Music is Life: What Chopin’s Polonaise-Fantaisie, Op. 61 Has Taught Me About Being Human

(Wherein I reveal that I am, indeed, a music nerd, and maybe I think too much, and I most definitely feel too much… but I wouldn’t have it any other way.)

It has been said that life imitates art... and art imitates life.

For me, it's a bit different. For me, it's more that music sometimes helps us make sense of life, when nothing else does.

When I was growing up, I had a cassette tape of Vladimir Horowitz playing Chopin pieces. The second song on side two was the piece I was working on at the time. It’s a famous Nocturne: Op. 9 No. 2. Everyone recognizes it when those first notes echo from the keys.

But getting to the second song on side B meant I had to fast forward through or listen to the first piece: Polonaise-Fantaisie, Op. 61.

The piece is 13 minutes long, so I really didn’t want to listen to it.

Ever.

In fact, I hated this piece. I loathed it so much that I actually ended up recording the nocturne I needed on a different tape, just so I wouldn’t have to constantly fast-forward through this annoying 13 minute piece that just seemed like it noodled on forever and ever.

But since I occasionally listened to other pieces on that cassette, I would run across those 13 minutes now and again.

And I caught myself, over time, listening to snippets of this monstrosity.

And slowly, I found that maybe I didn’t really hate it.

It really confused me, though.

It started out with a bang… even sounded a bit grandiose in parts, and playful in other parts, with some great melodies—some chord progressions that evoked feelings of sadness and tragedy within me—and a few fun passages here and there, all within the first seven and a half minutes.

The main problem, though, was that aside from the interesting bits, it mostly noodled around and seemed to have no real purpose. It felt those notes and phrases were lost, waiting to be put into some type of order. That was incredibly frustrating, and I realized that’s what drove me mad about the piece.

It just didn’t make any sense.

And then…

Then, I heard the silence for the first time. In that silence, around 7 minutes, 45 seconds* into the piece, Chopin stops to take a breath, so that it’s ever-so-gently pronounced that he’s brilliantly introducing an entirely new melody.

Chopin was a rule breaker, indeed. Between Chopin and Beethoven breaking all the rules of composition back in the day, I’m surprised Classical music remained “Classical” for as long as it did.

This melody captivates me. It takes my breath away, every time.

What moves me even more, though, is how close it is to the end of the piece.

It’s almost as if the first two thirds of the piece is this frustrated build-up so that by the time you hear this melody, nothing in the world sounds more beautiful.

From this point forward, the piece is a brewing, barely-bridled pool of passion that begins to ooze out and then explode across the remaining pages. This piece turns into the most romantic love story for about three minutes… and then the ending is just… berserk.

This piece is strong. It makes a statement. You’re either going to love it, or hate it… or hate it and then love it, like me.

Because the ending of this piece is nothing short of absolute, 100% brilliance. It’s almost impossible to play accurately at the speed you’re supposed to play it, with the amount of conviction it takes to pull it off. You’ve just been playing for nearly 13 minutes, so your hands and arms are tired. But Chopin didn’t care… he had a story to tell (there's a lesson there).

The last two minutes of this piece are gushing with the most unadulterated, pure JOY spilling off the page, across the piano, onto the floor, splashing your face, and every time I hear it, I want to get up from whatever I’m doing and live the life that exists within this music.

It’s just that compelling to me… but maybe because I’ve heard it hundreds of times over the years, and it’s grown on me. I actually sat down and analyzed the entire piece one time, chord by chord, phrase by phrase, because it confused me so much why I feel such a visceral reaction every time I listen to it.

And through all of that analysis, I came to realize something.

This piece represents life.

My life.

I felt so lost for the first part of my life. I felt like I was just noodling around, without any real purpose. I had some amazing moments of intense joy and conversely, deep sorrow. But mostly it was full of noodling seemingly pointlessly from day to day (or note to note).

And then, I woke up… about 7 minutes, 45 seconds in…

And I have been living a life of learning… struggling with how to be in the moment, and be truly open to feeling, even when it hurts… even when it’s hard… even when the pain is so intense I want to claw my eyes out because that would hurt less, and at least then I could point to the tangible cause.

But the moments of joy I have are deeply satisfying and real. The moments of pain are pivotal for me, and my life is richer because of them.

And my ending?

Well… I already know I’m going out with a bang. I already know that the ending of my life is going to be the best…

Don’t ask me how I know… it’s more a feeling I get, I guess, rather than knowledge.

So when I have days like I’ve had today… and weeks like I’ve had this week… when all I want is to hide under the covers until the pain is gone… the pain I feel because my very soul—open and exposed, was gazed upon and then ultimately rejected…

I have to listen to the Polonaise-Fantaisie a few times.

Loud enough to (probably) annoy my neighbors.

Because there are times when lying on the hardwood floor in a crying heap, then banging on the piano keys just to express some emotion I haven’t felt in entirely too long, and then listening to, of all things, Classical music, as loud as I can stand it (which still isn’t loud enough in this case)… there are times like these when I just need to be reminded that it’s okay to be a living, breathing, human being.

Because there is a greater purpose for all of this, and I’m not yet privy to it, and I may never be… and that’s ok. Most of the time, I don’t mind feeling small… we are all small.

But it’s connecting with people who are like-minded… and it’s sharing and being vulnerable that makes life richer and worth living, but when the unexpected happens and The Real Me ™ is absolutely, unequivocally rejected…

Sometimes it helps me to know that someone from centuries ago, named Frederic Chopin, had already felt these feelings, too. He put passion on paper in a way that no other composer ever has, in my opinion. He was someone who felt deeply, someone who lived a life of passion and often great despair. He was a real person. 

And I am, too.

And so are you.

And what does it all matter? I don’t know… but I do know that we can’t do this thing all alone. I do know that if we all continue putting energy into things that just don’t matter… our lives, inevitably, won’t matter.

And even sometimes when we do invest in things that matter, and the result is, at best, confusing, and painful, and defeating… I guess what I’m trying to say is… try to remember that you’re not the first person who’s ever felt that way, and you won’t be the last.

We need each other, to get through these times…

*In the recording I linked to, the silence and new melody occur at approx. 8:28. I would rather have linked to Horowitz, because he plays this piece better than anyone can, but it's split between two videos and that... just doesn't work.

On Connection and Friendship

Subtitle: An Awkward Post About Being Awkward


I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, and to be perfectly honest—I have struggled to stay positive.

I’ve been looking at the mirrors pointing within, and at the moment I find it hard to completely like what I see.

Normally, I’m a happy-go-lucky, laid-back, easily pleased and easily amused woman. I’m caring, and I have a genuine interest in people.

But I long for deep, intimate connection.

I have a deep connection with my husband. I thought about this yesterday, actually—he knows me so well, so thoroughly, that we can literally exchange one look and have a whole conversation. We can talk about hard things and push through difficult issues and come out on the other side of it feeling closer and happier.

My closest friend is another I am strongly connected to. She often articulates what I feel before I can, and we can honestly share anything with each other.


Another close friend is someone I haven't seen in almost two years, but in spite of that, we maintain a close, loving friendship. 


(In fact, I have lots of good out-of-state friends. When we get together, it's as if we were never apart. But it's difficult to maintain that level of intimacy when you see each other once every year or three.)

Those are the only people on the planet who truly get me… the whole me, not just the online side, the Pathways side, the professional side, the everyday side... 

And while I feel truly lucky to have the friends I have, I'd really like to expand that circle of face-to-face friends. I’m searching for deep, ongoing connection with one or two (female) friends. I’ve had it before, with several people, and when we share a moment—it’s truly amazing. The caveat is, I’m a face-to-face type of woman. Connecting face-to-face is exponentially more powerful and meaningful to me than connecting over the phone, through email, or through any other route.

And I’m pretty good at it, too. It’s easy to do whatever’s right in front of my face.

The problem is layered. First...

Follow through.

I get busy. I forget. I think about calling at 11pm, when it’s just not nice to call. And then more time passes, and I feel like an idiot for responding to something or someone a month after the fact.

And I feel horrible about it.

And, while we’re at it—let’s add a few other layers to the puzzle. Because quite frankly, if follow through was the worst of my problems, I think this friend thing would be a lot easier.

I’m awkward when I’m first getting to know someone. Perhaps we’ve had a connection, or perhaps we’ve shared a moment and I think there’s a potential there for us to be good friends.

I am also not a small-talker. I have a hard time having short or less-than-deep conversations with people—especially when we’ve shared an intimate connection at some point.

(That’s not to say I’m all serious. I’m not. In fact, if you see my silly and funny side, that means I trust you.)

When I’ve shared intimacy and depth with someone, I don’t know what to talk about that isn’t intimate and deep. So, I feel awkward, and I act awkward.

And I have a pretty strong feeling that that’s off-putting. It makes the other person feel awkward, and then if we don’t talk about how awkward it is, it’s difficult to push through.

I also tend to act awkward because I struggle with trust—trusting that this person I’m trying to get to know better won’t leave me in the dust. It’s happened before, many times… the worst being my “best friend” from junior high all the way through college up and telling me one day that she never wanted to speak to me again. There were many issues in our relationship, and we had been growing apart over time, but still—it hurt.

Badly.

Deeply.

And for many years after it happened, I wasn’t able to trust any new friend. When she told me off that day, it felt like a divorce. We were fiercely close friends for over 10 years, and the sense of loss was overwhelming.

I don’t ever want to go through it again.

And, let’s add another layer, shall we?

If I have an interaction that doesn’t feel quite right, or if something happens where I end up feeling rejected, I create a lot of judgments about it. Maybe I don’t have to explain this, now that you know about the friend who dumped me, but I tread so carefully—walking on eggshells—because I don’t want to screw up. I don’t want to drive the other person away. I don’t want to demand too much. I don’t want to lose the potential gift of an intimate friendship.

Let me give you a situational example to illustrate...

I call or email Potential Friend A (PFA), leaving some sort of indication that I’d like to get together with her.

I know there’s been some interest in becoming closer friends in the past, so I’m confused when PFA doesn’t return the call or email (or both).

Out of defensiveness, and out of the semi-automatic leap my brain makes to she’s rejected you!, I start to form some pretty harsh judgments, like:

• She doesn’t want to be my friend.
• She doesn’t care.
• She doesn’t like me after all.

And then I turn the judgments on myself:

• I’m not good enough to be her friend.
• I don’t matter to her.
• I’ve been rejected again.

Ridiculous, right? Instead of just following up, and asking a simple question, and keeping the situation simple… I make it infinitely more complicated, so that by the time I actually talk to PFA again, I’m coming from such a place of insecurity that I’m even more awkward than before.

The real irony of all my behavior and the underlying feelings and fears driving my behavior is that they are denying me of the things I really want. And boy, does that suck to realize…

Of course now that I know it, I can work to change it. 


That's the beauty of life, and of working through something hard. 


It's a choice. 

Respect, Acceptance, and Rejection

A few things have happened recently to make me realize that sometimes, I’m a disrespectful ass.

I’ve spent so much time in my life trying to shape my behavior based on what I think other people think about me (see ‘rejection’ tag on this blog), because I wanted so badly to be accepted.

So, when I started to break free from that, and from those hefty chains, I noticed a bit of a swing in the opposite direction: not worrying one bit about how my actions or words affected others, or might come across.

As you might expect, there’s a little bit of backlash to that, especially since I’m still relatively new at this ‘expressing myself’ thing. I’m bound to make mistakes.

I think this issue is two-fold. I’ll attempt to explain…

Issue 1:

Let’s take one of the bad habits I’m trying to break, like being late all the time.

I’ve struggled a lot with being late. All of my friends know that they can expect me to be anywhere from 5-15 minutes late to an in-person meeting.

For some reason, it’s a huge issue for me to be on time, let alone early. I always think I can squeeze in just one more thing before I need to leave. Or, I oversleep or take too long of a shower, and as a result, I’m running late from the get-go. The worst is when I get distracted (oo! shiny!) and lose track of time. I am ADD, after all, and this is one area where I haven't coped well with ADD at all.

I’ve been written up in previous jobs for being late. I’ve been “talked to” about it by other employers.

(I’m fortunate now that my current position doesn’t rely heavily on being in to the office at a specific time. I appreciate that flexibility.)

This is a pretty significant nemesis for me, especially since one of the most important things in my life is volunteering for an organization where the sessions I help with are tightly time-bound. In this realm, I’m actually pretty good about being on time. I slip up now and then, but in the overall scheme of things, I do better about being on time for these sessions than I am for anything else in my life.

And being on time takes a lot of preparation on my part. I pick out my outfit the night before. I get my breakfast ready, waiting right by my purse so it's easy to grab. I get my vitamins packed in my purse. My car keys are actually hooked onto my purse, so I always know where they are. The shoes I’m going to wear are right by the door. Everything is all set so that all I have to do is get up, get ready, and go. In other words, I don’t have to think.

That’s how significant it is. It’s engrained. It’s a problem I’ve struggled with my entire LIFE. So, breaking this cycle isn’t going to be easy.

So, it really stings when it’s brought to my attention that being late is still a big problem. I’m so eager to pat myself on the back for being on time “most” of the time, that I let myself off the hook for the times I’m “only” a few minutes late.

From someone else's perspective, I'm certain that being late reflects poorly on my character. It's disrespectful. It says to the other person or group, "You don't matter as much as I do." 

So, the first issue, in a nutshell: I’ve got a bad habit of some sort that I hate working on, and maybe I’m not even sure how to tackle it. I’m far from an organized person, and the universe has already revealed to me that organization is my priority this year. So, I have a lot of judgments wrapped up around how to work on this habit, how hard it is to break this habit and form a new one in its place, etc.

Basically, I criticize myself so much for having this bad habit that anytime someone else brings it up, it feels like I’m looking at an ugly monster.

Issue 2:

I immediately form judgments about the person who’s on the receiving end of whatever my bad habit is.

The hard truth?

It releases me from accountability, and it helps me justify my feelings. I make myself pay for it in the quiet recesses of my mind and heart, but man it looks ugly when other people see it.

So, for example, when I sent an email to a random person (see previous entry) and got no response… how many judgments were wrapped up in what I posted there? Instead of accepting the situation at face value and assuming it had nothing to do with me, I assumed it had everything to do with me, and I reacted accordingly.

How immature is that?

(Um, that’s a rhetorical question.)

Also, how arrogant is that, to assume that I am the one causing someone else’s universe to be out of whack?

So, these are significant problems. The nice thing is that they’re not as huge as the problems I used to have. Not nearly. But it’s something I’m working on.

I ask for patience and compassion from my friends. 

It’s really weird how rejection/acceptance issues manifest in other ways in my life…

Dear Internet...

You know what?

I’m frustrated.

Frustrated may not even cover it, really, but I’ll leave it at just frustrated for now.

This online thing is so annoying at times. Annoying, because I occasionally come across someone who intrigues me—whether it’s with what they say, what they do (jewelry, or mixed media art, or whatever)… or maybe even that through a friend, I’ve discovered someone who lives near me.

So, I do what I want to do, which is reach out and attempt to make a connection.

I have two examples of this. And I’m not even going to bother worrying what they’ll think if they ever see this post, because chances are, they won’t. And if they do, maybe they’ll see that I am a real person with real feelings.

(Or not.)

That isn’t the point, and I get tired of censoring myself for fear of offending “someone” when chances are, no one will be offended.

Example 1:

I saw an artist’s jewelry on the Etsy front page. It looked really different from my jewelry, but also really gorgeous. So, I clicked the photo. I was mystified at how beautiful her creations are, and I immediately felt inadequate, but I tried not to, because I’ve always said (and I firmly believe!) that there’s room for everyone.

There’s room for every type of jewelry designer imaginable. As long as someone makes something that someone else will buy or at least wear… there’s room.

So, I looked through all her designs. And fell in love.

(And if this weren’t a negative post, I would totally plug her jewelry here, for my half-dozen readers.)

But she does this one technique that I really would like to learn. I may never actually do it or find a way to incorporate it into my own designs (which, as I said, are VERY different from hers), but I sure would like to learn how to do it.

So, I went to her blog and left a comment on one of her posts, letting her know that I would love to learn that technique. Did she invent it, or did she learn it somewhere else? I couldn’t find an email address for her anywhere, or I would have emailed her instead. It felt weird to leave a random comment asking about a specific technique, but there you have it. I did.

I even specifically said that I would never copy what she does, because if she took all of two seconds to glance at my Etsy site, she would see that my jewelry is not and never will be anything like hers.

Several days later, I went back to her blog, wondering if she’d responded and I just didn’t get it in email.

The comment was gone.

Come ON.

Deleting a comment? That’s just crappy. I’m not a spammer blowing through a bunch of blogs trying to get free techniques. I was actually willing to pay to learn the technique.

It just left a bad taste in my mouth.

Trying to see this from what I perceive to be her perspective: I’m a weirdo who wants to learn a technique so I can steal her jewelry designs and make oodles of money?

Well, fine. I prefer to stick to communities like lampworkers, and like many other jewelry designers, who are perfectly willing to show you techniques they have learned or tips and tricks to working in the medium of choice. If you’re not willing to share a technique with me, whether for free or for a fee, then I don’t want to associate with you anyway, because while I’m incredibly selfish about some things, this isn’t one of them.

Example 2:

A long-time online friend of mine posted about a blog she’s been following. So, I went to the blog, too. And I saw that she lives in the same general vicinity that I do. I thought, “Hey! Small world!” because my online friend and I have never met in person (we live in different states), and what are the odds that I’m going to click on a random link and end up reading the blog of someone who lives in my back yard? Right?

Right?

So, I did what I consider to be the friendly thing and sent her an email. I told her where I was and said that I didn’t expect her to tell me, a complete stranger, where she lived exactly, but that I just wanted to say hello and that I liked her art.

No response.

Trying to see it from what I perceive to be her perspective: I’m a weirdo freak who wants to stalk her, she’s had bad experiences in the past after being too open and now doesn’t trust anyone on the internet…

It's also possible that she hasn't had time to respond. This happens to me, occasionally... I leave an email as unread, thinking I'll respond to it soon. "Soon" turns into next week, then next month...

But, I loathe being ignored. I'm trying to be better about responding to emails quickly, especially since I know how it feels to be on the waiting end.

Here are a few of my experiences:

• Back in my college days, I spent a lot of time on the internet, back when it was really turning into a time suck. I used PINE to “surf” until the AOL/Prodigy days. I spent a lot of time on a MUD/muck/mush called NAILS. I got to know people so well there, that when a meet-up was organized (long before the site meetup.com came into being), I went. Didn’t even give it a second thought. I’m still friends with some of those folks today. I even met a guy who eventually became my boyfriend.
• I dated online for years before it was acceptable to do so. I would meet a guy on matchmaker.com (and a quick Google shows that site does still exist), we’d talk on the phone for a few days, and then we’d meet. Now, I was kinda dumb about it at first, because invariably I’d have them pick me up where I lived. Little bit naïve, I admit… but I got lucky, and I ended up meeting some great people that way.
• I met my husband online. We met in 2001, on a dating website. We talked on the phone for several weeks, met up, and the rest is history.
• And, I’ve met countless friends online. Including a friend in New York. We were online friends for years. We exchanged postcards, letters, and even an occasional phone call. We sometimes send each other presents. So when she invited me to her wedding, I said, “Why not?” and I got on a plane and drove to her house and met her. Getting that first hug was like hugging an old friend I’ve hugged a thousand times. She turned out to be exactly who she presented herself as, and she said the same of me. (Hi P!)

It’s just not scary to me anymore. It’s no big deal. You meet in a public place, and if you don’t hit it off or if the other person is creepy, you move on.

I’ve heard horror stories, of course… people who go to great lengths to create online personas that end up being completely false. Even worse when others buy in to the persona and send gifts, invest lots of time and energy in the person, or worse—send them money. I’ve seen it happen before. Yikes.

The one stalker I’ve had in my lifetime happened during my college days, and we met face to face, so I can’t blame the internet for that one.

What I think it all boils down to, though, is that the two examples I mentioned of being ignored are forms of rejection.

And rejection is one of my biggest issues… even to this day. I hate the thought that someone doesn’t like me. I want everyone to like me, and I finally let myself off the hook for feeling this way. It’s just part of my personality.

I think if you could sit and have a cup of coffee with the people I’m closest with, they would tell you that I am worth knowing.

And, you know what?

I am.

Weekend Countdown?

Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted. --Randy Pausch, Last Lecture

Thank you to everyone who commented about  the rejections... I'm trying not to be upset about it anymore. It just doesn't seem right to toss energy into something that's giving me nothing back. I'm sure that later this year I'll look back at this moment and realize that if the Etsy Dallas thing had panned out, I never would've been available for xyz opportunity.

Yep. That's how I'm gonna think about it.

There is always room for improvement. I know I need to spend more time getting better photos of my jewelry. I'm experimenting on sunny days and I think some of my more recent photos are much better-- but much of the jewelry on my Etsy site has poor photos. I recognize that.

I also need to post items more regularly. I'm not sure whether that's something that worked against me or not when it came down to judgment time, but it may have. 

I know I need to get a brand... hell-- I'm still undecided about using linda lee studio as my "brand" ... I like it but I don't. I can't get the .com and that's annoying. All the good ones I can come up with are taken! The only thing that isn't taken is my name, because, well, I own that already. So I've been thinking about switching to using my name.

*sigh* I am undecided there. 

I wish I could have someone run the business and logistics side of everything-- post my stuff to the internet, create my logo, maintain my website, mail stuff, etc... so I could just be free to create.

Although-- I think I wouldn't mind doing all that other stuff if I didn't also have a full time job. Oh yeah, that...

This week is already proving to be challenging. There have been lots of those lately. We're nearing the end of a huge project at work, so everyone is putting in lots of hours. At the end of this week I'm pretty sure we're all going to collapse in a tired, aching heap of exhaustion. Maybe we'll have a few margaritas first.

I should have a bit of a lull over the next couple of weeks. Lulls always make me incredibly nervous. I've had a "lull" turn into 8 weeks of no work... or even longer... and with the economy being the way it is, it's difficult to not worry about it.

Things will work out. They always do.

Don't they?

Anyway, back to the actual reason for my post! I got some gorgeous tourmaline in the mail today. I've been anxiously awaiting it, and it arrived today... on a Monday... so now I have to wait all week to play with it!! Here's the strand:

Isn't it gorgeous?? You just don't see blues like that often in tourmaline. I can't WAIT to play!! I already know that what I make is likely going to go into my own jewelry box. All my best pieces do, and these beads are calling for a spectacular design, indeed.

So, I guess that's it for now. If you haven't already checked out my blog feature over at Macaroni & Glue, go check it out now! 

I have to admit that since I've opened up my blog to talk about more than just jewelry, I itch to write here far more often. I s'pose that if you actually read this blog... you've noticed that already. ;-P

Brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. They're there to stop those who don't want it badly enough. --Randy Pausch, Last Lecture

I'm glad you're here, reading. 

Thank you for taking the time out of your busy day, and don't be afraid to say hello!

On Rejection...

Well, I didn't get in to Etsy Dallas.

It didn't matter that I have a 'connection' in the group.

Granted, they only allowed 60 new members in for the entire year of 2009. 

And, granted, jewelry is a very competitive category. Everybody makes jewelry. 

I thought my jewelry was special.

Well, I still think it is.

But in a world where everyone thinks their jewelry is special... sometimes people are going to be kicked to the curb.

It's no fun when it's me.

I was also rejected from the Peddler show in Arlington.

Again-- too much jewelry.

Rejection abounds. It doesn't matter that my jewelry is unique. People just glance and think, "Oh-- jewelry. A dime a dozen. Everyone does it. Whatever." And that's that. It's difficult to make people look twice.

It's terribly discouraging. Immensely disappointing. I can't even tell you how bummed I am, but let me assure you-- I am bummed.

I just have to remember to have faith.  

And I do want my loyal customers to know something... you're all very special to me. This may sound silly, but it makes my heart pitter-patter with gratefulness every time one of my you touts my jewelry. It means so much to me that you "get" that I pour my heart and soul into what I create, and that a handful of people in this world appreciate it. It gives me the type of validation that I otherwise cannot manifest.

So, I continue to concentrate on the customers I *do* have. I am slowly trying to build that customer base. It's a tedious and never-ending process. At times I feel like everything in the world is working against me wanting to be an artist-- and the smirks and raised eyebrows I get when I call myself an artist becuase I design jewelry is not only disheartening, but added to things like the two hefty rejections I mentioned above, it sort of beats the horse dead.

One thing's for sure, though. I never, ever get a big head. 

Humility is a good thing, yes?

Yes...