Renovation

From a Facebook message written to an old friend, May 31, 2011.  


You wrote about striving to rewrite your life. I think that's what we're all doing every day, trying to learn better so we can know and do better. It's an amazing undertaking, isn't it? And isn't it wonderful that we can do it?!? I thank whatever God there is for the opportunity to renew what is good in ourselves everyday and to rebuild whatever has been broken.

Sometimes, I think of my life as a stained-glass window. I spent years trying to build it according to the picture that Someone Else had in mind. It was a beautiful window, but it wasn't mine. Some things happened, and my window broke. For a while there, I didn't have the energy to do anything but sit and bemoan all the broken glass around me. It took some time, but I began to see all those broken pieces as the tools and pieces I needed to build a new window--organized from the old materials, but built in an even more beautifully authentic way. I hope that's what I'm doing, building a new window, full of light and color and shape, that can be finally revealed as mine.

Part of Your World

I was watching one of my very favorite Disney films, The Little Mermaid, with my niece and her mom last week.  She was watching and playing with her beads.  I was watching and singing along with the songs (yes, at the very top of my lungs).  At one point, when Prince Eric was on-screen, she turned to me and said, "Uncle Nic, I just love him.  I'm just gonna marry him, ok.  That would be very nice."

"That's, true, Sister Sue.  That would be very nice."

I looked at my sister-in-law, and we both laughed when I said, "Yep.  She is definitely my niece."

Who wouldn't want to part of his world?

"¿Cómo se dice?" and the Secret to Gay Sex, Part II

"Soh, Neeee-c, how be yoh moshunrife?" Miranda asked with a sly little grin.

I had no idea what she was asking me.  "Um, come again, my dear?"

"How be yoh moshunrife?"

"Um, my what?"

"Yoh mo-shun-rife!" she exclaimed.  "You know, rike yoh ruvrife?"

It clicked.  "Oh! My love--my emotional life?"

"Yeah, yore moshunrife!"

I reminded my dear young friend that, as pianists, she should know how much extra time there is for a love life, and thus, I had not many minutes to spare for a moshunrife.

Then, with a shy giggle laced with more cuteness than an Anime heroine, Miranda whispered, "Oh, Neeeeee-c!  I habbuh see-creh foh yoo.  Yoo move ow Utah, gae sex!"

I laughed.  Oh, how I laughed.  "You mean to tell me the secret to my losing my V-card is moving out of the state?!?"

"Oh, yes, yes.  Yoo move ow Utah, no prahb-rem foh yoo."  Miranda explained, "At my dohm, we habbuh no cuh-tain on ween-doh.  Across my room is an-uddah dohm room of berry sexy man.  He walk rown aur time no shirt on.  Sum time, he walk rown naek-ed"  Then Miranda blushed and covered her mouth with her hand.  "And sum time, he habbuh-nuddah naek-ed man in room."

"I go to crass wit naek-ed man.  Sum time, he walk into crass berry rate and profess-ah, he grumpy and he say 'Why yoo rate foh crass?" and he say, "I don't hab time puh pants on!'  So, see Neee-c?  Yoo move ow Utah, gae sex!"

Can't wait to move out of state.  ;)

"¿Cómo se dice?" and the Secret to Gay Sex, Part I

As I've described before on my other blog (flowerspickthemselves.blogspot.com), I spend at least five days a week, if not more, with a small and delightful group of Asian people.  They are each wonderfully gifted, driven musicians, and I am so pleased to call them my friends.  One of my dear little friends is a girl from China named Miranda.  She spent her first year of college taking an intensive collection of English-as-a-Second-Language (ESL) courses.  She writes beautifully, but her conversational language skills suffer from a very thick Chinese accent.  While her practice of the English language has sometimes been a stumbling block to her communication skills, she is the first to tease about the language "barrier" which has elicited some very funny moments in our friendship.

A fairly recent episode follows.  Just a few details to remember, dear Reader:  1) Miranda is currently attending graduate school in Ohio as a master's piano student with Italian wonder-pianist, Antonio Pompa-Baldi.  2) Miranda loves Mozart (so her compliment really meant very much to me).  3) Miranda was visiting Utah (her self-proclaimed adopted home) on break from school when this happened.

I was practicing a Mozart sonata (K. 333, for anyone who might be interested) for an upcoming performance when the practice room door opened.

"Neeeeeeeeeee-c!  Yoo prae Moh-tsah vihdy soh-gooh!  He can be yo hooss-banh!" Miranda wailed in her cheery way.  "Bach? He be my fee-oh-say, but you ken meh-dee Moh-tsah.  He be soh-gooh foh yoo."

"Oh, Miranda!" I replied,  "I don't know if I want to marry Mozart, but I'll keep playing him.  How are you?!  How is graduate school?"

"Eez soh-gooh!  Eez so hard.  Too much pieces to prae aur time."

"I'm so glad to hear that it's good.  I imagine it's difficult, but worth it.  How are you studies with Pompa-Baldi going?"

"He eez soh gooh.  Make mos bee-yoo-ti-fur pianissimos.  His Engrish berry bad, though.  Too much Itarian accent."

"So, between your Chinese accent and his Italian accent, how do you communicate in lessons?"

Miranda giggled, "Wear, he rissen to me prae, and he smire oh he frahn and he prae foh me, den I prae again."

"Wow," I said. "I guess if that works..."

"Eez soh gooh."

Miranda and I caught up a little bit.  She giggled and blushed a bit when I commented on her fabulous clothes and her uber-trendy haircut.  I asked her about her boyfriend (who stayed in UT) and if she'd seen him yet.  And, as we were discussing boys, she asked a question I couldn't quite decipher on the first--or even second or third--hearing.