Tonight I went to "Rhythm on the River". It's a three day event in my new hometown with food venders, duck races, and three different stages where you can watch anything from dance groups, choirs, concert bands, country, rock, irish, bluegrass, and even a "strolling accordian/harmonica/djembe group". I knew this was something I'd enjoy so I got off skype, and headed to the river.
You know you're in Colorado when there's a sign in the parking lot for Free Bike Valet Parking. I laughed at the sign and walked along the St. Vrain River with high hopes for this event. It was a great place. Lots of food, people, tents, chairs, and a country cover band playing on the stage. I strolled around, talked to some vendors, signed up to win a free iPod, and then I left. There was no one to enjoy it with me. There was no one I could sing along with, get root beer floats with, or sign up for the duck race with. This event should have been fun. I should have loved it. I would have loved it. If I had someone here to love it with me.
I got home, laid in bed, and cried. Why am I here? Why am I STILL here? Is it worth it? Ninety-three days. What have I done in ninety-three days?
I've gone hiking. I've gone hiking at Chataqua in Boulder, and I've done four hiking trails in Rocky Mountain National Park. I've been to Alberta Falls, Gem Lake, The Pool off Cub Lake, and I've climbed to the top of Deer Mountain. I've explored the towns of Longmont, Boulder, Lafayette, and Estes Park. I've explored the St. Vrain Greenway walking trail, Golden Ponds, and Northshore Lake. I've gotten my own apartment. I've read Charles Dickens' Our Mutual Friend, Jane Austen's Emma, and J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan. I've eaten at new restaurants like Pinnochio's and Dickens' Tavern. I've eaten Indian food for the first time in my life. I've taken my dog to a dog park. I've jogged a half-mile. I've gone horseback riding. I've gotten yet another person to fall in love with the score to Blood Diamond. I've learned half of a new Beethoven sonata on the piano. I've studied Dvorak's 6th Symphony and Stravinsky's Petrouchka. I've started writing a passacaglia for string quartet. I've started transcribing Path to Heaven from the score to Kingdom of Heaven and am arranging it for marimba quartet. I've started working on a jazz band piece based on the Nat King Cole Trio's Sunny Side of the Street. I've been working on a theme and variations piece for full orchestra. And I've written two cues for a promo video for a student TV show. I've saved enough money to go white water rafting. I've joined a church and will be playing timpani with their choir at Sunday masses starting this fall. I've found a food kitchen where I can volunteer on weekends. I've asked my sister to send me the locked picture of a film she recently produced so I can use it for practice.
I'm a new person. I have energy, I have passion, I have drive. I'm not as scared anymore. I have more self confidence. I'm not worried about weight or what people think about me. I'm not freaking out about letting people hear my music. I'm not afraid of writing music. I'm not afraid of putting myself out there and staying true to myself and my music. A quote from one of my favorite movies (don't bash the movie if you know what it is) says "Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game". I've embraced that. I know that I will be rejected. I know that I will be torn and hurt and bleeding on the inside. But that's part of the game. That's part of life. I can't let that keep me from going out and doing what I'm here to do.
So these ninety-three days. Has it been worth it? Yes. Am I lonely? Yes. Am I going to stay and keep pushing towards my dream? Most definitely.
Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.
I miss you, my dear friends. I miss you.