Leveling out the playing field

Beastocity: shooting for a net beastocity of 0

Why a net beastocity of 0? Because over the past few years the deterioration of my piano skills due to the business of college life has resulted in a beastocity of 5, which translates to a beastocity of -5 because it’s bad. So I’m trying to level out my piano beastocity to 0. And with the lovely Wm. Knabe & Co. as the newest member of the Paulhan House, hopefully it shouldn’t take too long.

Growing up, our piano shared a room with the TV and so whenever I would wonder into the family room I’d glance from piano to TV and back again and settle in for a little quality piano time. I had two favorite times to play. The best time was when the house was empty. With no one home, I could play as loud, fast, and sloppily as I wanted to. I could even open up the large doors near the piano that faced the backyard and enjoy the view and the humidity as I played (which was also a sure way to make the piano go out of tune faster… like I said, no one was home:). And when my sister wasn’t around I could also play her music which was normally off limits to decrease any kind of sisterly piano-skill-comparison. My second favorite time was when my brother was going to bed. It was usually early enough to not bother anyone else in my family and my brother’s room was far enough away from the piano that, hopefully, it did more good than harm in helping him go to sleep. I’d pick some slow, dreamy piece and wish him goodnight through the music.

So, like I said, I need to work on my piano beastocity. But don’t get me wrong, it’s not for accomplishment (well just a little). Throughout my piano education I always made sure that boat weekends conveniently overlapped with piano recitals (I actually managed to miss most recitals throughout middle and high school and then made a cameo at the last recital before I left for college). But to love classical music and then stumble through the pieces you once used as an extension of your creative expression is painful. Hopefully I can someday enjoy the pieces like I once did.

So that brings me to now. Recently, my aunt offered me my grandmother’s old piano which was collecting dust at her house. After deliberating for a few months, I decided to take it and hope that I wouldn’t regret doing so. And now a piano lives in the Paulhan garage! It turns out my grandmother inherited it from a friend so the piano could date to a little under a hundred years old! So now my love for classical music has been renewed. Because my skills are only so-so, I have been living vicariously through classical music on KUSC on 91.5FM, my new love. That relationship all started because of a game of boggle… I turned on what Daniel and Lester hoped to be some soothing classical music to aid to our boggle game and out came the lively works of Rachmaninoff and Debussy. We were all surprised and rather distracted, but it reminded us of how powerful classical music can be! The next day I stumbled across KUSC and it has been love ever since. What other type of music can refresh, energize, or soothe without any words and therefore leaving your mind and mood free to travel wherever you like?

Any suggestions?

beastocity

beas.toc.i.ty
[beas-tos-i-tee]

-noun, plural -ties

1. The speed at which a beast changes over a specific period of time. Rate of change, in terms of beastocity, is often used when speaking about momentum and it can generally be expressed as a ratio between a change in one beast relative to a corresponding change in another variable. Graphically, the rate of change of a beast is represented by the slope of a line, the x-axis in varying increments of time and the y-axis as an independent variable which changes depending on the situation.

Origin:
2004-8; < style="font-style: italic;">beastocitas beast

So there you have it, the first official definition of beastocity. And if you think about it, it makes sense for me to adopt (or perhaps create) this word. I figure the amount of change I've experienced over the last three years is just a reflection of what to expect throughout the rest of my twenties. So what would be more fitting than to apply the definition of beastocity to myself for this first blog.

As a recent college graduate, I'm finally living somewhere where I'm not obliged to pack up and move every year (or three times a year if you count winter break, move-in and move-out). So along with my Florida drivers' license and my Tennessee cell phone number I'm now a working citizen of Los Angeles. Waking up at 6:13am most mornings to contemplate my deepest creative desires and what my God-given calling is as I order colored pencils and prepare Vienna Roast coffee for architects and wonder how soon change will come again (be it due to opportunity or conscience). Now, in most cases, beastocity is bittersweet. As overwhelmed as I feel at times wondering what the future holds, I am deeply grateful that I have the privilege to ponder my desires for my life. Desires to seek justice and reveal God's love through creating... things.

So, what is my current beastocity? Well, let's define it in terms of my recently most dominating y-axis: thinking. With the students gone for winter break, it has left me with a lot of down time to think. Think about jobs, volunteer opportunities, relationships, graduate school, far away family, artwork, ministry, my disorganized room and dirty car, the changing weather patterns, far away friends, my sister's approaching wedding, finances, my next haircut, and the list goes on. So, we could look at the past month (mid December/January) and plot my amount of thinking (which as doubled since the previous). Therefore with an increase of thinking by about 10 over the past month, my beastocity would be 10/1 or 10. Simple enough, right?

That leaves me to this past week... ahhh. Settling into the pattern of the new semester has been refreshing. No more excessive time to ponder the possibilities of the future but to just sit and enjoy the ride of this fresh, new season. Already I've seen how God wants to blow away my expectations for the semester and I'm so grateful.