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About Kep

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    Queen of the Momeraths!
  • Birthday 02/07/1990

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    ps, http://yourserenade.deviantart.com<br />some call it art. <br />my website=my journal, a place where I can talk freely and I don't need to "check length."<br />Blonde hair, brown eyes, big heart. I'm a hopeless romantic in search of a meaning.
  1. wow. Holy hiatus, batman! Sorry for the disappearing act, guys. I guess I have a knack for that, eh? So, here I am on the sunny coast, at university. It is great fun, to say the least. Good dorm mates (but single room!), good food, good classes, good everything! I joined the swing dance society, (which is SO MUCH FUN) and the science society (I already have a place on a committee!), and this Polish folk dance group that isn't through the school. First meeting of the Polish folk dance tonight, and I'm pretty excited. They also want me to play my violin in it as well as dance, and it's going to be such a great opportunity. There's even talk of a trip to Poland in 2008 to attend a festival there! Which would be awesome. I'm thinking there's bound to be someone there who can teach me, or show me where to be taught, how to speak my own language, which will be great, because right now I'm limited to random food words, random colour words, and the things I say to my romanian boy (I miss you, I love you, etc.) Basically everything is wonderful, everything is going where I want it to be going in my life. Have a multitude of jobs lined up for me next summer when I go back home, including a teaching job for violin at one of the colleges just outside the city. Group classes, leading a chamber group, summer day camps, that sort of deal. Appying for research job with national research council. Boy is wonderful and coming out to visit me for the november long weekend. Life is good. That's pretty much the reader's digest version of the update for my life. XD I missed you all!! <3.14159!
  2. I heard there were no surviving recordings of Paganini playing, so I can't make a personal preference judgement on his playing itself, though his pieces are undeniably brilliant. XD But yes, good point. Paganini was...I can't even say 'godly' as I can with Heifetz. XD Paganini, I've been told, was a devil - and a lot of people in his time thought so, too. But he was a devil in the exciting way, and he definitely took joy in writing those pieces that absolutely mock us violinists with strings that are organized in an arch. Do you play, Horatio?
  3. Here's a little story for you all: For a while, Jascha Heifetz* had a page turner who was absolutely terrified of him. The only things they said to one another were, "Good morning," and "Good bye." One day, the page turner mustered the courage to say to Heifetz, "I really enjoyed hearing what you just played," (or some such), and Heifetz's response was, "OH, SO I FINALLY PLAYED SOMETHING YOU LIKED." The two never spoke to one another again. I think the moral of this story is clear. *note, if you don't know who Jascha Heifetz is... look him up! He was the greatest violinist to ever grace the planet, and you should all listen to some of his recordings.
  4. Haha, yeah, I do. 4 is indeed traffic, and 5 is a bundle of christmas lights that don't happen to be on a tree. ^^
  5. do you want hints, or the answers, for 3/4/5? the one you think is a clear plastic spiral... nope. I actually don't know what was causing it, but somehow, the sunrise through my closed blinds made those shapes on the wall. XD I give away the anser, because I don't think you'd ever guess that! ahaha. ^^
  6. hehe. I bet I can guess which ones are giving you trouble. XD Want a hint?
  7. a bit scrappy, if I do say so myself. Written last May. ---- At night, she dreams of cellists from the land immortalized by Bartok, with touseled hair, and liquid brown eyes. Bilingual and beautiful, he confides in her, secrets she can barely remember by the time she wakes. Every night, she'll give everything, anything for his love. She gives the retinas with which she sees the world, her ventricles, each finger, every part inside her that sings whenever she hears Brahms, and the lungs that can't breathe whenever Heifetz plays Sibelius. Her dream lover is an extension of her being. and there is no pain quite like being cleaved in two, when he tells her that she chose an instrument with too few strings. So, by day, she dreams of pianists, from the land of her ancestors and immortalized by Chopin. The kind of Prince Charming that won't let her cry, and the stability of a love without complications- a sedative for the delicate procedure of putting her back together again. She dreams of dreamless sleep.
  8. haha. it was 19 pages, size 12 Times New Roman font, 1.5 spacing. IB has very strict requirements about font. XD ahaha.
  9. I can't believe that no one commented on your fish's punny name. XD It's awesome, though. Are you at a choir college, too, then??? I'm jealous of Ian's hair. XD That boy has hair I will never get to have!! hahaha.
  10. ahahaha. I'm so bad for typos, lately. XD I bet a platinum mood is FANTASTIC. ^.~
  11. EXTENDED ESSAY VICTORY IS MIIIINNNNEEEE!!!!!!!! So... I had to write this paper for school that is essentially a 4000 word thesis on a topic of my choice. And... I procrastinated really badly on it, and finally finished it just in time to send it off to wales, or new zealand, or some far off country to be graded, this morning. My paper was on multiple sclerosis and something called glycopharmacology, which is the development of carbohydrate-based drugs. ...I wouldn't be surprised if that goes over your heads. XD It was a complicated topic, but my paper turned out beautifully. AND NOW I CAN ACTUALLY GO TO SLEEP AT NIGHT INSTEAD OF WORKING ON IT. So I am happy. I'm sleep deprived to the point of delirium, but that's okay. XD almost at 100 pages in Kepdom. ^^
  12. *wubbles the platinum mood award and the 10 points!* Aww, I'm so glad you like my stuff.
  13. here, have another one. written during a break at work (I was a stock market analyst specialising in on-balance volume. there are some allusions to the stock market in there, that I don't know if anyone other than horatio might get, but that's okay, they're not necessary to the understanding of the poem.) --- Cold coffee in the mornings, and I can't concentrate at work. My thoughts are not ready for on-balance volume when I am so preoccupied with recent memories of you. all I can think about is how boys always lie and claim they felt nothing, the whole time, "I only meant it a little bit." "I only said it to humor you." "I never loved you, I swear." "I never meant to hurt you." when words have been said, and actions made, that say, "I look at you, and all my worries float away, and you are my escape from reality, and, at the same time, you are my reality, made so much better." "I want you near me." "I love you." "You glow. It's beautiful." in volumes beyond decibal measurement. The worst is "I never meant to hurt you." Because it is like an appology, without ever bothering to say the words, "I'm so sorry, now." And it fails to realise that it never matters if you meant it or not, because it still hurts, and it will continue to hurt, beyond the realm where appologies make things better. Even if I never say it, (and I never, never will), Even if I never tell you that it's hurting inside, somewhere I can't find, it will still be there, long after you are gone. I am tired of feeling this way, beautiful lovesick disaster caught in downside exhaustion. And I don't want to fall in l____ again, if they only keep on telling me, "It was never real," When it was as real to me, as this cold cup of coffee.
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