I had a singular experience a few days ago. I was standing next to a piano in the living room of a ginormous, vintage home in the Avenues, talking to an extraordinarily talented Asian-American about how to make good music. We were singing and playing and pouring ourselves over pages of sheet music, attempting to prepare ourselves for an upcoming concert we'd be participating in at the U of U later this next month. Spit was flying all over the room as my accompanist, voice teacher, and I were singing, discussing, annotating, marking, crossing-out, pointing, clapping, dancing, and dissecting our way through over 100 pages of music all in the attempt of making something that someone would enjoy and remember. Notes and chords were hovering over everyone in the room like a thick fog, and Italian maxims like poco ritardando and adagio were practically falling from the sky. As my accompanist and I talked about where the music was going and where the musical climaxes may be, he said something that struck me.
"See Spencer, this is what you do in the music department." He of course was referring to college. "We're past plunking out parts on a piano. Now we become artists." It was exhilarating, even if it was a far cry from Mozart or Brahms, James Taylor or Sting, or Steeley Dan. A feeling that keeps me coming back to the piano when I don't play, or singing when my musical ear has checked out. Yes, President Uchtdorf, creation is what it's all about. There's something about making music that is so fundamental to life; even the musically disabled among us hum in their spare time. To those who know me, a cheekbone-lifting, eyebrow-raising, larynx-monitoring, chin-checking, soft pallet-policing, diaphragm-expanding, posture-correcting Spencer conjures up no strange picture. And I guess that's because we are all made of the very things that empower us. What is man? Blood, water, Spirit, energy, matter, love, and music. A perfect blending of elements to create the offspring of Deity; a child of God.
Needless to say, I left the house feeling pretty good. It's a feeling similar to leaving the gym after a good workout or even writing a fun blog; improving yourself or your talents is enjoyable, and you're always satisfied the finished product.
On this same vein but a bit removed from the music scene, our family has committed itself to running the Ragnar next year. Talk about a quest for improvement. This race alone has grown to represent a positive change in each person's life individually and in our family's collectively. The scene started innocently enough: a cool, summer's night and a congregation of family members sitting in a circle, each with his own red, plastic cup of Coke. We had been cracking jokes all night. I love that about my family; we all have the same sense of humor and we're all funny as hell. The day had been nice and we were all enjoying each other's company; a luxury that more or less remains elusive due to the fact that we're scattered all around the country. There had been scattered talks about getting together more often and then Eric dropped the bomb on us. In hopes that this would resurrect our annual family reunions and bring us closer together, he proposed that we run the marathon. I was gung ho from the beginning; others, not so much. But we decided to give it a go and the rest is history, and future. I have entered upon a quest of self-improvement to fight and overcome the Ragnar (which honestly sounds like Trogdor's temperamental uncle). It'll take all year and hopefully when all is said and done, I'll have created a new and better me.
What a time we live in. All roads are open, and all resources available. Who knows what the future holds; as a shot in the dark it waits for us. But the journey is in the making of yourself. Walking around the college campus today has taught me one thing about education and desires, the world and self. I think it dawned on me as I saw a couple trying too hard to fit a cliche: if we spend our whole lives trying to find ourselves, we'll miss our chance to be ourselves. We can be constantly improving and creating a better self, but we must know who that "self" is first or all we're doing is flying blind. Michelangelo once said in so many words when asked why he just spent hours staring at a block of marble "I have found the statue inside, now I'm just figuring out how to free it." So too, are we. With all that we make, build, or break (to use Bono's language) so becomes us.
"The opposite of War is not Peace, it's Creation." -- Jonathan Larson
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