Priorities

I've been having a hard time with my kids lately. The past few weeks leading up to a performance when hubby was out of town, then came back only to suffer the symptoms of hand, foot, mouth disease, and two toddler viruses in a row, things were pretty tough. I have a two year who is giving me every kind of bedtime fuss and climbed into bed with us at 5am this morning(!) only to kick and wound me in every way possible, and a four year old that is totally emo. There are long stretches of time where she doesn't speak, but instead gives me complaining eyes, grunts, or pouty faces. Perplexing to say the least.

For a few months now, I've been really into my work on a whole new level. Having two concerts with different programs in a relatively short amount of time made me pretty obsessive about using every possible moment towards some end of preparation. Every moment that the kids were occupied I had to be doing something. It made me a bit high-strung - no wonder my Seattle trip turned out to feel mostly like a vacation! Yes, it's true - and what mother hasn't ever said this? My kids stress me out.

But here is where I had to check myself today. Our pastor today was preaching on sin, from Genesis 3, talking about the fall. He was talking about how the enemy is always tempting us to take something that God gives us that is good and twist it, mostly by convincing us to value that good thing above all else. When I think about guitar playing, there are so many things I love about it. I love moments when I have complete control over the sound in a room, where I can decide how to pace something, or change the color of a passage, or play it in a way that conveys an emotion that I've felt about a piece of music. I love the feeling of being able to shape sound by touching a string. And in my quest to discover more of what I want my sound to be, I think I've been in a place where my family responsibilities have become a bit of an annoyance and less of an enjoyment - and that makes me sad.

There must be a way in which I can pursue my work to the fullest, and be completely present for my husband and kids. But there's that ever escaping thing called time that I seem to be always chasing. For a season, I suppose this has been good for me - to go after my playing with ferocity and feel nearly greedy about having practice time. But today God revealed to me what an idol my career can be for me, that even the things I once found undesirable about being a performing artist are tempting, and serve as almost an escape from the mundaneness of my every day life. Because when I come home and am scraping old cheerios from the floor and doing three loads of laundry, I can't help but think about what a different place I was the last time I was on a stage.

I often get this post-concert depression type of thing, but I actually came away from this last concert feeling hungry for more. After I spent four days cleaning my house and not practicing, I'm ready to tackle learning music for a new recording project, taking a few new students, and editing some duo videos we shot a few weeks ago. It's thrilling to be excited about your work, but today I felt compelled to pray a simple prayer after hearing the sermon. That God would allow my heart to release its clutches from idolizing my career dreams and to put Him first, my dear hubby second, my kids third, and my career after that.

And as Paul hopped on a plane to NYC this afternoon, and after I taught a student while C took a good long nap and E played on the tablet, I spent the rest of my afternoon enjoying my kids - snacking with them, being engaged with them, even helping them discover something new. In the kids' book, Olivia, Olivia is reading a book about Maria Callas and dreams of being an opera singer. E asked about who she was, so I pulled up YouTube on my phone and we watched Maria Callas sing "O mio babbino caro" (E asking, "Why is she gray?" since the video was in black and white - ha!). The girls were enthralled, their eyes fixed on the screen in awe. And I was so deeply happy to be present with them.

Texas Forever

What do you do when you lose your job, look for a new one, and your job that you just lost calls you back in two weeks? You go to Texas, that's what you do.

We've had a very strange spring full of uncertainty mostly surrounding Paul's work. It's been too strange for me to really blog about. Maybe that's why I've pretty much fallen off the Lenten blogging commitment. I can't really say too much except that I've stayed emotionally detached from this whole thing, as I'm in pretty intense concert prep mode and am feeling really focused right now. But suffice it to say that with two days notice, they asked him to come to the office in a very glamorous part of the world (uh, not really) and on Tuesday morning he was gone.

Anyway, of course Paul had to pick the one week that C's eczema flairs like crazy and she gets her two top two-year old molars in. We were at the park on Tuesday morning and the wind started blowing strongly and steadily, making every sort of pollen fall from the trees. "Look Mommy, it's snowing!" shouted E. She loves snow. I had to chuckle and tell her that this was an LA kind of snow, namely, flower blossoms and all kinds of allergens falling through the spring air. That afternoon, C's eyes were watery and her skin started forming bumps everywhere. And by the evening she was itchy, teething, cranky, and a hot mess. She woke up about 4-5 times. I lost count after awhile in a sort of numb state of exhaustion.

Luckily, we had school yesterday. But last night before bedtime she had one of the craziest tantrums I have ever seen in a child. E, in all her stubbornness, never had tantrums like this. I misunderstood something C was drawing, and she burst into tears, screaming, kicking and writhing on the floor for 45 minutes. I tried everything. Sweet talking her, encouraging her, apologizing to her. Then I thought maybe a stronger approach would snap her out of it. Threatening a time out, yelling at her. Nothing worked. She had moments of calm, but then something would set her off again and it was over. She continued screaming like a banshee (the girl's got lungs) and kicking and hitting me whenever I would come near. By the end she was practically hyperventilating, and when she asked for milk, she flipped out once again when I opened the sippy cup for her because she's two and she has to do everything herself. I was really hating life in that moment. Meanwhile, E decided to be an angel since her sister was freaking out. She got out of bath, dried herself, dressed herself, brushed her hair, and sat with her blanket in a chair quietly thumbing through a Hello Kitty book, giving me a sympathetic look every once in awhile and at times covering her ears.

Suffice it to say that one against two is hard, and feeling like I can't even manage my own children sometimes and that I'd rather be working, mostly because it's easier than mothering - well, that's a terrible feeling.

I went to bed before 10pm last night because I was so burned out. But His mercies are new every morning. I slept a solid 8 hours last night and woke up at 6am on my own, and laid in bed contemplating the morning while the girls slept soundly until about 7am. Thank you, Lord. I would have cracked had it been any other way, and I think He knows that too.

Bedtime Chatter

Last night the girls went to bed in great moods - a very rare thing indeed. We heard them singing and laughing after the lights were out, and heard the type of chatter and giggling that only comes out of sisters' rooms. We turned on the monitor to see what they were talking about.

E was singing "Jesus Loves Me" with all the correct lyrics, and C was trying to follow along. They went through "Peace Like a River" and the "Sheep Song," which I am guessing they had sung in Sunday School that morning, and for a moment I reveled in the Lord's shepherding of my children. I even heard E say a little prayer, something that she has never done before in front of me, which was something like, "Dear God, Thank you for the playground. Please keep us safe and warm. In Jesus name, Amen!" C echoed an amen to that one.

Then I heard this:
E: I'm going to be God, ok? You can be Jesus.
C: Ok. I'm Jesus.

Oh my. The doctrine went wrong somewhere...

Esther

More from Tim Keller's book, Every Good Endeavor. On Esther:

"She becomes a person of greatness not by trying to make a name for herself; and you will become a person of greatness not by trying to make yourself into one, but by serving the One who said to his Father, "For your sake, thy will be done."

Words to live by.

Work.

Our pastor gave a really wonderful sermon today on the value and meaning of work, which is something that seems like it has been a theme for us this year. Paul has faced a lot of challenges with work this year, and during the summer when I was in a bit of a slump, I was desperately trying to find meaning in everything that I do. It all led me to read Tim Keller's book, Every Good Endeavor. I highly, highly recommend it and I'm not even halfway through. It's taken me awhile and I feel like I need to digest every chapter for awhile. But a lot of it has stuck in my mind and heart.

Here are a couple of the points I've thought a lot about this year:

1. Jesus followers should be the best workers. We do all things to honor and bring glory to our Father; this includes the mundane, menial, and tedious things that all jobs inherently have in them somewhere. But it doesn't matter how simple or important the task - working for work's sake is highly honorable, and does not go unseen. Therefore, we should care about our work and do it to the best of our ability, with integrity and honesty.

2. Our work is going to be flawed. It is going to involve conversations that go nowhere, projects that fail, companies that go bankrupt. In our own imperfections, there are inevitably some elements of our work that are unproductive. Keller brings up this wonderful story about a character named Niggle from a short story by C.S. Lewis. This story gave me a fresh perspective on the creation and meaning of art, and of work in general. We are not always highly effective people creatively either, but it's ok. We are redeemed, and that's what matters.

This morning, Pastor Jeremy added the following wisdom. The pursuit of art is a highly honorable and wonderful calling. David was a musician and a poet; Daniel was skilled in literature. Jesus was a carpenter. The pursuit of art is highly honorable; the pursuit of fame is not. I think you'd only have to qualify this speaking to a congregation in the middle of Hollywood in 2016. I am sure this resonated with a lot of folks sitting around me. I realized that I often confuse the pursuit of artistic quality and the pursuit of fame, which is based on ego and pride, not the desire for excellence. (Not that a classical guitarist could really be "famous." But in my small corner of the world, fame is probably defined more as having a good reputation and connections - two things I probably do covet for my own success.)

Some food for thought as I try and discern what is happening in both our work lives lately.

A Word

I have not really been very good about blogging daily, but it's the spirit of this period that matters, right? Some days I am so tired that there really feels like no purpose in posting a few sentences of forced reflection. Still going to try though.

I received a really wonderful word of encouragement today from the pastor that married us nearly ten(!) years ago. He has always been an incredible source of counsel for us, and still prays for us regularly. 

 "...I can't help but relay how much the Father is so well pleased with Connie as well.  It's like He loves watching in on you [Connie], especially in times when you practice, perform, and make music.  Connie, God's great heart toward you is so full of fatherly pride.  He is soooooo incredibly proud of you--the person you are, the woman you are, the mother you are.  There are seasons in which you have been in the public eye and others when you've felt like you're toiling in obscurity.  Perhaps, you've even wondered if what you do makes a difference to anyone at all.  I believe God would say to you that He can totally relate.  There are times when His activity is very spectacular and visible, but there are also long seasons when it's as if He's in the hidden depths, laboring in obscurity like a miner digging for precious treasure.  But it is in the dark, dank, flickering shafts beneath the view of the masses that the earliest successes, the joy of the discovery of unspeakable riches, take place.  He is and has been at work in the depths of your heart as well, digging, tunneling, and mining out precious ore.  Don't be dismayed that some of the hopes of your heart seem so slow in coming to fruition.  Listen to the steady rhythm of the blows of His, as of yet, hidden efforts.  He will be faithful to fulfill ALL His promises to you..."

I was really blown away by this incredible note and it couldn't have come at a better time.

Community

Something I am challenging myself to do more is to see people as just people. I have a tendency to categorize everyone that I know and only let some into my inner circle. In my mind, there are a few different spheres of people and they all live in their little bubbles: church people, guitar people, people-with-kids friends, old friends, and family.

But what if I were to stop seeing all of these people as categorized into different worlds, and allowed my relationships to go deeper in every circle? So I could talk about my spiritual life with guitarists; my artistic struggles with church folks, my parenting woes with old friends. I allow what we have in common to continue dictating each relationship rather than letting differences challenge and enhance each relationship. It's a simple concept, but hard for my relational self to wrap my mind around sometimes.

Mirena

I believe we are done having children. I have felt this way since after having my second, being happy with two kids, and feeling like I want to give them my full attention and love. I also do not want to spend ten years of my life raising small children. I want to savor them at each phase, and I'm looking forward to them growing into school age, and nurturing them as they enter the phase of childhood that I can actually remember myself. I love my girls so much and feel that our family is complete.

That's the nice way of saying it. Really, in the back of my head, there's a voice that screams, "No WAY am I going through all that again!" This feels very selfish. But... I'm just being honest.

Since our second kid was not a planned pregnancy, we have realized that we need to be pretty careful with birth control. So last summer, after feeling frustrated from repeatedly forgetting to take my pill and not having it line up with my cycle, and being constantly paranoid that I would get pregnant again, I decided to get an IUD. Did some research and decided on the Mirena. My doctor recommended it highly and said that she had many patients who love it. My insurance covered it, and the draw of having lighter periods was a good one too. 

I felt pretty normal (and continue to feel normal most of the time), except that in retrospect, I very rapidly started to gain weight. I have gained about ten pounds since having it inserted, and on my 5'3 frame, this is pretty noticeable to me. Maybe other people don't really see it, but I realize now that this has been a very frustrating year for me in terms of my body image. I have gone up a pants size. Gone up a bra size. Had my rings resized. Gotten bigger t-shirts. The weight is concentrated in strange places (swollen fingers, belly, rib cage and bust), almost like I feel 3 months pregnant all the time, and despite my best efforts to exercise 2-3xs a week (more than I ever have), it is not coming off. I've been watching my carb intake as well. All the things that I've done in the past to remedy weight gain have not helped. 

At my last doctor's appointment, I asked her specifically about weight gain with the Mirena and she told me that since the hormones are more localized, you don't gain weight from it. So I just told myself it must be my metabolism slowing down in my mid-30's, or overeating that is doing it. But when I think back, I don't think my lifestyle has changed at all. If anything, I am more active than ever and I still feel pretty crappy about my body. I remember last summer that I gained weight so rapidly that after having it inserted in July, when going to a friend's pool party in August, I didn't fit my swimsuit and felt incredibly self-conscious that day. I also don't fit any of my performance dresses, and it has made being on stage become a huge fixation for me. I recently tried on a dress that I wore at the GFA Convention in June, and it didn't fit. Just one month before getting the Mirena, I had a very different body. 

I started googling around today and found a Baby Center thread with numerous women writing about this exact experience, despite their doctor telling them that an IUD would not lead to weight gain. They shared so many of the same details - that despite all their efforts to drop the pounds, they couldn't; that their doctor assured them the IUD would not make them gain weight; and that after having it removed many women reported losing 10 pounds in two weeks. I feel pretty disappointed that my doctor, who I trusted so much since she delivered both my babies, would tell me something so misleading, but she is perhaps just going off what the pharma company has told her - and the Mirena website says specifically that their product does not cause weight gain. I've felt like I'm crazy for making a correlation between the Mirena and my weight gain, and frustrated from having to tell myself that it was just my age or lifestyle that was making me feel bloated and swollen. But I think sometimes you have to trust your intuition. And no one knows my body better than I do myself! I'm sure there are many women who do not gain weight from the Mirena, but I am coming to terms with accepting the fact that I am not one of them - and it is affecting me in a more severe way than I would have thought.

I feel frustrated that I brought this upon myself, like it's some kind of strange punishment for not wanting to have more children. Perhaps the want of control over my reproductive system is something that I need to let go of, just a bit. I also have felt that this has been tied up very closely in my desire to have a career - and as a musician, having children was something that definitely affected my practicing (severe back pain trying to play a concert while 7 months pregnant!), traveling (pumping in airport bathrooms is just disgusting), and all else that comes with it. I constantly feel this tension between career and family, as many moms do, but that's a post for another day. 

Until then, I've decided that it's time to trust my instincts, not my doctor or the pharma company. I am leaning towards having her remove it in a few weeks at my annual appointment, even if it is an effective form of birth control. It's so cliche to be caught up with weight loss and I really have bemoaned ever complaining about it. But this whole thing has been very damaging to my self-confidence and been a downer on my general mood. It's time to be truthful with myself and realize what drove me here - the need to control and plan everything in my life, and the general shock of having an unplanned pregnancy, even if she is the greatest thing ever. 

So please, no judgement here - this post is a bit raw, and frustrated, because I feel pretty spoiled and ungrateful complaining about this. I haven't talked about this openly with anyone besides my husband, so I figured posting it on this secret place called the internet would be a good next step. I'm still trying to figure out what I'm supposed to learn from all this. Let me know if you have any wisdom for me. 

Stealth Concert

I played a 30 minute concert for a noon recital series in Pasadena. I've played there twice before, and I usually don't really tell anyone about it. It's more just for me to have a goal to practice towards. Seemed like a good idea at the time I booked it during the summer. But not taking my guitar on our recent trip to NJ made it pretty hard to be in good shape for this one! I found myself dreading it in the past few days, kicking myself for being such a goal-oriented hard worker (although if I were really one, I would have forced myself to bring my guitar to NJ with us. But it just seemed like too much trouble with the kids and all, much less the freezing temperatures! Not worth a potential crack.)

Well, a little cramming went a long way and although it took a lot to psych myself up for this emotionally, I have to say that I did my best and it went pretty well. Despite very short thumb and middle finger nails, which didn't bother me during practice, but did bother me during performance. I was regretting that I hadn't put a fake nail on beforehand, not liking the sound I was producing. I also wasn't crazy about the acoustics of the church - it was boomy and bright and not that forgiving. But I got lots of nice comments from the very ancient audience that attended (who else can attend a noon concert on a weekday besides retired folks?) and gave away a CD to a woman who said she didn't have a lot of money. So I guess I made my mark on the world today.

After the concert, Paul and I had planned to meet up for a lunch date at Din Tai Fung, which made me very happy. I then took the afternoon off to do some shopping and run errands, and when I got home it was already time to make dinner. So there was my day. Not a bad one!

Apologies

We recently discussed in our community group about the importance of apologizing to your children. Coming from an Asian household with the Confucian values of respecting your elders and whatnot, this has been a very new concept to me as a parent. But entering toddlerhood the first time around, I definitely felt convicted that this was a practice that I wanted to implement as an imperfect human being attempting to do a halfway decent job at this crazy thing called parenting.

I definitely failed today when E had a meltdown on the car about which park we were going to. She'd been whining all morning about wanting to play in sand. But I had already chosen a park (which had no sand) that was closest to our lunch plans, and had explained that to her repeatedly. So when she started whining again, I got really annoyed and yelled at her for complaining so much. (All of this fuss and the park turned out to not be a good decision anyway because it was 80 degrees today and way too hot to really do anything at the unshaded park!)

Later, putting away my pride, I said, "I'm sorry I got made at you in the car today."
She said, "You were mad today? When?"

Guess my yelling really made an impact on her.

Regardless of our kids' reaction to these types of failed moments in parenting, I want our kids to know that we are equally sinful and as human as they are. And relationships, even between parents and children, are still just that - relationships, which demand forgiveness, humility, grace, and healing. I'm glad she was gracious to me today.

Action

We are going to see Dudamel on Thursday.

Dudamel

How about one thing that inspired me today?

Dudamel inspires me. This performance is so alive - woodwind solos with so much heart, lush strings playing in near-perfect unison, an internal pulse from the conductor that battles the desire to rush, and a true Venezuelan-style party at the end. Take a listen. And not just because it was on Mozart in the Jungle. Need to get myself to the Phil this season.

Guitar

Today was a guitar day. My work today involved reading about guitar, practicing guitar, teaching guitar, rehearsing guitar, and listening to a 20 student guitar recital.

On my drive home, the Aranjuez concerto came on the radio and I did not turn it off. Because I can never get enough. I just love guitar.

And home again.

Ok, so I'm cheating again. Well, no excuse except that we were on a plane all day yesterday and all I wanted to do when we got home was forget that the plane ride happened. Took forever and was about 80% perfect except for the 30 minutes that Cara decided to throw food and writhe on the floor and scream in tiredness. That made me really tired. Other than that, it was peachy. 

Flight going there was incredibly perfect. Flight coming home not so much. What a difference that extra hour going westbound makes!

We arrived to 5 degree weather. With the wind chill, definitely in negative temps. But this girl adores the cold! 

Cara was a bit confused by the snow. 

My new Uniqlo down jacket served me well!

There was lots of awesome cousin bonding. These kids really did not even know each before this visit. When we saw Hudson and Margot last, everyone was too young to remember each other. But a few days together and these four were a newly formed crew of troublemakers.

Pretending to trick-or-treat.

Enjoying a moment of warmer weather at the beautiful park near the local reservoir.

Uncle Danny and Auntie Kristen even came with red envelopes in hand!

The day before we left, a few inches of new snow fell to the ground. It was beautiful, making Suzi and Dave's backyard into a winter wonderland.

All in all, a great visit with some of our favorite people.

We arrived home to pouring rain(!), right as rush hour started. Google said it would take 1.5 hours to get home from LAX; everyone was complaining. So we decided to make a dinner pit stop at the Korean market food court. The kids fell asleep on the drive home and we somehow magically transferred them to bed without waking them, which has never happened before! It saved about 1.5 hours of bedtime routine, so I guess we made the traffic time back. Elisa woke up at 5am needing to pee, but other than that, I think they were glad to be back in their beds.

Ah, home sweet home. 

New Jersey

I know this three-day post is cheating, but this trip has been full of times of such rich conversation that I have not had much time to sit down with my computer. And it has been hugely therapeutic to be off the grid for a few days, so to speak.

New Jersey isn't the most alluring destination for a family vacation, but actually, this visit has felt like a vacation in many ways. First of all, it's felt very foreign. We're not familiar with the part of Jersey that Paul's sister has just moved to, and don't know our way around. We were also not familiar with the 7 BR house that they just bought - the place is so huge that it is easy to get lost inside! It's a colonial-style home built in 1885 with original details like stained glass windows, decorated moldings, and chandeliers. It even has a servant staircase and dumbwaiter. Umma (Paul's Mom) and Halmuni (Grandma) have their own rooms, and there is a guest wing with 3 extra empty bedrooms. The home has so many lovely interior touches that feel quintessentially East Coast to me. Everything here is so steeped in history. It's also foreign to see Suzi driving a Honda Odyssey with automatic doors, baking brownies, and making chicken soup. She's an ambitious, MBA-holding ex-banker that seems more grounded and content than ever after moving to the suburbs. It's a beautiful thing to see her embracing this phase of motherhood with vigor.

We also had the pleasure of hanging out with Danny and Kristen for a few days as they vacationed here for a few days, going into the city every day to hang out with friends, see the opera, go to shows, and just being awesome in their late 20's. We didn't even bother going into the city during this trip with the various kinds of treacherous weather (below freezing, snowing all day, torrential rain) we have had when there is a whole play room with dozens of toys for the kids to enjoy all day. Instead, we let the kids have their cousin time, played in the snow when it was not quite as freezing, ate tons of Korean food prepared by Imo (Paul's super-Aunt), played an epic and hilarious game of Cranium (Suzi/Dave vs. Danny/Kristen vs. me/Paul - we won due to his knowledge of the moon's phases and my expert humming skills), had long conversations with Suzi and Dave, and enjoyed the new 65-inch TV mounted above the decorative fireplace. Perfect vacation.

Snakes on a Plane

I told Paul the other day that I'd rather be on a plane full of snakes than with two toddlers that I am responsible for. Because venom? Yeah, whatever. But tantrums? Especially two-year old tantrums? Oh God, no.

But we're doing it - tomorrow we depart for the magical land of New Jersey, where fluffy white stuff will fall from the sky and E will bask in her winter wonderland once again. The last time we went to the east coast, there was literally a blizzard on our last day and our flight got cancelled for a day. So we went sledding in the backyard of the rental house and E still talks about it as the best thing ever. We'll see how this trip turns out. Not much on the agenda except getting there and hanging out with friends and family - my mother-in-law I haven't seen since Cara's 1st birthday. So hopefully we will have some rich times together! I'm ready to pack in the Korean food.

Luckily the girls were well enough to be at school all day and I think every single kid there had equally runny noses to theirs, so I felt less guilty about dropping them off. Today was a non-stop day of work - went from two conference calls to being late to a duo rehearsal, to teaching, picking up the kids, and trying to endure this wretched 90 degree weather. Paul has been working non-stop and had had one of those all-nighter type deals last night. He was sleeping when I called him on my drive home to ask about dinner plans. We went to our default - Souplanation. Very romantic. 

One of my calls today had to do with restructuring a staff position for the non-profit I work for. I handle most of our staff transitions and I am trying to prepare myself for a difficult conversation next week. Also had one fruitful conversation with a composer about an upcoming recording project that I am really excited to see coming together, slowly. Those two things have been mostly preoccupying my mind in between nose-blowing and imagining worst-case scenarios on the airplane tomorrow. Better finish packing!

This girl.

 This girl.

This girl has me so exhausted. It is barely past 8:30 and although I was going to do a home workout, I really just want to crawl into bed and pretend this day full of tantrums did not happen. Really nothing out of the ordinary for a 2.5 year old who is still getting molars and recovering from yet another cold. It's just, well, does everything have to be such a battle? Today I got tears, screaming, and feet stomping over:
1. Which color cup I put her milk in.
2. Which socks she chose. (Gray hearts, not pink.)
3. Me helping her put on one of her shoes. We had to take it off and let her put it back on. Took about 14 minutes.
4. There was a speck of cheese on her meat at lunch.
5. Not wanting to drive past the park without stopping. I caved. And then,
6. Not wanting to leave the park once we got there.
7. Not wanting to get in her car seat.
8. Being offered a meatball. She didn't want it, so I ate it.
9. Wanting a meatball. Whoops, I ate it.
10. Not wanting to go to bath.
11. Not wanting to go to sleep. Still happening.

On Beyoncé

Lenten blogging year 3 begins here.

I am returning to a place where my thoughts live in this very private place called the Internet because it helps me have a record of them. Thoughts can be so fleeting. If not for just 40 days each year, then when?

Right now I am inspired by Beyoncé. I am amazed at her audacity (although I suppose that being a millionaire and multi-Grammy winning modern-day superstar gives you a certain amount of boldness) and I am inspired by the fact that she almost pulled a fast one on America. While most of us sat down in front of the TV with our seven-layer dip and wings waiting to only be entertained, she seized that moment, owned it, and sought to somehow bring meaning into a place where the rest of us just wanted to be wowed. And wowed I was, not just by the synchronized dance moves, but by the provocative cultural symbolism of the whole thing. I was floored and I didn't even really know what was going on.

Three days of cultural criticism on the Interwebs later, we see that America isn't quite ready for such an unabashed display of what blackness means, and that race and culture are still grossly misunderstood in our country. It makes me sad. But it also made me glad to think that the pop diva of our time still made an attempt to say something about this volatile culture we live in. Because a conversation about the "Formation" video and anything and everything in it is still better than where we were last week.

I long for any sound that I produce as an artist to have meaning. Some kind of meaning. And though I seldom find inspiration through pop culture, I tip my hat to Beyoncé for using this opportunity to say something - even if it was narcissistic, materialistic, or whatever other type of criticism one can think of. It wasn't inauthentic. And I think that's what matters.