look to the skies

!!

Thu, 06 Dec 2007 01:16:17 GMT

*Colorado All-State Symphony Orchestra 2008*

*Piccolo*		*French Horns*
Maria Mandico	Rampart HS	Mark Pettey	Lewis Palmer HS
		Thomas Park	Woodland Park HS
*Flutes*		Matthew Jasica	Legacy HS
Rebecca Smith	Niwot HS	Samantha Allen	Regis Jesuit HS
Amanda Brignola	Sand Creek HS	Rachel Spidell	Denver School of the Arts

*0boes*		*Trumpets*
Matthew Yuknas	Grandview HS	Amy Darling	Denver School of the Arts
Micah Kim	Rampart HS	Tucker Ewer	Ralston Valley HS
		Brennan Roper	Highlands Ranch HS

Never saw that one coming.

Sat, 13 Oct 2007 06:07:31 GMT

I feel suffocated, by my dreams, by my emotions, by every other thing that is bothering me. But I can't tell you how much I want it all. Or do I want it at all? I'm tired. I'm sick of being forced into things by other people. I want my own life, my own spirit. But I'm preventing myself from having it. Why?
I'm scared of some things, but I'm mostly scared of myself. What I can do to stop myself from seeing the reality of my life. I miss Kristin, she makes me feel like I really do matter. If you care about me, show it. Because I can't show it myself...and when you see my eyes melt they'll only turn harder when I realize that gravity is pulling down my heart, back into its hiding place. I'll be vulnerable only when you are.

Tue, 08 May 2007 02:25:43 GMT

Here are my college entrance essays...you'll have to forgive me for errors in them because they're only drafts. Tell me what you think (I think they are so so cheesy, but they're true, at least!)

My flute teacher was my hero long before I began taking lessons from her. I’m not exactly sure how she became such a central figure to me even before we met, but it probably happened when my mother dragged my four siblings and me to our very first symphony concert. Since we were young, and not exactly ecstatic about coming, our arrival to the performance came with a flurry of shuffling feet and insistent whispers, asking why we had to be there. The racket aside, however, I’m sure the orchestra sounded beautiful. I don’t really remember, because I wasn’t paying that much attention to the music, but I did, at least, enjoy watching the orchestra. What intrigued me most during the performance was a glint of light near the center of the orchestra, and I soon discovered it was light bouncing off a flute, which was playfully jumping about as the player, my future teacher, effortlessly moved to the music.

Even at eight, an unknown motivation kept me coming back to the symphony concerts. At some point, I started liking the actual music, but I think I just liked watching the orchestra initially. The principle flute player, in the meantime, managed to make room for a tiny space in my heart. I was in awe of her, and I started to look up to her. I wondered what it would be like to meet her, and find out more about what she did in her life.

When beginning band approached and sixth grade loomed closer, it’s not hard to imagine what instrument I longed to pick up. Finally, summer band started, and flute was my instrument of choice. After I had been playing it for about a year, I decided I wanted to take lessons from the flute player in the orchestra. She was a teacher, and in the summer, I officially became her student.

My first lesson was slightly nerve-racking, as most firsts are. I wondered what she would think of me, dreading that she would declare me a terrible flute player and never let me come back. But I should have known better. She was kind and accepting of my seventh-grade musicianship; she even encouraged me to continue playing. From the start she was outgoing, easily discussing her life with me. One lesson turned into five lessons, five turned into a year, a year turned into six years. Throughout my time with her, my flute teacher has opened countless doors for me, exposing me to more firsts than I could ever have imagined.

That lesson is etched in the back of my memory now. My appreciation and understanding of music has matured, and now, I am in love with classical music. Just a couple weeks past, I was practicing Cantabile et Presto with my accompanist when my flute teacher stopped me. "Well, I can go home now!" She said in her cheery voice, half joking. "You played that wonderfully. You’re going to make me cry!" I almost cried along with her. I couldn’t believe how far we’d come since that moment when I first spotted her flute in the orchestra.

By now, I’ve probably unintentionally gotten across the point that I am an imperforate music geek. But I feel like this is a term I can me proud of. Today, music surrounds me everywhere, and I am astonished by the emotion it can create. My flute teacher guided me to that realization. She still claims the place in my heart I made for her years ago.

There is a photograph of my siblings and I from some years ago. We are all sitting on the first step of my front porch, adorned in summer clothing: a dress for me, my knees scratched up from the wear and tear of childhood. I seem to be caught in mid-laugh, an arm carelessly draped around my brother. We are all barefoot, the soft wood of the porch under our feet. This photo documents one of many memories that took place on the porch. The deck is far from a meaningless structure to me. It is more than just a way to get into my house; it is a place where past stories are ingrained in the wood.

When seen at first glance, the deck appears simply decorated. On it are a couple rocking chairs, where one person might share anecdotes with another. Besides the chairs, and the railing that surrounds the deck, there are no fancy embellishments. It is plain, candid, and it doesn’t bother to disguise its purpose: to bring people together. For that, it is an invention that has impacted my life in many ways.

Some of my most treasured memories originate from the porch. At the neighborhood picnic in the spring, neighbors would come to our house and sit on our front porch when it got too late to be standing outside. Then, the adults, all rather intoxicated, would talk to each other loudly, laugh boisterously, and otherwise make a racket. But I didn’t mind. By then, I had probably gone to bed, and the noise would drift up lazily to my room, where I would fall asleep listening to the sound of their voices.

I also remember watching mighty thunderstorms pass through the neighborhood on the front porch. The rain would pound down and lightning would crack amazingly close to us, but we were sheltered by the roof over the deck. In safety, we would stare in wonder at the power of the storm. On balmy summer evenings, by contrast, we would sit outside on the porch, the heat making us lethargic. It was fun to sit out there with my parents and my siblings, drinking iced tea and watching my youngest sister do cartwheels on the lawn. These are some of my happiest memories of my family.

The porch has had its share of bittersweet times as much as happy ones. The porch was grounds for many goodbyes, when neither person was ready to say farewell inside the front door. We would talk for just a bit longer on the deck, the sun melting behind the mountains, until time slipped away from us.

My front porch is important to me because it taught me that there are times when anyone can be content, if only for a moment. It is an invention designed not only for practical purposes, even though it is the main way to get to the front door, but it is also a way to socialize and become closer to people that are encountered in life. As I got older, so did the porch, both of us enduring the harshness of time. It was varnished, new wood when we first came to live in the house, but over the years, the wood paled and dulled, not because of neglect, but because of too much love. It easily supported the thousands of footsteps, confidently holding our weight, and for that, I can say that it is the greatest, most reliable invention anyone could think of. It’s hard to believe this lifeless structure can absorb so much love.

Thu, 26 Apr 2007 00:43:00 GMT

Dr. Suess brightens my day!
Ok so, I hope I did well on the ACT. At least it's done, though.
Katie and I went to the Garden Gate after, the food was good. I like the Garden Gate. Both of us were exhausted, and loopy.
Practice was total lameness. Kay's son is so adorable, and it's hard to concentrate on music when he's in the room....(!) He's got the sweetest smile. Ugh, wouldn't it be weird to date my teacher's son? It sounds like it could be illegal.
I babysat for Julian last night (kind of) and I met the german au pair that's staying there. Her name is Igul. But Julian was grumpy and sick, so was Marcus, so we didn't really have a chance to talk. But she seems really sweet.
I just want to get through this week.

Awww

Wed, 18 Apr 2007 03:08:20 GMT

This is just hilarious.

Wed, 11 Apr 2007 03:31:10 GMT

I'm trying to think of someone who has influenced me life for my college entrance essay in English, and I'm having trouble coming up with of someone that's unique, or someone who I haven't already written about which is ugh so hard.
The only person I can think of is that guy who was singing opera in the subway station. But it's not like he profoundly influenced me. But he did a little, I guess.
I just can't think of anyone...(!)

Mon, 12 Mar 2007 22:41:51 GMT

Dear Nate and Marie,
Thank god you are both ok. I left school today, going left, which I almost never do, and I saw police cars flashing in the distace. Traffic was slow, and for a split second I wondered if it might be you guys who were in an accident. When I drove by, I couldn't believe what I saw; all the metal and Marie's car right in the middle of it. It scared me so much, but I wasn't sure if I should stop because it was already so chaotic, and everyone seemed to be fine. I kept going, immediately feeling guilty and worried to death about you two. I wish it didn't have to happen to you guys. I'm so sorry it took me a while to call you, and I am so so glad you are (mostly) ok.
I love you both much more than you probably realize, and I'm so relieved that you are ok.
Love,
Becky

Sat, 03 Mar 2007 05:10:02 GMT

I got the scholarship!!!!!
Yay. 500 dolares para mi!

Sun, 18 Feb 2007 02:01:09 GMT

College mail count? 26! God! So many to choose from!! And one from dePaul. Craziness!

Mon, 05 Feb 2007 04:58:59 GMT

I was lying when I said--
you don't scare me.
I would rather
face
a crowd of ten million people
then to see you,
sitting there,
mocking every time
I tried to reach out to you
from the corners of myself.
Has your head gotten bigger
with lies,
or just arrogance?
at believing you could pretend
one more time,
that I wasn't there, no more insignificant
than dust?
I am so sick of you
and all your stupid games.
please leave
because you are to blame
refusing to understand
when I was the most vulnerable.

Thu, 04 Jan 2007 03:00:29 GMT

I couldn't tell you that you're hurting me
but you are.

I wouldn't tell you that you're all I see
but it's the truth.

I shouldn't tell you that for all this time,
I was scared shitless
of you
and I am.

Because when this pain
unraveled my heart
you made me something
I'm not,
now
I swear I'm going crazy.

You know all the things I never told you.

Don't you?

Wed, 20 Dec 2006 01:33:48 GMT

I miss everybody horribly. Sooomebody call me!

Sun, 17 Dec 2006 04:10:38 GMT

yes!!!
tonight I was uber fucking brave!!
score one.

Sun, 02 Apr 2006 14:38:18 GMT

Hey Guys--
Well, this is exciting, I'm in Savannah, Georiga right now. I'm happy there's still internet access. But anyway, just saying hi, please comment, I am a lonesome girl out here!!

Wed, 29 Mar 2006 21:54:59 GMT

This was the worst day of my life.

Sun, 26 Mar 2006 19:00:31 GMT

I'm sick as hell. I can barely breath.

If anyone wants to care, feel free to drop me a line.