Welcome to Gaia! ::

This is a little thing I dedicate to my band.
I'm in colorguard.
We're known as the Magnificent Marching Marlins.
Our theme that year [09-10] was Atlantis: The End of Days.
A pretty tragic story.
I hope you guys can somewhat related to this...

The days of practice per week during band camp over summer break.
The everlasting hours spent practicing, instead of using it as social hours or lazy hours.
The dreadfully hot sun blazing down on your bare skin and black asphalt.
[days like that, you appreciate the soft, gentle breezes that are blessed mercifully upon your sun burned, tanned skin by Mother Nature and the puffy, white angel clouds blocking the strong rays of the bright ball of energy in the sky].
The frost bite, drastically cold temperatures that nips at your skin during winter.
[days like that, you realize how pretty and amusing your breath looks like in the cold air, how nice the warmth of an other's body feels, and when you're 'on the move', you don't even notice you're cold].
The discipline, policies, and advice.
[can not wear (denim) jeans to practice. always bring water. bring your instruments. bring your binders. bring a pencil. don't bring an attitude].
The punishment caste upon us if you don't abide.
[running a certain number of laps depending on what you did. push ups. crunches. geewd times].
The 'stupid' moments when you forget your lunch/dinner and politely ask someone to share [or you just starve].

The reward of it all is better than ecstasy.

After the painstaking hours of excruciating practices.
After the many hit and runs, bruises, and injuries received.
After the overexertion and dehydration.
After all of it...

You stand there, in front of a silent audience. Immediately, thousands of eyes are drawn to your aura of confidence.
Anticipation.
The pumping adrenaline coursing through every fiber of your soul.
Your eyes set upon the drum major, waiting for her to begin count off.
5. 6. 5. 6. 7. 8. 1!
Move.
Hormones go off wildly through out your bloodstream.
Your bruises and injuries are long forgotten for your mind is far too distracted to worry about such a trivial matter.
All you can think of is the surrounding music and the work.
Your uniform moving with you in swift, yet graceful movement across the large, green [and at times generic] field.
The crowd gazes at you with a countenance of astonishment [The bands glare at you with a countenance of envy]. Their jaws ajar. Their eyes widened. Their emotions indescribable.
The complex, yet simple shapes smoothly formed. The in beat steps and rolling feet. The impacting music capturing the listener in to a story of a tragic history. The amazingly dramatic visuals, allowing the audience to see the battle and struggles before their very eyes.
Nothing prevents you from reaching the end. Not even the judges that may or may not be hit by a 6-7 feet pole/flag or trampled by a barrage of teenagers with golden/silver, lustrous instruments in hand.

The last few counts go by swiftly and you end in a striking pose.
Your shoulders heave up and down with your short breaths as you try to regulate your quick heartbeats.
Your hair is disheveled from all the movements.
You have a sudden itch that you force yourself not to scratch.
Your head held high with pride [still looking at the drum major, mind you].

Then...

A burst of energized cheers and applause is heard.
The entire crowd stands with excitement, letting you know they greatly enjoyed your outstanding performance and wish for an encore or two.
As you exit the field, you can still hear the enthusiastic screams.

At that moment, you don't care what place or reward you get [but at the same time you do] because you know you are great. You don't need a trophy or silver dollar to tell you that. And you know you will do better because you are a Marching Marlin

and being a Marching Marlin means everything...and then some. :]

that was wonderful i loved it

I really liked it! I don't beleive my bands marching season is so hard... we only have 2 hours on tuesdays and thats it besides classes during the school day. We didn't have to run laps or anything painful just breath play practice marching the end.... I wish my band was large enought to know the pain and effort you put in to your field shows.


We wish you luck with your bands achievments.

--The Colts

Beautiful. smile


I miss marching band. crying