Cello Lady. Yoga Lady. Craft Lady. Enter my wonderland.

Guest Article: The Benefits of Yoga to Cancer Survivors by Krista Peterson

2011-06-01T08:50:00.000-07:00

Yoga has become incredibly popular due to its many mental and physical benefits. Flexibility, additional lubrication to joints, ligaments and tendons, massaging organs, detoxification, and physical fitness are all positive advantages of yoga practice. Performance of these techniques in daily life could potentially lead to an improved sense of well being in individuals of multiple illnesses.
Yoga is the practice of using specific exercises and methods that incorporate meditation, relaxation, imagery, controlled breathing, stretching, and physical movements in order to gain physical and mental control over the body, and can be used in relief of sufferers of from multiple health issues and illnesses including leukemia, cancer, and even mesothelioma, a rare form of cancer that attacks cells in the tissues lining many of the body’s internal organs called the mesothelium. Some cancer patients seek out yoga in order to alleviate the symptoms and side effects of treatment.

Cancer survivors often times feel very fatigued and have trouble sleeping for months, and in some cases, even for years, due to both chemotherapy, and radiation therapy. New studies now show yoga may be able to help patients sleep better, feel more energized, and cut back on sedative intake. Sleep medications are, at times, ineffective, and frequently have side effects, and cancer patients may not want to take any more medications. In comparison with sleep medication, Yoga can cause these patients to feel empowered, and improve the overall quality, and outlook on their lives. While yoga cannot cure cancer, stretching and breathing techniques can help to improve sleep, also relieve many muscle pains and fatigue associated with the onset of cancer.

The origin of yoga stems from India and is believed it could have been put into practice as long as 5,000 years ago. Derived from the word “yuj,” meaning union, yoga’s intention is to establish a balance, focusing on the connections between the mind, body, and spirit. This results in relaxation, and feelings of solidarity in patients, giving them a feeling of feeling whole, and on the path toward healing.
It may not be entirely clear how yoga can help cancer patients, but it may involve multiple processes. Breathing exercises for instance, can help patients cope with anxiety, nausea, and pain, and the relaxation techniques used in integrating the mind with the body are able to give cancer patients a strong sense of self control over themselves.
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Residing in Orlando, FL, Krista Peterson is a recent college graduate and aspiring writer. As a health and safety advocate, she shares a strong passion for the wellness of others in her community. Krista has been practicing yoga for 3 years and loves to encourage others to do so as well. Through her writings, she helps to spread awareness of such issues as cancer and chronic illness.

2010-08-27T02:44:00.001-07:00

Hello folks!
I just started a newsletter, finally.... if you'd like to be added to my list of contacts please click the link below:

For Email Marketing you can trust

Desiree Meets Mona

2010-02-14T03:49:00.001-08:00

Okay, so apparently my right brain is on fire. Here is episode 2! Please see the previous entry if you missed out on "Meet Desiree."

Meet Desiree.

2010-02-06T17:59:00.000-08:00

Hello!
OK, so a couple of days ago I had this random idea of starting a cartoon strip. Here it is. I honestly don't know where it came from (she's partially me, partially other people, partially I-don't-know)....Enjoy.

Kill 'em with Kindness....

2010-01-28T07:38:00.000-08:00

Last week I made a quick shopping trip to Trader Joe's in Wellesley. I don't usually go to this particular location, but I was in the area. I noticed a car just outside of the lot entrance pulled over not doing anything. I thought perhaps the woman in the car was just waiting for someone. Who knows.

Anyway, I drove past her and pulled into a spot. I checked out my rear-view mirror and noticed the same car zoom behind me and the driver raised her arm in this sort of "WTF-is-your-problem-ms-red-car-biotch" way (yes I have a little red car). I realized then that she was not really pulled over as I had previously thought; she was in fact waiting to turn right to park in the lot. So I had cut her off. Oops.

Alright, so I got out of my car, walked into the store, and saw her. Late 20's/early 30's, blonde, dressed like she has a "real" day job...you get the idea. And she gave me the dirtiest look ever. Think middle-school-maddogging. "Yowzah," I thought. "She be a pissed lady!"

Without even thinking too much, I walked up to her, put on my friendliest bright smile and said, "I am SO sorry, I totally cut you off back there! I thought you were just pulled over and I didn't realize until after you drove past me that you were waiting to go into the lot! I apologize..." Her expression softened, she gave me a little smile and said, "Thanks.... it's alright..."

Ha! She probably didn't expect that.

I almost felt like I was observing myself as a third person going through the actions of smiling and apologizing to a pretty livid stranger. Very odd yet kind of cool feeling. Try it some time. Next time someone flips you off on the road, blow them a kiss! (although that usually just pisses them off....but it is sort of fun...)

Etsy sales donated to Haiti -- deadline extended!

2010-01-23T04:51:00.000-08:00

I have decided to extend my Etsy fundraiser until Sunday, Jan. 31st! It has been quite a success so far -- over $200 of critters have been sold and 100% of that will go directly to Partners in Health. A HUGE thank you to those who have already purchased a critter! This is very exciting.

Proceeds from Etsy sales donated to Haiti!

2010-01-17T19:19:00.000-08:00

I have decided to donate 100% of purchases made this week (minus shipping charges) to Partners in Health, a really awesome organization that is providing some pretty substantial relief to Haiti. This will go on until next Saturday, Jan. 23.

Basically you get to take home a quirky critter who will remind you that YOU have helped the citizens of Haiti.

I made this announcement yesterday via Facebook and email, and so far I have raised over $150. This is pretty extremely awesome.

Funnest Footwear Ever.

2010-01-13T19:18:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I'm usually not one to go blah-blah-blahing about stuff, but this is a certain "stuff" that I must yee-haw about.

I recently purchased a deeply discounted pair of Ariat Legend Cow(girl) Boots from RueLaLa.com. Now, I have never owned a pair of cowboy boots. I have always admired them from a distance on others, but I never got around to owning a pair. My man-friend, who is a Southerner, sports a rather fabulous pair that used to belong to his father, and I must admit that these old boots (and he) have inspired me.

So I was browsing RueLaLa... and usually nothing comes up that I'm interested in... and then they had this fancy "FINAL SALE BLOWOUT" thing going on. "Oh crap," I said to myself. "I have to look." I'm glad I did. It took a few shots to get them. That is, I originally put a brown-ish pair in my "cart" but they sold out before I was able to pay. So I tried a half-size up. I was ready to pay, and then they sold out too. It wasn't looking good. But these black ones seemed oh-so-purty... so I added them to my cart. Again, my size ran out. "Shit." So again I ordered a half-size up, paid right away, and BAM, they were mine.

They are so incredibly fun to walk in. Oh my god. They are a little bit too big, but I guess that gives me an opportunity to retrieve my barely-used thick socks (see previous entry) that I purchased a few years ago.

The boots arrived in the mail just a couple of days ago and I have had two full days of fun in these puppies. Unfortunately I can't wear them convincingly with my colorful yoga pants, but they do work with jeans and less-festive yoga pants (and skirts, of course, but I have yet to try this). This is all good.

So, it seems as though my feet think that it's Halloween. Every day. It's awesome.

Reflections on the cold weather coming from a native Angeleno...

2010-01-12T06:35:00.000-08:00

...or is it "Angelina"? Whatever.

So, this is my fourth "real" winter. Before I moved to Boston, so many people said, "Oh, you're going to freeze your butt off!" or "You're going to miss LA so much once the winter hits!"... and many other life-will-suck sorts of comments and warnings.

But I must be honest, it's really not that bad.

In a given winter, there are probably three or four days where I say, "Ok, this isn't wonderful. In fact, it's quite awful." But seriously, the extreme cold (below 20s with windchill...you know, snot-freeze temp) does not last forever. Most buildings are heated (sometimes too much). When the weather is gross (snow with freezing rain and slushy stuff in the streets up to your knees), it comforts me to know that I'm not the only one dealing with it.

I believe I have the keeping-body-warm thing dialed. The key is layers. Ok, so here are my tips. I'm sure everyone knows all of this information, but it's nice to lay it out:

*A lightweight short-sleeve shirt, long sleeve shirt over that (or vice versa with the long sleeve under the short sleeve),
*Perhaps a sweater on top of that....
*A good coat.
*Tights under jeans is always a nice touch. I'm not sure how guys deal with this, although there's that lovely advertisement for women's pantyhose from Joe Namath.
*Leg warmers are awesome...
*Boots with fuzzy stuff on the inside (sorry, sleek and fashionable lady-boots don't really work. I've tried it). My first winter I didn't quite get the sock-thing down. I thought the thicker the socks, the better. Not true. Thick socks make tight boots make no oxygen make very cold feet. There must be air between the foot and boot to actually get warm.
*Arm warmers. These are a definite staple of the LadyRay uniform from October until April (sometimes May). That's why it's worth getting a few cute ones (check out Etsy!)...
*Those awesome 180 ear-muff things. I still can't believe how well those things work.
*A hat.
*Scarf. Maybe two (on the particularly bone-chilling days)...
*Gloves. I'm definitely a fan of the "convertible" gloves that are half glove-half mitten. That way you don't have to take them off all the time (like when paying for groceries or whatever).

Ok, so it's mid-January and we have about two or more months of the cold. At this point I'm definitely used to it. I am looking forward to that glorious spring day where 50 degrees feels more like 75 and everyone is shining...

Observation of the Mind Getting Super Pissed... and then Laughing it Off

2009-12-15T18:55:00.001-08:00

Last week my man-friend and I went to see the "Slutcracker" at the Somerville Theater. That's right, a burlesque take on good ol' Tchaik's "Nutcracker." I heard it was good, so I went ahead and bought a pair of tickets.

We arrived at the theater and the place was completely packed. We found a couple of empty seats up on the balcony and plopped ourselves down. In front of us was a walkway separating "our" portion of the balcony from the rows in front of us. This means nothing now, but later it will. Now, the purpose of this blog is not to give "Slutcracker" a bad review, but I must mention that I was an unhappy customer. Anyway, a few minutes before the show started, a woman sat down in front of me (across the walkway) who happened to have huge hair. I started to roll my eyes, telling myself, "Of course she sat right in front of me...right in my line of vision." The show started, and I realized there really was no way around this mass of fuzz. Man-friend and I switched seats and it was slightly better. But of course during this I start mentally comparing her hair to the un-felted wool I use when I needle-felt... wondering "Why can't she just pull it back, I mean doesn't she have ANY IDEA that her hair is a huge annoyance??"

Okay, so that was just the beginning. After I got over having this negative fantasy about dryer-filter-like hair, I started to pay more attention to the performance itself. Although it was difficult for the first 20 minutes due to the fact that many audience members arrived late and kept walking around the aisles asking "IS THIS SEAT TAKEN???" Anyway, the performance was...well, silly. The choreography was not very interesting, it wasn't "sexy" (as reviews said), and the dancing was okay at best. Going down my laundry list (while I'm at it), I may as well mention that the show was predictable, pretty boring, and not even sort of "shocking." What I did not quite understand at first was that the audience was loving it. They were hooting, hollering, and doing the whole bit. After all there were boobies of all sizes, pasties, dildos, and humping going on. Now, I'm no prude, but there really wasn't anything very interesting about these particular "raunchy" things happening on stage. Basically we felt totally out of place; we were definitely not a part of this "in" crowd that seemed to somehow manifest as its own separate part of the performance. Again, I'm not writing in order to review the show, but mentioning my dissatisfaction with everything is important.

Alright, so this whole thing was set up so perfectly for me -- a recipe of crap to allow my brain to feast on and chatter negatively about. During intermission, which we stayed seated for, man-friend and I shared our thoughts about how stupid everything was, how the audience was so ridiculous.... and how two men seemed to strategically place themselves right in front of our faces, giving us a grand view of the derrieres. That's right, middle-aged-man-ass right at face level. Total cake-topper.

Of course the mental chattering stew of negative experiences continued as I asked myself, "Why do they have to be so ignorant of their respective places in space? I mean, can't they be more mindful about where they put their butts? WTF? What is WRONG with people? This whole production, the audience, the big fluffy mass of hair..."

And then I caught myself. I noticed that my breath had become short and restrained. My neck was tense. All of these things occurred simply because I had been attaching myself to the plethora of my negative thoughts. And for what reason? Well, none. I took a deep breath, looked around at all of the smiling faces, which were stilled partially blocked by two pairs of butt-cheeks, and I reminded myself that these people were having a good time. Even though I did not agree with them or like their behavior, they meant no harm. And it was not very skillful of me to let my thoughts get the best of me.

So at this point of realization, I was able to laugh at myself and the whole experience. The ass cheeks became sort of funny. The fuzz-ball-head-lady became just a goofy lady with big hair. The performance continued to suck. OK, big deal!

We left before the end of the show (we gave up on it... and trying to navigate through a post-performance crowd didn't seem like it would be particularly enjoyable) and made our way to Orleans for a much-needed glass of wine. After our drink we attempted to exit the restaurant but were blocked by a couple of gentlemen. And who were they? Why, the same two ass-men who had just graced us with their booty-licious presence at the theater. Of course! What a perfect ending to our evening...

A Thanksgiving Unlike the Rest

2009-11-28T15:28:00.000-08:00

This Thanksgiving was quite different than nearly all versions of the holiday that I have celebrated over the years. And I am so thankful for this change.

Firstly, a teensy bit of background info. My man-friend, who I have been with for just over three years (and living with for one year) and I have never been on a vacation. So we thought it would be a good idea to take a lil' mini vacation for T-day. I did a little investigation of some cutesy New England towns and Burlington, Vermont was recommended by more than one friend. So I booked a room for two nights, did pretty much no research on any sort of touristy destinations (although I did know about Church St), and that was that.

Thursday started off with a very slippery, sweaty, and probably unsanitary yoga session at Baptiste (I go there only a few times a year... when my gym is closed...heh...). Then I went home, cleaned up, packed, and we took off. Two episodes of "This American Life," some not-so-interesting local radio shows, Ani DiFranco, and a gorgeous drive later, we arrived at our cheap hotel. This was going to be awesome.

We took a nap, and by the time we woke up it was time to find dinner. We had no idea if anything was even going to be open. So while most families in America were either consuming thousands of calories or napping it off, we were starting to get grumbly tummies. First we went to Church St, walked up and down the four-block stretch, and found nothing. Well, Old Navy was open and I asked them if they knew of any place that was open. The cashier said, "Well, I'm not sure, but if you drive down the road a bit you'll see an Outback Steakhouse. There are other restaurants too..." Yeah right, Outback. So man-friend and I headed back to the car, went driving in the direction of Outback where "other restaurants were too," and weren't finding much. We thought of getting a bottle of wine and maybe stopping at some Chinese place for take-out (there was one open place, but we're not exactly fans of greazzzy Chinese food). Well, finally we stumbled upon Trader Duke's, which is the restaurant that's attached to the Double Tree Hotel in South Burlington. This was mostly likely a better option than oily string beans and wine.

So we go inside, and the place is packed. Probably 50 families chomping down on their Thanksgiving meals surrounded by three large television screens in the bar area playing "King of the Hill," local news, and sports. Trader Duke's had been taking reservations all week and of course we did not have one, but they were able to squeeze us in. It was 6 o'clock and the host said, "if you could finish by 7 that would be great so we can fit in all of our 7 o'clock reservations." Sure, whatever. We'll be out of there for sure. We go from not being able to find squat in town to being rushed through a meal. Go figure.

The vibe of the place was interesting. Yellow-ish lighting, wood panelling, maroon carpet with "wild" patterns, gold light fixtures, and floral "art." Also I don't believe there were any non-caucasian customers. Make what you want of that one. Anyway, the menus were all set for the evening, so being a vegetarian I had one option: vegetarian lasagna. It came with stuffing, sweet potatoes, roasted veggies, rice-or-mashed potatoes-or-baked potato, and a bread roll. And apple-or-pumpkin-or-pecan pie for dessert. I don't think they squeezed enough carbs into this meal. Well, I ordered this meal sans lasagna, asked for extra veggies, chose the rice, and took the dessert to go (which I knew I was not going to eat, but luckily my sweet-toothed-man-friend did). And yes we did, indeed, order a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Also our waitress was just an added quirk to the whole experience; basically she was a huge spaz and demonstrated a variety of quasi-accents: Southern-esque, British-esque, New York-esque, and possibly more. Quite entertaining.

Anyway, the meal was actually really enjoyable. Not the food so much, unfortunately, but sitting down with my best friend and loved one is really what mattered most. We laughed at the whole deal, about how we "had to get out by 7," our lack of real plans for the weekend, how "King of the Hill" kept drawing our eyeballs to the screen (we don't own a TV), and how it was most unlike any other Thanksgiving we had ever had.

Kindness, Acceptance, and Things Like That

2009-11-25T06:08:00.000-08:00

Several weeks ago I was at Shaw's grocery store in Porter Square. After I had fetched my groceries I went to the checkout line and there was one woman ahead of me. She seemed to be in some sort of terrible mood as she almost violently pulled out her wallet to pay. The cashier was a very smily older Asian woman, who continued to smile at this scowling customer.

Pointing to the receipt, the kindly cashier said, "If you call this number on your receipt you will be entered to win a cash prize."
"I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT, I DON'T USE A COMPUTER!" replied the woman.
"Oh, you don't need a computer, you just have to --"
"NO!" And she snatched the receipt, grabbed her groceries, and stormed off. The woman who bagged her groceries most definitely threw her a disapproving look.

So it was my turn to pay, and I said to the cashier, "Well, that wasn't very nice." She just smiled and said, "I guess she's having a bad day!" I couldn't help but giggle...I thought, "Wow, what a grounded person. Most people would be pretty pissed if someone else projected all that unnecessary crap onto them for no reason."

It's so easy to have negative feelings towards others when they act unskillfully (to use Buddhist terminology). But if you try and look at it from their point of view, it's easier to have compassion for them. My initial instinct was to start cursing silently at this rude customer..."What the hell is your problem? The cashier is only doing her job and she's being totally nice and you start yelling at her..." etc etc etc. But it's so important to look beyond these actions and realize that there is a human being with a heart underneath the sheath of negativity. Perhaps she was having a bad day. Perhaps she was having a REALLY bad day and a loved one passed away. Who knows. I most certainly will never know. But assuming that this woman is inherently mean doesn't help me feel compassionate towards her. So even if there was not one remotely redeeming quality about this person, the only thing left I could do is just hope that she doesn't continue to suffer.

By the way I'm currently reading Joseph Goldstein's INSIGHT MEDITATION. It's amazing.

Books can factor into my gym-scene (finally)

2009-08-14T03:58:00.000-07:00

I have made a lovely discovery this month: I actually CAN READ A BOOK while using the arc-trainer and/or elliptical machine at the gym. For a long time I avoided doing this because I tried it once and got stupidly dizzy. I had put the magazine (?) on the useless rack in front of me, so every time I took a step my head would move about six inches while my eyeballs struggled to focus on tiny print. Completely futile. So I gave up, plugged my head-phones into the jack, and mindlessly turned my gaze to the big screens in front of me to take in those oh-so-captivating pixels.

A few weeks ago I tried again. I was right in the middle of an amazing book (Jhumpa Lahiri's NAMESAKE) and I couldn't put it down. So I brought it with me to the gym. This time I held the book very close to my face (well, a normal distance) and didn't use my arms at all to support myself on the machines. And I later discovered that HA, I can read AND work my core muscles more than I usually do. This did mean that I sweat much more than usual and so my sweat kept dripping down into my glasses, which didn't make things all that much easier.... but hey. I can certainly deal with that.

OK, I know that wasn't a terribly interesting little story, but I'm still pretty pleased about the whole situation. This means that I have read...almost six books in the last month! Me happy. All three of Jhumpa Lahiri's books (UNACCUSTOMED EARTH, INTERPRETER OF MALADIES, THE NAMESAKE), Khaled Hosseini's A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS, a short book by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (crap, I'm forgetting the name...A DEATH FORETOLD...?), and I'm almost done with LOLITA. Oh yeah, and Camus' STRANGER.

I also discovered the Somerville Public Library. Well, I had always known of its existence but for some reason I never ventured inside. Until...well, a little over a month ago.

'tis been a good month.

New Flowers and Ana Forrest

2009-04-08T04:16:00.000-07:00

Ok, so flowers and Ana Forrest are not necessarily related, but I wanted to discuss both topics in one entry. So there ya go.

Alright, so for years I have been wearing flower barrettes in my hair. Many people have commented on them... "those are so cute! Where did you get them?" I have made most of them... so I finally decided to make a big ol' batch and now they are finally for sale on my etsy page.

OK, Ana Forrest. She is an incredible yogini, teacher trainer, and generally amazing woman. She's doing a teacher training in Boston at the moment, which I am not a part of, but I am attending 8 of her morning intensives at Back Bay Yoga. They start at 7AM and last two hours, and they are most definitely intense. She is all about power, healing, and strength... so having that be at the forefront of my brain for two hours is almost a bit emotionally exhausting. Oh yes and she happens to be the arm-balance queen.

I must admit that I was first a bit frightened to take her workshops. I have heard that she can be a bit on the hard-ass side, but I realize that she does it out of love. Ana has a great sense of humor, she does make little mistakes, she is human, and she is a powerhouse of incredible energy. Here's an amazing yoga demo of her at a Yoga Journal conference.

I have six more intensives to attend and I am highly looking forward to the rest of them...

Rachel is, indeed, a yoga teacher.

2009-02-28T13:18:00.001-08:00

So I don't think I have mentioned yoga once in this entire blog. Oops.

Last April I started a teacher-training program, Yoga of Energy Flow Training (200-hours) with Daniel Orlansky, Aaron Cantor, and Carrie Tyler. I had been studying yoga with Aaron at Yoga in the Square (Davis Square, Somerville) since August 2007, and he told me about this training he was doing. Without giving it much thought I enrolled and fell in love with it immediately.

OK, that was a while ago. In October I got a gig teaching yoga to the men's basketball team at Brandeis University. Mind you, I had only taught yoga privately with a friend one-on-one; never a whole class. Especially a bunch of dudes! So here I am at 7AM on a Monday morning with a room full of very tall and athletic men... and I totally kicked their butts. It was way fun. Since then I got another gig teaching Brandeis women's volleyball team, men's/women's tennis, and I also do a weekly yoga class with the staff of the Athletic Department at Brandeis. In addition to the Brandeis stuff I have also subbed at Yoga in the Square... I hope to get my own class soon. OH YES and I also just finished a mini 12-hour training with Alice Senko. It's a "hot hatha" training which is basically the Bikram series minus the bull shit. I did the training so that I can teach/sub for those classes at Yoga in the Square. It's a very different style of yoga than I am used to doing, but I still like it a lot. It's done in a heated room... series of 26 postures.... twice on each side...good stuff.

Anyway no deep thoughts or musings in this post... not that there ever are... but I thought I'd share...

OH yes and I updated my website, finally, with a little bit of yoga info.

Needle-Felting....

2009-02-08T19:56:00.000-08:00

OK, so I have ventured into the world of needle-felting. I bought this lovely book called LITTLE FELTED ANIMALS by Marie-Noelle Horvath, purchased some roving wool and barbed needles on eBay, and then had a go at this stuff. I gotta say it's one of the most wonderfully bizarre feeling in the world to needle-felt. Basically you create little shaped dread-locks with wool (except they don't smell bad and are soft). How cool is that?

Here's how it works. You get a piece of sturdy foam (the thicker the better). You take some roving wool. Put it on the foam. Take your fancy barbed needle and jam it into the wool. Do it a lot and listen for the lovely crunching noise it makes. "TSH-TSH-TSH-TSH-TSH-TSH." Yes, just like that. After you've poked and prodded for several seconds, turn the forming-dread over. More poking. Repeat. Pretty soon you have a cute little mound of whatever. Add wool to it, do cool stuff, get creative.

Yeah.

So the needle-felted octopus that is shown in the picture above is quite a guy. And he just sold! I've only had him a couple of weeks, but he's been a fun center-piece in my funky apartment. Now he's off to New York! Actually the strange thing is that a classmate from THIRD GRADE (thank you Facebook) purchased it. Go figure!

Alright, I'll try to post more often. I promise. Wait, no I don't. OK. But stay tuned. Ish.

What I love about making stuff

2008-09-15T14:18:00.000-07:00

Making little creatures/objects/items/whatever is a very important part of my life. Sure, I go through periods where I just kind of cease to create for a while, but I know it will always come back.

Recently a woman from France commissioned me to make some guinea pigs. When I first received the request, I had to admit to myself that I was a little bit frightened. I hadn't made any creatures in several months and I had never made a guinea pig. Not one. The idea had never even occurred to me. "Oh well," I thought, "I'll just go for it." So off I went. I have now made a total of eight pieces for this woman (she's quite the collector, it seems) and I have also been re-inspired to make more critters.

I started a new series called "yoga critters." So far I have only made four sculptures, but more will be made.

Back to the title of this post... what is it that I love about making stuff? I think it's that there is no set standard except my own. As a classical musician, I have been through the wringer in terms of criticism ("constructive," as they say, of course... right... ), snotty colleagues, snarky teachers, and any other cliche-classical-musician-trait one can muster up. I have also had MANY supportive teachers, colleagues, friends, etc in my musical life, but of course the negative experiences cannot be forgotten. Anyway, when I craft I do not have to worry about someone else being competitive or lame with me. I just make stuff and that is that. If you don't like it, that's fine. As long as I like what I create (and I do!) that should be enough for the world. Right?

Ok. Have a good day.

2008-05-21T16:14:00.000-07:00

'Tis Partch season, which means an early-morning flight from Boston to Orange County and a festive layover in Dallas. Why didn't I fly to Los Angeles? I have finally flown enough times in the last couple of years to get a free flight, but of course American Airlines doesn't make it particularly easy for me. Whatever. Another change from this year is that certain family cars (my old Volvo, ahem) have been sold and so there is not a vehicle available to me. My father was kind enough to rent me a car, and for this I am very appreciative. He rented through Midway Rental, which has an office at the Airport Radisson Hotel at LAX. He also gets an amazing discount because he "knows people." Anyway, yesterday I took a Primetime Shuttle (or whatever it's called) from the John Wayne Airport in Santa Ana to LAX. The driver hauled ass and it only took 40 minutes. That was nice.

At 3 PM I arrived at Midway with all my luggage, including the adapted viola, and I was patiently waiting for the car people to pull up my records. They had no record. Then a second guy who worked there found my information, and said, "Oh, the car is in West LA." Goody. I called up Daddy-dear, put him on the phone with them, and of course he did his usual terse-tone thing (I hate that, but hey), and the guy on my side of the line said, "Don't worry Mr. Arnold, your daughter will have a car this afternoon." I felt like such a JAP. Anyway, I know that I was probably supposed to get some not-snazzy car, which is perfectly fine with me, but this particular Midway facility only had luxury vehicles. I was a little frightened.

Five minutes later, a guy pulls up in a silver 2008 Dodge Charger. It looks like this.

"Here is your rental car, Ms. Arnold."

"Oh shit," I thought. I've never driven something even remotely bling, and now I am supposed to be 100% responsible for this homey-mobile for two weeks.

So I sat my fanny inside, he showed me how to start the thing (it has a crazy not-key-apparatus thing), and I drove off. Just like an old lady with an erect back and hands at 10 and 2 o'clock. I cannot let anything happen to this car.

Before going to my parents' house in Palos Verdes, I had to stop at my favorite weird Asian store in Torrance. I parked the car, pulled out the key, and the radio and dash lights were still on. "What the fuck is this???" I called Midway and said, "Hi Freddy, this is Rachel, the girl who rented from you guys about 30 minutes ago. Can you please tell me how to turn off the car?" He kindly explained that I had to OPEN THE DOOR and then the car would turn itself off. "That's spiffy," I thought.

Anyway, I am trying to drive this thing as infrequently as possible. I have rehearsal tonight in Mt. Washington and it is the only drive I am making today. I actually walked down the hill ::gasp:: to the store today from my parents', and some random old man on his lawn said, "Is your car out of gas?" I answered, "No because I'm not driving it..."

Aside from all of this, ya'll should come to our Partch performance(s) on May 30/31st at REDCAT.

Quick random thoughts.

2008-04-11T08:11:00.000-07:00

I am graduating in a month. This is good.

Walking outside in sunny 70-degree weather gives me such a sense of pleasure, even when I am really tired.

The Diva Cup is the BEST form of menstrual protection ever. Check it out.

My cello needs to go to the cello doctor and get help.

I still do not know if I got the job in Providence...

I love teaching cello.

I want to start doing collage-art.

I love my man-person very deeply.

I got a free flight to Los Angeles on American Airlines because I have racked up enough miles WITHOUT using an AA credit card. Go me.

At some point I want to be a pet-owner again. I used to have fish, a turtle, rats, cats, dogs (at various points in my life) but it has been a while since I have enjoyed these little critters...

More clay creations need to be made. Cowgirl, dog scratching its ass on the ground, cat licking its butt, more earrings, and more cello-art.

OK, that's all for now.

Take care, kids.

Pink Village

2008-02-28T18:39:00.001-08:00

My younger brother used to attend a school in the Northeast part of Glendale during the early 1990's. We lived a few miles southwest of the school, so driving there in the 1983 blue Volvo station wagon was always a bit of an adventure. One could take surface streets to the school, yet my mother usually took the 2 freeway because it was faster and more convenient. Upon exiting the freeway we would always pass a set of houses that were situated on a hill that overlooked the city. The houses initially caught my attention because each and every one of them was pink. There was a certain mysteriousness to them that I wanted so badly to experience, yet I did not verbalize this desire until my mother finally suggested one day that we "go on a drive" after dropping my brother off at school.

"Yeah, let's drive over there," I said, pointing at the houses. "To Pink Village." What a name I had given it. There was one main road that led to Pink Village, and it seemed like a fairly unremarkable road from where I would normally gaze at it from a distance. Yet that morning the road was a winding portal that led to a beautifully mystical place that had only lived in my mind before that day.

At the top of the hill, we reached an intersection. My mother, always allowing me to make my own decisions, asked, "Which way should I turn?"

"Left!" I said, without any good reason. Shortly after that the homes were visible. Every single one of them was exactly like the one next to it. The addresses were as long as phone numbers. One of the few differences was that some homes had the garage on the left and others had it on the right. The gardens varied slightly as well. Some families chose to plant rosebushes, others had irises. I guessed that the only way the residents of Pink Village knew which garage to park in at night was to count and remember which belonged to them.

My mother and I shared a certain relief that we did not live in a place like Pink Village. "What if we lost our house?" I was certain that I would lose my house, especially because of my less-than-stellar sense of direction.

On the way down the hill, we drove near an empty patch of land that was covered in the most beautiful wild flowers I had ever seen. My mom pulled over, we got out, and walked around. I had no idea what any of these flowers were, but they were incredible.

"Pretty soon houses will be built on this land," my mother said, "and these flowers won't be here any more." This saddened me.

"Why? Aren't there enough houses in Pink Village already?"

Of course not.

We walked around a little bit more, picked some flowers, and decided to continue driving down the hill. We passed by a few more look-alike-house-villages (I did not yet know the term "tract home"), and I felt a certain nostalgia for the pre-Pink Village days. Now that I had a better idea of what it was like, I could not help but feel slightly let down.

I looked at my new bundle of flowers, and I wondered if they knew where they came from.

We never drove back to Pink Village.

Me so bad.

2008-01-09T07:01:00.000-08:00

Ok, so it's been almost a year since I have written a blog. I have no good excuse, except that "I've been busy." But that statement is everyone's easy-way-out sort of excuse. Whatever.

I'm in California at the moment. I've been here since December 24. I fly back to Boston tonight. I hate flying, but it'll be great to get back to my little cozy cave-of-an-apartment. I recorded an album with Brad Dutz while I was here (and also performed with him), sold four things on Etsy, made an assortment of crazy creations, and read. A lot. I read three Murakami books (WILD SHEEP CHASE, DANCE DANCE DANCE, SOUTH OF THE BORDER WEST OF THE SUN) and two Banana Yoshimoto books (ASLEEP, GOODBYE TSUGUMI). I also read half of TUESDAYS WITH MORRIE but stopped because it was sort of pissing me off. I took care of my dying nana for 1.5 years and reading this soap-boxy-crap about a student's relationship with an old professor just seemed kind of lame. Whatever.

Seeing family was very good, actually. My dad is on anti-depressants now so he's about 50 times nicer and less angry than he used to be. I'm not sure how brain drugs really work...is this the "real" him? Who knows, but I like him this way. It's easier on my family as well.

At the end of the month I begin my last semester at Longy. Scary stuffs. I have to give a solo recital and I will also be applying for a big-girl job in Providence, RI. Application stuff is quite scary. Letters of recommendation, fancy resume, my letter of interest, CD....it's like exposing my soul to the universe. I have to begin this stuff while I'm on the plane.

Alrighty, well I will try and keep this blog updated more regularly.

Oh yes, in crafty news, I must tell you about the items that I sold. My robot string quartet (my favorite piece by far), felt grape pin (which I made so long ago), Sylvester the Sperm-Like Snake (a crochet scarf/amigurumi/thing), and my polymer clay "Sea Lion in his Happy Place." Very nice. I also made a purchase of the cutest hummingbird ever from http://VermontFairies.etsy.com It's so cute it makes me want to cry.

Master class with Matt Haimovitz

2007-03-12T21:15:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. I played Elliott Carter's "Figment" for Matt Haimovitz, who is pretty much my favorite living cellist. He has become famous for playing solo cello gigs at non-traditional venues such as night clubs, rock clubs, and other random places. I heard an album he recorded in 1992 featuring works by Britten, Ligeti, Hindemith, and an assortment of other 20th-century composers and it pretty much changed my whole view of cello (in a good way). Anyway, he gave a masterclass at Longy today and I was fortunate enough to play for him! It was kind of sucky to sit for 1.5 hours while other people played and then BAM, dive into "Figment," but it got easier as it went along.

I also had slept 3.5 hours last night thinking about the master class. I wasn't really nervous...it was just that my stupid brain would not shut the hell up. I had a rehearsal for Shostakovich Piano Trio at 1pm (which got delayed due to not being able to find a fucking open room), and then I realized that I was more tired than I had been in a long while, so I went home. I crashed at about 4PM, fully dressed, and woke up at 6:30PM in a little puddle of my own drool. It was quite fabulous. This is an unusual occurrence, this whole nap thing, as I take about 3-5 a year. This was number 2. Anyway, I was very confused when I woke up because I thought it was 6:30 AM. I turned on the radio and learned it was in fact 6:30 PM. "Oh, that's good," I thought. "I have a paper due in the morning for my Baroque class, which I have not started, so I should probably do that." So I did.

Then I made a tiny little kangaroo (which is cooling off at the moment) out of the tiny bits of clay that I have left. I'm running out. And I won't be able to buy more until I get paid some more $ because I'm way po' at the moment. Anyway, the tiny kangaroo comes with an even TINIER purple baby kangaroo and I can't wait to glaze it and take glamour shots of it because it's just too cute. Ha.

Been making stuff....

2007-03-04T04:12:00.000-08:00

Since the erection of the new Etsy Constitution, I have been inspired to make a somewhat naughty piece. Well, the first one I made before people got psycho about censorship of "mature" items:

Then I went a tad further and made a little nude sculpture:

Her name is Sarah B. Wilkinson. Her bio can be found on my Etsy page, yet I have conveniently included it here:

HOTTEST NUDE Polymer Clay Super-Model~~

This is Sarah B. Wilkinson, and she loves hanging out naked. Although she doesn't like being completely naked, as she is sporting a hat, earrings, and a necklace. She is just glowing with excitement, as you can see from the little glitter sparkles emanating from her chocolate-colored flesh. I haven't asked her, but I've got a hunch that she had a really good night.

Sarah B. Wilkinson measures 3.25" from hand to toe (in the reclined position) and is about 2" from her bum to her head. Her limbs are supported with metal wires so that she doesn't fall apart (like in clay-matian).

Hehe....

In other Etsy news, I sold my Pig Pin:

That made me happy. :) :)

Hearing and Not Listening

2007-03-02T05:00:00.000-08:00

This is something that occurs too often. For non-musicians, this may seem like a surprising concept. However, people who can hear but do not listen are often found sitting in orchestras and chamber music groups. So much of what is taught in music is about how to make your instrument function properly. This is very important, yet the education cannot stop there. The "why" factor is not answered or questioned often enough. "Play with curved fingers." OK, why? Because it looks nice? Well, no. Curved fingers will get you the most clarity (on a stringed instrument) in fast passage work. It SOUNDS the best, it is the most musical way to tackle a specific gesture, and it works. How about a slow melodic passage? Should your fingers intersect the string at a right angle? Well, perhaps, but it sounds bad. Why? Well, most people don't even notice this fact. It is because playing at a right angle to the string involves playing with the smallest amount of pad on the fingerboard, causing a long note to sound thin and have no over-tones. Playing with MORE pad of the finger allows a longer portion of the string to be in contact with the fingerboard, allowing the instrument to resonate and produce beautiful over-tones. So how do you get more pad of your finger on the string? Well, it depends on your hand. If you have big honking fingertips, you're in luck. But if your fingers are thin, you'll have to flatten the top joint a bit. Sure it "looks bad," but if it sounds good, who the hell cares? The SOUND is the what matters.

Listening to oneself is where the music begins. It is crucial for a musician to be aware of how they sound on their individual instrument in order to play with others. When a string quartet is trying to fix intonation of a particularly gnarly passage, it is not wise to play it slowly and loudly. It is important to play softly yet with a core sound in order to hear everyone and make necessary adjustments.

I had an interesting experience in orchestra yesterday. We were doing string sectionals, and Terry King (my teacher) and Laura Bossert (his wife, who is a violin teacher at Longy and I consider her to be my second teacher) were leading the ensemble. It was revealed to me that very few people were listening. Sure the violinists were great as individuals, but when they were asked to play together, it was a total mess. This was also very depressing. Terry and Laura were very disappointed because this was an indication that the orchestra did not know how to listen. I spoke with Terry during break, and he said, "I can't fix everything. All I can do is shine a mirror to them and hope that they can do the necessary work to make changes." It kills me to play in a mediocre orchestra, because I know that it feels great to play in a great orchestra. Granted, this has only happened a few times, and my heart is not set on being an orchestral cellist in the future, but it would certainly be nice to WANT to WANT to be in an orchestra where everyone is on the same page.

Hrmph.

"Aphrodisiacs"

2007-02-25T05:54:00.000-08:00

What sayeth you, LadyRay? Are we digressing from the topics of cello and crafts? Yes. I MUST share this information with you though.

My dear neighbor, Lally, just moved out of our building. She gave me a bunch of stuff before moving, and one of items was a book called Brews and Potions: a Hand Book of Remedies, Spells, Elixirs, Cordialls, and Aphrodisiacs. It's compiled by Maurice Rickards, published by Hugh Evelyn Ltd. (London), and there is not date on the book. It's a funky little hardback book, and the pages are yellow with age.

My favorite recipe that I have found so far is by Cartoleomeo Scappi, who was a "private chef to His Holiness Pope Pius V." This what gold ol' Carty has to say about making a good aphrodisiac:

"To make a pie of bulls' testicles, take four of them and boil them in water and sale. Cut them in slices, sprinkle them with white pepper, salt, cinnamon and nutteg. Prepare separately a mince of lambs' kidney, gravy, three slices of lean ham, a good pinch of chopped marjoram, thyme, and three cloves. Prepare the pastry for the pie. Then begin to make a layer on your pie dish with the ham, then a layer of slices of testicles, sprinkle well with mince, and so on. Before shutting the pie, add a glass of wine. Put it in the oven and serve hot."

This may just inspire me to make a polymer pie of bull balls.

2 items sold today!

2007-02-24T21:15:00.000-08:00

Today I sold this lovely "Bling-Bling Black Sheep" pin and that made me very happy. Seconds later, I sold my little shovel pin and that made me even happier. :)

But now I go to bed.

Brad Dutz Quartet reviewed!

2007-02-24T06:59:00.000-08:00

Just before moving to the east, I recorded an album with Brad Dutz. Just now I found a review of it! AllAboutJazz. This is so very cool and makes me smile. :) I was fortunate enough to perform with the awesome members of this quartet (Brad Dutz, Paul Sherman, and Jim Sullivan) when I flew home to LA for the holidays.

I kind of miss doing projects like this one, but I feel that now is the time for me to focus on being a cellist. Sounds simple enough, but it's a huge thing.

I have realized that it's not WHAT I play that matters as much as how I play (and the others I play with). If the energy is present, music is there. If not, icky-poo-poo.

Beethoven revision.

2007-02-21T20:15:00.000-08:00

I have decided to start the piece up-bow rather than down-bow. I thought it would be cute to play down-bow on an off-beat, but it just doesn't quite work. Well, I haven't figured out how. So I shall stick to the norm. :)

Long Day. Lots of cello stuff.

2007-02-21T04:18:00.000-08:00

Woof. Yesterday was a rather long day. I had my orchestra repertoire class, my Baroque performance topics class, my lesson, orchestra, and then I performed in the composer's concert. My lesson was, of course, the high point of my day, yet I also got a lot out of my Baroque class. In my lesson we worked on Beethoven's 5th cello sonata in D major. This piece is quite fabulous. Especially the last movement, because it's a fugue, and fugues are one of my favorite things in the world. They are also ridiculously hard to make work well. The thing about Beethoven's music that I am learning more and more is that there is SO much musical information in every note/gesture/phrase/rest. And it is the duty of the performer to convey that meaning in a convincing manner. For example, let us take the first "statement" made by the cello at the beginning of the sonata in the first movement. It's a D major arpeggio. Big woop-tee-doo. But this is the first statement of the piece and it must be very strong and have direction. This figure interrupts the piano's sequential pattern and takes it to a new place. Within three seconds the whole musical gesture is entirely transformed from a rather stately motive and ascends in pitch while getting softer and sweeter (dolce). There are stacatto markings on the D and F# that follow a slurred pair of notes, and the motive finally lands on a high A. To go from a very "core"-sounding D on the C-string to a A on the A-string is incredibly difficult to do well. So of course this means OCD practice! I'm training myself to really enjoy every sound I make, not just play what's there. Also, for you cellists out there, I highly recommend starting the piece on a down-bow even though the first note occurs on an upbeat. This gives strength to the D. To compensate for the backwards feel of the bow, take two up-bows on the D and F# on the A-string (the notes with dots). However since these dots are under slurs, do not play "peck-ish" stacatto notes. These notes are almost a hybrid of stacatto and/portato and the bow does not actually stop on the string. Think of a brush stroking the string and then releasing just a bit of tension in the hair upon switching from D to F#. :)

Woo! That's just the first measure! Anyway, I have to go through a similar process with the whole piece. I also learned something quite interesting. Beethoven was a TERRIBLE proof-reader, and there was a lot of stuff left out. Slurs, dots, some dynamics, some other stuff. So if you're playing Beethoven's music and all of the sudden an unexpected musical thing happens that feels awkward, chances are that your instincts are correct and something is indeed awkward. If he writes a long note tied to a bunch of 16th notes and then randomly the tie is gone 2 measures later, take a look at the piano part, really examine what's happening in the music, and make your decision (sorry that sentence was way too long).

So today will be the first time I get together with the pianist and I'm really looking forward to it.

Flickr!

2007-02-17T15:09:00.000-08:00

Because I'm too lazy to post actual pics, please visit my flickr page so that you can see not only the wonderful quirky kitsch I made last night, but also the many nasty dirty piles of snow that surround me!! (the link to my flickr is at the bottom of this page).

Boots.

2007-02-17T04:29:00.000-08:00

The boot story ain't over! After walking to the bus stop yesterday in my new boots, I quickly realized that the awesome hardcore rubberness does SHIT for warmth. I was wearing really thick wool socks. but that doesn't cut ice. So during a break yesterday I went back down to Harvard Square and got another pair of boots. These ones were warm AND didn't slip on the ice. I finally own the best of both worlds. They are incredibly clunky and I think I look like a weird bird-creature wearing them, but who cares! Later on today I'm going to return the enormous rubber ones.

Yesterday I also attempted to get ice off of my car. I don't know if it's going to happen. I used a shovel thing, but then I pictured the shovel bashing my window in, so I stopped. I walked up the street to buy salt at the local convenience store, but they were all out. Apparently they will have more today, so hopefully I can dig my poor tires out of the ice before I teach at 10. If I can't get my car out, I'll have to reschedule....

Last night I was very inspired to make more weird stuff out of polymer clay. I made a little winter scene with ladybugs traveling home, a little turnip, a little corn, a little broccoli, a little shovel with a face and a heart, a 4-leaf clover, and a "buff egg man" (a little egg with muscles and weights). Pics will be posted soon.

Alright kids, wish me luck today. It's supposed to be in the mid 30's so hopefully some of these silly ice will melt.

I'm home. And alive.

2007-02-15T15:39:00.000-08:00

That cutesy-wootsy snow ain't so cutesy-wootsy.

There was a storm yesterday, which left the whole city a MESS. This isn't news to anyone who is from the area, but of course it was an ordeal for me. The part that makes it very difficult is that I have to travel with my cello on the street. At one point I did have to literally CRAWL on a pile of snow with my cello on my back so that I wouldn't fall.

My suede boots, which have been sprayed with water-repellent, have kept me dry, yet they slip like crazy. A girl at Longy recommended buying a pair of "Yak Tracks," which aid in the death-fear-factor of walking on ice. So I went to City Sports after rehearsal (with my cello et al), got a pair of Yak Tracks, and realized that there was no way I could wear these things indoors. They are metal coils wrapped around rubber that go on the bottoms of your shoes that act as little clamps in the ice. Since these little guys are only practical while en route and not on concrete, I decided to buy a pair of tall rubber boots. These came from Eastern Mountain Sports, which is a few shops over from City Sports. These boots are hefty, yet not warm. So I bought 4 pairs of warm socks. $150 later, I felt guilty but more safe than before. I took the subway home, as the bus is just too gross and I didn't feel like trudging up my block from Mass Ave after getting off the bus. I exited the subway at Davis, and realized that I had no cash and that I should probably get some and deposit a few checks. Another little trek to the bank, no big deal. Then I realized that I was almost out of fruits/veggies, so I got some at the little Indian super-market a couple blocks down from the bank. At this point I had my cello, my huge shoe-box, and my canvas tote bag. After getting some groceries (including salt for my walkway), I added 2 more enormous bags to my load. Adding a good 30 pounds or more to myself, I made the final trek home. I almost tripped only once, which is a good sign. The rubber boots (which I wore immediately after purchasing) gripped to the snow pretty well.

The moment I turned onto Cameron Ave, I felt the most genuine sigh of relief I have ever felt (I think). I only had about 2 more minutes of agony before I stepped into my lovely apartment....

And now I'm here. I can practice cello, drink tea, and enjoy the warmth in peace.

Yay blog!

2007-02-14T06:06:00.001-08:00

Ok, it's snowing outside. It has been since midnight (I think). I stepped outside this morning and everything was eerily quiet. I love how the snow absorbs street noise.

I have rehearsal at noon (at Longy) and I'm kind of scared of going out in the weather. Perhaps I'm being a ninny, but gimme a break. 'Tis my first real winter!

My cello teacher said the most excellent thing yesterday. He said, "Technique is easy stuff done really well." So beautiful. He was talking specifically about cello technique, but I think this could pertain to all aspects of life. As complicated as any system/process is, it is always made up of smaller units that make up the whole. If any of these parts is weak or lacking, the potential of the whole will be diminished.

And because most of you don't know me, my basic "deal" can be summed up in the title of the blog. :)
1) I play cello (I can't not at this point...I'm constantly inspired by new thoughts regarding music and am occasionally overwhelmed by the simple enormity of it all)

2) I balance this by making weird stuff. I've posted some pictures of my stuff, but you can also get your very OWN crafts at http://LadyRayCello.etsy.com

3) I treasure my surroundings. I try to make my world as comfortable as possible.