There is No Plan B

Hello loves,

For those of you who follow Amanda Palmer on twitter (@amandapalmer), you are probably aware of the arguments that come up, and can sometimes circulate the internet, even for days. The topic this past week was on the idea of following your original dream; what you've aspired to be in your visions of your future self. This concept was put into terms most would deem realistic, though it can often lead to settling for less: A Plan B.

However, to define Plan B, we must first define Plan A.

When you're small, usually around the age of five or six, someone (a teacher, parent, legal guardian, etc.) usually asks, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Back then, you might have said a whole slew of things: an astronaut, a rock star, a doctor... You might like that job through much of your childhood, playing doctor to your dolls, putting on a show at the next family reunion to your parent's copy of Duran Duran's Notorious, or crafting space ships out of cardboard boxes in the backyard. You might like this ideal when you get a little older, possibly even looking into space camps and singing lessons when you're ten, eleven, twelve.... You might draw pictures of it, print out giant posters of famous practitioners, band heads, and the galaxy. This is not necessarily Plan A.

You might get to high school and realize you're grossed out by blood, and pass out at the sight, but find an interest in medical prognosis or psychiatry. You might not be able to hold a tune, but you're very good at guitar, and think about teaching it to your little brother. You might not be medically strong, and in that, might be unable to go into space, but you would like to at least work for NASA, because you're very good at science and astronomy. This is not necessarily Plan B.

Plan A, in a nutshell, can be anything you dream, even if your dreams carry over from when you're a small child. If you dream and aspire to be it, and want to work for it, that's your Plan A.

Plan B is sometimes what you settle for in the meantime, whether it's to make money to feed yourself, or your family, or because you're afraid of failure.

I was very much raised on the idea "Do what you love, pursue it, and success will follow", and I wholeheartedly believe in it. There is no reason you should be afraid of failure, because if it's something you truly love and are passionate about, you will not fail. True, you may stumble, or other things might strike your interest in the meantime, but that doesn't mean you can't make your dreams come true. It is possible for everyone to follow their ideals and find a favorable outcome. And it's true that your Plan A may change over time, once you have a family, or once you're comfortable where you are, but that doesn't mean that the dream shall wither away. The little girl that dreamed to be a rock star might start a business, try to find and guide young talent at local open mic nights. The space captain of his backyard, the astronaut might want to give lectures on Jupiter's moons at the University of Dartmouth. The doctor, tired of late night shifts, might move to a private practice and give physicals to young kids. This does not mean they're settling, because they're still following their dreams in a different way, in a way that may suit their needs and desires at the moment. It is not shifting from rock star to accountant, but from vivacious lover to pleasant commitment.

And subduing your dreams, in that way, might not be for everyone: many disagree that it's settling for less, and there's no denying that if that's what your heart requires/desires. It's all simply a mixture of timing and what your body and mind need to continue to function in sync, in unison with your emotions and daily routine.

Simply: There is no Plan B. Not really.

So today, or tomorrow, or even in the following weeks of summer that lay ahead, think to yourself: what do I want to do? What's my "Plan A"? Food for thought.

-MLB

Side by Side Effect

Hello everyone,

I haven't written much, if anything, in the last few months. This time I was busy with shows and volunteer work, and was muse-less when it came to my blog. Now, school has started and I'm hoping I do not fail Trigonometry. As of right now, I'm sitting in the dark of my bedroom, listening to the beautiful voices of Evelyn Evelyn and feeling emotionally vacant.

Not much has really changed.

If you don't know about Evelyn Evelyn, you should get to listening to them. They're brilliant. I'll probably spend an entire blog (another day) just commending them, but I'll give you the brief scoop as of right now: They're conjoined twin sisters that play music together, and they play an extensive collection of circus tunes, ballads, folk music and underscoring as they tell their tragic tale. However, I'm not going to go too much into that right now. They're just the opening sentiment of this blog; the real subject is an idea I've recently developed.

We all have someone that we say is "attached to us at the hip". The person I think of is my little sister and best friend, Emily. We spend a lot of time together, between sleeping over at each other's houses for often days at a time, going on trips together, sharing likes/interests, etc. We have a differences as well (religious following, habits...), but despite those, we grew close at a very fast pace. Not even three months after we met each other, we spent time together at least once a week, and slept over at each other's houses (between concerts and shows) just about every weekend. We are of a different womb, different ages, but we felt as if we were meant to be "fused at the side".

Now, here's my theory: we, the people, have relationships on something that looks like a line chart. There is, of course, a limit to this chart, and when a relationship hits its peak, it either levels or starts to go down. What defeats this idea are two types of relationships, one of them often being marriage. The issue with marriage is it can go one of three ways, generally: The first is that the couple gets too close too fast, and their levels spike. Of course, when they hit their peak, everything goes downhill just as fast. The second is hitting a high at an even pace and levels off, like other relationships. If they reach their downfall, it's very steady and controlled. The third rises slowly, day by day, inch by inch, and never has a point where it goes down. The last two are generally the type that survive. Of course, the chart is invisible, but when a relationship reaches a certain point, the drastic drop can be felt. However, the marriage idea is entirely debatable.

The second is what I call the Side by Side Effect. Compared to other relationships, it's much different. There's a peak or level that's hit, but as they reach their downfall, the relationship doesn't fall apart completely. Usually it only drops a little, but then beings to raise back to a peak, sometimes higher, before falling again. This is an ongoing cycle, and it's entirely normal and shows stability in a relationship. It sort of looks something like this:

This effect can be seen in any "attached at the side" type of friendship, and is very similar to the dynamic of siblings. They say you begin to act like the people you are with the most, and I can entirely believe it. In the little time we've known each other, we can often fill in the blanks on each other's sentences, and often have similar thought patterns. It's NORMAL, and a lot of people experience with at least one person in their life. Ever said the same something at the same time as your best friend without realizing? It's THAT. It's timing, beating, and all really relative.

Now, I could be completely wrong, but that's up to you. The dynamic of the relationship is entirely debatable. There could be NO structure, for all we know. However, I feel most things have a structure that CAN be broken down and explained, and there is reason behind everything. I'm not generally the type of person to think in graphs, but this seems entirely plausible. But, again, that's up to you. What do you feel about the relationship of your "conjoined twin", "sister self" or overall closest bud compared to the relationship you have between your spouse, teacher, or newest friend? Think about it. The reasoning of love itself may just be multiple factors, side by side. It's up to you whether you believe in this fusion or not.

But in a way, we are all connected in a similar way, ready to turn and see someone right at our side.

-MLB

When You're So Goffick, It Hurts.

Hey guys,

So my week's been a bit... unadventurous. There were much plans for the evening, but they all seemed to have disappeared before my eyes (all for different reasons). However, we're not going to dwell on the fact that I'm plan-less, completely and utterly bored out of my mind, and wondering why life is so ambiguous and such an enigma. Instead, we're gonna talk about my latest obsession: web comics, specifically one that's famously known. Some of you may read it; It's called Questionable Content.

Some of you may know it, some of you may not. In a nutshell, it's about all of these different people experiencing different aspects of life such as being an office bitch, coming to terms with your past, sarcastic jokes, and drinking exorbitant amounts of alcohol, all while trying not to pay much mind to the shenanigans or obscene wisecracks of the main character's AnthroBot, Pint-Size. It's a good read so far (I'm about halfway through the series and started on Thursday afternoon), and I would recommend it to anyone who likes witty jokes, especially ones about different parts of the music industry, as well as the sarcastic remarks. It's witty, well thought out, and the art just gets better and better in every issue.

However, even with my love for this wondering piece, I couldn't help but notice a lot of the humor is directed towards stereotyping. Most of you know what I'm talking about. I mean, we've all been through the disgraceful/awkward time of middle school and high school, and if you haven't, you've probably read some sort of high school setting teen novel or fan fiction at some point. You know the typical ones: The Jocks, The Preps, The Nerds, etc. Of course, other ones have been in and out over the years, and sometimes they change (Think of the White Rasta group in Ten Things I Hate About You... Don't they remind you of our today's Pot Heads?). Either way, no one can deny that these groups DO exist, and in the social hierarchy of most high schools (and even some colleges), they play a huge role in our society.

What I never understood (and this was a point that even ones of the characters made in QC) is why people conform themselves into these labels, most of the time. The twelve year-old girl who's uncomfortable in her body, and vulnerable to things such as peer pressure, bullying, boys, and even her parents, will squeeze into a cheerleading skirt and suddenly force herself to giggle when the girl she used to be in Girl Scouts with gets her books tossed to the floor. The eighth grader who just moved from Minnesota to New Jersey forgets the violin he loves to play and almost sets fire to the boys' bathroom with his cigarette. And how odd is it that it's never the Star Quarterback that becomes obsessed with D&D, or the Prom Queen gauges her cartilage and starts to wear all black? This is because the kids put up with the whole caste system of our modern era, and I don't understand WHY.

Take a real life example: At interning last week, we were chatting about stereotypes, a friend of mine and I, and who they've changed over the course of three years. To be more specific, we were talking about "how weird it was that what we knew as scene back in seventh grade is less of that and more of the indie fashion". Just then, this fourteen year-old girl who we've known basically worships stereotypes (because she's still in middle school and hasn't given up the idea of them yet) said, "I'm indie". Now, we all know the typical "Indie" kid (sort of a Beach Bum meets an ex-hippie in Soho, in a record store); What I would dub "Indie" would be someone who like the Independent Music scene (ie Iron & Wine, Sufjan Stevens, Belle & Sebastian, etc.). This girl likes more mainstream music, like Ke$ha and Britney Spears, and has probably never heard of any of the artists listed above. Of course, I didn't say anything, but it did make me think; Six months ago, in the winter, she said she couldn't stand how kids in her grade cared about who bought clothes from where, etc. And yet, that's what stereotyping basically is, and she thus forth contradicted herself. THAT'S THE WHOLE IRONY OF IT.

It's all incredibly relative.

I'll admit that, once upon a time, I used to do the same thing with one of my good friend, Emily. We met in seventh grade and bonded over comic books (which, people knew), but placed ourselves into the pit of the Gothic Scene. What we hadn't realized was that Goth didn't exactly exist anymore, and was more of Emo that school year. Wearing all black, people constantly made cutting motions at us, told us to kill ourselves, and were convinced we had some sort of Emo Love Affair going on (even though we looked alike and convinced most people we were cousins or sisters). We both hated it, but looking back on it, we put ourselves up for it. Even having more of an acoustic taste for music, I forced myself to try and get into Screamo and Metal (which failed miserably, although when I started listening to Rob Zombie last school year, I was rather pleased). We both wrote depressing poetry, bought the pants with all of the chains and pockets, and hung out with fangirls of My Chemical Romance and other bands that most people considered "emo" (even though, honestly, their lyrics that year weren't even CLOSE to anything depressing, though some were emotionally provoking).

The next year, it was Scene: the kind with the Hello Kitty hair pins and coon tails. We spent an entire day learning to do the colorful makeup (the only thing I got from that was the fact that bright purple eyeshadow actually looked decent on me, not to mention I was awesome at doing up a girl's face), picking out the clothes from what we had in our closets, and picking out hairstyles. I remember at one point it got a bit nasty after I cut mine into layers and Emily picked out styles that were less than suiting for her beautiful face, but I digress. We danced to techno with dirty overtones and wore fake lip rings. This face only lasted the until November or so, but it did get us to forget all the black and start wearing more colors again (however, people kept making cutting motions at us and asking if we were dating).

After high school, that sort of died down. We kind of wear whatever we wish now, and listen to whatever we wish (would Amanda Palmer, The Decemberists and Lady Gaga all be found in the same section at the record shop?). However, I cannot deny that these trying times did help me discover who I am, and I was quite surprised to realize this when I really thought about it. Something good came out of those torturous years of junior high? WHAT A SCORE. And it was fun while it lasted. All that I'm saying is that, sometimes, it just all seems a little ridiculous, changing yourself for a group. It doesn't make sense, but when you look at certain aspects of society now, you can understand why: people crave comfort.

The era is very confusing: technology is developing faster, aspects of the entertainment industry are going down the tubes (I'll post my opinions about the music industry another day), and people are having trouble just keeping a job at K-Mart. With all of this rushing by the average teenager, along with other aspects, the formula should look something like this:

Media+Pressure(Parents x Teachers)/Party - Friends + √God + Personality/Yourself

The math of a teenagers mind can easily make someone's head explode (it's worth than AP Physics AHHHHH), and it's the fact that it's so complicated that makes the older generation almost never understand the new generation. Throw in some Justin Bieber CDs and tickets to a Rush concert, and you've got yourself something really confusing that no one should ever experience. And since the world is always changing, it's always a challenge for the adults to slow down and look their children in the eye and say, "Look, I totally get you" without getting laughed/bitched at. It's unfortunate, really, but the answer to the equation is The Gap: the expanse of falling space between child and parent. Along the walls is stereotyping, bullying, pornography, and a lot of other little trinkets an adolescent sees. Everyone hits Rock Bottom before they grow up: it's just the way it is. And, for whatever reason, the climb back up to sanity causes the growth to regress and the adult-self to be blissfully ignorant to the cracks in the floor they've left behind. It all really sucks, but it's reality, if you think about it.

And that's why I'm saying it now: Guys, be your goddamn selves. Be comfortable in your skin at all costs, and don't be afraid to question yourself: everybody does. Nobody knows who they are, what they're meant to do in life, what to wear to prom the second they're born, and if they did, it would make life a hell of a lot more boring. Life sucks sometimes, but if you pick up from the bad, you'll hopefully learn enough to create the good for yourself. You can only achieve true happiness and comfort with yourself through that, so slow down and enjoy the view of what you're living: you only get it once.

That is all.

Love, Maura Lee

A Test of Time.

Evening everyone,

I haven't really blogged much, and I do indeed have en excuse for it: I've been tremendously busy with my show. It goes up next week, and we're having about three dress rehearsal in the next week or so. Also: I went traveling in the car for a total of... well, a good amount of time. Over eight hours, at least. I've been painting, had midterms, gone to a doll meet, and went to see a show. I've been to concerts, freezer-like bedrooms, and dark living rooms in which they play Paranormal Activity (the room echoed with my laughter, by the way). So, basically, in a nutshell, I've got a major in excuses. However, the true one did not come up: I'm fucking lazy.

To sum it all up in two words: I'm alive.

Let's take a peek on the concept of perception, for a moment. While reading the previous paragraph, most of you probably thought that there was a lot going on. And it's true, there is a lot going on. However, this doesn't avert the fact that I don't let it glide by, and that I still try to live my life in the most hectic of times. I've never been the type to study my ass off, or practice until my fingers fall off from the keyboard in the dining room. It's just not me, and I don't really see how anyone else can do it and remain sane.

Anyway, this perhaps proves from the fact that majority of people are surface viewers. I'm not saying you guys are, but we have to admit that not a lot of people go into detail these days. This can go towards anything, including my previous posts about love and The Golden Globes. A good chunk of people would view love, especially in my age group, as "unlikely". Not a possibility. Not true to heart. This can be true with some couples, but we can only really see that once we look at the big picture. Perhaps he's cheating on her. Maybe she thought he dressed funny. It could even be a mutual breakup, and they thought kissing each other was too awkward. Moving on: none of this is probably evident unless you talk to the person. That's why I don't understand how teachers, and even parents, can make judgements such as, "It's not the end of the world. It wasn't real love anyway."

Even if the love was for a moment, a single second, it was still there. They still had a passion for one another, and maybe it wasn't just because they didn't want to keep their pants on. And even so, even if it wasn't "real love", it still could hurt the person deeply. They still feel it was true, just for that moment, even if the other didn't feel it. Singular love can be painful, and sometimes, it's best not to just make judgements and just go, "You'll get over it." It may not seem that way to them, and they still need that recovery time. That goes for, not only couples, but in friendship as well.

And as for the Golden Globes, obviously people made some crude judgements that were extremely unnecessary. We already know what they are, and there's no need to discuss them now. I have my opinion (you've heard it already, and if you haven't read the last blog post Say What You Will: I am the Kill.), and you have yours. There's no reason to go at it on this post. That's not what it's for.

So: be honest with yourself. Look past the illusion, and watch the big picture. Life goes by too fast for you to miss all of the details, and sometimes, this tour around the museum of life is gonna speed up ahead of you. Linger for a moment, look at the abstract upside down before you scoff and walk away towards the group. Sometimes, you might see something really beautiful.

Oh, and for those who didn't know: The Kindle might as well be good as dead. The iPad's gonna beat it out within the season, and that's because of the price, and conveniency. Think about it: if college textbooks become available on these things, won't it make college just that little bit easier for incoming freshmen next semester? Food for thought.

Goodnight, little rascals.

Love, Maura.

Say What You Will: I Am the Kill.

Evening comrades,

All righty, so, today, I was sitting in art, doing absolutely nothing. I had finished my project, and had gone up to the library for about fifteen minutes to use the copy machine to copy sheet music. It was a bit unadventurous, though the copier was being a bitch and cutting off random parts, and I mainly spent the rest of the period checking my twitter updates on my phone. There were several links, and I clicked on them, which lead me to some very, what should we call them... interesting articles.

For those who are just tuning in: as I'm sure a lot of us are aware, Neil Gaiman was at the Golden Globes for the Coraline nomination (though, they didn't win, UP won and it was announced by Mister Paul McCartney). For those familiar, he and Amanda Palmer recently got engaged, and I was following the twitter updates for most of the night, seeing the photos and such from the event. Several articles happened to be about events later in the evening. (In a nutshell: AFP changed dresses on the red carpet).

However, what bothered me was not the act, but all of the hullabaloo. People were ranting about how disgraceful it was, how they didn't care who she was, etcetera, etcetera... After reading comments for about ten minutes, this posted started to form in my head. Here's a question for you guys reading this: who CARES? Why does it concern the entire world?

And who are people to call these things "uncouth" or "un-classy"? It doesn't make sense. What I see is someone who's confident enough to at least be herself, not caring what other people think, and honestly, I can agree. Why SHOULD people care? Why are we becoming a society in which we care simply about status and appearance, and not for who we are as human beings? God, or evolution even, gave humans the ability to vary for a reason. We have personalities for a reason. The world would be so boring without, well, us being us.

The moral of the story, children: Be yourself. Whether it be you wearing a hemp dress, black lipstick, a gorgeous dress without a slip, or a dress made of bubbles, don't be afraid of who you are on the outside, nonetheless on the inside. Laugh in the middle of nowhere. Tell corny jokes. Dance in the city streets on a rainy day. Eat a bagel with lots of peanut butter. Hell, eat two! Just don't be afraid of who you are now, and who you're bound to become. Surely, it should be something beautiful. Just embrace it, and love it with all of your might. Share who you are with others.

A brilliant man once said, "Be who you are, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." The man's name was Ted Geisel, otherwise known as Doctor Seuss, who's work has lived on well beyond several generations of people. It's food for thought, people. Feed your subconscious. There's nothing to fear in your true self, not even being considered "outrageous". Just enjoy your life, and forget what other people think. And yes, people may fear your newfound originality, but you know what? They're all conformist weenies anyway, and perhaps they deserve a good trip to the local coffee shop for some spice and a little adventure.

After all, ADVENTURE IS OUT THERE!

Love, Maura Lee

The World Spins Madly On.

Evening comrades,

Over the last hour or so, I've really been giving thought to certain aspects and supposed threats of what life holds in a future. I've mulled over the torture of the heart, and the classic Butterfly Syndrome. I've remembered heartbreak and life itself. Yes folks, I'm talking about love.

Winnie and Piglet once had a conversation that went like this...

Piglet: How do you spell love?

Winnie: You don't spell it. You feel it.

Childish as it may seem, these Hundred Acre Woodlands are speaking the truth. Love isn't a fact, nor an opinion. Love isn't necessarily one specific feeling. Love is whatever you want to make of it. It's heartbreak. It's pain. It's also joy and happiness. And laughter. Nothing is, necessarily, not love, but nothing is definite love either. Love is not definitive, nor indecisive. It just is.

The thing that's tricky with love is that it can dwindle, yet it will linger in the background. You need to be able to let love go, so that it can grow. That, my friends, is true love. True love is when you can turn a blind eye to love and let it become unexpected. Love is when you can stand still, and let the world spin so madly on. This kind of love is not that type that makes you want to die, but it's the type that might keep you awake. It asks for advice, and becomes more beautiful in every second.

Love is the type of thing that lends and gives. It is everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. Love, my friends, is what you make it. What you feel should be true, and right. Love isn't necessarily the world, but it isn't miniscule either. It's anything but miniscule, and yet it's refined detail. But that's not fact or fiction. That's just what I've learned over the last few hours.

And it took me sixteen years to realize it.

So go listen to your favorite love song and really think: What does love mean to you? Do you love something enough to let that love go for the sake of its growth? They say distance brings two people, or two things even, closer. I can whole-heartedly relate and agree. That's why a person needs their personal space. That's why some people just need their quiet, alone time. Maybe you could appreciate that moment time, to really think. Love is not forgetting: it's the ability to let other things cross your mind.

And in the meantime, while you figure out what you want from your love for, not only for a boy, a girl, a food, or even yourself, but of life itself, check out this band that was given to me in a gorgeous playlist. The link will be posted below. I hope you guys are able to think it over, and learn so much from your love over the new year.

The Weepies

Love, Maura

What is Art?

Afternoon, comrades.

Being snowed in puts lots of thoughts in your head, I've discovered. It makes you think, the cold and the quiet, and that's why I enjoy it so much. Just listening to one's inner ticking is... impactful? Okay, so that's not really a word, but I digress...

Moving on, my friend pulled out a project the other day. On it, read a question in the middle: What is Art?

It was something I did for my literary magazine last year, but, unfortunately, it didn't get put in. Anyway, my friend went looking for her response, but couldn't find it. Thinking it over through the last forty-eight hours, I've discovered that she didn't need to recognize her handwriting to know the answer: it was inside of her all along. The thought provoking question doesn't necessarily guarantee the same result: people change, after all.

Art can be change, can't it?

What also got me thinking was a video (I shall post the link below), and its meaning. It's a song, of course, and it discusses how art is universal. No matter if you're making pop music or standing on a pedestal in the middle of New York City with only a statue of liberty costume on, you're making art. I don't understand how people can judge, saying something "isn't art" (such as main stream music and artistic nudity). The truth is: no matter who you are, or what kind of art you're making you: A) still need to work for it, B) still want to reach your dreams, and C) still have some sort of knack for something (be it modeling in a leotard or dancing around the stage of Madison Square Garden). Paul McCartney still had to work for his career, as Lady Gaga is doing now. Who's to judge?

And every artist has a share of "mistakes", of course. What's so different from Adam Lambert and Madonna? The Dixie Chicks and The Beatles? There's no difference. People got mad. People got upset, because they weren't ready. They weren't ready for the acts of "obscene" art that these people do or did. What matters at the end of the day, however, is that they spoke out. Their voices were heard. They were not silenced. And that is true bravery that I commend. That is true passion and love for what you do and how you do it. That is true devotion. That is art.

Art is revolution.

Guys, honestly, famous and infamous artists have done these things out of love. The universal idea is that LOVE and ART go hand in hand. You have to love to produce art. You need to provide love for art, for change. For revolution. People do things for a reason, and it's usually because they're either force to, or because they love it. No one should doubt that they can follow their dreams, because they can. So long you love it, and believe in it by loving yourself and your passion, you can reach the stars if you tried (maybe with the help of a rocket ship, once in a while). Fly, and this devotion will take you places. And no matter if others judge you, you're still making art in the eyes of another. Ignore those nasty critics. Lots are loveless. Hand them a flower and a smile, and keep going down the path you desire. Go. Your dreams are waiting.

And, as promised from the beginning, the thought provoking video, made of intrigue and a ukulele. I bid the farewell with your thoughts, and my favorite revolutionary; Amanda Palmer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9dxDREaCyjE

Love,

Maura Lee Bee