Apply: A Definition (or 5)

Apply, v.

1. To make a formal application or request.

Gee, thanks, Google, for that utterly thrilling definition that is at once concise and provides no new information. Really?! To apply is to make an application?!
I digress.
The most applicable *cough* definition of the word "apply" right now is 'to college.' As in, I am sitting at my kitchen table, as I have been for the last two hours, waiting for my art supplement to upload to SlideRoom so I can finish off my application to my dream school. As in, since August 1st--the day the Common App launched--the bulk of my life and mind has been overtaken by the before, during, and after of applying to college. As in, on May 1st, I will finally know for sure where I am going, but until then, I will be experiencing such a huge range of emotions that I likely will have several (more) mental breakdowns. The first worldiest of first world problems. Oh, college. You silly, demonic little beast.
If you're in my shoes…first of all, I'm sorry. Second of all, we've got this! Only a few more months to go and then all of this is behind us!
Dear colleges: I am formally requesting that you admit me. Yrs, Jensen.

2. To be applicable or relevant.

Google's done it again. To be applicable?!
How does one manage it, in the year 2014? We live in the digital age. Every day we are inundated with more information than our feeble human brains can possibly process. Advertisements for shampoo that will make your hair salon-fresh after every wash, television shows about Kerry Washington saving the country from catastrophe, YouTube clips of a cat dialing 911, Yahoo! homepage articles about how ebola is SO TOTALLY IN YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOW. We're used to it now, so everything gets swept under the rug. So how do we stay remembered?
I used to think that was the most important question in the world. How can I be applicable? How do I become relevant? Then I read The Fault In Our Stars, and I was still convinced it was the most important question, even after Hazel Grace tries to teach Augustus that being remembered is about quality, not quantity, of memory. Now, as I figure out where I'm gonna spend the next four years of my life, I realize that even though the stress, anxiety, fear, hope, and excitement I am feeling is amplified and overwhelming now, in a year and a half, when I'm well into my freshman year of college, I'll barely remember it. I'll be at some incredible school, swamped with work and music and activities, and I won't give a second thought to the arduous months that brought me there.
So if I won't remember this, what is arguably the most formative time in my life so far, how can I expect other people to remember me? When I can't even remember myself?

3. To put (or spread) something on a surface.

Finally, a definition that does not contain some iteration of the word 'apply' in it.
I just spent a whole paragraph convincing you that you can't expect other people to remember you. But…you should still try. You don't have to be remembered by everyone, or remembered forever. But you should strive to have an impact, to matter, in a small way or a big way. Not everyone is going to walk on the moon. Not everyone is going to win a Grammy (although I sincerely hope to myself). Not everyone is going to be the President or cure cancer or write the next great American novel. But maybe you'll be a second grade teacher, and you'll make some lonely little boy fall in love with learning. Maybe you'll get married to the love of your life and have four beautiful children. Maybe you'll give a homeless man five dollars every day and be the reason that he survives, or gets back on his feet. Maybe you'll buy someone a cup of coffee when they're having a rough day.
So spread yourself on this blue-green surface. Put yourself out there. Life is a lottery and every ticket wins. Throw yours in and see what you get.

4. To give one's full attention to a task; to work hard.

Every teenager in the world has heard the phrase "apply yourself" at least once. Or twice. Or a million times. It's late April, in the horrible end-of-year-slump we all face, and you've got a precalc problem set to tackle and APUSH reading to annotate (or, y'know, skim) and an English essay to rewrite, but when you get home, you drop your six-ton backpack angrily on the ground and lay facedown on your bed. And one or both of your parents come in your room and they ask what's wrong, and you say you don't want to do your work. And they say, come on, honey. Just apply yourself.
Well, I hate to break it to you; they're not wrong. You should apply yourself, when you've got lots of work to do and you don't want to do it, or you don't understand a difficult concept, or you're holding yourself back from a great opportunity that seems hard or scary now but will pay off later. But that's not all you should work hard for. Apply yourself to getting a good night's sleep, to taking a hot bath, to eating a delicious and healthy meal, to going for a jog, to listening to some really good music. Work hard at taking care of yourself and making yourself happy. The world expects a lot of you, and trust me, you CAN rise to the challenge. But it's not just about what the world wants. It's about what you want. Apply yourself to you, kid. It's your body and it's your life. You've got only got one of each. (That was almost YOLO…almost.)

5. To bring or put into operation or practical use.

Unless you're a solipsist, you know the world mostly exists outside your own mind. It's a rat race, a dog-eat-dog kinda game, and if you don't step outside your bubble, the world will keep spinning without you. Chances are, you've got a lot of interesting thoughts in your head, but unless you take them from the intangible to the tangible, they won't get you anywhere. Bring yourself and your great ideas down from the clouds and onto the ground and you'll be surprised where they'll take you.
It's scary. Rejection and failure are scary. But I heard this great quote once, about how life is a series of decisions that narrow down your options. And not making the decisions? That's a decision, too. So whether or not you decide, your options keep narrowing.
Which is it going to be? Are you going to choose? Or are you going to let the world choose for you?

Artist Recs 4 U! (Vol. I)

Hey, all! So I've decided I want to post on this little number quite a bit more than I currently do and thought I'd do a little "if this, then that" for ya. If you're confused, don't worry, it'll make sense soon. Here are a few artist recommendations for you!

Below are ten artists with varying degrees of mainstream and critical success that span a few genres. I included 4 recommendations that I perceive as pretty close in vibe to the original artist, and then 1 'out of bounds' rec that might get you slightly out of your musical comfort zone while still staying true to your tastes. Check it out!

1. If you like Sam Smith, you should listen to…

• Allen Stone
• James Blake
• JP Cooper
• Daniel Bedingfield
• Out of Bounds: Derran Day

2. If you like Bon Iver, you should listen to…

• Benjamin Francis Leftwich
• Sam Morrow
• City and Colour
• Jump Little Children
• Out of Bounds: Hozier

3. If you like Ed Sheeran, you should listen to…

• Jason Reeves
• Nina Nesbitt
• Natalie Holmes
• Jay Loftus
• Out of Bounds: Shannon Saunders

4. If you like Maroon 5, you should listen to…

• Marianas Trench
• Goldspot
• Fitz & The Tantrums
• Taylor Mathews
• Out of Bounds: Jack's Mannequin

5. If you like The White Stripes, you should listen to…

• Shakey Graves
• Foxy Shazam
• Dr. Dog
• The Mountain Goats
• Out of Bounds: Nana Grizol

6. If you like Charli XCX, you should listen to…

• Echosmith
• Ryn Weaver
• Meghan Trainor
• Kate Nash
• Out of Bounds: Dresses

7. If you like Sara Bareilles, you should listen to…

• Daughter
• David Choi
• Broken Fences
• Matt Corby
• Out of Bounds: Wet

8. If you like John Mayer, you should listen to…

• Justin Nozuka
• Jaymes Young
• Charlie Simpson
• Rufus Wainright
• Out of Bounds: Front Porch Step

9. If you like Vampire Weekend, you should listen to…

• The Oh Hello's
• Peace
• Walk the Moon
• Josh Woodward
• Out of Bounds: Sam Brookes

10. If you like Arctic Monkeys, you should listen to…

• The Perishers
• Imelda May
• Hospitality
• First Aid Kit
• Out of Bounds: Gin Wigmore

That'll do it for now! I might post more of these if I think of others but this is a pretty lengthy list! Stay tuned for another installation of 'Artist Recs 4 U,' my artist and album reviews, my random musings on life, and of course, my monthly playlist. October began today, and I've already got a couple great tracks lined up to play ad nauseam for the next 30 days… ;)

See ya soon! xo

September Playlist

September Playlist

Hey dudes! So…senior year is a thing. (As is illness, which I am currently overcoming. Cough.) I've got some Middle East reading to do, but quite frankly, I'm not in the mood at the present moment. So instead I decided to deliver my September tunes unto you. This month is in its last leg, and today is technically the first day of autumn, even though the 90º+ forecast for this week would have you believing otherwise. Oh, silly Los Angeles. Where are your seasons? (Honestly, I love the sun. I love sweater weather too, of course, but I really do dig summer time). I don't know seasonally appropriate these songs are, but I've been listening to them a lot, and they're pretty great. So check them out! Also, I'm having trouble dealing with October's imminence. OCTOBER?! No, my internal clock still feels like it's August. Maybe once the leaves start changing, I'll get out of the weird mood I've been in. Oh, and finishing college apps. That'll really set me back on track. Which reminds me…once I get over this sickness thing, I've gotta refilm my songwriting auditions! Gah! Deadline is November 1st! Be proactive, future me!

In any event. The songs, as promised…

1. "Stick" - 3:35
ALBUM: Lights Out
ARTIST: Ingrid Michaelson

2. "Maps" - 3:10
ALBUM: V
ARTIST: Maroon 5

3. "All About That Bass" - 3:08
ALBUM: All About That Bass - Single
ARTIST: Meghan Trainor

4. "OctaHate" - 3:26
ALBUM: Promises - EP
ARTIST: Ryn Weaver

5. "Striking Distance" - 2:13
ALBUM: Siren
ARTIST: Young Summer

6. "Celestial" - 3:24
ALBUM: Handmade Songs By Tori Kelly - EP
ARTIST: Tori Kelly

7. "Touch" - 3:35
ALBUM: TRXYE - EP
ARTIST: Troye Sivan

8. "Winter Is All Over You" - 3:39
ALBUM: The Big Black and the Blue
ARTIST: First Aid Kit

9. "Don't Know You" - 4:13
ALBUM: Don't Know You - Single
ARTIST: Tall Tales

10. "Missing the War" - 4:18
ALBUM: Whatever and Ever Amen
ARTIST: Ben Folds Five

11. "You've Got Her In Your Pocket" - 3:39
ALBUM: Elephant
ARTIST: The White Stripes

12. "Kentish Town Waltz" - 4:50
ALBUM: Mayhem
ARTIST: Imelda May

13. "Slow Dancing In a Burning Room" - 4:02
ALBUM: Continuum
ARTIST: John Mayer

14. "Darling" - 2:56
ALBUM: The Say Max - EP
ARTIST: MAX

15. "From Eden" - 4:43
ALBUM: Hozier
ARTIST: Hozier

16. "In the Cold, Cold Night" - 2:58
ALBUM: Elephant
ARTIST: The White Stripes

17. "The Only Way to My Heart…"
ALBUM: Foxy Shazam
ARTIST: Foxy Shazam

That'll wrap it up for my September playlist! Yes, there ARE two songs off 'Elephant' in this one, but only because it is maybe one of the best albums of all time and if you disagree, then ????!!!!! But yeah, I still have a lot of White Stripes to get through; I started listening to 'White Blood Cells' and couldn't get into it, but who knows? Anyway, this is what I've been listening to, I hope you give these 17 songs a chance, and I hope you even like 'em! Next time we talk will probably be October, but the only thing spooky about my month will be the Common App, and therefore, my future…*ghoulish laughter*

See ya soon! xo

Why Music?

It is very late, and I am up because in 30 hours, my senior year commences in earnest. So naturally, instead of getting rest or working on college apps, I wrote this unrelated essay. Enjoy.

            By now, my answer to “why music?” is a well-choreographed dance; I’ve been singing for as long as I can remember, I started musical theater at six, piano at seven, songwriting at twelve. I’ve written over 200 songs, but not all of them are good. And so on. It’s almost gotten so that I don’t like answering the question, almost avoid it, because I can’t stand to hear the parade of words marching from my mouth, my tongue a conveyor belt leading to an uninteresting final product.

            The first time I said something that caught my own interest was in my video essay for GRAMMY Camp LA 2014. I recorded it on a camera with a dying battery, uploaded it, and didn’t look at it again until long after camp had ended, a late night in August when the nostalgia had overtaken me and I longed to remember who I had been before I was irrevocably changed by those 10 days. I heard myself say, “not all my songs are good, sometimes they’re bad, but I think it’s important to keep writing anyway.” Those last three words caused my sleepy head to snap to attention. What a motto to have for myself. Keep writing anyway.

            That sticks out to me because it’s not just about music. It’s about everything, about life. Work by perspiration, not inspiration, the whole bit. Keep writing anyway, even when you’re out of good ideas and everything you generate is subpar. Keep writing anyway, because once you push through the crap, you can get to the good stuff. Write a hundred terrible songs, and then the hundred and first will win you a Grammy. As Chuckie Sullivan said in Good Will Hunting said, “keep your ears to the grindstone.” Keep writing anyway.

            Now, I am setting out to answer “why music?” in a more compelling way than “because it’s always been music.” Admittedly, that’s still a compelling answer, but I’m a songwriter, gosh darn it, so there is certainly a better way to say it.

            So, why music? When I force myself to sit and think about it right now, there are a million reasons. One, because it’s two in the morning and, in a desperate attempt to expand my music knowledge, I’m starting an expedition into jazz greats, beginning with Jelly Roll Morton. As the first track in his Library of Congress sessions begins—“Alabama Bound” and the story thereof—I feel an instant connection to my heritage, musically and ethnically. The strains of the South, the voice of an aging black man singing and speaking over gentle jazz piano, and I am reminded of where I came from. Just the sound of his voice—a man I never met and have no relation to—makes me smile. Why music? It gives shape to an identity I never even knew I had.

            Two, because while at GRAMMY Camp this past summer, I formed relationships faster than I ever have in my life, and those relationships are more meaningful than any I’ve ever forged. Music brought us all together in a way I could only have dreamed about before. Everybody at camp understands what it means to share music, be it music that you’ve written or a song you love by someone else; to show someone a song that matters to you is to give a little piece of yourself, to uncover a secret tile in the mosaic of your soul. And at camp, when I wrote with the other songwriters or played them something of my own, I swept the dust from my own stained glass windows and exposed the colors I was so desperate to show. The tingly, heart-stopping fear of revelation was dulled in the face of their acceptance. We were all on one team there. And if they felt anything that I did, I can only hope that I did the same, that I made full disclosure feel safe. Why music? It breeds love and compassion for people I didn’t even know I needed.

            Three, because, long story short, there have been dark times in my life. Everyone experiences ups and downs, and I’ve been up and down with the best and worst of them. I have written and heard songs that I truly believe saved my life. Music is catharsis, it is therapy, and it is a friend that listens when no one else will or could possibly understand. Music always understands. There is an infinite library of music about an infinite set of subjects. I can always finds a song that gets me. And when I can’t, I write one. Why music? It rescues me when I am at my most unlovable, or celebrates me when I am at my most triumphant.

            I wrote all this because I don’t want my answer to “why music?” to be mechanical or automatic. I want my explanation to be grounded, but ever-changing. I want to be inundated by reasons to love music, to have a wealth of examples of how music made me smile or laugh or cry, of how it divulged the dark secrets of a seemingly beneficent universe or shed light on something I never thought could shine. I wrote this because music matters, and I want to do it justice. I want my answer to “why music?” to be as poetic as the lyrics I admire and attempt to write. Why music? Because. Because everything.

August Playlist

August Playlist

Hello again. August is entering its last week and so too is my summer (I start school in a week). So much happened this summer. June brought Vidcon, and with it performing in a wildly under-attended open mic, meeting a few of my favorite YouTubers (and missing out on many more to insane signing lines…), and observing, from afar, just how crazy fangirls can get. In July, I went to Grammy camp (in case you somehow didn't know, which of course you did) and I had the most educational, musical, unforgettable 10 days of my life so far. August I chilled, rehearsed for a show I'm doing this Friday with a good friend, and spent a weekend in Palm Springs to get ready for a jam-packed year of student government (yes, for some reason, my classmates elected me as one of four senior class officers. Still convinced it didn't really happen). And now it's all almost over. Summer 2014--and 2014 in general--has been very good to me. Come to think of it, this calendar year is more than half over, which means you can count on my ramblings about time and how it passes and how so much changes and so little stays the same. Especially now that college is a Thing that is Actually Happening (I may or may not have already written most of my applications). Whatever. This pre-playlist spiel has gone on too long. Enjoy 20 August tunes, many of which I stole from the Grammy camp Spotify playlist again. :)

1. "One Last Time" - 3:19
ALBUM: Dark Star - EP
ARTIST: Jaymes Young

2. "Human" - 3:31
ALBUM: If You Leave
ARTIST: Daughter

3. "Mexico" - 4:33
ALBUM: Wish I Was Here (Music from the Motion Picture)
ARTIST: Jump Little Children

4. "Shuck" - 2:09
ALBUM: Shrines
ARTIST: Purity Ring

5. "Gotta Get Thru This (Acoustic Version)" - 3:55
ALBUM: Gotta Get Thru This
ARTIST: Daniel Bedingfield

6. "Like I Can" - 2:47
ALBUM: In The Lonely Hour
ARTIST: Sam Smith

7. "Take Me to Church" - 4:01
ALBUM: Hozier
ARTIST: Hozier

8. "Runaway" - 3:25
ALBUM: x
ARTIST: Ed Sheeran

9. "Anna Sun" - 5:21
ALBUM: WALK THE MOON
ARTIST: Walk the Moon

10. "I Won't Say That I'm Okay" - 5:30
ALBUM: Aware
ARTIST: Front Porch Step

11. "Breathe In Breathe Out" - 3:42
ALBUM: Nothing Left to Lose
ARTIST: Mat Kearney

12. "Bright" - 3:40
ALBUM: Talking Dreams
ARTIST: Echosmith

13. "Dearly Departed (feat. Esmé Patterson)" - 3:32
ALBUM: And the War Came
ARTIST: Shakey Graves

14. "Teen Idle" - 4:14
ALBUM: Electra Heart
ARTIST: Marina and The Diamonds

15. "Never Let It Die" - 5:06
ALBUM: All You Can Do
ARTIST: Watsky

16. "I Just Dont Know What to Do With Myself" - 2:46
ALBUM: Elephant
ARTIST: The White Stripes

17. "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" - 3:22
ALBUM: In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
ARTIST: Neutral Milk Hotel

18. "Despair in the Departure Lounge" - 3:21
ALBUM: Who the F*** Are Arctic Monkeys?
ARTIST: Arctic Monkeys

19. "Satisfaction" - 4:54
ALBUM: Allen Stone
ARTIST: Allen Stone

20. "Smoke" - 4:52
ALBUM: Whatever and Ever Amen
ARTIST: Ben Folds Five

Also, must recommend another Shakey Graves song not available for purchase on iTunes (nor can I find it on Spotify). It's called "Georgia Moon," recommended to me by the same person who insisted I give Ben Folds a fair shake (if you've ever suggested music to me and it's ended up on my monthly playlist, THANK YOU). Here's a link to "Georgia Moon" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lhrJNRkfhE It's such a beautiful song. Check out the rest of the album too, if you have time.

Thanks for reading, if you bothered. Get ready for autumn, ladies and gentlemen. And after autumn, winter. And with winter, yet another year drawing to a close…

I need to stop getting so ahead of myself! For now, I will enjoy my last few days of summer and then, come senior year, keep slayin 'em. See ya soon. xo

July Playlist

July Playlist

You can read my post about Grammy camp here; it was my last one. Camp friends, you might recognize a couple of these songs from our Spotify playlist.

It's been quite a month. Here are some songs.

1. "The Simplest Things" - 3:01
ALBUM: The Simplest Things - EP
ARTIST: Natalie Holmes

2. "Tessellate (Bonus Track)" - 3:57
ALBUM: Halcyon Days (Deluxe Edition)
ARTIST: Ellie Goulding

3. "Drown" - 3:38
ALBUM: Aware
ARTIST: Front Porch Step

4. "Merry Happy" - 5:27
ALBUM: Made of Bricks
ARTIST: Kate Nash

5. "Only Love" - 4:09
ALBUM: Every Kingdom
ARTIST: Ben Howard

6. "Words As Weapons (US Version)" - 3:41
ALBUM: Fire Within
ARTIST: Birdy

7. "Habits (Stay High)" - 3:29
ALBUM: Truth Serum - EP
ARTIST: Tove Lo

8. "Dracula" - 2:52
ALBUM: Young Blood - EP
ARTIST: Bea Miller

9. "Famous" - 3:19
ALBUM: Famous - Single
ARTIST: Katy Tiz

There is a real possibility that I included this on an earlier playlist, but I honestly can't remember...sorry if I did! :)

10. "Rock & Roll" - 4:00
ALBUM: Sounds Like This
ARTIST: Eric Hutchinson

11. "Right By You"
ALBUM: Right By You - Single
ARTIST: Justin Nozuka

12. "The Matthew Effect" - 3:16
ALBUM: Nothing More
ARTIST: Nothing More

13. "Wth (feat. Ab-Soul)" - 3:19
ALBUM: Sail Out
ARTIST: Jhene Aiko

14. "A Case of You" - 4:25
ALBUM: Blue
ARTIST: Joni Mitchell

15. "Count Me Out" - 3:46
ALBUM: Foxy Shazam
ARTIST: Foxy Shazam

16. "Dlm" - 2:25
ALBUM: Overgrown
ARTIST: James Blake

17. "Coattails" - 3:15
ALBUM: Broods - EP
ARTIST: Broods

As July winds down, now you've got 17 new (or maybe old) tunes to listen to. Hopefully August will bring some calm. And some answers. See you guys next month.

My GRAMMY Camp 2014: Los Angeles Experience

My dorm room is unbearably hot. My mother has long since departed. My roommate is nowhere to be found. I lay a single sheet across my twin bed--I didn't bother to bring a fitted one, because I've never successfully put one on by myself. I look at the windows and don't even attempt opening them; I consider myself someone with at least a modicum of intelligence, but generally mundane tasks that require any measure of gross motor skills elude me. I sit in the hot room briefly, hoping my roommate will magically appear, and then venture back downstairs, phone and earbuds in hand. Off to a great start, I think. Sit in the lobby with earbuds in. Great way to make friends, Jensen.

Someone's father--or grandfather, I can't be sure--strikes up a conversation. I try to be as polite as possible but the relatively tame interaction stirs up my usual fears as an introvert. Soon it won't be friendly older men, sitting with their daughters biding time. It will be--gasp--kids my own age. Kids with musical talent far more vast than my own. The typical chain reaction begins. They'll all be better singers than I am. They'll all be better songwriters. They'll be better dressed. They'll be better looking. Panic washes over me, the sensation reminiscent of hot coffee being spilled over one's whole body. I am untethered.

Instead of wallowing in this predictable panic, I make conversation with the first few people I see. There's Stephanie, a keyboard player; Patrick, an audio engineering student; and Emmy Russell, who I am beyond elated to see. Other than a friend from school (who has yet to arrive), she is the only person I kind of know. When stalking researching the other people in my track, I came upon Emmy's video of her song "That Girl's Me." Being wildly impressed by her talent, I left a comment saying that I was excited to meet her at camp. She never responded, so of course my immediate assumption was that I had appalled her with my entirely-too-forward commentary. On the contrary! She too was excited to see me. We bonded immediately over our nervousness and began to socialize with more campers as they came in.

Over the rest of that day, through various icebreaker games and class orientations, I met the rest of the songwriting track. I would later learn weird facts about each and every one of them. Be it Noah's penchant for bare feet and weird back pushups or Micaiah's insane violin skills, every discovery brought us closer together. Under Chris Sampson's expert tutelage, we even learned a few things. Okay, a LOT of things. Each student of the songwriting track now has at least three songs under their belt, although many, myself included, took on additional songwriting projects with kids from other tracks. We analyzed and responded to popular music, heard from guest professionals in the industry, wrote collaboratively, practiced with various instrumental combos, and recorded in the studio with the audio engineers. I'm not sure about the other tracks, but the songwriting kids were busy from the morning knock on our doors to the bed checks late into the night. I barely had a moment to breathe during those 10 days, but I wouldn't change a minute of it. I learned so much about songwriting and about myself. It was a pivotal, downright life-changing week and a half.

The launch party was a thing bigger than itself. Sure, it was the culmination of all our hard work, which inherently is something worthy of our laudation, but it was also a sendoff. A last hurrah. I'm lucky to live in LA. Some kids were headed out to far-flung locales in the Midwest, on the East Coast, or even across the pond. As we all gathered onstage for "Inside Out," with lead vocals performed flawlessly by Jack Ingram, there was a collective surge of power through the whole camp. It was the end of something, but it was also the beginning.

After the launch party, as people began clearing out, I walked around the El Rey with my shoes off, despite the mysterious stickiness on the carpet. I tried to imprint the image on my mind--the deconstruction of the stage, the feverish flash of cameras, the choruses of praise from family and friends, the peculiar sensation of fading warmth as the hundreds of bodies reduced to a few dozen. I ate a piece of cold pizza and rejected my teetering heels in favor of my high tops without socks. I looked a bit ridiculous in a fancy dress, a black hoodie, Converse, and matted hair, but I felt euphoric. We boarded the bus. It was dark. Moonlight trickled through the few open windows. People sang and talked loudly. I had to strain to hear the person next to me speak and to talk myself, giving the words a sacred quality. We got back to campus; my voice was shot; we drank milkshakes and danced as the EMP kids DJ'd. I laughed hard, as hard as I had been throughout the week with all my friends. My milkshake got to be too sweet; I threw it out; I wished I'd had room for more.

(Excuse the pedestrian metaphor I just used. Not everything I write is a ribcage carnival. If you get that reference, you're dope.)

The lobby of Trojan Hall was a sad place last night, and it was a sad place this morning. We all filtered out eventually, and now most of us are back to where we started--sitting in our bedrooms, obsessively refreshing our social media, this time hoping someone else will have posted in the Facebook group or posted a new round of photos from camp. I personally have been replaying the videos my mom took of my performances, though admittedly the sound and video quality aren't exactly Spielbergian (sorry, Mama). I miss eating in the mediocre cafeteria. I miss lining up and getting counted obsessively by the counselors (love you guys, though). I miss calling people by weird nicknames. I miss Chris giving us words of wisdom that at first seem funny but we quickly realize are utterly invaluable. I miss stressing in the practice rooms that our songs won't be done in time. I miss writing with Rushmore, the dynamic trio that brought you such classics as "Signs" and "Beautiful Obstacle." (In all honesty, writing with you two defied description. But you knew that already.) I miss our obscure inside jokes. I miss constant selfies. I miss my thoroughly developed Snapchat story--seriously, every day was a work of art. There was rise and fall, allegory, sophisticated use of tropes...

I'll stop.

In case you couldn't tell, I miss everything about Grammy camp, especially the unforgettable friends I made there. We'll try to keep in touch, but some promises will fade and fall by the wayside. Is that fair, though? Do we even have the right to be upset about friendships formed under strange circumstances, a cliche camp movie scored by a dozen student guitarists and punctuated by montage-level scenes of sleepy delirium? Why do we feel entitled to ownership? Why are all of us still holding on to our crappy Grammy camp water bottles--the ones that still aren't broken, anyway--and stowing our hats and ID cards in safe places?

Because it mattered. There's no way around it.

One night I had a song circle with Mackin, Emmy, and Renato. All four of us played original songs. Other people were in the room, but it was something different for us. After each song, there was at least a few seconds of loaded silence. No single song could fully release the tension. It was a continuous drum roll. Naturally, I cried, because the songs were beautiful and I'm a crier. But each song also contained a moment of mutual understanding. It was confirmation of what we already knew--that it's not just music to us. Nothing about what we did is background noise or a soundtrack. It is water. It is oxygen. It is sustenance and salvation. It is light and darkness. It is sunrise and sunset. Music is our survival. And not just for the four of us, but for all 75 of us.

If you like to sing, you won't get much out of Grammy camp. If you dabble in a couple instruments, you won't get much out of Grammy camp. If you think it might be cool to "do something in music," I do not think you will get much out of Grammy camp. But if music fills you up and makes you whole; if it unzips you and never fully seals you back up again; if it gives you something more than a noteless life has to offer; if you have a passion for something about this industry that keeps you up nights or keeps you doing during the day, then you will come here. You will live and breathe and love. And you will never be the same.