Kenley Kristofferson

Composer. Teacher. Writer. Voice Actor.

Music Ed Monday – Kick Your A– Then Bake A Cake

sailormoonThe original Sailor Moon cartoon came out in Canada when I was 12 years old and it changed my life – more as an adult than a child.

I didn’t realize how revolutionary Sailor Moon was at the time when it aired.  I got into anime through finding this channel on our satellite dish (which was probably not really for kids, let’s be honest) and it showed me that animation could be something more than just cartoons.  It was the start of a life-long relationship with anime.

I didn’t tell many kids that I watched Sailor Moon when I was that age because it was still viewed as “a show for girls” and, while I understood that it was a show of female protagonists, I didn’t really understand why it was only for girls because… well, because I watched it too.  And what did that mean for me?

It was one of the first times I can remember having an identity crisis.  However, I wasn’t old enough to understand that it wasn’t really an identity crisis at all: I knew exactly who I was, it was whether or not I had the courage to believe it in spite of what others were saying.  At the end of the day, I still taped every episode at 8:30am, right after Batman.

Then I forgot about it for almost twenty years and, just last year, I did something out of the ordinary: I watched them all again.

While a little bit juvenile at times, there are some really big messages in that show.  It wasn’t that I was too young to get them, but I was really too immature to appreciate them and I wasn’t strong enough to fight for them.  The point of the show wasn’t that girls were fighting evil monsters, it was that girls are interesting and unique people who are also strong enough to fight for themselves.

When I was a kid, I loved Tuxedo Mask.  All of my invented heroes were in tuxedos – I even made a Lego Tuxedo Mask.  But when I watched him as an adult, I realized that he doesn’t even do anything.  As a former student of mine perfectly explained:

dothething

OR

23t46ea

He’s not even a hero and that’s the whole point.  The paradigm of the female foil character that helps the uber-male-action-hero save the day is entirely turned on its head.  I especially got that in the original Japanese when I discovered scenes that were significantly watered down in the English version:

SM-sexualdiscrimination

I’d seen that meme before, but I didn’t know that it was from an actual episode, which is below:

As a kid, I didn’t realize how forward-thinking this show was, especially in the 90s.  This anime not only trailblazed the magical girl genre of anime, but also taught girls that they could be the hero of their own story and that they didn’t need any man to save them.  As a boy, this also subversively taught me that it wasn’t my responsibility to save anyone and not every girl needed saving.  Of course they don’t and I know this as an adult, but as a heroes-and-villains-oriented kid, that was a big one.  I wish I had the perspective for it to be less of a big deal, actually.

*                    *                    *

We got the internet shortly after Sailor Moon came out and I quickly learned that Japan was ahead of us in the show.  There were more than five scouts! And one was older! And one was a kid! And two of them were lesbians.

Thankfully, I had enough perspective to think this wasn’t a big deal.  I mean, the network did and I later learned that they would be very-close-cousins in the North American version, but them being lovers was just fine to twelve-year-old me.   Almost anyone who’s watched anime in the last 20 years knows that Sailor Neptune and Sailor Uranus are lesbians, yet they were the first homosexual superheroes that I’d ever experienced. But they weren’t the gay stereotypes that were flying around in the 90s as culture was discovering something that had been there the whole time, the scouts/senshi were interesting and unique people who were in love and cared about each other (and were super strong and kicked some a–).

The video above talks about that, but there’s an even better example out there right now.

Sailor Moon Crystal has given the series a facelift and rebooted it closer to the manga and, I’ve got to tell you, it’s really good.  It’s fast, it cut all the filler, it’s more serious and it’s way more feminist-oriented (and by that, I mean that it doesn’t pull any punches about an all-female lead cast who needs no help from anyone but each other).  It presents its story and apologizes for nothing.

The episode at the beginning of September introduced Makoto (Sailor Jupiter) and it showed a traditional side of women that the show often downplayed, particularly how she likes to cook and has a lost love.  But none of that is in spite of her being tough, but instead she demonstrates the ability to be both feminine and strong; both traditional and tenacious, or to put it my favourite way:

kickyourass

Having one does not negate the other.  And this happens with guys too (though, to a far less degree): You can be strong and emotional, you can like sports and be artistic, you can be smart and still be interesting.  Just be whoever you are.

Makoto never apologizes for who she is and that is one of the clearest strengths of Sailor Moon Crystal.  Ami doesn’t apologize for being smart or Rei for being spiritual.  Usagi is learning that she can be clutzy and still be a leader and that a leader doesn’t always lead with strength, but with heart.

It’s a good lesson.  Imagine if more kids led with heart than strength :)

-K

Music Ed M… Tuesday: I BEAT THE FOREST TEMPLE (AND YOU CAN TOO!)

LegendofZeldaThe-OcarinaofTimeUV-40I have a confession to make: Despite being into games for my entire life, I have never beaten the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time.

I know.  How can you trust anything video-game-related that I have to say? I haven’t even been through the core literature of our genre!  It’s like loving science fiction without having seen Star Wars, or liking fantasy without having seen/read Lord of the Rings.

In truth, I’ve never been able to beat the Forest Temple… until today.

I’m not exaggerating here, but after dying against Phantom Ganondorf over fifty times, I had given up hope.  But it wasn’t like I died fifty times all in one go: I have start and quit Ocarina of Time at least four or five times.

There was a point in my life where I had given up and, no matter how hard I tried, I would never be able to beat this game.

I can count the number of times I’ve said that one hand, so I’m a pretty persistent guy, but there’s something gravely sad about not being able to do something that so many people have clearly done, which leads me to the point that some of you may be thinking:

BUT THE FOREST TEMPLE ISN’T EVEN THAT HARD!

JUST WAIT UNTIL THE WATER TEMPLE!

or

YOU THINK OCARINA IS HARD? TRY “DEMON’S SOULS” OR
“DARK SOULS” OR…

And some of you may not be, and that’s fine, but sometimes we have these benchmarks where we assume (wrongly, I think) that these are things the average person should do.  Well, it may be that there is no “average,” there are just people who are just trying to get through life and get a little better at it as they go along.

One of my former students posted this on her instagram and it was the catalyst to my return to the dreaded Forest Temple:

IMG_2039

I love how it compares these actions to Mount Everest because it correctly contextualizes the amount of effort it will take to surmount them.  It accurately responds to the three prompts from earlier:

But the Forest Temple isn’t even that hard! –  WELL, IT’S HARD FOR ME.

Just wait until the Water Temple! – I NEEDED TO DO THE FOREST TEMPLE FIRST.

or

You think Ocarina is hard? Just try… – I DO THINK OCARINA IS HARD AND NOW I’M GOING TO BEAT IT.

angry_blue_eyes_by_craft_lover-d37j2t0

Because that’s how it ends: We beat it.

I’ve had a really successful year and I’m grateful for everyone who’s helped and I’m pleased as punch that things are going so well, but none of those things have made me howl and scream like finally killing Phantom Ganondorf.  It was like I was ten years old and the house was filled with my cry of victory.  For a good 30 seconds, it was like the Winnipeg Jets winning the Stanley Cup in Game Seven with a goal in overtime.  Solid screaming.  It was that kind of elation.

And it wasn’t because I beat the level, it was that I conquered something that I had failed over and over again.  That was my Mount Everest.  Sure, it wasn’t the tallest mountain or the hardest game (or even the hardest dungeon), but there was something in my mind that told me I couldn’t do it, then I pressed on and succeeded.

And we’ve all been there.  We’ve all done something that we’d failed on time and time again.  The difference for most of us is that those experiences probably happened most often when we were kids and we were less scared of our feelings and the world.  It is easier to give up when you aren’t a child because, when you’re young, you have nothing to lose.

I had to remember that today because I started the temple dying over and over again as usual.  In fact, I thought to myself “why am I even trying? I’m never going to be able to do this,” but I also knew that this was my Everest, not anyone else’s.  As the boss rode out of the pictures and I kept dying, I finally started to systematize where I was going wrong; in this case, my bow technique was poor.  I started to look at each round with him as practice, instead of a life-or-death struggle and I started to tell myself that I would just restart back at the beginning if I died and that I really had nothing to lose.

As I mastered the horse-riding part of the boss, he took on his spiritual form and we played some Zelda tennis with his energy balls and I died again… and again… and again.  I needed to swing sooner.

And even though I figured out the way to beat him, it doesn’t mean that I could do it.  Just because I understood the problem cognitively didn’t mean that I could solve the problem physically.  It became the same as music: Just because I can read it doesn’t mean I can do it.

So I died over and over and over and over again… until the one time I didn’t.

45707-Higurashi-no-Naku-Koro-ni-Mion-Sonozaki-blush-chibi-happy-open-mouth

Let’s not try to climb the biggest mountain ever today, but let’s do what we can and try and do a little more each time.  We don’t arm curl 60s on first day at the gym, but maybe someday we’ll get there.  And we aren’t lesser people if we can’t curl 60s on our first day, we can only do what we can do.  We might start at 5s or 10s or 20s, and wherever you start is fine.  When that feels easy move up a little bit.

Musically, we would never start a 4-year old on their first day of piano with a Rachmaninoff concerto.  They might get there someday, and maybe there are four-year olds who can do it, but everyone’s fine with where they are.

And if you surpass whatever Everest you’re working on right now, allow yourself to feel good about it.  If you let thoughts like “now I can finally do the thing that everyone else can do” get in your head, you’ll never feel good about anything you accomplish.  Do what you can do and feel good about it.  If you’re feeling ambitious, try something else just outside your realm of ability and work to do that, and feel good about that when you surpass it.

It feels good to let yourself feel good about accomplishments, no matter how small.

Have the best week,
-K

Images from:

http://thezeldarealm.blogspot.ca/2011/04/ocarina-of-time-temple-theories.html

http://craft-lover.deviantart.com/art/angry-blue-eyes-194045940

http://sweetrenn.blogspot.ca/

Sabbatical Week 2 Roundup!

Another big week on the sabbatical:

Seeing as I got to the end of Movement IV of the Icelandic Folk Song Suite, I spent most of my work on this patching up holes in the music.  I worked the transitions a lot and figured out how they’re going to work, patching up the last one just tonight (which is still a bit of a mess).

I’m definitely at the last 10% of the piece, which is often the most time-consuming.  I’ve had this piece in my head for so long that, for much of it, I couldn’t get it down fast enough.  I knew exactly where everything was going to go and how it was going to fit – well, most of it anyway.  Now it’s the real nitty gritty.

Here’s what else transpired this week:

- I also got down some earlier choral sketches, but I’m not sure if I’m going to keep them.  I like them, but we’ll see where it goes.

- Anticipating the WSO‘s Nordic Festival, Peter Johnson from the Lögberg-Heimskringla wrote an article about me and my musical development.  It was centred around high school band, video games, and how I learned to write music.  I’m really pleased with it and I hope that you pick up a paper to read it!

- I started some upcoming video game work, but nothing new to show.  In fact, I don’t even think I can show it anyway.

- I had to rewrite some Drop Assault music because it didn’t pass the top rung of the ladder with the head company and the timeline was super tight, so Tuesday was a 15-hour day and impeded some progress on the following days.  Clearly, I am not 18 anymore and can’t work like I used to.

- Speaking of Drop Assault, I’m doing a development diary for the music that I wrapped up this week.  There will be some video, an interview portion, and a supplementary blog post on the “Combat” music.  It should be up reasonably soon.

Morgunbanner

 

- And this is one of the most important ones: I put together the event for the Morgun premiere with the WSO.  It’s going to be spectacular.  If you’d like to come, all of the details are on the event page:

https://www.facebook.com/events/754205461293112/

That’s it for this week!
-K

Sabbatical Week 1 Roundup!

Holy noodle, what a week!

I’ve got quite a bit done this week, which is my very first week of my very first (and potentially only) sabbatical.

I didn’t always think of it that way, though.  My first few days were quite frustrating with the feeling that I didn’t get enough done.  I put in between 4-5 hours per day because there were things coming up during the day or at night (meetings, get-togethers, shindigs in the last throes of summer).  I’ve spent all of my time on Movement IV of the Icelandic Folk Song Suite and was averaging about creating 15-20 seconds per day.

The very first thing that I set down was the woodwind run on the second statement of the theme.  This one:

When I told my father-in-law about the 15-20 seconds per day, he laughed and said “you’d better speed it up!” I laughed too because I was thinking the same thing.  It wasn’t moving fast enough.

Today, I buckled down and wrote hard from 10am-5:00pm (with half an hour to run errands and eat a snack) and was now up to 1:40 in the piece.  Today was my first day where I really put a big dent in the piece: I worked out a bunch of the runs and voicings on paper, figured out where most things are going to go, and put almost all of it into Finale.

Then I looked at what I had actually put into the computer and it was 12 reasonably-complete pages.  It wasn’t that I’d only written 1:40 of music, I had written over 130 measures of music in four days.  That’s a lot!

(…for me, anyway).

 

PS: Movement IV is flippin’ fast.

Screen Shot 2014-09-05 at 5.03.06 PMScreen Shot 2014-09-05 at 5.03.19 PMScreen Shot 2014-09-05 at 5.03.34 PMScreen Shot 2014-09-05 at 5.03.43 PM

The adage remains true: When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

I’ll be busy most of Saturday, but I think that I’ll put some good time in on Sunday.  It’s really great to have the time to really work out the music the way that it needs to.  It gets performed in May, and will need some time for rehearsal, so there’s time to get it right.  I’ve got four months to the premiere (I’ll be gone almost all of November, but more on that later!) and it’s going to be awesome :)

-K

 

Music Ed Monday – The First Day

1schoolboy2-medTomorrow is the first day of school.  I can’t remember a time where the September Long Weekend didn’t mean “it’s time to get ready for school.”

As a kid, that meant schedules, timetables, and school supplies.  As a young adult, that meant paying tuition and buying textbooks.  As a grown-up (whatever that even means), that meant prepping the classroom and getting ready to head back to work.

But not this year.

My school division has been gracious enough to grant me a one-semester sabbatical to compose full-time and so I won’t be back in the classroom until February.  This is the first time I won’t have a “first day of school” since 1989.

Since I was five.

That’s hard for me to wrap my head around and it’s hard to let go, but that’s what new things feel like.  Change is hard, man, but that’s life.  The only constant in life is change – the only thing that stays the same is the idea that nothing ever stays the same.

And that’s okay.  Firstly, because I’m coming back; secondly, it’s helped me appreciate these past years of teaching; thirdly, this distance will most likely refuel my tank and make me a better teacher; and finally, some time away will give me some perspective into what I want to do academically with my students.

I’m coming back, so it’s all good.  I’m clearly not saying goodbye forever – I am not in the universe of ready for that.  It’s easy to go away if you know you’ll come back, like leaving home for summer camp.  At this point in my life, teaching is still way too much fun and super important in my sense of self and my ability to make a difference in my community.  I think about the world around me from a perspective of being an educator and I carry myself like a teacher.

And knowing that I’m not coming back until February has really made me look at the last few years in a different way.  I’ve met a lot of awesome human beings and I look forward to meeting more.  I’m in a position where I get share to discovery with people who are in the process of unravelling some of the things that changed my own life.  I really miss that about being a teenager: the sheer volume of Eureka! and Aha! moments that happen in such a short period of time.  How can I make those as interesting and exhilarating as they were (and still are) for me?

When you’re in the thick of it, it’s hard to look at it objectively because you’re in entrenched inside it.  How many times in my life have I forgotten to bring materials, or messed up the order of introducing ideas, or had boring classes? The machine is so complicated and running so fast that it’s hard to keep everything as inspiring and interesting as you want… until you step away from it.  My wheels are already turning and I predict that second semester will be my best yet, which concurrently means that it should (hopefully) by my students’ best yet too.

It’s hard to gain perspective when you’re right inside it and I’ve got some great ideas for second semester.  Music History is going to be the best yet.  So will Jr. Symphonic.  So will Big Band.

I’m also really interested in the sensation of being inside composing for five months and I will be because there’s so much to do.  Here is the sabbatical to-do list:

- one lyrical band commission
– one exciting band commission
– one four-movement suite of Nordic folk songs
– one orchestra premiere
– one residency (hopefully, I’m still getting evaluated)
– one video game to score

There are other irons in the fire, but we’ll see how these shake down.  I’m optimistic that it’s going to be great and I hope that everyone’s school year begins with that establishment.  Set yourself up for success, think positively, do your best.

Let’s have a great year,
-K

 

 

Music Ed Monday (Tuesday) – Kindness Matters

When I was in third year university, a flautist and fellow student named Jessica was killed in a car accident.  I remember that winter being very traumatic at school, but one moment was particularly so.

While I wasn’t in the U of M Symphony Orchestra, my friends who were told me that the next rehearsal was cancelled, but practice would resume on its next regular class.  The following rehearsal was very quiet and had one noticeably empty 1st Flute chair.

That’s one image that always stuck with me: The quiet orchestra and the empty chair.  If we extrapolate that, there is an absence of that part when the music is played like the ensemble is waiting for a flute solo that will never be heard quite the same way again.

madisonLosing one of my students is my worst nightmare and, at the very beginning of summer, it happened to Karri Anderson in Olds, Alberta.  In fact, it would be more appropriate to say that it happened to everyone in the community.  To celebrate Madison’s life, the music program at the school has commissioned me to write a piece about her.

It’s difficult to look into the face of something you so dreadfully fear, but you need to because that’s life.  With that said, I’ve begun learning about her, starting with a piece in her local paper and obituary.  When you read about her life, her interests, and her personality, it’s hard not to believe the adage that the brightest flames burn quickest.

One thing stuck out more than others, though: Kindness matters.  It was her favourite saying and something that I live by as well.  I feel a strange kinship with this 16-year old that I’d never met and, sadly, never will.

What’s difficult about the commission is that it’s for people who not only knew her, but have had to endure her absence.  It can’t just be warm and bubbly because that’s not real – that’s not their experience.  The piece is as much for the band, the family, and the community as it is for her and it needs to give them solace too.

It needs to be deep and moving with a delicate balance of warmth and loss.  It can’t be entirely depressing, but it can’t be devoid of hurt and heartache.

I feel a lot of pressure to do an exceptional job, but I think that’s okay.  We’re not writing about a trip to the fair or an English field – this is about someone who was loved but taken too quickly.

While tragic, it reminds me that we don’t always have everyday to say what we’re feeling, so make sure you tell your loved ones that you love them today.

-K

“Betty Boop Dance Card” Released!

bbdclogoHoly smokes, “Betty Boop Dance Card” is out for iOS!

I’m really proud of this score and it pushed me harder than ever before.  It is, by an enormous margin, the most music I’ve ever written for a game, clocking in at approximately 46 minutes of music.  The score is incredibly diverse – from swing to rock to 8-bit to modern pop… it’s got a lot going on.

It’s put together by the awesome folks at Fowl Moon Studios and we’re super excited to share it with you!

You can pick it up at the iOS App Store FOR FREE!

I learned a lot while I was writing this game.  I learned how to write a sax soli properly (from poring over Sammy Nestico’s arranging book), I learned how to use the VI chord effectively in a major-key turnaround, and I learned how to harness the YMCK 8-bit plugin for some pretty serious chiptune action.  Okay fine, other skills too, but getting swing chord progressions under my pencil was game-changing.

If you’re still thinking about it, here’s the trailer ;)

Prairie Wedding is Available!

Prairie Wedding COVER

Happy Easter!

The day is here! Prairie Wedding is published and available for purchase! You can find it at the Daehn Publications website! (or your favourite local music dealer!)

It feels like so long ago that I submitted it for the 2012 CBA Composition Competition and here we are, halfway through 2014 and it’s finally in print.  I don’t mean that in a critical way – that’s just how long things take in the arts, especially when publication is involved.

I am so, so, so grateful to Larry Daehn for taking a risk on my and publishing BOTH Filum Vitae and Prairie Wedding.  Seriously, what a great human being.

Below is a recording by the ever-awesome Cleveland Symphonic Winds under the direction of Loras John Schissel.

Morgun – *WORLD PREMIERE!*

I am so excited to announce, in conjunction with the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra and the Icelandic Festival of Manitoba the WORLD PREMIERE of my work for Symphony Orchestra, Morgun.

It premieres on October 31st, 2014 at 8:00pm at the Winnipeg Centennial Concert Hall in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.

photo (15)

(that’s not me, we just look weirdly alike)

“Morgun” is Icelandic for “morning” and, when I was approached to write a piece as part of the 125th anniversary of the Icelandic Festival, I knew that its heart would be morning.  Perhaps the first morning after the settlers arrived, perhaps “morning” as a metaphor for the start of something new.  At its heart, it was the start of something new.

Growing up in Gimli, MB (the home of the festival) and being Icelandic, the story of the settlers coming over from Iceland in the mid-1800s has always been a part of my being.  Both sets of grandparents spoke Icelandic fluently and I grew up hearing it.; at Christmas, there was never a shortage of pönnukökur or vinatarta, and we were always in town for the festival (but usually working for most of it, being a local and all).

When I was approached by Janice Arnason to compose a piece for the 125th, I was elated.  Janice was last year’s president of the festival as well as my elementary music teacher, piano teacher, and Grade 6 LA/SS teacher – this is how small towns work :) Anyway, I feel immense gratitude that she would ask me to commit something so important and meaningful to the culture of our town.  Even though I’ve worked games for some pretty big franchises, I only have three things published for actual ensembles of live human beings, so I’m still a bit green to professional writing, if you look at it objectively.

But that’s part of growth: If you work really hard, do good work, and are an easy person to work with, people you respect will take risks on you.  This is how it works – someone needs to take a risk on you, and the beauty of a small town is that it’s easy to take a calculated risk because the people you respect have known you your entire life.

In short, I am grateful.  To some degree, I am also lucky, but working hard can help you load the dice.  Like measured risk, it’s measured luck, but I am always grateful when it actually works out :)

I’ll post more about the process later on!

Kenley

Music Ed Monday – The Big Leagues

When I walked into Complex Games that fateful Spring day of 2013, I saw 3D models of, what looked like, the nephews from DuckTales, but immediately put it aside.  I had a meeting with Noah Decter-Jackson (the CEO of the studio) because he wanted to talk to me about an upcoming project.

“… No…” I thought to myself in disbelief.  “I must be mistaken.”

I guess I was trying not to get my hopes up.  Then I passed another monitor and they were tweaking some colour on Scrooge McDuck’s smoking jacket.  Could it be…?

Then I saw Noah and we smiled and shook hands.  He invited me into his office and we caught up for a while (I had been doing contract work for Complex Games for about seven years at this point, so we’ve got a great relationship).  Off the cuff, I said: “Wow, this new game looks a lot like DuckTales!” To which he smiled and said “it is DuckTales.  Have a seat.”

The moment of rising anxiety-mixed-with-excitement is what I’ve come to call the “big leagues” feeling.  That was the first time I ever really felt like I was in over my head.  I was playing in the big leagues.

He walked me through the level design and we determined what would need music and how much.  It was only six tunes and I knew that I could do it, but the quality had to be so, so, so, so high.  I make my stuff as high-quality as I can, but it’s rare that I’ll be lying awake at 11:30 worrying if I put too much mid in the bass EQ.

(That specific example is below.  Seriously, it’s the most iconic bass line in Disney, which will bring me to my next point:)

It’s important not only to want to do a good job, but the other side of that coin is the overbearing feeling of “don’t screw it up.”  And it really is a ton of work.  A metric ton.  Of work.  It’s a ton work that you want to be great, but also to not screw up.

It is so messed up, but I got it done and I grew for it.  I was better for it.  It leads up to something I’ve told my students quite often, best articulated by Courage Wolf:

courage-wolf-bite-off-more-than-you-can-chewThe feeling of being overwhelmed by contibuting something that you believe is beyond you is called a great opportunity for growth.  By going through those feelings of stress, of working so hard you don’t think you can keep going, of continual revision, of the pursuit of your personal best and a constant and consistent strive for excellence, you enable yourself to grow.

I still get those feelings.  I got them with my next contract, KRE-O: CityVille Invasion when I saw toys for the game I was making.  I’m currently working on Betty Boop Dance Card for iOS and I still get those feelings.  Last week, I was so stressed that all I could think about was throwing up and scotch.  But hey, guess what? I made it through without either throwing up or scotch.  When you play in the big leagues, the big league feelings never go away.

Growth is never easy and it rarely feels good until after it’s over.

In teaching, this is what the musical feels like.  It’s two weeks before the show, it’s 9pm on a Tuesday and I just want to go home.  But we aren’t done yet.  We’ve been working on these scenes for months because that’s how long it takes and it has to be good.  That’s one part; the other part (as the pitband director) is don’t screw it up because the singers/actors/dancers are depending on you.  And then the show happens and it’s amazing and we’re so proud of everyone.  At that point, we know that it’s worth it and everyone grew even though it was so much work because it was so much work.

That’s what growth looks like.  You don’t get to grow by doing things you can already do, you grow by doing things you can’t.  You grow by throwing yourself in, drowning for a bit, stressing, struggling, busting your butt, then eventually figuring things out, then working some more, then getting it, then tweaking, then perfecting, then feeling awesome.

So bite off more than you can chew… then chew it.
K

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