A musical evening

Last night was a very musical evening, and my left pinky is telling me it was too musical. Those of you who play the fiddle would probably find it very easy to believe that I sprained it reaching a little too high (and, yes, the A was a little too sharp when that happened). I played the violin for almost an hour and I really attacked some of those tunes. "Cold Frosty Morn" and "Liberty" were insanely fast and powerful with plenty of wrong notes. Which is how I play when I'm just having fun. I played "Cold Frosty Morn" for Daddy, who remarked that it was very nice, but not really Balkan. The tune is a reel from I don't know where. Ireland or America, most likely. But Daddy likes to tease me that I'm supposed to be Matty Noble's replacement. Ha, ha. I heard that he joined the band when he was my age, but the guy is a virtuoso! I could never play that well. At least not Balkan tunes. I haven't given up that by the time I'm seventy or so that I'll be fairly good at playing Celtic tunes. Dream on...

When I wasn't fiddling up a storm (the rest of the family was at English corner and happily exempt from hearing me murder dance tunes), I was pricing various instruments at Lark in the Morning for fun. I told this to Daddy who asked me if I'd gone to America, or what? I told him it was the World Wide Web. Lark in the Morning is like a three-branch music store with locations in California, Seattle, and somewhere else (Canada? Midwest? I have no idea). I have gotten three of my four whistles there, and I really like going in there. Of course, looking at pictures of instruments online is dangerous. I'd love to try them all out! I am an instrument maniac, I think. Anyway, if I'm coming to see me, stash all your string, woodwind, and keyboard instruments (drums and brass I either can't or won't play much just because three sections is enough!) and pretend you don't have any. Joke. I don't just walk into people's houses and start playing their instruments. (except for Uncle Gary. If he's got an instrument out, it's usually, "Look, everybody, try it out!" That's why I have dim memories of trying to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" on an Appalachian dulcimer and strong memories of murdering a digeredoo...)

Who Weeps Outside My Window?

Very modified title of a Canadian ballad. It's a pretty tune, and a tragic, Romeo & Juliet-esque story. I love it. I really go for the tragic ballads. The reason? They have the most haunting tunes. Also, the words range from, "Um, how many times are these folks going to die from love?" to "Waaaa, that's really sad!" The first is what comes up once you think about it. When you're not thinking, that category splits into two: "Oh, what a jerk!" to "Ohhh, how romantic!" This particular tune falls into first category, second side track.

I don't have the exact link with me now, but it's in the Canadian & Australian page on that Contemplator website I linked you to yesterday.

A Title

Well...well...well...

As you may or may not know, come June I'm abandoning this blog and starting a new one. Although it's only March, I'm thinking of titles and motifs. My latest is a Gaelic title used by Turlough O'Carolan. Sorry, it won't be in Gaelic. I recently found out how to pronounce that title, actually! I'm trying to think up an appropriate tagline and URL...

By the way, I was just thinking about Dvorak keyboards today. I don't know why--well, actually, I do, but it's complicated as a sci-fi novel, or at least relatively. Anyway, back to Dvorak. They say it's more efficient, but I tried to learn it once and I couldn't make heads nor tails of it. Besides, can you use the keys in order to come up with a great long "word" like QWERTYUIOP? I once had a character in a silly story known as Qwerty Uiop. However, I do find research and stuff behind this stuff interesting. I had this typing program user manual that just brushed on it, and it's interesting.

Ah, yes...folk music, keyboards, Gaelic...what do you think of my mind? Pretty convoluted? That would be the nice way to put it.

Check it out

Sorry, nothing new, except that I guess I did fairly well on my report. I have to correct it and turn it in Monday. Hmmmmm. Anyhow, I have a site you can check out if you're interested in folk music like I am: Here's a link. Be warned, there's background music on this site, but it's so interesting. You can always mute your computer if you need to, but the MIDIs are really something! I like this site so much I'm going to be adding it to my link list. But in case you missed it...

P.S. If you like Irish music a whole lot, check out Turlough O'Carolan. If you really like ballads, the Child Ballads is the way to go. And if you like sea shanties or stuff like that...well, you get the idea, right?

Sound Bites

Yeah, sorry, guys, I'm just giving you short posts about anything and everything. Translation of all these posts: Nothing much is happening except normal life and a stressful but fascinating report. So I have two sound bites today (besides this introductory paragraph) that probably won't interest you anyway, but you might like to see it anyhow...here goes...

First, as you might know if you're closely related (hi, Auntie!), my father and I are writing a very dumb Star Wars story. The whole plot of it has been lost. First it was defeat the evil Resiaks, a type of alien. Then it was defeat Darth Dolor, the latest Sith. Then it was defeat Darth Sidious who faked his death. Now it's defeat Darth Murderous who suddenly turned to the Dark Side. Darth Murderous used to be Luke Skywalker. Also, Obi-Wan and Yoda faked their deaths, pretended to be ghosts, pretended to be Anakin Skywalker's ghost, and now are trying to learn Jedi ways from J.P. Patches (clown from Pacific Northwest). Luke's daughter, Annie, is not sure whether to trust them or not, when she finds out that there are some people who have also faked their deaths. So it's stupid. Very, very stupid. It gives me and Daddy something to talk about, though, as I defy the conventions of Science Fiction and leave him to redeem it, which he can't always do. Also, between us, Luke has been married twice and has six children, of varying ages and varying temperaments. Guess who Darth Dolor was?

Secondly, (and perhaps more interesting, too. Good things come to people who endure), Becky and I have started a literary club. We read books together and do writing on them. Stuff like writing to the main character, or writing epilogues, or "deleted scenes"...it's fun. We've been laughing and giggling over a book we borrowed from Aunt Iantha, and now we're going to begin on...probably...this biography of Abraham Lincoln that Becky just adores. We take turns, choosing. Next? It'll probably be Anastasia: The Last Grand Duchess by Carolyn Meyer. We're both fascinated by the Romanovs, though I wish everyone would talk about Olga, or Titania, or Maria for once. Why Anastasia? Because a lot of people thought she survived, I guess. Anna Anderson and all that. Well...maybe when I grow up I'll write about Maria. Fun...huh?

Good Writing

I am a very emotional person, but it's very hard to make me cry with the printed word. But I hadn't really read much that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had to say before. I'd read about him, but (I admit it) very few if any direct quotes. Something he wrote from the jail in Birmingham made me cry. Literally. I had tears rolling down my cheeks. That's something for you. I was crying because of the concept, but also the words themselves. They just penetrated, deeper and better than most of anything I read. Why did whoever-it-was have to shoot him?!?!

Oh, brother

It seems I don't have the same taste in books as my father. Which is perfectly all right with me except for one thing--he also judges a book's quality, not just his personal preference. Of course, to hear him talk you'd think he likes anything if it's good, but doesn't like something if it's bad. But, anyway, it seems like if a book is labled "On My Shelf" on his book blog, I am immediately either going to love it to death, or (much more often) get bored to death. Either that, or it's a home publication of terrible literary quality that I wrote. Scary. Anyhow, this brings up an interesting point: When I grow up, I'm going to write books, but how will I get them good enough to rate them on my father's shelf by their merit alone? Seems my favorite books get a "check it out" rating, or worse...Splinter of the Mind's Eye was waiting room material! (Just kidding. I have better taste in literature than that. And as for reading harmless pulpish fiction to wile away the hours of a summer afternoon, I'm hardly the most guilty of that in the family) But I write stuff like my favorite books (except Jane Eyre. Who can top that? Not I!), sooo...

Lethargy

I love it here, but I wish I had as much to do as I did at home. I'm right now in a state of lethargy because of school but mostly because of boredom. I finish school, and then I have little to do or else I'm plopped in front of the computer all the day long. Well, there's two things I can do about this: I can take a walk, or even, sometimes, go to the English library and read an abridged classic. So, I plan to do this when I can. But, unfortunately, I have to finish my schoolwork and then have it checked and I'm not allowed to leave the house without permission if my work is undone and/or unchecked. So I'm trying to do more in the morning so I have time, energy and desire to do other things besides sit in front of the computer, eat, and complain about being bored. Let's see if it works...

The Dream

"I have a dream." Dr. King's words live on past his death.

I know, I know, it's not January. But I am doing a report on the Civil Rights Movement, and so his words are ringing through my head. I am amazed by just how much happened...some things have been drilled into my head since I was a little girl, and other things I haven't heard of until now. In Seattle, there are so many community centers, highschools, gradeschools, etc. named for people: Langston Hughes Community Center, Thurgood Marshall School (grade school or middle school? Can't remember), Medgar Eavers community center. And there's more across the country--living monuments to these people and what they did and what they stood for.

May Dr. King's dream come true...

Spring has sprung!

Here in Yunnan, spring means brown hills and dry grass and dust blowing in your face. Summer means rain making everything impossibly green and soaking in everywhere. Which do I prefer? If I were from a deserty area, I would like spring, I'm sure. But being from Seattle makes summer the ideal time.

It's a sad thought to have, I know, but I realize that with spring here, winter is over. Winter's song will next come to me in Seattle, in a blue house that I hope our renters are keeping up well enough (kidding. We drove by this summer and they seemed to be doing a fine job). One more season change--that to summer--and we'll go home.

Home. We're going home. And yet we're home now. Where do I live? What do I want? When will I find out?

What on Earth?

Yeah, I know I signed my last post funny. That's because I really like the name Kae as a nickname for Catherine. But if I went by Kae, everyone would start spelling my name Katherine or Kathryn or something like that. Not cool. So, my sister, Beck, comes up with this great idea: "Why not go by 'C'?"

So, here we are: I spell it Ceigh because that's prettier than C. But I'd really like to spell it Sígh, with a Gaelic-ish spelling, but I'd probably end up getting it pronounced like "Shee" or worse. Oh, well, I don't want people thinking I sigh a lot.

Overused names

If I'm ever going to be a professional writer, I'm going to have to come up with more names to use. Oh, I know and love plenty. For women, anyway. But my love of the name Janet makes me blind to any other name...actually, that ain't so much of a problem anymore. But. But, but, but. I can't seem to come up with good names for men. I generally end up with a Jacob (called Jake) in every story as a secondary character or a villain. And what's that about names for primary characters or "good guys"? Oh, you mean Emmett...or are you talking about Nathan. Oh, you meant Emmett the XIV. I thought you were talking about the first one. Or, if the character's Irish, he's Sean or Ian. Girls are Maureen. Or Sian (with a "roof" over the a).

So, someday you're going to read a book, probably a bad one, and...guess what? There will be ten characters: Jake, Emmett, Nathan, Janet, Maureen, and Sian. And Ian, Sean, Audrey and Helen. And then there won't be any more books because my editor will object strongly to my repitition of names.

Or, maybe I will see the merits of other names. What about Nathaniel? Emery? Shawn? Ivan? Jane? Marie? Shavonne? Ellen? Aubree? Whaddya mean, they sound a lot like the characters in the last story? And that plot...isn't that awfully familiar?

All right, that's it. I hope you actually read to the end of these ramblings. It either means I have loyal friends and family, or that my writings are good, or that you were amused enough to read to the end.

Ceigh

Music. Music. My kingdom for it.

Yesterday it was Balkan music. Today it was Klezmer. Tomorrow? Either American or Celtic folk. Probably both, i.e. Atwater-Donnelly. I can't stand this. I don't want to leave, I don't want to leave, I don't want to leave...hey, won't it be nice to be home and playing thus-and-such-of-a-CD...hey, that means I'll never have that "Dali Pasta Salad" again. No, no, no, no, no, no, no...! That's an example of my thoughts.

Life is strange. It's a strange, strange world, and one side of it is so hopelessly depressing and the other so sickeningly cheerful that you've got to get it both by halves. And hopefully you get a nice even slice of each, or else you're either depressed all the time or so cheerful that nobody wants you around.

KBCS is on their pledge drive. Which meant we heard six songs on a one-hour show and the rest of it was "Pledge at the 120 dollar level and get this!" Thankfully, pledge drive only lasts one week every time. It's very amusing the first time, but after that...

On a latter note, I'm busy working on my report on the Civil Rights Movement. Interesting stuff, there. It's a wonderful story. When I say story, I don't mean fiction, I just mean that the whole movement is like a story, with a definite goal and all sorts of plot twists. But the work it takes to retell it in a nice, dignified, research paper way for a fifth-grade audience is difficult...

Bad News

What's happened to Balkanarama? Every time they make a CD, they lose members and start changing slowly. It's been interesting, up until now, but this...

Matty Noble quit. For those of you who are not quite Balkanamaniacs like my family is, he is--he was their violinist. Very talented guy, too--practically a virtuoso. I could study like crazy for years, but I could never be that good--and he was with the band since he was about my age, which shows something about his playing skill, I should say. You listen to a sample of music of practically any CD and that beautiful quavering background, or sometimes the foreground--that's the violin. The whole family laments this loss.

The first time I saw Balkanarama, it was at Crossroads Mall in Bellevue, and he wasn't there, because he was (to quote band leader and the guy who does the talking, Mike Gordon) "Somewhere in a bus on 520". Non-Seattleites, that's a really really traffic-y freeway. Anyhow, he was there the next time, and the next, and the next...I've seen the band with and without violin, and it's going to be a loss.

But. The core of the band, as I see it, is still there, and hopefully they aren't going there. And as long as they stay, Balkanarama is going to be just as high on my list of top ten groups to listen to. Because the music is wonderful.

P.S. isn't it funny? Balkanarama loses members, Atwater-Donnelly "adds" them. Look at the website (it's on my links list), and you'll see "Atwater-Donnelly. Aubrey Solo [that's the Atwater part]. Atwater-Donnelly trio. Atwater-Donnelly band. Jerimoth Hill." What's next, Atwater-Donnelly Orchestra...?

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh! 'Tis St. Paddy's day, ye lads and lassies, and here we are in China. Guess we'll have to have a wee bit of baiju to celebrate!

And here I am, a lass who supposedly loves Celtic things, not wearing green??? Ack! Don't pinch me! I'll change!!!

Yeah, have a good one. We're celebrating by watching One Night at a Museum. Which I don't think is Irish. Should I go look up some Irish actors and watch a movie with them in it? Let's see. Liam Neeson, Sorcha Cusack...

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!

How long are you going to sit around and quote Jane Eyre???

At least, that's what my sister says. I have no answer for her. I like that book!

Maybe I'll share my favorite line, later...

a new picture

Atwater-Donnelly's Photo Album has a new picture now, on top of the picture they've had up since Halloween 2005. Almost two years! But worth the wait. I really like this one. Jerimoth Hill in action! I can't wait to hear that CD...

Why?

Why do I want to publish books? When I grow up, I mean? Do I want to make sure that the whole world reads what I have to say? Do I want the whole world to know some startling philosophical truth? Do I want to make money to justify my scribbles? Or, is it one of the reasons I wanted to be an actress (long ago!); that people have given me so much I want to give other people too?

Why?

Or is it because I want to see my name in print?

Or do I want people to see what I have to say?

Or...what?

I don't know. I think there's a mixture of something selfish (though not necessarily bad selfish) and something truly wanting to give people things. I wouldn't mind writing books that make people cry...because I have read books that made me cry and I've enjoyed those because they're intense and they really draw you into the story. I want to give people something to read, to enjoy.

And yet, I know my motives are more than that. There's something selfish in here, and I don't know what it is. I don't think it's something to be concerned about--or even that's necessarily wrong. But what? What? What? Why? Why? Why?

And then, of course, there's the When? When? When? aspect of it, too. Just when, after I'm grownup, will I actually come up with a story that people will buy?

Finally, I'm trying to think of a title for my new blog, which I will start in (good grief!) less than four months now. Is Gaelic okay? (I'll see if I can spell it correctly...)

Oh, and today I learned how to say something I've been wanting to say. It describes our calendar picture: na dwa hua shi huang sih deh. That flower is yellow.

It may not seem like much to you, but I put together the sentence, and it's a little joy. The other little joy is that I understood a young woman (Hannah) when she said something about dancing. I heard tiao wu and I was so excited. I was whispering this excitedly to Mum as soon as it happened.

Two years ago, I cared about music. I still do. But there's so much else in the world; I think no one has enough time to experience everything! So much to see...and if bad things were taken away, there would still be barely any time for good things!

I digress. I'm still wondering why I want to publish...

Jane Eyre

I have just been rereading my favorite book, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. I'm not going to go look in the HTML ref to type the umlat, sorry. I have discovered what are my favorite parts, in order:

• When Mr. Rochester has the Ingrams and the other folks over
• When St. John Rivers and Jane are arguing (it gets funny once you know what will happen)
• Whenever Mr. Rochester tells his history (the history isn't so nice, but his narrative style is interesting...)
  

I really just like this book as a whole. One thing I find interesting is that Jane and others see others as inferior because of their education, and find it frustrating. What's interesting about this is that Charlotte Bronte had the same problem. She lived in Haworth all her life, practically, and by her standards, there was nobody with education to talk to. It's depressing, and while there are parts of the book that have a prejudice, (Jane thinks French people are inferior and there's also prejudice against "Creoles"--what terms, one doesn't know) this is hardly a prejudice, but more of a simple problem: if you're more educated, there comes a point when you have to draw the line or you'll lose your listener's interest and the pleasure of conversation. Interesting enough!

Oh, and the version we have has all these critical excerpts in the back of the book which are vastly interesting. You've got to read Jane Eyre, it's an exceptional book!

...I don't know all the words...

I'm gonna sing you a song,
Even though I don't know all the words.
That never stopped me before--
Even so, I don't know all the words...

I have no idea what that song is all about, but it's a beautiful song. And whatever it means, a bit of that song took on a new meaning yesterday.

Yesterday was Kiana's early birthday party. Most of the foreigners here are leaving by April, so this was sort of a farewell party, as well. What was nice was that there was a family of foreigners who left last year and are not coming back here except for this visit (and maybe another visit, but I doubt it, and anyway we probably wouldn't be there). We went to a playplace by Dico's. What was nice was that it wasn't so strict as it was in America. I know that some rules are for safety regulations, but I have been prohibited by height and age to get in a ball pit for ages. I love ball pits! So I had fun.

Preston and Alexander, two foreigner kids, began socking balls at me, and I socked them right back. I noticed a three national kids watching me. All little boys a bit older or about the same age as Preston. After awhile, Preston and Alexander left, but the boys began throwing balls at me. I was happy. In America, when I was eleven and twelve, I would play with little kids on the playground, and I had fun doing it. Parents would be asking me if I babysat, so I guess I made some sort of impression on them. The babysitting questions annoyed me some (I hate looking older than my age), but I managed to keep answering politely and pleasantly, "No, sorry." But I enjoyed playing with the kids, and it made me happy to do it again.

Anyway, it was soon chaos. Two of the boys socked balls at me and one little boy who kind of became my shadow. Two girls watched us, then began making a fort (behind the slide) and sending balls in waves towards us. Alexander showed up and also began throwing balls, crowing, "Boys against girls! Boys against girls!" It was hilarious! It was also tiring.

Oh, how I wish I was fluent in Chinese! I love to play, but it makes me feel bad when I can't understand what they're trying to say to me. Thankfully, I think it didn't really matter too much, yesterday. But I still wish...

Just a Quick Note

Classes started today. It's nice to have stuff like the cafeteria open again. And my mother is generally more cheerful when she has stuff to do.

JERIMOTH HILL (the group) IS FABULOUS! I'm going to wear out the headphones listening to their sample track. Maybe when we get back to the States...