okay I am totally nerding out right now but I think percussion is so fucking cool because it’s still such a young family of instruments compared to others. Most of the first percussion ensembles written aren’t even a hundred years old yet. There are major “standard” solos/ensembles that have been written during my lifetime. Is that not the coolest shit. Like, this art form is still evolving, and I am alive to see it happen, not just read about it hundreds of years later in a history textbook. I could potentially SHAPE how music is written for my instrument. Like. It’s blowing my mind.
There are two instruments in a percussion ensemble that will never be amplified with a microphone: the bells (glockenspiel) and the xylophone. This is because they drown everyone out anyways with their ear-destroying sounds.
The AHS Percussion Ensemble took home the 1st place trophy yet again at our competition yesterday. Championships are next Saturday on May 5th! Please come support us and we’ll hopefully bring home first place again! =) <3 It’s in Orange County in Fountain Valley. It’s at Los Amigos High School! :)
So when I had percussion ensemble my freshman year, the entire class was full of dudes who just couldn’t care less about why they were there other than for the credits. Things got progressively worse as the year went on, and the boys got so out of control and cared so little that at one point they just started playing baseball in the band room using a bass drum mallet and bottle caps.
Don’t ever give up on your dream of marching Drum Corps and don’t let anyone tell you you’re incapable of making it. I started as a saxophone player and continued to be a voice major, neither are really found in DCI. As of today I have marched 2 seasons of World Class corps and marched in DCI finals with my dream corps, Phantom Regiment. I told myself I wouldn’t give up until I achieved my dream….you shouldn’t either.
I wrote a thing inspired by the blind!Adrien AU “Blind Spots,” which belongs to @qookyquiche@laundromatic and @girlwithribbon I think? Sorry it’s not too well-developed and kind of drabbly. I’ve just been adding to it for the last few days ;)
A Beautiful Sight
It’d been immature—he knew that. But sometimes it was just too much to take and he knew that if he went home miserable and upset, Nathalie would say something to his father. Going to public school was tough, but that didn’t mean he wanted to quit. Still, some days were worse than others.
Which made being Chat Noir that much more tempting. He was abusing his power, using Plagg as a way to escape, and he knew he shouldn’t be doing it, but he hadn’t been able to sleep. Not after such a horrible day.
It’d started with the whispering. The voices hadn’t been familiar, so he hadn’t known who they were, but that hadn’t meant their words were any less hurtful. Really, he should have known better than to listen upon realizing what the topic of conversation had been. Past experience had taught him that—over and over and over again.
“If you look close enough, you can see where they photoshopped his eyes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, that bit of blurriness right there.”
“Oh! Wow! I kind of feel like that’s cheating or something though.”
“All models get photoshopped.”
“Yeah, but he can’t even look at the camera. Too bad too—his eyes are so pretty…”
“I know! But I can’t stand to look at him in real life. It’s just… weird.”
“Cuz he never really looks at you, right?”
“Yeah. It’s unnerving. Creeps me out.”
Just thinking about it made Chat purse his lips, heels banging on the side of his brick perch. He knew he should ignore it, but that was easier said then done. He made efforts too “look” at people when they were talking, but apparently he wasn’t successful. And it was that thought process, after listening to such comments, that had ruined his afternoon shoot. He’d been so self-conscious in his attempts to follow the clicking of the camera that he’d, apparently, lost all his modeling appeal.
Something about craning his neck strangely every time he tried to “look” at the camera.
A failed endeavor, in any case. And one of the worst photoshoots he’d ever had. It was so bad that the photographer had called his father and advised they do another—to make up for his lackluster performance. No, his father hadn’t been pleased and Adrien had only felt all the worse for it.
If there was anything he hated, it was when his disability interfered with the lives of others. He tried so hard not to get in the way—to pull his own weight. But sometimes it was like life worked against him. Bad luck, maybe.
When you’re pit section leader your sophomore year while your school is under major construction so you have to move all your instruments super far to get to the field and you get in trouble for being late
So much spit. It’s everywhere. Even non-wind players. It’s everywhere. It’s in your instrument. It’s on the band hall floor. It’s on you. You begin to wonder where the spit ends and where the rest of the world begins.