Welcome to STORYTELLER, the blog that I’ve been thinking about creating for at least three years. I never brought it to reality for several reasons: I didn’t have a website, I was too busy, and I didn’t have the content to blog consistently. Now I have a website, I know I can make the time for blogging, and I have witnessed a plethora of blogs fade in and out during 2020, when no one had anything better to do. In other words, I have enough planned content to blog for at least a little while, and I’ve run out of the excuses I need to procrastinate any longer.

In all likelihood, you’ve seen the header, so you know what STORYTELLER is about. I will tell stories here, all of which stem from my experience as a musician, psychologist (in degree, not practice), and overanalytical literature enthusiast. Some things you might see around here include musings on opera, science fiction, my performances, my special 2021-2022 grant project, and perhaps books or TV if I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel. Post frequency will be relatively random, depending on when I have time to write, edit, and research, but I promise that I will post at least once a month until I deem this blog over. (I’ve probably sealed my grave with that last statement: alas.)

In the spirit of storytelling, I’ll close this founding post with a story about the featured image. If you’ve met me in person, you’ve most likely seen me with long or obscenely long hair. This is because (1) I like ornate hairstyles, which typically require long hair, (2) I’m too lazy and stingy to get haircuts, and (3) I like growing out my hair so I can donate it. In 2016, when I was a freshman in undergrad, I donated 16 inches of hair. I then let it grow out for the rest of my undergrad experience until I graduated in 2019. I attended commencement and took graduation photos with long hair, and a few days later asked my amazingly fashionable friend, Claire, to chop off 20 inches for another donation. (She legitimately gave the hair to me as a sawed-off horsetail and it was quite glorious.)

If you’re keeping track of the numbers, you’ll surmise that my hair grows rather quickly, and this is where my dear friend Petra enters the story. Petra and I both love having long hair, which grows at a very similar pace. We donated our hair at close to the same time and cheered each other on as it grew back (which sounds very odd, but I assure you, it’s an excellent bonding exercise). When graduation came around, I chose to donate my hair again, while Petra did not. Petra had never really seen me without long hair and insisted on seeing me after my dramatic cut so she could approve it or not. Mira: Short-Haired Edition passed Petra’s inspection with flying colors, and in fact, Petra insisted that she help me take a new set of graduation photos with short hair. So, in the blazing heat of summer on an empty university campus, I showed up with a cocktail dress and Petra with a borrowed camera, and we traipsed around taking as many goofy and/or sassy pictures as possible.