music free my soul - Lijie: Blog

My aunt brought my mom and I back to Baoding, the city where I was born and raised until the age of 5 1/2. We passed by the pre-school I once ran away from when a teacher locked me in a closet (a long story). The school has been completely rebuilt, no longer requiring students to urinate in outdoor toilets (which were once holes. Actually, if my memory serves me correctly, they were more rectangular in shape than circular. But holes nonetheless). We also visited my cousin's old neighborhood where she and I would run around like tom-boys. I am somewhat shocked that this place was once home; and from what I recall, a very happy one. I know it may seem shallow, but it's difficult to imagine that a run-down one-room shack could create such happy and fond memories. But it did (smile).

Baoding is masked by a layer of pollution, something I never noticed when I was young. During our tour of HeBei University (the first performance location), it was difficult to smile because of the dust.

My uncle and I smoke Chinese cigarettes morning, noon, and night (for those who did not know me as a smoker, smoking is a habit I hope to kick. Please pray that I will stay strong. Thank you.) The cigarettes are harsh, like Marlboro Reds. I have been told that Chinese women rarely smoke in public. Most females are closet smokers. I can understand why as I light up at restaurants, and feel the presence of many eyes coming towards my direction. Unwanted attention.

Besides an abundance of cigarettes, chopsticks, and bicycles, almost every house will hold a supply of sunflower seeds (or watermelon seeds, or seeds of something I did not know could carry seeds). My family and I often watch tv, accompanied by the sounds of seeds being cracked, and the occasional inhale of a cigarette.

When my mom and I first arrived in Beijing and stepped outside of the airport, the first thing I thought was "wow, this city is polluted." I've been to Beijing before, but it seemed this was the first time I actually took the time to experience my surroundings. Because we arrived on a day where it had sprinkled rain earlier in the day, the air was thick with dust. The drive back from the airport was an hour of tree/people/building/street watching. And I thought people in LA were aggressive drivers! Drivers in Beijing just GO. My kind of city = ). I do not know how people on bicycles have the courage to ride amongst the lawless traffic.

Yesterday, my aunt took my mom and I to a park built during the Ming Dynasty where the emperor of China use to live. We walked on the center pathway (where only the emperor could walk) and we felt like emperors for awhile (roughly for a minute before other tourists/visitors had to pass us on the trail).

The food here is AMAZING (dumplings, wontons, red-bean popsicles) and everything is so inexpensive! Five adults can eat a full course lunch, including alcohol, for around $5. Just to reiterate, that's five American dollars for five grown adults.

So far, the only music I've really been able to experience is practicing my guitar and attempting to write new songs in the guest room of my aunt's house. She lives on the 14th floor of her building, and the view outside her window is breathtaking. Just don't look straight down.

We have to purchase an outlet adapter as my camera is about to die, and my laptop is officially sleeping until further notice. SO...please visit back in a few days for new updates. Much love from China-lijie

Moving out of my apartment in San Francisco. Labeling boxes with a red permanent marker. Separating the "must haves" and the "no longer needed" items. And yet I still find myself attached to the strangest things...like the multitude of colored pens that have been sitting in my desk drawer...and neon colored post-its with my illegible handwriting. I feel like I'm starting over. Again.

What is it about peanut butter that makes it so irresistible to the pallet? My mom told me her family owned a peanut farm (no joke), and that my addiction is hereditary (she also confesses her dependence to the nutty substance).

I’ve been working on new songs (change of subject. Reader, please follow. Thank you) and wondering how and when I will be able to record a new album…hmmmmm…hard to think after peanut butter overload…(back to original topic. Reader, please refer to paragraph above. Thank you, again.) I’ve been having a moral delima as to which one is better: creamy vs. nutty. Maybe it’s a mood-type-thing. Maybe I should take a poll.

And does the period go before or after the parenthesis? I’ve googled this question, and the rules seem to swing back and forth. Or rather, the makers of such rules. (Reader, are my fragmented sentences making any sense?)

I once had a high school English teacher tell me my short story (about a boy I liked, of course) was littered (more like dump-trucked) with fragmented sentences. And yet I found when I changed the sentences so that they were grammatically correct, the story lost its…ughmm. (Reader, can you say that word out loud? I tried. Now I’m laughing at myself. Ha ha ha.)

What is it about certain people that make you nervous around them? And what came first, the chicken or the egg? How come that question is still unanswered? And is there such thing as a peanut butter addiction? If so, there must be medication for it. Nevermind, I'm no good with meds (or relationships). I mean, I often forget to take my daily multivitamin.

I must admit, I was nervous and hesitant about going to LA for a whole month. I know, it sounds silly, especially with the inviting weather. But I am trying to alter my sometimes warped way of thinking, and face my fears. To be honest, I can't even recall what my original fears of LA were...maybe I was scared of sunburn.

Okay, no mas dwelling on the past.

I am now a full-time musician. Whoa. Saying it outloud (or writing it, rather) seems surreal. This means no more depending on answering multiple phone lines to make ends meet (yes, I was an admin for awhile). I can't tell who the more worried party is, my parents or me. = )

Getting back to LA, I saw old friends and also met some new ones. Should I list them...? Why not. I love you Cinds, Shay, AJ, Jeff. And it was great fun meeting you all: Luka, Maqui, Lionel, Pesci, Jo, Val, Joella (sp?)...am I forgetting anyone...hope not.

BTW, performing on the Promenade on Third Street was everything and nothing like I thought it would be. Busy, crazy, cold, chilly, sunny, then slow, and almost quiet.

Why is kicking caffeine so difficult? I know, I know, I just need to put a little more leg into it = )

Sitting in a car for 10+ hours. Stopping for extra extra large coffees, and then half an hour later, needing a bathroom break. Listening to Bjork until her voice is embedded inside my brain. Laughing at cheesey jokes with Corbet (guitar player) and then sitting in silence. Actually, not silence; Bjork. But she has now become a part of our tour and blends easily into the background. I listen to her until my heart pounds and aches. She is amazing. Quirky and strange, but aren't we all?

Back to the road.

So much rain in the northwest. RAIN. And then it stops. Windshield wipers change between full speed, and slow mode. Squeak squeak against a dirty window pane. Ironically, the windshield is dirtier on the inside than the outside. Must remember to buy car air-freshener (and not the kind that hangs from the rearview in the shape of a leaf. But something that holds a consistent scent) and windshield cleaner. How does the inside of a windshield get so dirty when I do not recall touching it? But then again, I do not remember cleaning it either. Regardless, must get windshield cleaner.

A man came to our Borders show in Salem. He actually missed the show and only saw us breaking down our equipment. He had the tightest pants on...I tried not to look, but when it's right there in your face...