzes...the music.

i want you - my best friend. i wish i could relive march 24th. there's so much i wanted to do.

i've tried being cynical.
i've tried saying i just don't have enough to give.
frankly, it sucks. its practical. its logical.
and it makes me utterly miserable.

not only that, it hurts people that i can't bear hurting.

i give up and give in, look for forgiveness.

happy birthday

2008-02-26T12:38:00.000-08:00

fathers, be good to your daughters
for daughters will love like you do...

i can only hope i'll make someone else that lucky.

you're the best, papa.
i love you.
happy birthday.

the v factor

2008-02-09T23:36:00.000-08:00

for people who know who they are.

--

v - you're doll. the only person i would let read my diary front to back and not be worried it has anything she wouldn't already know. considering how private i am with my thoughts, its stunning to me that i can say that. you're my best friend. crazy; spontaneous but at the same time, so so very not. incredibly mature - so much so you can ask yourself to be naive. the bravest and most vibrant person i know. to me your face is an open book and you lie very badly, especially when you're forcing yourself to be noble. give it up already =). you've got a capacity to be completely honest with yourself in a way i've never seen before. it means you're often harder on yourself than anyone else would be. but thats okay. to make up for all that, we have the princess shoes. the princess creams. and The Executive Chair. =) you love yourself more than anyone else i know. and that in no way carries any negative connotation. i think its incredibly beautiful. dancer, free spirit. you might not know it, but you made me love dancing again and its something i can't repay - getting that little nudge to having the courage to let go. infj? i think a lot of it might be a product of how me and you has made me grow. not in obvious, dramatic ways. just slowly. don't need to get into what you mean to me. you know. we built it, and it'll last.

v - you're my rock. being with you and talking to you is incredibly comfortable. i probably don't know as many details about your past as i should after 2 years, but it doesn't make me feel like i know you any less. (though i'd like to know more...but know that even casual mentions, hints don't slip past my cognition. i remember everything you've ever told me. hehe is that a bit ominous?) i like that we sit around and laze, not talking. thats something you can't do with many people. i like that once in a while we can share outrageous things with each other and neither of us will blink an eye...it'll be accepted, sink into the flow...in a few seconds everything is as lethargic and normal as ever. i can't do that with anyone else. there's bonds between us that aren't tangible because they're not built on anything dramatic or huge. running in the mornings. motivation. puppies. cleaning up poop. going to the mess. sunday pamper sessions. yelling at bank managers. skinny jeans. a bit of music. you and me, we're founded on the normal. but its a foundation that underlies everything i do.

c - you're not a v person. i don't know how that happened. but bloody hell, i'm not letting you go. you're the person i count on most. i've complained that sometimes i feel like i'm on a pedestal and i'm so afraid of falling. i've shouted at you that i'm only human, so give me a break already. but to me, you're something above the day-to-day. you're going to blaze a trail through life and people will watch in wonder. because you are truly amazing. talented beyond words. singer. writer. painter. poet. philosopher. activist. dreamer. idealist. cynic. the one who solves my problems. the one who listens to me whine. the one who keeps me in line. the one who sees the worst in me and isn't afraid to say it. the one i know loves me unconditionally despite being able to see all that. ours is a funny friendship (is that even the word?), built on something that isn't quite logical. the power you have when it comes to me is astonishing; even i don't really understand it. you can make me doubt myself. you can make me cry where no one else can. you can make me, the person who doesn't believe in anger, furious. furious to the point of screaming 'fuck you' and storming away, leaving you standing in the middle of the road. you can make me feel like a complete idiot. but you also make me feel beautiful and treasured. like someone special, luminous. somehow, somewhere, you believe in me. smiling at you makes me feel happy. and when i smile at you, it is always real. don't forget.

v - you're a little four-legged critter that came as a complete surprise entry into my life. you're a little nightmare. you exhaust me. you frustrate me. you've shown me that i have stunning amounts of patience because no matter what you do, i can never be mad at you. i've cried for you. i've bled for you. i'm full of holes (and no, they are not pores). i'm full of love. i love you so much - you're my little munchkin pot. and now you're family.

v - i almost don't know what to say. what you are to me is everything perfect and inexplicable and right all rolled into one. beyond any expectations i ever had of anything in my life. cinematic razor sharp. you light everything up - being with you, talking to you, it feels like home. i know this isn't a masculine term (so forgive me in advance) but to me, you're beautiful. i think everything about you, everything you are, is beautiful. i never thought i'd say this to anyone, any boy or any man, but - i'm yours. you can have everything i am. because i want to share it with you. because i want to set the world on fire with you.

--

all of you make me who i am. you're the ones i love.

"clarity"

2008-01-02T04:53:00.000-08:00

i had a dream where you
were lying down next to me on the bed
i felt your breath on my ear
and i was shivering
in the silence my heart hung
on every word you'd ever said
and i could feel you in every thought
that had ever run through my head
and in that moment of clarity it all made sense
that there was nothing beyond this
that ever made sense
only me and you
and this pain we embrace
a pain that is torture
and a sweeter grace
so when the world ends
and we're lying in bed
then only me and you, love
only me and you
will have ever made sense.

"if you"

2008-01-02T04:25:00.000-08:00

do you know...

there's a boy who is
so much more than a man
and he lingers in my heart
and hell, he knows he can
he makes me want to stay
in his arms and under his hands
lost in his touch, until
it is more than i can stand

and in my mind, love
i've got to say there's no explanation
for you making me feel the way i do
but well i don't mind love
that i've got no hesitation
in loving you the way i do

...honey, if you
feel this
i know
its crazy to think
of letting it go
darling, if you
taste me
i'm addicted
touch me, drive me
out of control
if you
laid me down
and burned my soul
i'd toss and turn
beg for more
so give me more
just give me more
than i can stand
so love, if you
feel me
like i,
like i feel you
don't be letting this go

and there's a boy
who makes me warm
on cold winter days
coz when the breeze swings my hair
pushes it against my face
i think of his smile
and it brightens the day
i hear his voice in my ear
like he's right there
a little closer than
so far away..

well in this mind, love
i've got to say there's no explanation
for you making me feel the way i do
but well i don't mind love
that i've got no hesitation
in loving you the way i do

because
if you feel me
like i, like i feel you
oh

...honey, if you
feel this
i know
its crazy to think
of letting it go
darling, if you
touch me
i'm addicted
taste me, drive me
out of control
go slow
mm so slow
but only if you're
going to give me more
give me more
than i can stand
til we can't stand

...and, if you
feel that
i know
forever is not enough
for me and you love
because when i
i feel that
i know
forever is not enough
when its me and you love

just a ride...

2007-12-25T04:40:00.000-08:00

i'm goin to dash off a post while i still can...in between the cleaning of the room (which is just a giant excuse to listen to music really loudly, dance around and sing at the top of my lungs) and univ starting tomorrow...so therefore i'm going to cheat. slightly readymade post, like one of those instant mix cakes or cookies...i'm not starting from scratch - i'm goin to quote a song which seems appropriate for how i'm feeling right now.

"Life, it's ever so strange
It's so full of change
Think that you've worked it out then BANG
Right out of the blue
Something happens to you
To throw you off course

and then you
Breakdown
Yeah you breakdown
Well don't you breakdown
Listen to me

Because
It's just a ride, it's just a ride
no need to run, no need to hide
It'll take you round and round
Sometimes you're up
sometimes you're down
It's just a ride, it's just a ride
don't be scared
don't hide your eyes
It may feel so real inside
but don't forget it's just a ride... "

----

i'm not sure whats going on. this is a place i have never been, or at least something i haven't even come close to in years...

its amazing, horrifying, scary, wonderfully exciting...a roller coaster ride...complete with butterflies in your stomach.

and i really don't know what to think. for the first time in a long time...

in other news, someone sat on top of me on the train. then i sat on a suitcase for hours. it was cold. my ipod died. i slept clutching Happy. fell off the suitcase in my sleep a couple of times. at which point some nice military guys gave me another suitcase. and a shawl. adventure all the way. =)

also, we apparently now are going to a five star resort for our education rather than a national law university...as if amazing single rooms weren't enough, we now have 7 places in/right outside campus catering to our culinary desires...including outdoor tandoori cooking, gazebos, flowers, 2 caterers in the mess (with food that is even better than before - and it was already pretty damn good), and a tuck shop with 10pm-8am food delivery in hostel =) no more hungry running up and down the halls askin for food...

v (yes, one of the "v" people in my life, no points for guessing who) just got in touch...that was very very random. and well..okay. don't know what to think. don't particularily care it appears. there are no hard feelings left because there never were many strong feelings there in the first place...

doll will be here in 10 minutes!!! =)

here's to that! cheers....

--------edit---------

dec.27

i've been thinking. and i know what i think now. its one of those things that are inexplicably amazing - you've just gotta accept whatever it is and let it be. what is, is. be happy...coz i'm happy. =)

the trippy hippy

2007-12-17T07:55:00.000-08:00

i'm staring at the title of this post, because thats all that inspiration saw fit to give me. i have absolutely no idea what to write after that...but i guess it'll work its way in if it was meant to be. how bout i start writing and see where this goes...

you know sometimes life seems to be this paradox - a slow rush. you feel each moment, you live each minute, and you know it...but in great dollops you look back and wonder how you rushed through all that existing.

sometimes in those stretches of time that seem to have passed by so quickly, it feels like you haven't done justice to the one task you're supposed to be carrying out decently properly - living. i mean you figure you have a leg up already considering you're alive, breathing, and all that good stuff...but living properly, doing justice to the fact that each moment exists, well thats apparently way harder than it seems. go figure.

so i guess this is a shout out to me...yay, i'm now blogging to myself as myself...well 'trippy hippy' it is...i guess thats me...you'll get the uncombed hair, barefeet, flower power 'hippy' part in a bit...but the 'trippy' needed a little bit of crazy to be chucked into the mix and here it is...a letter to me, from me.

here is what i have to say...

---

meghana,

you and i should get in touch more. i need to tell you all the things we should do. see there's a long list regarding this whole reconnection deal...i know that university and all those crazy hours and classes and work and six day weeks make it hard, but suck it up. this is you. you're almost done being a teenager. there will never be another day in your life where you can say today is december 18, 2007. ever. think about that. so get on with living already.

i miss wearing tons of black eyeliner and and the freedom to have perpetually uncombed hair (i don't own a comb...i lost my last one years ago). i miss walking around in my barefeet on the grass and down the road, through the acad block...i miss kicking at things (usually walls, not people - however tempting the latter may be) with my ratty, dirty, converse sneaks (the ones with holes and scribbles and writing and the shoelaces with stars on them that make me so happy =))...i want us to have multicolored nails again because having to stare at one color on your hand for days is just way too boring...we love the faded jeans, t-shirts, and dangly earrings, remember? don't forget!

i miss being one with rosita (my acoustic guitar) and i especially miss rubbing that sticker that says "mean people suck" (because damn right they do) for good luck...i want to sing all day long and write down the music in my head...that feeling when the words and the notes and the chords just flow out of you - isn't that just something? indescribable, thats what.

you know, i hate that its winter and i can't pluck a flower and stick it in my hair and that the skies are gray with clouds and i can't feel the sunshine on my face...we should go to the roof of the building and smile up at the sky more often...spinning around, dancing and laughing up there is almost like flying. it feels free and beautiful. makes me want to capture the moment and tuck it away in a little glass bottle and pull it out on rainy dreary days.

i want the time to wander around the city with the camera, taking pictures at random; the time to think through angles and framing and lighting and take the perfect shot...the time to sit in a corner next to the heater, wrapped in a blanket, sipping hot chocolate and writing down random thoughts and lines that'll hopefully one day shape themeselves into poetry, lyrics, stories...i wish we had the time to sit cross-legged on bed and cut up magazines and make collages like we made those ones hanging on the wall...wish we had the time to paint and draw and sketch...its so crazy, that its always about the damned time.

you know, i get the feeling we should dust off those books you haven't read in a while and reread them...like plato and hobbes and voltaire and shakespeare...they used to be your favorites, isn't that right? what about your lists and scrapbooks - things to do, places to visit, people to meet...when was the last time you added something to them? when was the last time you played bridge or spades or hearts or capitalism or spit or speed or egyptian ratscrew (and no, i still have no idea why its called that..seriously, god only knows)? hmm?

nope. no whining and telling me there's no time. there's always time. find it. its there...keeps going on and on in fact. for eternity. there's an endless supply of it. you're smart. you're enterprising. get your hands on some.

you know that other day when i locked myself in a room, turned off the lights, turned up the music, lost ourselves in it, and you danced in my barefeet until we dropped? that was just great. we should do that a lot more. you know i hear music in my head all the time. and i know you want to dance to the music. so let's dance. dance dance dance.

don't forget to live that life you seem to love living (judging by all that smiling and laughing you do when you're actually doing what you want to)...a life full of strawberries, chocolate, green apples, friends, smiles, music, dancing, pragmatism, creativity, silver, lace, lanterns, and giant one-legged stuffed teddy bears called Happy. its yours, you lucky twit. fight for it. hold on to it. don't bloody let it go.

yeah yeah, hugs n kisses. xoxo.

---

jam 'n penguins...

2007-10-16T09:44:00.000-07:00

JAM.

i really really love jam.

in english, the word itself has three meanings.

all of them make me happy.

one you can eat. noun. (yummy yummy jam)...one that involves singing and playing. verb. (hey bring your guitar and we'll jam)...and one that could involve inflicting violence on those you don't like. also a verb. (ie. i jammed her toe in the door). this is always nice.

PENGUINS.

i also like penguins.

they're fat, innocent, patient, cute and they waddle.

sugar, music, revenge, and a fluffy animal.

sometimes i think...

life can't get any better than jam and penguins.

it means more to me than...

2007-08-30T05:20:00.000-07:00

my passion in life has always been music...

one of my earliest memories is that of my grandfather teaching me to sing a nursery rhyme in malayalam; i still have it recorded on cassette - its one of my most treasured possessions, right up there with my acoustic guitar rosita.

as a child i remember singing incesseantly, sitting behind my dad in the car as we drove through down-town Philly on shivery cold winter nights. it was invariably a christmas carol stuck in my head, or one of the many songs i had learned in chorus or music class. my dad was always the most patient listener, and the feeling his encouraging, albeit slightly distracted, praise gave me is still with me today.

listening to music could always enthrall me for hours on end - i'd just revel in the perfect change of key, the movement from major to minor, the sweetest harmony, the heartbreakingly haunting melody - all of these had the power to move me like nothing else. i could pick apart songs and the experience of listening as the pieces came together, blended and fell into this incredible tapestry of notes and rhythms and patterns was, and still is, utterly indescribable. a lot of people like to listen to music, but this was always something deeper for me - when i've tried to tell others, most don't understand. it sounds cliched but its like i'm one with the music, like i'm part of it, not an observer standing and looking, but rather an integral part of that tapestry, woven into it. i'm an agnostic, but maybe thats because i already have my fix of religious experience...

i wrote my first song when i was 7, and it was improv. i sat in the back of the car one day and told my dad there was a new song i had learned in school today...and proceeded to sing for half an hour about sesame street. he was very supportive (though not fooled for a second, i'm sure) and the thrill i felt that my song, my creation, was good enough to be passed of as something learned in a real class, shook me to my bones. i squirmed and giggled in the backseat, having discovered something new to music, something even apart from singing. that i could write songs, put more of myself into it, have a deeper connection with the music.

my first love when it came to instruments was the flute. it was something i had a natural talent for, despite the fact that at 9 my fingers were too small to reach all the keys properly. i just kept playing and playing, and for me practicing never felt like practice...it was just pure joy. by the time i was 12 i was far-advanced for my years - never a prodigy, mind you, but talented neverthless. first chair was mine, so was district and state level orchestra.

and for this reason, playing the flute in band and orchestra, western classical will always have a special place in my heart - beethoven, motzart, bach, chopin, debussey, devienne...they are talent the like of which the world will never see again, genius that can never be reproduced. when you finish playing one of their pieces, you enjoy every bar but you also get the sense of a vision, an overall picture that you could never have imagined until you experienced it the way they wanted you to.

when i was 13, i auditioned for my school's jazz ensemble. jazz is an artform like no other, wilder and more free than everything that preceded it...it requires a feel for music that no one can give you, it just has to be in your soul...when you play something like scott joplin's the entertainer, when you get to the end of a measure, its almost like the improv solo is no work...your mind doesn't work, your fingers just move, and what comes out is what is just right...no explanation or understanding needed.

at the same time, around the age of 9, i discovered pop music, courtesy of an uncle that knew little girls needed britney spears, backstreet boys and nsync...from there i discovered the radio...and slowly my musical tastes evolved and became more diverse...pop to soft rock to rock. i wrote sappy love songs that, when i look back at them now, make me want to vomit =)

the cd that changed my life was "yourself or someone like you" by matchbox twenty. i still maintain that rob thomas is one of the most naturally talented songwriters in the world. capturing raw emotion with lyric and melody is something no one else can do quite like him. i started to write songs about my life (a more than usually horrid home situation and a lot of teenage angst and self-pity helps here) and they meant more to me than anything had in my whole 12 years of existence...i'd finally found a way to deal with my emotions, get them out on paper and into a melody...and i knew then that this was what i wanted to do with my life.

...i started to record myself singing and the first time i played my own voice back i cried. it was truly horrible, no other word for it. so i sang and i sang - through classes, on buses, through sore throats, at night, on the streets, in subways. i'd sing the same song 50 times in a row until it was perfect. i developed my ear and my voice and started to feel the music when i sang...this is the only thing in my whole life i've had a boundless supply of patience for.

my friends (the most amazing in the world, without whom i'd never have got through those years and emerged remotely sane) got me an acoustic guitar for my 13th birthday. i'm pretty sure that was the happiest day of my life. i taught myself to play and it got easier to write songs. before, the only obstacle i'd found it impossible to surmount was that you couldn't sing and play flute at the same time. but now i played for hours, until my fingers blistered and cut and bled.

every free waking hour was spent listening to music or singing or playing guitar/flute or writing. i fronted a band, sang on streets for money, played some gigs, shows and concerts, was a weirdly nerdy, snotty little punk who'd sit backstage in all black, converse, and tons of black eyeliner, waiting to go on stage, and read plato or listen to backstreet boys. 90% of the people there were busy being cool but all i cared about was the music. i've mellowed out of that goth look a whole lot, but the feeling i get when i perform has never changed. i'm pretty shy in person, not very outgoing unless i'm around certain people or in certain moods. i've never had stage fright because when i perform, i lose myself. still, in the earlier days, my voice would shake when i sang in front of others because it was so damn important to me, i couldn't bear the thought of it not being received well.

but now i don't care...i've grown up and grown more confident. my musical tastes have expanded as i've become more openminded...i can listen and appreciate almost any song, the emotion, the skill, and the thought behind it. but rock is still the music of my heart and music itself is still is the most powerful force i've encountered. it can make me dance, it can make me cry, it can make shiver, it can make me lose myself in it like nothing else can. given any situation, any emotion, i could probably express myself best with a song. my love letters can be played on an ipod, and i think if i really fell in love, i'd sing for that person and it would be the most perfect thing in the world.

all i know is...i can't imagine my life without music, and this is what i want to do with my life. i maybe a law student, i may even be a lawyer in a few years...but in my heart, and one day in reality, i will always be an artist- because thats what musicians are, artists of the purest form of art ever created.

makes me wonder...

2007-08-30T05:10:00.000-07:00

how can you look at something like this and not be amazed at all the beauty in the world?

taken bangalore 2005

A Translation

2007-07-05T09:23:00.000-07:00

here's a little translation really quickly...

i need to explain the title of this blog. its a verse from one of my favorite poems, a poem which is both simple and beautiful. for me thats always been what i like in a poem - not somebody showing off an incredible vocabulary because thats not soul. soul is finding the right words, simple as they may be. not too much. not too little. just enough to say exactly what you want to say and not overdo it.

jose julian marti was born on the 28th of january 1853 in havana cuba. artist, intellectual, leader of men, vanguard of a new age, "yo soy un hombre sincero [i am a sincere man]" is the most famous of his collection of poems "versos sencillos [simple verses]"

here's a quote with translation below each verse. much prettier in spanish.

yo soy un hombre sincero
de donde crece la palma
y antes de morirme quiero
echar mis versos de alma

i am a smiple man
from where the palm tree grows
and before i die, i want
to write down the verses of my soul

...todo es hermoso y constante
todo es musica y razon
y todo, como el diamante,
antes de luz es carbon...

everything is beautiful and constant
everything is music and light
and everything, like the diamond
before light is carbon

if anybody speaks spanish [raghu?] please tell me so i can practice with you...its hard to keep fluency if you dont speak.

versos sencillos

2007-06-20T21:48:00.000-07:00

pues, necesito explicar el origen del titulo de esta blog.

es un verso de una de mis poemas favoritas, un poema lindo y sencillo. porque esta es la calidad que a mi, me encanta en un poema. las palabras complicadas no estan necesitas - no necesitas demostrarme que tienes un vocabulario increible - tener esa habilidad no dice nada sobre el alma de la poema. nada demasiado poco, nada mucho - bastante.

Jose julian marti nacio en la habana, cuba el 28 de enero de 1853. artista, intelectual, quia de hombres y vanguardia de una epoca - "yo soy un hombre sincero" es la mas famosa de sus poemas, "versos sencillos"...

yo soy un hombre sincero
de donde crece la palma
y antes de morirme quiero
echar mis versos de alma

yo vengo de todas partes
y hacia de todas partes voy
arte soy entre las artes
en los montes, monte soy

yo se los nombres extranos
de las yerbas y las flores
y mortales eganos
y de sublimes dolores

yo he visto en la noche oscura
llover sobre mi cabeza
los rayos de lumbre pura
de la divina belleza...

todo es hermoso y constante
todo es musica y razon
y todo, como el diamante,
antes de luz es carbon...

hmm...

2007-04-25T10:36:00.000-07:00

this is a new blog. it is private. that means only three people should be reading it.

i hate studying. i hate that its hot. i hate dust. and i hate washing clothes.

i hate oily hair. i hate hairy people. i hate hair in my food. i hate the mess food.

i love baby birds. i love baby dogs. i love baby cats. i love baby dolls.

puedo hablar las lenguas que yo uso en mis escritos.

oh yeah, for all those uninvited readers (read one), good to see you've changed the walk. gotta be careful not to drive all those hormone-charged boys wild =)

now let me go see about australia. and my passport. and my visa. and...and...all those IMPORTANT things i have to do. too busy...where's my phone? where's my phone????