Songs without Words

I’ve let my life spiral out of control, to the point where I can barely cling on to anything. And I’m hurting other people I care about because of it. I’m going to take a break from all outside forces and just focus on regaining myself and my handle on my life. It will probably take a few days, but maybe I’ll be able to be happy again after it, and be able to bring happiness to others again.

*sings*

I see trees of green, red noses too
I see them drip for me and you
And I think to myself … why didn’t I buy lotion Kleenex?

(apologies to Louis Armstrong)

So my neighbor had a deliciously full plate of Nepalese cuisine, all prepared for him by his girlfriend – all he had to do was microwave the multi-course meal, and voila!  And it smelled scrumptious, too.  He spotted me, sitting there in the lounge, stabbing at stewed tomatoes in a can (by choice, thank you very much) and uttered, “Straight out of the can?”  It took me a few moments to realize that he had on that expression that you only wear when you pity someone with that “bleeding heart.”  It was rather amusing, really, as if he were saying, “Oh, you poor thing, living that desperate life.  I was like that, too, before I met my girlfriend.”  He offered me some of his meal, but I politely declined.  I had already eaten dinner, and I was just craving stewed tomatoes.  So what?!
But he really can save the pity, because there’s nothing about me to pity.  Like most people out there who have found someone who could be a partner for life, I feel like the most blessed person on Earth.  It doesn’t matter if my girlfriend can cook or not; what’s important to me is already a part of her, and that’s what really counts.  I enjoy food as much as the next person, but the true feast and delicacy exists somewhere higher.  There is a splendid, intimate banquet that she lays out just for me, and everyone in love can attest that that banquet, unlike real food, leaves you full and happy forever.

The class of ’08 had some heavily subsidized tickets to go see Wicked (ten bucks a piece, definitely a bargain for musicals at the Opera House, where $35 is about as cheap as you can get — for obstructed-view seats), so my girlfriend and I sat at our computers, refreshing the ordering page constantly until sales began. It was definitely a vast upgrade from the hysterical stampede from real-life ticket sales in ages past.

She decided on the last day to dress up somewhat, which meant I had to quickly whip out a shirt and iron it. We happened upon other familiar faces – six of them, in fact – at the Kendall T stop — do great minds really think alike? I was actually amused at how similar all the girls’ shoes looked (although I must admit, I was partial to my Love’s).

The show was very crowded, but as always, the theater remained at a comfortable temperature, if not a slightly cool one. I always marvel at the homeostasis of such large halls, where the sheer number of people ought to heat the room by at least a few degrees.

Having heard the songs so many times before, I instead focused on the visuals as well as the personal twists on the songs. There were lots of little differences between this show and the original cast’s rendition that I picked up on, the unmarked decisions that make live performances so unique and human.  For instance, the moment at which Madame Morrible switches over from speaking to singing, or Doctor Dillamon’s accent, or whether Glinda seems to be deadpan/mocking or laughing out loud when she utters, “Don’t make me laugh!”  The melodies were as beautiful if not moreso than I had heard them before, and even though I felt that some of the singing sounded forced or more square, it also had an openness and resonant quality to it that had me mesmerized for the whole three hours.

The special effects were quite amazing, as expected – the Wizard’s robotic head and the giant dragon and the flying sequences were all beautifully executed.  Yet my love for this musical will always be because of the songs and their universal quality.  Elphaba and Glinda — and even the Wizard for a few moments — express feelings and ideas that are generalized enough, intentionally or not, to apply to almost the entire audience.  I doubt anyone will be a literalist and suddenly speak out against the caging of animals in zoos (although I am decreasingly impressed by the concept of zoos, despite how much I enjoyed visiting them, along with aquaria, as a child).  But especially for kids growing up “green” — the “teacher’s pets” who ironically grow up into the individuals who truly stand up for their beliefs — this musical is a great relief and venting point.  Sure, Elphaba “dies” (no, that’s not a spoiler – everyone in the world has heard, “Ding dong, the Witch is Dead!”), but only after singing some amazing songs and with a best friend (not to mention the thousands in the audience) by her side.

I wonder if everyone watching can catch all the subtleties of the plot, though.  For instance, it’s pretty hard to catch just from the performance that Fiyero was saved by having his body turned to straw (thus finishing the trio – the lion cub at Shiz becomes the cowardly lion who wants courage and Boq becomes the Tin man lacking a heart), or additionally that he takes advantage of the commoners’ mistaken belief that the witch could be melted with water (which is especially confusing since, in the book and in the original, she *is* killed through water).  But in any case, Wikipedia does a great job of clearing all that up :).

It was a wonderful night, and I was entranced by my girlfriend’s elegance and beauty, especially in her blissful “nap” during intermission, tucked under her quilt-like comforter.  Her curvaceous smile and long lashes were irresistably charming as she excitedly professed her fascination and curiosity for all things electrical and musical.  I smiled and laughed with her, and held her small hands that peeked out from below her jacket, and I think for the first time in more than a week, I could feel her signature peaceful, serene aura enveloping her delicate form and spreading like a magical wisp of cloud-mist over me.

After a rather lackluster audition, I was fortunately saved from wallowing in despair by my girlfriend, who I accompanied over to Porter Square to visit one of her friends, who’s now a student in the Media Lab. We had a rather silly time together, eating a strangely green Asian pear, playing Black Box and Cross-the-River, then watching a few of his old film school projects. His visual effects skills, from 3D rendering to special effects and artificial lighting to layering of many filmed images, are immensely impressive, and certainly I took every opportunity I could to learn more from this master. We all had quite a nice laugh, too, at the spontaneous, occasionally intentional humor.

Following the visit, my girlfriend and I became hungry and ended up eating at Porter Exchange – a little shop in the food court called “Tampopo.” There seemed to be just two people working there, a middle-aged Japanese man in the cramped kitchen, and a young Caucasian girl who was the waitress (plus any other odd jobs). My seat was bizarrely halfway in the restaurant and halfway in the hallway, but it wasn’t altogether discomforting or anything like that. My Love amused herself by watching the various fishes in the shallow glass tank across the hallways (in a neighboring Korean restaurant): there was a clownfish, a blue tang (think Dory), a pufferfish, a lionfish, and an angelfish (maybe), among others that I couldn’t identify. She ordered the “tofu dynamite,” which was an interesting concoction that mixed tofu and various vegetables/seaweeds into a single puffy cake, and I ordered curry udon with tonkatsu (because I’m a huge sucker for tonkatsu, although this one was a bit thick and non-tenderized for a pork cutlet). The food was overall pretty good, and I strangely got a bonus miso soup, although I would’ve been a bit happier with a salad or at least something not hot / not salty. I embarrassingly didn’t have any cash on me, despite sort of being the one to ask her here, but Love was a good sport about it (thank goodness) and I promised to treat her to dinner next weekend ^_^.

After returning to MIT, we ended up touring the PDSI, trying out all the stairwells and exploring just about every nook and cranny on the four floors. I managed to be caught unawares by a random step on the first floor … twice … . There is an air of spaciousness to the new building, enhanced by the blurring of the outside-inside divide. Open skylights would open into the fourth floor, but then there would be carved-out holes that would also let the light shine down into the third floor. The second floor had cut-outs in its side walls, serving a similar purpose. The emphasis on natural lighting is a major part of why I enjoy being in this building – it is absolutely splendid at sunset.

I want to post about last night, but the right words aren’t here yet.

Hier au soir, ma petite amie et moi, nous avons «fait la tour du monde» … en effet … . J’avoue que nous n’avons jamais quitté la résidence universitaire, mais Google Earth peut laisser l’impression de s’être délecter des merveilles (et des «glitch» =P) du monde. Quelquefois, toujours assis dans la chaise, on peut s’imagine comme oiseau, regardant les montagnes et les vallés qui déployent devant les yeux. La civilisation humaine reste mystérieuse, malgré les efforts de Google et l’Internet en générale. Ces petites mais grosses aventures ne font qu’aiguiser ma désire de voyager en dehors des États-Unis (et le Canada … -_-).

Il y a deux Terres: l’un, c’est l’âme, les «21 grammes» qui peut communiquer avec les Idées et les esprits. Je connais bien ce Terre, et pour le moment, je suis satisfait de mes éxplorations dans le royaume métaphysique. Mais la Terre physique, sa largesse et sa splendeur, Elle attend patiemment, les couleurs, les parfums cherchant moi. Mes sens marchent à côté de la fleuve et la château pour boire la couture ancienne. Mes sens jouent avec le pain et le café, et dansent avec les voitures et les jardins.

Je veux voyager, pour que chez-moi devient chez-moi.

Traduction:

Yesterday, my girlfriend and I in effect traveled the world. I admit we never left the dorm, but Google Earth leaves that impression of having see the Wonders (and glitches) of the world. Sometimes, all the while sitting in your chair, you can imagine yourself becoming a bird, gazing at the mountains and valleys that unfurl before your eyes. Human civilization remains mysterious, in spite of the best efforts of Google and the Internet in general. These little yet big adventures do nothing but whet my desire to travel outside of the US (and Canada).

There are two Earths: one is the soul, the 21 grams that can communicate with the Ideals and spirits. I know this Earth well, and for the time being, I’m satisfied with my explorations in the metaphysical realm. But the physical Earth, its size and splendor – She waits patiently, the colors and the fragrances looking for me. My senses walk alongside the river and the castle to drink in ancient culture. My senses play with the bread and coffee, and dance with the cars and the gardens.

I want to travel, so that my home may become my home.

Cat Language:

oijimyi, miaode karuna iao miao oinimyi otwei miu tola. miao nukyaei, miaos nohotewen miu éraz, mes gugṷl terra hotei ye uegunmiu kom evei miu aikas (iao gupis) riu terra. mumtimyi, pei bilkaesk, totimyi tiu mrde gun, ubei hizu nei tiu kris iao wans nai [unfurl] kiukiu mrd’evis. miaomiaode miaora ahotei anaisme, xexemyi gugṷl iao sasogin rukei. ye gosme mis geme léw nobiemua noin gemei miaode himv otwei jume miu g.e. (iao kanada).

ei dome terra: i ei skmiu, miu 21 grams nai [communicate] siu kads iao otreme skmius. miao jimyi aisei ye terra, iao ye timiu, miao ei [satisfied] siu miaode léw tiu runla riu aizifa. mes miu [physical] terra ei gome iao aikabime, jitimyi otiei. miu wemus iao jishous nei miao. miaode tehimius déei kiu eisue iao runéra, pan ezalei fome kultumiu. miaode tehimius aipȑei siu yel iao kermi, iao danei siu utomis iao tebes.

miao vei otwei ket miaod’éra ubei ko-éra.

My girlfriend came back to campus early this afternoon.  By some stroke of fate, we arrived at South Station from our respective ends at the same time, with the phone call announcing her arrival coming when we were in fact within a hundred feet of one another.  It was a heartfelt reunion, the way her face suddenly lit up (my presence then was somewhat of a surprise, perhaps), and we shared a magnificent hug before I pointed her to the vase of irises and an unknown pink flower, as well as a boot box with my home-baked fruit tart in it (which I had spent countless hours trying to learn and calibrate).  We spent most of the afternoon and evening talking, cuddling, unpacking, and reading a little … blast from the past that she brought from home, shall we say :).

There are severe formatting errors in the version below. Please use this link to see it in its appropriate form. A literal rendering of the poem’s source memory is located at the bottom of this entry.

Singing hair, speaking hair,
the shouting tongue, a lapper and a kisser
but now taking it easy
rolling, blowing as if whispering
“elephant”
laughing

An electric phantasm, but
elusive phantasmagoria
Deeply verdant threads on a velvety specimen of sweater
dyeing the waves
the old-fashioned way:
brush, brush, sweeping the blue out of the blue-green tincture
the purest cerulean-indigo emigrating
to paint white cotton into warm and worn denim –
a subtle approach under the chorus of heavy airs and salts

Ridges in the wooden planks
miniaturized onto shy fingers that seek like-minded accomplices
for a carefree warming spree
a palm of pink, unfolding its wings into a balmy resort
of dunes and layered sands
and a few palms of green

Interleaving destinies hobble along together
wriggling their noses and ears
Smudges on affectionate blushes
adorned with spots and pimples
unwinding with a taut stretch
and wholesome breaths laden with serpentine mirages
Condensing with a cognate gaze
Sprinkles of a yearning blossom of desire
under the chorus of heavy airs and salts

I really got a sweet bolster late last night, in the form of a rough sketch featuring one-third of a projected trilogy of ambigrams from my Love. The words are from the title of one of my favorite poems of all time, a villanelle that she wrote for me last fall. Mmm … what can I say .. she’s amazing ^^. Tonight, after I cook dinner, I shall work in earnest to complete a strange little wall-ornament for her I’ve been dying to make for a few days now.

Another UROP in my lab has gotten me into playing this game … you just try to make words from a set of 6 letters. If you get one or more six-letter words, you can advance to the next round, so that is the main priority. The other words earn you extra points. My high score is 15,960 … let me know if any of you guys beat that ^___^.

[Edit:] Well, that was quick ^^.  My Love went ahead and pulled off the rather “sexy” *wink wink* score of 20,860.  @_@ whoot~!  You go girl ^___^