Sunday, July 27, 2014

Memoir Project

Music
Music has always been an important part of my life. As a child I began to teach myself how to play piano. Progressively, I expanded into other instruments including clarinet and singing. As time passed, I found my interests lying in other activities such as school, soccer, and theatre. Although I no longer played piano, clarinet, or sang, I found myself engulfing myself with music no matter what I did.
            As a child I was fascinated by Beethoven. First, I was obsessed with the man, then his music, then his talent. Night and day I would listen to his music. The sound created a sort of bubble of peace around me that kept me happy no matter what the day brought. I then began to learn how to play the piano myself. I started with a “book piano,” which is just a book of color coated notes and numbers attached to a baby piano. After weeks of playing with it at the store, I finally convinced my mom to buy it. “Look Ma! Listen! Listen!” I screamed as I performed "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" for the first time. “Is that you playing? Where is the music coming from Diana?” she asked, astounded that I had learned the song completely on my own. After seeing my will and determination to learn, my mom placed me in piano lessons. Three years later I stopped attending lessons. As easy as it was to begin, it was even easier to stop. I was never a very strong musician. It seemed that no matter how much I practiced, I could never complete a full song without missing a note, pausing, or forgetting which note was next. I felt discouraged. I did not understand. I thought piano playing was my calling, my talent. It seemed that my piano playing was only a peek of the life that was to come; that I would never complete something without missing a step, falling behind, or not knowing what to do next. All the while I still listened to Beethoven, hoping that in his music, I would find what I was missing. The bubble of peace remained.
            I began to listen to music more often. I installed a radio in my room and could not sleep unless it was on. I went through phases of rock, hip-hop, and reggeton. Eventually I settled down with music of my own. I found that I felt the most relaxed with indie, British rock, jazz, and still, piano music. As I developed my own taste in music, I began to rely on it more. Music was incorporated within all aspects of my daily life. Whether I was at school studying, at soccer practice, or theatre class, I was always drifting into my music. I realized that I was shutting myself away from others so gradually I lessened my music intake. I began to listen to music only when I felt truly happy or content or at times when I just needed to sing out loud to let everyone around me know how great life could be. In 2010, I took a trip to Europe. Throughout the trip I made sure to listen to music that translated the excitement and joy of every activity. Now, my entire trip is a portrayed as a short film in my mind. Every memory is extremely vivid and real. At this point in my life I was nothing but smiles. I showed no emotion other than happiness because I had no other emotions other than happiness. Then, my family hit a wall. My uncle passed away. It was the first time anyone in my family died.
It was the night of my birthday. Exhausted from the events of the day, I had fallen asleep on the living room couch in a hopeless attempt to stay awake with my sisters Isabel and Natalie. We spent the day at the Houston Zoo. Isabel, Natalie, and my brother J.R knew how much I loved the winter and Christmas time, so they decided the Houston Zoo Lights was the best way to celebrate my birthday. We were dressed in big warm coats set with gloves and scarves. After roaming the Zoo for a couple of minutes, J.R and I picked up hot chocolate for everyone as Isabel and Natalie chose seats for the Zoo Lights Christmas music concert. After the concert Natalie and I crawled through the tunnel surrounded by fish. We took countless photos posed as fish, dead fish, lions, and sharks. It was not until we were forced out by the growing line behind us that Isabel and I ran to the merry go round. We picked our favorite animals and sat along for the ride. About thirty seconds into the ride, Isabel and I decided to “animal hop,” meaning switch from animal to animal while the ride conductors were not looking. J.R’s and Natalie’s initial face of shock and fear was priceless when they saw us on completely different animals in completely different spots. Isabel and I could not stop laughing. The blur of merry go round music and laughter will forever be ingrained in my memories. It was by far the best birthdays I ever celebrated.
At six a.m. the next morning, Isabel woke me up, tears gently falling down her face while still managing to keep her composure. She informed me of the news. “Diana. I have something to tell you.” Immediately I began to cry, knowing that whatever words were to escape her mouth next could not be good. “Tio Mondo…this morning” she did not have to finish. We gave each other a long, silent hug. We stayed, motionless, lost in shock. She then informed me that she and my brother would join my parents at the hospital with the rest of our family. She told me that Natalie was going to stay home with me, and that Mary Lou, the daughter of my mother’s friend, was still on her way to be watched over as her mother worked that day. Overwhelming as it all was, I managed to stay calm, crying occasionally for short burst of times when others did. I had dealt with death of friends, but never of family members. Even with those friends, I never actually mourned. I never knew how to cry for them.  Then, with my Tio, it was the same situation. I felt as if there was something blocking me from feeling what I know I should have been feeling. That same day I went to work. My mother grew concerned. “Diana, you don’t have to go to work. Tell them what happened. You are not ok, you need to stay home.” The truth was, I wanted to go to work. I felt awkward at home. Seeing everyone show their emotions made me feel like a robot. I hated it. I wanted to be able to do the same. I wanted to cry, but really, really cry. I wanted someone to be there, to be the shoulder I needed to cry on. But, I could not. Instead, I continued to be a shoulder for anyone who needed it. It was not until the day of the funeral. I was running around making sure everyone was ok, making sure everyone had tissues, making sure there was no one left alone. I took my post with my cousin little Mondo, my Tio  Mondo’s son. It was not until the mariachi band began to play in the distance. My ears perked up as I heard the music. Then all at once, it set in. I began to cry. They were not the same type of tears I had grown accustomed to. They were strong, hot, stinging tears. My barrier had been broken.  Looking back on the events of that week, I now realize from the moment now that in that time there was no sound, no patterns that could have helped me express what I needed to. It was a time of silence, and I did not know how to conform to it in order to meet my needs. Since then, I have emotionally grown. Little by little my reservations seem to hide away. I still keep to myself in time of extreme emotion, but for the most part I am learning.
I am currently in a relationship with a guy named Bryan. We are extremely different. I love jazz, art, and fashion. He loves Spanish music, food, and sports. We constantly fight about the pettiest things. I am very stubborn and hard headed and, unfortunately, so is he. So naturally we butt heads a lot. We fight about songs, plans, homework. We fight about jobs, classes, TV shows. We fight about what we should eat, where we should go, and what we should do. More than anything, we fight about how we fight. At least we used to.  Any time I got angry I completely shut down. I would not speak to him, look at him, or listen to him. I used to get up, leave, and disappear for the rest of the day, but that caused even more issues. I chose to ignore the issue and wait until I cooled down to continue with my day. Bryan on the other hand, found that it is completely and utterly necessary to talk about the issue right then and there. He would not let me continue with my work until we solved our problems. This difference in opinions obviously caused more tension between us. I got angrier that he will not let it go, and he got angrier that I wanted to let it go. We would spend thirty minutes arguing about how we argue, “Bryan, just leave me alone and I’ll feel better and everything will be fine!” “Diana, you can’t just ignore the problem and pretend everything is ok!” and eventually move onto what caused the argument in the first place. I stay mad and so does he. We grow silent. All of a sudden I hear my favorite song. He shows me his hand and asks me to dance. We dance, I laugh, we make up. We realize how stupid our fight has been and promise to handle our issues better. We still fight about little things, but one of reminds the other of our last argument and how it was solved. We talk, we listen, and we try to fix whatever it was that got us angry. After every argument we play that same song “Yo No Se Mañana” and dance any hard feelings away.
The best memory I have with Bryan is the day we went swing dancing. First, I must explain my ultimate love for swing music and dance. I love the way the dancers move, the way they jimmy and jive. The music is also amazing. It just makes the body want to move left to right, back and forth, up and down. It makes my mind hop and bop around in happiness. Bryan, of course, knows this. So when we saw a sign for a swing dancing formal at our college, he immediately told me and began to make arrangements to go. After class we got all dressed and dolled up, Bryan never gets “into character,” but this time he did. He wore nice jeans, a button up shirt, oxfords, and a vest. I wore a polka dot, sweet heart neckline dress and red pig heels. As we were walking around campus to find the ballroom, we unknowingly mistook it for a room in a different building. We searched for the room for thirty minutes and found nothing. I was completely and utterly frustrated and sad. I could not believe we were going to miss the event I wanted so bad to attend. In the middle of my search for the right building, Bryan walked over to me, grabbed my hand, put on a song, and we began to dance. After the song he searched for the location online. He found it and we ran to the building the dance was actually located in. We got there an hour late, but it was still the best date I have ever had. Neither of us new how to dance, but we pretended like we did and danced, danced, danced.  Bryan is often extremely shy and never wants to make a spectacle of himself, but that night, he did not care who was watching. He just wanted to make me happy. We are now a part of the Swing Dance Society and we attend lessons every Tuesday. Even when he is working, he sneaks away for minutes at a time to be my dance partner. For our anniversary, I am not quite sure of all the events of the day, but he is for sure planning to take me to the Chocolate Bar in Houston for their weekly swing dance night.
My relationships with people are usually based on musical interest.  With Bryan, we began to hang out because we would always incorporate songs into sentences. Anytime Bryan said “hey” I would respond with, “hey hey hey, I’m more than just an option, hey hey hey” by Drake. Anytime I would say “hello” he would respond with “hello hello, you know I say goodbye you say hello” by The Beatles. My friends are usually found by shared music interest as well. I currently work with the Orientation Team at school, and I am constantly breaking the ice with conversations about music. I have made at least five friends with the line “what kind of music do you listen to?” So far I have met one person who actually had more to say than I did. He has been the only person I have met to teach me about music. He gave me names of artists I should like, artists I might like, and artists that are irrelevant to anything we talked about, but that I should still try. He gave me insight about the artists and what contribution they made to the world of music. On top of everything, he even gave me the name of movies and directors I should check out. He gave me their history and contributions as well. By far, Shawn is the best friend I have made in a long time. I am used to giving people musical advice and telling them about artists, but the guy let me sit back and relax as he filled my mind with knowledge.

Music is the best gift anyone could have ever given me. It has led me to find who I am and who I want to be. It has given me the opportunity to find new friends, a boyfriend, and my own personality. My eyes have been opened to the world of music, not only instrumental, but also dancing. Although I am not the best dancer, I now find myself attending swing, salsa, and samba dance lessons. Music has expanded my horizons and freed my soul from the cage it was once contained in.

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