Tag: music

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Personal Update

A Fluorescent Bathroom Scooter

An art gallery display

“As for you, you whitewash with lies; all of you are worthless physicians. If you would only keep silent, that would be your wisdom!” (Job 13:4-5, NRSV)

I went to the bathroom at work this week, and right as I walked in, there was a fluorescent pink scooter lying in the middle of the tiled floor. Some hip-hop-influenced pop was emanating from one of the stalls, and beneath the dividing wall I could see a pair of brightly colored sneakers. It felt like this guy owned the bathroom. I couldn’t help but smile. He’d turned it into his work of art for a few minutes—and I think the world needs more of that kind of color.

Honestly, universities might be the best places to find art in all of its forms. I had this conversation with Auna after she and her husband came to my vocal recital and we were waylaid by the foyer gallery. There’s still so much weirdness, as people here are reaching out to touch the world in brand new ways at their peak level of creativity before going out to be crushed by the corporate universe. (Not that college life isn’t crushing in its own ways—it just does so in a way that somehow fosters nonconformity, not the other way around.)

I think the most touching pieces of art are the ones that call us to listen—even when that listening is painful. Pictures can be loud and shake us to get our attention, or they can sit still and unassumingly whisper, “I’m here, too.” Somehow they reach us differently than text. They’re more real, more demanding. The “APOS” display by Anna Wright (Instagram: @frizz_biz) was particularly intimate. Listening to her story, I heard my own.

I don’t think being a good speaker makes one a good person, but being a good listener, willing to listen no matter what, does. It’s a shame that we put good speakers up on the podium.

It’s cruel of Auna to be leaving Utah so soon after we’ve become real friends. Good things too often come bundled with bad things, and for some reason, the things that stay with me the longest are always the things that stay with me the shortest. C’est la vie. As she’s so faithful about reminding me, it might be tough, but it must be good for the plot. ∎

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Personal Update

Christmas Card 2021

Merry Christmas! This is my first year doing a Christmas card on my own, and since I now have this public place to put my writing, I figured I’d take advantage of modern technology and make it so anyone who wants to read this can have it. (Who knows, maybe one day we’ll all be mailing QR codes on nice paper every December.)

I’m deeply grateful for the year 2021. It’s been the most difficult twelve months of my life, but a lot of good has come out of it. The positive side is often the one to be forgotten when the going gets tough, so in this letter, I’d like to reflect simply on the many gifts that this year has given me.

I’m grateful for the gift of music. Before this year, I knew that I enjoyed it. Now I know how much I need it. Nothing does as much good when times are hard. Musicians can speak to each other with a language no one else can fully understand. This year, I started taking the guitar seriously and discovered new ways of expressing myself. I met a great group of bandmates and have had so many new experiences, it’s hard to imagine myself without them.

I’m grateful for opportunities to learn. Some days I’m still blown away to wake up and have my most important job be to learn as much as possible in my field (I’m studying linguistics right now). I’m also grateful for all the beautiful things I discover the more places I look. I can attest to what Uncle Iroh once said: “It is important to draw wisdom from many different places. If you take it from only one place, it become rigid and stale.”

I’m grateful for good friends. No matter where I go, I never fail to find great, compassionate, and interesting people. Even people who are so different from me have become close friends once we’ve let each other in.

I’m grateful for memories that remind me of everything there is to hope for in life. The longer I live, the more hours, days, and years I convert from “might do” to “did do,” and I’ll never forget the people who made the “did do” into something more beautiful than I ever imagined in the “might do.”

I’m grateful for this beautiful world. Nature will always be unparalleled in its majesty, and I’m lucky to live under the beautiful Wasatch Mountains. The landscape has just been completely transformed by snowfall; everything is fresh and white, and the air tastes like Christmas. God’s creations have a unique power to help one regain one’s bearings amid the twists and turns of human society.

This year, I’ve discovered some great artists (Parachute is exactly my vibe), and my album of the year would have to be “The Struggle” by Tenth Avenue North. The album’s lyrics address the problem of evil from different angles–essentially, how can life be so bad if God is good, and why do evildoers often prosper while the humble suffer? The central theme is an affirmation that the struggle is not an accident, but a necessary and unavoidable part of life. I’ve felt that this year, and I know that my life has been made more beautiful because of the struggle.

So Merry Christmas everyone! I can’t wait to see what this next year has to offer.

Eric ∎

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Personal Update

Saying Yes

You can’t try everything before you die, but you might as well die trying.

A couple months ago, I read a lovely little biography/devotional book by Mike Donehey, one of my favorite Christian musicians. One of the suggestions he gave was to just be willing to say yes to everything that comes your way. I think the tie-in to Christian living was about allowing God to use you in the way He needs to, and He can’t do that if you’re not willing to take the opportunities He gives you. I’m a firm believer that, as Paul wrote, “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good” (1 Thess. 5:21). So I decided to give it a shot.

“Do you want to try rolling the sushi?” Why yes—not that I’ve ever rolled a sushi roll in my life before, and it will most certainly not be the most beautifully rolled sushi that has ever existed, but there’s a first time for everything. Should we go to the opera? Sure, let’s send it; I could use a good opera education. Road trip? Absolutely. Give blood? I wonder how that feels. Part-time research job? Sounds like a good idea. Go country dancing? I can at least pretend that I’m coordinated. Listen to jazz for a week? Prepare to get clobbered by tritone substitutions. Discussion group for a new history book? I loved that stuff in high school. Orchestra and local music concerts? Add to cart. Join the mariachi band? I can’t have stage anxiety forever.

I’m not writing this to make myself sound awesome, but because there’s nothing I can recommend more highly to someone trying to make sense of life in the liminal spaces. I can see the difference that trying to say no to fear has made in my life. I notice so much more of the world’s beauty, and that’s why I write this little blog. I don’t think I’ll ever be done. What will happen when I give painting a shot? Frisbee golf? Karaoke? Reading random cases from the law library? Mock swordfighting? Coding in Python?

Of course it’s impossible to say yes to everything—saying yes to an economics book was a hefty reminder that opportunity cost brings everything to a screeching halt—and there are certainly things that one shouldn’t say yes to. But I’ll be the first one to attest that life is so much richer since, when confronted with the unfamiliar, I’ve started making “yes” rather than “no” the first response on my lips. ∎