...this may come as a huge surprise to many of my readers, considering I haven't posted in months. Needless to say, lots has happened since my last blog entry. But I'm positive we will have considerable time to go over all of the details.
Their current giveaway, a book entitled "When Me Becomes We", will help my fiance and I with a huge hurdle:
I live in an area where the weather tends to be a bit unpredictable. Tomorrow may be clammy and peaking in the 50s. You never know. Regardless, it is definitely spring time. My college campus is filled with bright eyes and colors, shorter dresses and Docker cargo shorts. The general sense of well-being is higher, because the climax of spring gives hints to the coming of summer. My peers and I wanting to track star through finals, sell the tattered couch in our apartments that we're soon to be leaving, and prepare for another summer adventure.
Love is definitely in a challenging mode. People are either planning summer weddings or looking to get out of their current situations. For those of us who aren't at least engaged, being single during the heightened time of the year is promising. No one wants to be held down during the summer, right? The last thing you want is for your boyfriend to call you every night the week you are para-sailing down in the Cape with your Ladies Bible Study group. Freedom is a beautiful thing, isn't it? And for every one person that clamored near Thanksgiving to find a Winter boo to exchange hellos under mistletoe by Christmastime, two are fleeing love in the opposite direction, towards the call of summer's heat and sense of adventure.
Maybe I'm paranoid. It has been my experience that I will return to routine in late August with a new betrayal to deal with.
I encourage adventure. I have a deep, gut feeling that my life is destined to be an adventure. And I wouldn't dare desire to keep this kind of existence from anyone.
But, I want to give a word of caution, whether you are single or taken. Be cautious of the pull of this season. Make sure that your desire for adventure doesn't lead to you hurting someone who stuck with you through hard times. If you think it is a good time for a clean break, then do this sensibly. Know yourself.
Remember that people, although sometimes undependable, are not to be like seasons, because seasons are always changing.
You hear a song for the first time, probably one you’re driven to listen to because it’s by your favorite artist/band. The song is amazing. It’s a great marriage of harmonious melodies, beats, and personally meaningful lyrics. For approximately 2 to 3 minutes, you’re one piece of a musical bond. You wade through the song’s second verse, bridge, and hook; automatically preparing yourself for the ending of the song. You’ve already made up your mind that you’re going to put the song on repeat to enjoy it again. And then it happens…
The instruments spread their wings and soar across your heart, leaving an incredibly warm, resounding feeling behind. It’s as if they were using the song as a mere warm up.
It’s like the artist has given you a gift. As if he/she trusts the song’s melody enough to turn away the steady, watchful eye of their voice and allow it to roam and reverberate. The listener undergoes a tiny bit of sadness when approaching the end of a song.
1. My heart beats for quality time. If you don't like to invest your time in me, it is the equivalent of a slap in the face. My true friends seek to spend time with me, not just tolerate having me around.
2. I get annoyed really, really easy. And even though I am working on not showing it outwardly, I will always have an inner reaction. Kind of like rolling my eyes at you in my head.
3. I'm still waiting on my BIG MOMENT. Not sure what that means yet. I really feel there is something significant that I haven't done yet. But I know its coming.
4. I enjoy being hospitable. Like, really enjoy it. It's important to me for people to enjoy being in my home; comfortable, well-fed, and entertained. I want to have a night where people lose track of time and are at my house until the wee hours of the morning. I'm scared I'm not that interesting yet, though.
6. I have quite an ear for music. I appreciate actual instruments and harmony in a song...which is why I'm so picky of what I listen to...
7. I'm tapping into my "go with the flow" mode. I'm planning on taking a lot of chances this year, and bounce back 100% times faster if they don't work out.
10. Last year, I struggled with really wanting to get married. I haven't had a single thought like that so far this year. Now, I am thrilled I'm not getting married anytime soon. Thrilled, I tell you.
12. Above all things, God has been my counselor. I've had a pretty lonely road, so I'm glad I had/have him to release my pain to.
I've owned this book for about 5 hours and it has already started to change my life. It's fresh and successfully unhinged the glob of mortar that caused my writer's block.
It's funny how a single song...3:34 minutes of music...can change your whole perspective of a situation. That's the beautiful thing about music: it can mold, as well as express, a mindset. Most of the time, this is a negative thing, but I like to think that music was meant to inspire.
Granted, I do get in those moods where I only want to listen to Coldplay, James Blunt, and Sam Cooke. My deep melancholy is expressed in the music playlist of my choice. As it is when I'm in a romantic, praise-oriented, or thuggish mood. So, I figured I'd share my all-time favorite inspirational tracks. God knows with the cold, frigid weather we could all use a little warmth.
12. Obtained three side hustles: greeting card writer, professional blog writer, and manuscript editor
21. Had my surprised birthday plans ruined...but plan B involved spending more money at once than I ever had. Had a blast doing it.
33. Got to the 3 year mark with the bf. Many are holding their breath for the moment I get the ring..except me. :)
I have been a Christian since I was a little girl. I remember sitting in church, next to my mom and older brother, and hearing the preacher talk about the love of Jesus Christ. I'd heard many stories in Sunday School and at home about Noah and the Ark, Jonah and the Whale, and Adam and Eve. I even knew about Jesus performing miracles and coming to earth as a little baby. I loved those stories. However, it was something about that preacher's words that made me feel a warm sensation in my chest.
I knew that my parents loved me. I knew that my cousins and other family members loved me. But I felt that they kinda had to since we were born into the same family. It wasn't inconvenient, but it was obvious that it had to be the norm. But why did Jesus love me enough to give his life?
Maybe it is simply a really good story. A metaphor for how life on earth is meant to be. Maybe Jesus is simply a nice teacher who was more of an advocate for universalism than faith in One God. Maybe he didn't resurrect on the third day and his bones are tucked away in Osama Bin Laden's hiding place.Maybe it, like all other religions, are a construction of the intricate human psyche. Or maybe Buddha is just as significant as Jesus who is equal to Muhammad. Maybe god is a figment of my broken imagination. Maybe I am god and don't know it.
I don't have certainty. Philosophically, none of us can be certain of anything. But I have faith that Jesus did come to earth, as God and Man, and died for me out of love and compassion for my sins. So that I can be free in this life and the next. I have faith that that day I prayed to Jesus for the first time, he heard me and answered.
At times, my faith is made tangible. Through an unseen comfort in moments where I faced sorrow, heartache, and despair alone. Certain evidences have appeared in my life that have blatantly hinted at a truth I learned as little girl:
I am dating one of the most incredibly raw minds of this world. He sees his sporadic thinking as a flaw, but I believe that in moments where it acquires focus/purpose, he captivates the listener with a rare combination of wisdom, wit, and empathy. With that being said, it scares me when he feels that he cannot capture the respect/attention of other males. There is a part of his existence that has been backed into a corner, and I feel that speaking on his behalf would be overstepping my boundaries as the girlfriend.
His baritone has jarred me. Left me standing at full attention and ready to join him in both task and heart. While it is thrilling to watch his manhood stand out further among lesser Johns, I'm saddened that they secretly jeer at his words. And I'm unsure of the coming-of-age process. How men accept one another and respect the thoughts of another male. What convinces a male that he can stand in a man's shoes; fulfill his role, and gain the recognition of other men?
Another friend of mine is engaged. Happily engaged. And I am forced to do that "mind thing" where I remind myself that it's okay that it's not me. Because I love him, and he loves me back. I trust that he, and more importantly, God, has a great, unique, taylor-made plan just for us. I'd rather wait another 10 years, enduring a seemingly endless dating purgatory than to do things too soon.
I am finished with low living, sight walking, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, and dwarfed goals.
I won’t give up shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up, for the cause of Christ.
Using paintings and sculpture, she explores the construction of identity in a post-colonial context, in South Africa, and also criticizes stereotypes of black women.
My life is like a steady stream of chaos right now. My plate is full. Pilled to capacity with carbohydrate-rich foods, salty vegetables, and meats. Socially, I have a waiting list of people that I need to hang out with. And I'm worried about all of them.
I've been in a game of phone tag with a friend for about 3 weeks and I can't seem to have the time to talk to her.
I haven't called my mom in a week. I have 3 graduate classes that all have papers/projects due in the next seven days. I've cooked a real meal in my kitchen once this week. I'm juggling two part-time jobs and attend two small groups a week. I'm worried about using my boyfriend's gas allotment to get me back and forth to work; among his other problems that he's dealing with. I signed up to make two sweet potato pies for a dinner I'm attending this weekend. I'm in therapy (basically) and I need to start looking for an internship to get my supervision hours. My computer's at the shop to be fixed, and I need it to do homework.
I want to go home. I want to sleep. I want to bake cookies and watch The Cosby Show. I want to snuggle underneath my boyfriend's rib and not move an inch.
No matter what I do, or how hard I try, someone goes without something they need from me. I'm worried about flunking an assignment. Or being a bad friend. Or being undependable.
What do you see when you look at this picture? I mean, besides the fact that this is taken from the gallery of Tyler Perry's movie adaptation of For Colored Girls....
I think of my mother being comforted by her three sisters and their mother while standing next to the grave of my brother. I think of the great bellows of laughter coming from the hair salon that I frequented as a child. I recall the knowing glances and outstretched hands that I have exchanged with another Black woman. Granted, I have the pleasure of knowing many beautiful women...across the entire palette of ethnicity. However, there is a deeper sense of unity that I feel when I, and other Black women embrace one another. Welcome one another. Encourage and affirm one another. Because we are known to bicker and be competitive. Tear down another because her hair is natural. Or relaxed. She's too skinny or flat-chested. Or too big. Lighter or Darker. Rough around the edges or materialistic. Carrying an infant or a Gucci bag in her arms.
It's nice to have kindred arms, though we are only connected through shade, hold you up. And it may not be done intentionally, but it always feels familiar. Sometimes, I have to double-take, because I could swear that the arms of my "sistah" feels like the arms of a "sister".
I believe that the political arena was created by people to help people. And there are moments in our history where it has served that purpose. The first settlers came to this land because they didn't want to be told how or who to worship. Some say that America was founded on Biblical principles. It's no matter to me, personally, because you can hold a Bible in one hand, and still grip a whip in the other hand. You can shake the hand of a red-skinned man in a gesture of brotherhood, while concealing a rifle behind your back.
The same battle for freedom that the first Europeans sought from a harsh theocracy is being reflected in the subtle war of religious variety in America today. If you wish to build a land that is free from an established religion, then it must be just that. The tide will be determined, not by the power of the Christians, but by the heart/courage of the Christians. God decided to bring the Savior to earth during a time where one of the most feared rulers reigned. Why do believers feel that we are entitled to theocratic submission in a democracy? Go vote, yes. Shine your light, definitely. But don't think it strange when there are Muslims, Buddhists, and Atheists who are openly adamant in their faith. The existence of other faiths should not threaten yours. I believe in a God who is real, whether or not I believe in Him or worship Him. He will Be when America is long gone. He was here before its first Natives stepped on to its soil.
We need God back in our land, yes. But not necessarily back in the White House (assuming it ever was), or in the Pentagon. But in the people. The desperate, lost ones that walk the streets. The hurting and afraid that aren't even old enough to vote yet. We argue and bicker on the internet, in coffee shops, and in dorm rooms over policy but will go no further.
Our politics, though they can carry the weight of great moral conviction, has been reduced to propaganda. The same type that rallied naive Germans into slaughtering millions of Jews. Because it distracts and it prevents us from seeing what happens around us every day. Today, everyone's focus (and a pointed, accusatory finger) is aimed at Washington. I've seen with my young eyes, that it produces strife among friends. Disharmony among brothers. And contempt among citizens. I, for one, am sick of being handled by the machine.
Sure, that's pretty pessimistic/paranoid, but it only takes losing someone once without warning to get you thinking about the moments you're allowed to have with those you love.
There are times where I wish he'd come back for one more hug. One last look into my eyes to subliminally tell him that I thank God for him.
I'm not sure how it became the norm, but every time he drops me off at my house, he will wait until I get my key into the door, for it to open, and for me to turn to look at him sitting in his car...before he waves at me. And I'll wave back.
And that wave isn't frantic like a "goodbye" (you know, how you see at the end of movies...), but it's a subtle, unconscious "see you later". Which is why that first hug/touch/smile is so electric to me. It's like God gave us a gift in the form of a fulfilled "see you later".
I performed at George Mason University. Shared the stage with people who hated Christians and thinks the Bible is a joke. Left with their respect and understanding of our differing views. Had a blast.
Spent a whole day in DC, where I ate an out-of-this-world lunch at my favorite spot (Busboy's and Poets) and went to the Holocaust Museum. I've never had my heart broken over my own humanity so many times over the course of 2 hours before.
Heard dope new music...including an unnamed college jazz group who had voices that left me breathless.
Ate my first Five Guys burger. Soooo good, but will be going to the gym frequently for the next few weeks.
Taken before going into the Holocaust Museum...the Department of Agriculture reflecting off of the window...
My current, constant mood is peaceful. I've never stressed LESS before in my whole life. Yes, I was a fearful, worrisome child. But I'm starting to snuggle up next to my own psyche and finding contentment with who I am...even though I'm still in the process of painting that picture. The brush isn't in my hands anyway, so I might as well have some sense of joy.
Love is the most beautiful gift that God affords humanity this side of heaven. It can be tangibly seen, touched, and affect every area of your life…many times without your permission. Rarely, you will have the object of your affection in front of you, and you’re afforded the great privilege of expressing exactly what’s on your heart to them. You are mentally, emotionally, and spiritually in sync with another human being and are immediately (if only momentarily) able to understand why God surrounds you with people so unlike but identical to yourself. To be one of two hearts in a consistent exchange of positive regard and unconditional care. And it is beautiful because it feels right and familiar somehow…
But what of those moments where things have gotten so out of control that we look around and wonder how Love became a catalyst for such unrest and pain? What is the answer when men overstep their commitment barriers or when a woman abuses her lover’s trust? What of the victims of gossip, manipulation, and one-sided friendships? The heart that always gives but never receives anything in return…where can love be naturally applied? I am a living, breathing testimony that Jesus is the source for all healing when you’ve suffered heartache at the hands of those you love. He is truly all you need. However, what are we commanded to do with the deep, God-given, inner desire for camaraderie and acceptance? Are we to generalize our dependence on the Father by disconnecting with each other? Or is it that a part of our communion with the Father is directly connected to our bond with each other?
Even before the Fall, God declared that it’s “incomplete” that man is alone. Adam had God all to himself…and even still he was incomplete. Not quite finished. Loved and the most precious part of His creation, but still lacking an important element: a companion. Someone like him, but unique enough to exist as a separate person. Why did God take out a part of an incomplete man (his rib) to make him complete? I feel that He wants us to remember that we weren’t always separated.
I’m thinking that forgiveness and trust is not only for the wounded heart, nor for the transgressor, but for the bond broken. For the good of us all, and not just individuals. The moment I become especially distant from the hearts that divinely pump life around me, the more the voice of my own self-interest drowns out the gentle whisper of our Lord. Love can be horrible. Confusing. And the ultimate test of our lives designed to connect us deeper and stronger to each other, and ultimately, to God the Father. I am not proposing that walking away should never be an option, but we should never forget that we are human beings. And we need each other.
There is a significance that hides within the order of the seasons. Fall was not meant to preceed Spring, nor was Winter supposed to come before Summer. Each transition from one season to the next has scientific and inherent meaning.
The comfort and replenishment of Spring is not meant to last forever, lest the plants be overgrown or the earth be drowned by rain. Likewise, Winter is the necessary length to cease all things, even to the point of death. However, there is the moment when the first budding plant breaks through the melting snow...which is a sign that change is approaching. The seasons are regulated without the influence of man; showing the imminence of our God, who knows and controls all things. Just as we adjust our clothing according to season, we must also submit our lives to the seasons the Lord takes us through. In times of flourishing and in times of famine.
God never promised a continuous summer, but he asks us to stand on His loyalty and long-suffering. Rest your heart with the Sustainer of the Season and not the seasons themselves. Whether you are blinded by the glorious cloudless sky or beaten down by the tumultuous rain, peer beyond and see the Father...who remains Unmoved.
Percussionist Ian Antonio’s breadth of experience - concertizing across four continents with a wide variety of chamber ensembles, orchestras, experimental rock bands, avant-garde theatre companies, and as a soloist, conductor, and educator - has led him to develop a unique sound and approach to both performing and teaching.
Ian is a founding member of the piano percussion quartet Yarn/Wire. Hailed as "mesmerizing and dynamic” by the New York Times, the ensemble is known for the energy and precision it brings to performances of today’s most adventurous music. Yarn/Wire has appeared at prestigious venues across the globe, including Lincoln Center, Brooklyn Academy of Music, Library of Congress, Edinburgh International Festival, Barbican Centre, and Shanghai Symphony Hall. The ensemble has held residencies at institutions such as Columbia University, Harvard University, Stanford University, and ISSUE Project Room, among many others. In 2016, Yarn/Wire won 1st Prize / Open at the University of Michigan’s inaugural M-Prize, the largest chamber music competition in the world. The ensemble has premiered over one hundred new works, released nine albums, and continually advocates for this exciting emerging repertoire.
Ian is a core member of the Wet Ink Ensemble, a collective of composers and performers. Formerly the Ensemble-in-Residence at Duke University, Wet Ink most commonly performs as a septet comprised of a core group of composer-performers that collaborate in a band-like fashion, writing, improvising, preparing, and touring pieces together over long stretches of time. This approach, honed over 20 years, has led to an incomparable body of work marked by a keenly developed performance practice, played in concert with ferocity, commitment, and expressivity. In demand at both domestic and international venues, Wet Ink’s performances “combine striking stylistic and aesthetic assurance with technical perfection." (Dissonanz Switzerland)
Ian is also a member of the percussion ensemble Talujon. The group's sextet configuration allows Talujon to produce large-scale and oft-neglected percussive masterworks as well as new pieces written for the ensemble. Described by the New York Times as possessing an "edgy, unflagging energy”, the ensemble has been championing percussive music for well over two decades. Since joining the group in 2011, Ian has performed with Talujon at the Metropolitation Museum of Art, Bang on a Can Marathon, BAM Next Wave Festival, and elsewhere across the country.
From 2003-2012 Ian was a member of the difficult-to-categorize trio Zs. With Zs, Ian toured both domestically and abroad, recorded extensively, and made composed / improvised "conceptual art objects that set form and content against each other — like, say, a perfect birthday cake made out of sawdust, or a perfect hammer made out of bird feathers." (New York Times) Equally at home in lofts, basements, galleries, and festivals, Ian performed with Zs at many prominent jazz festivals including the Germany’s Moers Festival, Switzerland’s Jazz Festival Willislau, and Tokyo’s Club Unit. The band’s 2010 album, New Slaves, was named Album of the Year by Tiny Mix Tapes and appeared on numerous best-of lists.
Ian is currently a member of the faculty at Purchase College where he teaches private lessons, rep class, and a hand drumming workshop, among other duties. He also leads percussion activities for the Norwalk Youth Symphony program. In past years, Ian has been on faculty and guest lectured at Stony Brook University, Adelphi University, Montclair State University, Franklin Pierce University, 92nd Street Y, Henry Street Settlement, and the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs.
Ian has recorded over 40 albums for the Nonesuch, Kairos, Warp, Tzadik, Carrier, Social Registry, Populist, Distributed Objects, Planaria, Sockets, Hot Cup, Quiet Design, and Three One G record labels, among others. He has also performed with the International Contemporary Ensemble, Theatre of a Two-Headed Calf, SEM Ensemble, Argento Chamber Ensemble, Albany Symphony, Boston Symphony, BBC Symphony Orchestra, London Sinfonettia, Los Angeles Philharmonic, and worked with composers, conductors, and soloists such as Seigi Ozawa, Kurt Masur, Charles Dutoit, Mstislav Rostropovich, Yefim Bronfman, Helmut Lachenmann, Enno Poppe, John Adams, and Kaija Saariaho.
Ian was born in 1981 and grew up in Albany, NY, studying percussion with Richard Albagli and performing with the Empire State Youth Orchestra and Percussion Ensemble. He moved to New York City to attend the Manhattan School of Music and study with James Preiss, Duncan Patton, Christopher Lamb, Eric Charleston, and Claire Heldrich. Ian completed his studies with Eduardo Leandro at Stony Brook University. Ian holds a B.M. from the Manhattan School of Music and an M.M. and D.M.A. from Stony Brook University. He has also attended the Tanglewood Music Center and Yellow Barn festivals. At Night Music publishes Ian’s music, including solos for marimba, percussion ensembles, and audition pieces. Ian proudly plays Pearl/Adams instruments, Paiste cymbals and gongs, uses Vic Firth sticks and mallets, and Black Swamp accessories.