I'm baaaaaack! (Because people are interested and I keep on getting pageviews for no reason.)

I think it's safe to say that the reason my blog has been getting so many pageviews is because of my deviantART account. I started this thing called a Nuzlocke run about two months ago and it rocked my Facebook's world, leading people to insist that I create a deviantART account. So I did. And now for some reason I got 34 hits today on this blog, despite the fact I haven't updated in forever.

Anywho, for those of you curious that don't know me at all that seem to keep on hitting up on my blog, I'm a semi-professional violist where I live and for this reason my viola can keep me busy for weeks on end. For example, last night. I played a show with Jeremy Larson that also featured Stacy Dupree of Eisley and Darren King of Mutemath. (I got to wear this awesome dress from Red Velvet, which is owned by Jeremy Larson's fiancee. But actually that's not important at all. Oh, and I also got to have cupcakes from Red Velvet. They are delicious.)

I cannot explain to you enough how lucky and privileged I was to play in the orchestra for these musicians. Darren King was not only a remarkable drummer, but also a very sweet guy with a great sense of humor. Stacy's voice was remarkable; I told her it "sounded like origami" which I think made sense to me but not quite to everyone else. She made the effort to meet each of the musicians in the orchestra. I have to confess I wasn't as starstruck as I should have been because I've solely listened to stuff on the classical music circuit, save for a few bands that I happened to come across (and a few psychedelic/progressive rock bands from the 70's and 80's.) I'm just not a big modern music listener. But now after doing a simple insertion of Mutemath and Eisley into the grand Google, I cannot believe how lucky I was to interact with these two last night.

But enough praising them. Let's move on to the magnificent Jeremy Larson. I'm really thankful for meeting him. The orchestrations that we played last night for his album "They Reappear" were heart-wrenchingly remarkable. For one song, "Empire," he brushed corners with the second movement of Tchaikovsky's 4th, which I completely adore. (Both Tchaikovsky's and Jeremy Larson's pieces were in B-flat minor, which I think increased the connection between them, but maybe that's a nerdy musician thing.) Other pieces like "Murmur/Exhale" and "Provoke" made me want to claw the edges of my chair because it was such a ride to hear them. I'm in total admiration of creepy, vicious instrumentals and these two were prime examples.

Also, Jeremy had my brother and I playing solos for two of the other songs, one called "Circadian Cues" (which really does sound like the rhythms of sleeping) and "Remission." The first one featured Kieran (my brother) more and I think the second one featured me more, or at least I was playing so much that I didn't pay attention to anything else. Regardless, on my solo, it doesn't matter how easy something is or how many times I play it...I will always get nervous the moment I perform it for an audience. But as in the past, people said I didn't sound nervous, so I guess I did alright.

These two pieces were songs that, as quite a few others put it, "would go great in a movie soundtrack."

Once again, despite being a well-accomplished musician, Jeremy was really kind and modest and really fun to be around. All the more respect dealt to him.

I think I should get done with this blogpost, because I haven't done anything all day. Also, I'm hungry, but that doesn't matter.

You can learn more about Jeremy Larson/listen to stuff of his at the following links:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jeremy_Larson

http://www.myspace.com/jeremylarson/

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jeremy-Larson/8900682290?sk=info

Herpin' derpin' derp,

Celka (aka Cellcow)

IT'S MAH BIRTHDAY!

I am now 18 years old! I can legally buy pigarettes and corn! (I think I'm going to call pigs in a blanket "pigarettes" from now on.)

So, for those of you who really think I deserve a gift on my birthday, I don't. But just in case you still want me to receive something, I've compiled a list of things I would love to have in or around the house:

Angora rabbit


Blobfish


Giant coconut crab


Yeti crab


Bigfin squid, adult version


Pelagic sea slug


Cassowary


Purple frog


Baby hoatzin (This is not a baby.)


Barrelheaded fish (aka "Spookfish")


Psychedelic frogfish (Coolest name ever!)

And last, but not least:

I may update this list later, depending on what other fantastic animal wonders I would love to have around the barnyard. This is other than the fish, which would need a large tank, and I suppose the coconut crab as well; apparently they randomly fall out of trees. I don't want one falling on me.

Wishing you a happy April 24th,

Celka

This coming Saturday...

Good morning,

It is currently 10:12 AM and I'm in Mrs. Brown's third block Art Foundations class. For this reason, I'll keep it short.

It might be noticed that I haven't written in a while. Of course, perhaps none have noticed, but I don't mind that because I didn't expect this blog to have persistent attention.

The main cause of this lack in the ability to write is my fear of discovery. Last Saturday I was banned from Facebook and dawdling on the computer in general, and the ban gets lifted this Saturday. If my parents just so happen to notice that, instead of doing things constructive, I am writing a blog which puts down my only slightly useful whims and fancies, I might get banned again. I would not like that.

I am very, very excited for this Saturday. And not just because the ban gets lifted.

I honestly have no problem with missing Facebook. That's not my concern at all. It's these Google image searches that have intrigued me (and kept me from doing laundry, which is why I'm being punished.) Facebook is a waste of time, I'll admit. I only go on to check messages pertaining to valuable school information these days (if only my parents would understand this) and unfortunately some poor sap from Willard that has seen me walking around downtown or something decides to chat it up with me. How can I refuse?

I really should.

It's 10:23 AM right now and I'm still in Mrs. Brown's Art Foundations class. I suppose I should wrap it up.

So why am I excited for this Saturday, whoever is reading may wonder?

Why, it's my birthday, of course! Happy birthday to me, in advance!

It's 10:24 AM and Dr. Snodgrass has announced that our lockdown drill is still in effect. Which means I stay in this classroom until further notice, so...

I really, really, really need money right now. Just pray that's all I get for my birthday. After going to these National Orchestra things (plus Washington, D.C. with the youth symphony) I've backed my parents' budget up a corner and now my viola teacher wants me to go to this guaranteed to be fascinatingly marvelous viola workshop in Oberlin. Susan Dubois, Kim Kashkashian...ahh. I would be so thrilled to meet them. And perhaps this would be the start to my journey into the mysterious world of severely advanced violists.

Last night I took two hours looking up different traveling options. The cheapest would be by bus. I wouldn't mind...I really, really wouldn't mind at all.

I just want both my parents and my viola teacher to be happy. My mom hates that I keep on thinking it's the expenses that inhibit me from going; to me it appears she is trying to mask her reason for a refusal of this trip by saying that it would be too complicated. The ending date of the workshop coincides with the stupid beginning of the Youth Symphony trip. I wouldn't learn anything from sitting in a bus for 17 hours (or something like that) to our nation's capital, especially compared to being in a masters class with Kim Kashkashian. I mean, it really isn't all that bad. I wouldn't miss anything on the SYS trip. It's obvious that my mom is avoiding the problem. (If she reads this I will be sooo dead.)

I'm such a vexed person right now. I'm not mad at my parents or my teacher. I'm upset that my viola has done this to my family, and I'm upset that I'm expected to grab each and every opportunity by the horns and ride it to victory. Mehhhh.

It's 10:37 AM, and I think we're going soon. I think I just need some time to chew on this. I wouldn't mind not going; I wouldn't mind going. I would mind upsetting either my parents or my teacher. I would mind if my dad can't afford to buy things just because of me. I most likely won't go, and that's fine. Even though the workshop is ridiculously cheap for me to be working with so many fine violists. Meehhhhhh.

It's now 10:38 AM, and I'm off to Learning Lab.

-Celka

SEA SLUGS!

Good evening,

I have something very important, something of which I must inform you.

It concerns pelagic sea slugs.

I came across these little beauties while plodding around in Google Images last Sunday:

This little sucker is known as Glaucus atlanticus. It grows 5 to 8 centimeters in length and can be found in East and South Coast of South Africa, European waters and Mozambique. It floats upside down on the surface tension of water. Those finger-like structures you see, called cerata, store the nematocysts this slug collects from eating the much larger Portuguese Man o' War. It therefore has a sting much more highly concentrated than any bath you could take in a colony of siphonophores. (I totally just learned that the Man o' War is not, in fact, a jellyfish.)

Not only are these things beautiful, but are extraordinarily deadly. Who would expect that from something so small in size? I find this to be incredibly fascinating.

In other news, I have officially started off my blog with the dose of images I prefer.

Yesterday I was cleaning my room. (I excitedly pretended to be an archaeologist.) Because of all the random drawings I found strewn about the room's floor, my room has officially become a walk-in art gallery.

It's a weird feeling. I had practically carpeted my room with random sketches, and now all I see is the boring hardwood floor underneath. And it's dusty. I'm not entirely sure I'm appreciative of the look, but at least I can walk. And I was getting claustrophobia. You could call me a hoarder, but only one that every once in a while has to click the File>New button only because I'm tired of working with the crappy mess I've compiled over a period of time. (The metaphor is also used to subtley describe the patience I have with writing essays on my computer.)

Now, I'm not going to say I'm an awesome artist, but I thought I would leave this post with some of the images I found on my floor that my friends probably remember.

Ohhh, the memories.

- Celka

Welcome to my Imagination Emporium!

Good evening,

After a week long of looking at unusual pictures that I searched so fervently for on Google Images, and after a week long of wanting to share these images so fervently with my friends, I finally decided I would create a blog.

This is not in the least a blog where I'll just share stuff that I found just so happened to look pretty, but I'll also post ramblings any time they come to mind. I'll post cartoons I have drawn when I feel like I'm energetic enough to go downstairs and operate my mom's scanner under her nose. I'll post jokes, musical ideas, music, paintings, photos of myself (maybe, as apparently any girl gets unusual attention on the internet,) favorite foods of the day, poems and I suppose anything that floods out from my mind's center.

Why, you may ask? I am an odd girl. My mind works in an unusual fashion, often inhibited from expressing its true trains of thought only because I have difficulty using eloquence with my speaking. I speak without intention of making people laugh and I make them laugh; I speak with intention of making people laugh and they misinterpret my sense of humor as a reason for them to feel bad for me...(from this I have discovered that sarcasm, perhaps, is not an art I use very well.) I hide behind curtains of goofiness only because I actually am trying to talk seriously but cannot...I also hide behind goofiness because to be serious is to make a situation dead or awkwardly silent in humor.

Now, I'm not blaming anybody for misinterpreting me. Dadgummit, I'm just plain weird. I feel I have a brain made up of the fragments from several others' brains; if you looked at an MRI of it, it would be a fractured collage, not a beautiful display of active and inactive areas. (I'm speaking figuratively, if "figuratively" is the appropriate word to use.) People may go on strutting the fact that a lot of folks are like that: awkward in social situations. But I am not necessarily. Sometimes I mean to be the way I am, more often than not, because I'm just...me.

I won't say I'm unique or a different kind of flower or anything of that sort. For all I know, I might be a "normal" kid that is forced to interact with only a few "abnormal" kids. I try not to judge books by their covers, particularly my own cover, because there is still so much to discover about you and me. I feel like my mind, instead of being a vessel into which knowledge is steadily pouring, is more like a maze with doors to open, doors that can only be unlocked with the keys my mentors in life give me. In discovering others I'm discovering myself. I suppose that is why I wanted to call this blog an imagination emporium...aside from the wonderful ring these words have to me, this emporium, which is my mind, is constantly exchanging stock in an attempt to stimulate its meek but growing economy.

In this case, then, I suppose you can also call my writing this blog a story of self-discovery. I type away on this post knowing full well that probably only 3 or less people will read/comment on it. I kind of just want to talk about myself, honestly. This way I'll end up knowing more about myself. Sounds good, eh?

For example, I discovered by writing this post that close to and after midnight, my usage of vocabulary becomes quite a bit more complex than I would intend to write in any other sort of situation outside of school. Please don't expect my future writing to be this eloquent, if this post is at all...it might be my fatigue that tells me I'm being too complicated for my tired mind.

I really don't know.

If you guys would like to show me your own journeys into thought, as done by blog, feel free to comment and let me know. I'd be thrilled to look at all of your own "imagination emporiums." We all have inventories in our minds unlike anyone else's, and it's due time we had an exchange.

My figurative language is getting the best of me...oof.

Well, I'm off to bed now, because I just heard my mom wake up and rustle about in the kitchen. I stayed very still so she couldn't hear the tick-tacking of my keyboard, etc. In fact, I'm on her computer, and I'm using it to stay up late to talk about myself. How rude.

I'll say then, farewell to all who might read my blog. And good luck understanding it.

With much exhaustion,

Celka