that other part of my brain

Today I spent my lunchtime 'totally shredding' on my electric guitar with my friends Loa and Devon. It was fun, and it forced me to use this weird "creative" part of my brain I don't normally employ.

We did an informal performance/improvised jam session for other IDCE students centered around Loa's amazing poetry. She is Tongan-American (Tonga is an island in the South Pacific) and her poetry focuses on her diasporic experience, her homeland(s) of Tonga and Utah, her family, class stratification and the meaning of love. She's incredibly talented and a fantastic Mom to her 7-year-old son Nicolasi, who is actually here in Worcester. Our co-performer Devon is learning the violin and will be on her way to Palestine next month to trade musical skills with kids in Palestinian refugee camps. Actually, if you have an instrument or ANY musical equipment collecting dust in your basement which you wouldn't mind parting with, PLEASE contact me and let me know. I'll be in MI next week and could collect donations.

I had a really good time with the jam session (great turnout!) but for some reason, I was really nervous. We had only rehearsed twice, I know about 8 chords total, and my improv skills are fairly limited. Plus, I feel like such an artistic prude sometimes. It's hard for me to think about what the color brown "sounds like" or to create a guitar riff based on the "feeling of riding a public bus."

I had actually debated pretend-smashing my guitar at the end of the performance for comedic relief. I settled for kicking over my little amp instead. ROCK n' ROLL!