Kindness, Acceptance, and Things Like That

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)

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

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.

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....

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

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.

'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.