I really can’t believe it’s all over. 3 long months, and I feel like it just washed away in the quick shower I just took. All that sweat and hard work does that sneak attack on you after it’s all over. To know you’ve come so far with your bare hands and spirit.

Seigi and myself were the first students to go to San Francisco Taiko Dojo for the beginner’s class on Tuesdays. I remember running into him on the first day, and we had no idea what we were doing. Dominique took us in and showed us the ropes. Everything was so difficult, even basic renshu, which now seems like second nature. And in a matter of weeks, we had three others join us, and it was like a little clan of UCLA students.

That’s the beauty of it all, really. I remember last year suffering from a foot injury and severe back problems. I couldn’t even hit left and right on the drum without pain, and I’ve completely overhauled my skills in Taiko since then. To think I’m keeping up with Kyodo Taiko members in class is something I never really thought I could do in such a short time. Though, I still am a bit clumsy with my movement, an overall lack of coordination and fast learning capabilities. But I have time, and I’m working on it.

I just remember all the spontaneous tests, and Tanaka-Sensei’s witticisms in broken Chinese and Japanese. He’d catch us at our most awkward moments, scrambling to learn what he just taught in but a few minutes. I learn rather slowly, but Sensei made no attempt to accommodate. The pressure was on, and it was certainly productive. He graced us with his presence week after week with the purpose of making us better for our journey back to UCLA. I had to learn quickly and properly, and without this, I don’t think I would have pursued Taiko any further had it not been for his intense training.

This fall is yet another audition period. I’m worried, scared, and anxious. All I can do is put all of myself out there, like with everything in life, to see where life takes me.  I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know this experience had a profound effect on my appreciation of music—the appreciation of an art and a tradition. An understanding of what a sixty-five-year old man can do day after day and still move every soul in the room.

Per my goal this year, I’m going after what inspires me. Rejection or not, I’ve always felt a deep connection to the arts. And Tanaka-Sensei reminded me that there’s something inherent in all of us, a capability to become better, stronger, and more courageous. There’s a fighting spirit that rushes out in every drumbeat, and the heart pounds right along in tempo.

All I have to document this experience are some photos, signed bachi, and a personalized, autographed program from the SF Taiko Dojo 40th anniversary concert.

But most of all, I have the memory of each class. Each beat. Each rhythm. Each epic fail. Each mastery.

Each moment.

Graduation 

Palms bled for the very last time

Upon two wooden bachi

Blessed by his fine penmanship

And the power of the cosmos

Flowing through his arthritic hands

In every strike with aching muscles

I felt the tears of sweat

Rolling down my sunburnt skin

For this would all come to an end

With a warm kanpai farewell to

A sixty-five-year old legend

Honking his memorable horn

Goodbye

Into the foggy night

© 2009 Travis Lau