6 Days

Wow. Amazing. Spectacular. I really keep blogging because I feel bad for the month of June and it’s lack of entries.

6 days left. 6 days left. 6 days until I am continually less cold. 6 days until I don’t have semi-daily encounters with ticks. 6 days until I don’t have to be up by 7am. 6 days until I see my best friends. 6 days until I get to take a much-needed cello break.

6 days until I have to leave this island. 6 days until I have to give up gorgeous sunsets. 6 days until I have to give up the clearest waters around. 6 days until I have to say goodbye to my quartet. 6 days until I have to part from a slew of people I don’t understand how I’ll manage without.

Eh. It’s not really that bad. I’ve been having fun, but I’m definitely ready to get back to normal, non-intensive-chamber-music camp life. I have to say the best things I have experienced have been the faculty, and the concerts. So. Much. Good. Music. I’m really burnt-out, musically, though. Er, not musically. I’m burnt out on cello. It’s really sad when you have to deal with not wanting to play during intensive rehearsing, but oh well.

Entry Title Here

Sam, the librarian, is throwing stuff at me to prove productive use of his time.

Yeah. Again, only blogging because I feel the obligation, being on a computer.

There is extreme discussion of dryer sheets going on, around me.

nKyahahaha

Lalala.

Just sitting here in the library. The staff are watching Pirates of the Carribean and folding up sheets of paper with concert-announcements in the next room. I’m blogging because I can’t resist. Any entries I get in are based on the availability of this computer. I walked into the center for some tea and amazingly enough, there was the computer, sitting happily on its own.

I hardly know what to blog about, since I haven’t blogged in so long. I’m way too used to booking, so I’m in foreign thought-recording territory, now. Hmm. Maybe I’ll try NOT to blog until I’m home, because this isn’t working.

Dear Everybody: your comments ROCKED.

Durr

Whoa. Twice within a few days? Don’t expect more out of me than this. I have no idea why the computer was actually free this morning. Plus, I just watched Lucia leave an extensive (nyaha) lj comment, and felt that I should be able to at least grace my blog with an entry.

Yeah. So I totally totally miss blogging, but have been booking like crazy. Just yesterday, I booked six pages (and my book has very very tiny graph-paper, so despite how measily six pages sounds, that was pretty significant.

Baahaha! Lucia just came into the library and started singing “The Internet is for Porn”. Amuzed.

…I mean…yes.

Jamie: how much stuff do you think I have? =P As long as you don’t have a car filled with Grey Hounds, I think getting my crap in one trip will be quite feasible. So wOO! I’ll probably randomly call sometime again, though. Just because =D

Okay. So…alright. Everybody leave some nice comments for me!!11!

Off to laze for an hour before rehearsing. Durr…

Finger-Smashing Fun

Horaay. Blogging. With Sam, the rock-some librarian sitting nearby. Yeah. There’s totally one computer with the sloooooowest dial-up connection for something like 50+ people to use. Thus, the not blogging.

In any case, here is a witty summary of things so far…

Amazingly good nights of sleep: 5

Hours of daily rehearsal spent on quartet: 6-8

Pages written in blue-book on daily average: 3-5 (the graph paper leaves for v small hand-writing)

Books read: 3

Ticks found on/near self: 4

Ticks found sucking blood on self: 2

Awesome friends made: many

Awesome staff to hang out with: many

Awesome faculty I have worked with so far: 2 (more to come)

Awesome in residence string quartet I want to marry all the members of: 1

People asking to use computer when I am done: 3

I think I have to go. But I just thought that I would briefly blog to say I am having a fabulous time running from mosquitos and sitting on docks after dark and trying to infiltrate my psyche with cello and musical zen. I miss you all and whatnot. Laa!

Must go before peers slaughter me.

Trolle10

I have no idea why I thought now would be a good time to blog…

I’m very nearly through with packing, which I guess is good. My dad hasn’t mentioned what time he wants us to leave, but he must know that no matter what, it is necessary that we go to the Music-Shoppe and buy a rock-stop. One that I will inevitably lose. It’s sad: I had three rock-stops at the beginning of last semester and now I have none. I need one of those cool new endpins with super-sharp metallic tips that supposedly never wear down…

I would have gotten a lot of my things packed up last night, but I was definitely unconscious by midnight. And then I managed to sleep in for an hour longer than I had intended, this morning. So blah. More frustrating than anything is that I can’t seem to find my favorite Sterelab album, Dots and Loops. And the frustrating thing is that I know it’s somewhere in my room but I can’t figure out where!! AAH! It’s sad, but I may not be able to hear them for the five or so weeks I’ll be gone. Sigh. So rhythmic. I hate clutter.

Alright. I actually have to go.

Aside: Everyone should drive a Saab at least once in their life. Just…oh my god.

Dun Steal My Entry, Blogger

Blogger dun stole my entry,.

Arg. From now on, the rule for blogging on this computer will be to save my entry after every paragraph. I HATE losing significant entries. HAaaAATE!

Okay. As I had typed in before…I’m surprised I’m still alive at this point, considering I managed a whole two hours of sleep and then drove for a great portion of today. So…beware poor grammar/typing. I mean, more-so than usual, please.

Right. So last night (after being yelled at and procrastinating but still managing to get a few things organized) around 11:15, I wandered over to JaMeg’s, from which point we proceeded to University Cinemas to see PoA. Two words: SOOoooo GOOD! I don’t think I can give my whole spiel about the movie, because of time-constraints and whatnot, but on NPR Morning Edition, I heard a review which captured my main thoughts about the movie. What made it so great was Alfonso Cuaron (director). Don’t get me wrong, being the fangirl I am, I thoroughly enjoyed the first two HP movies as they were. However, there was definitely an element of the actual plot of PoA that Cuaron managed to capture amazingly well (particularly the last hour. oh my god), without involving a lot of sometimes distracting CG and silliness (not saying there was none of that though. There was a notable lack of CGs in places where there definitely could have been). Cuaron managed to move into a more serious manner of filming right at the point where the character of the books changes, too (not that PoA is dark compared to books 4 and 5, but it’s definitely a bit more dark of a read than its predecessors). I simply enjoyed the style, timing, and art of the movie. Yay, Cuaron!

Other than that, I have to say that I’ve always appreciated the cast for the HP movies, but this one just had me giddy. Gary Oldman. Great actor. Gary Oldman as Sirius Black. My fangirl heart is swollen. I honestly loved as little as the flyers for Sirius Black, where he’s laughing maniacally from Azkaban. I think my favorite for this movie was David Thewlis, who I recognized from the ’94 Caroline Thompson production of Black Beauty, as well as some other films. His voice and facial-hair threw me off at first, but after I got used to that, I was loving it. He was perfect for Lupin, in nearly every respect. Ahaha, I have to say I loved the part where Hermione kicks Malfoy’s ass. I loved the Hippogriff. I loved the part where Jamie turned to Megan and said “I really do look like Malfoy…”

Okay. So I got home around 2:30, knowing full-well that my mother and I had made a sudden and urgent decision to drive to Iowa City in order to have my bow reheared. I was fully prepared to get up at 6 and be in a car for three hours. But I couldn’t sleep. Not a wink. I was too awake. Too aware of everything. Too conscious of everything going on around me in the world. So what did I do? I started my Koucha Ouji fanfic. I have to say, this being the first real fiction work of writing I’ve done in probably four years (not counting the 11 or so pages I got with NaNoWriMo), things are going very smoothly. Not only am I not worried about it being in English (instead of Japanese), enjoying it, but I know exactly where I’m going with it. I know the main picture of the thing and how I want it. I just hope I can consistently remember to add to it.

I ended up probably getting around 2 hours of sleep. I was alright with this. I mean, I’ve been used to not getting more than 5 hours of sleep a night since about April, and my sleep-schedule has been weird lately. And of course, I had the three hour drive to IC both ways to sleep, or so I would have preferred. I think over the years, I’ve come to feel insecure trying to sleep in moving vehicles. I can’t remember the last time I’ve napped for more than 10 minutes in a moving car. Every band/orchestra trip I’ve taken has been made hell by this, just because sitting, conscious for 18 hours or more in a cramped bus is not the most pleasant of experiences. In any case, I was feeling fine for most of the day.

Anyway, we get to Iowa City, drop my bow off at Reck’s, and proceed to go shopping for a bit. And…okay. I’m never very much of a girl, in the sense of clothes, especially. But I must comment that I found the cooolest shirt in existence. Um, yeah. After meandering around Coral Ridge for a while, we drove to downtown Iowa City, were completely dumbfounded by the actual amount of people there, but managed to get to Eble Music Co. and spend a good hour scouring music, there. I like the three main guys who work there. I was vastly amused that apparently while we were just standing around inspecting sheet-music, Enaldo (XD kyaha) called, and they were like “yearrg, what does he want? he never called us back about that other thing he wanted. bleah.”

I just think I should take this opportunity to say that downtown Iowa City is the envy of all other small-city down-town areas. Really.

We were home by six. At which point…um…actually, I really don’t remember anything that’s happened between now and then. My dad bought a new Saab, for one thing. As I’ve heard him say twice now, he’s “died and gone to Saab heaven”. Speaking of Saab heaven, I’ll miss the old Saab. We had that thing for twelve years, and it had been around four years before we bought it, used.

Okay. Now things are starting to make less sense. When I say things, I mean everything. Words aren’t falling through or even connecting in my mind. I feel like I’ve been running for days, which I guess I have considering the lack of sleep thing. But at the same time, I’m feeling a lot more comfortable and refreshed than I was at any other given point within the last three or so weeks. I don’t know what it is. I think all the crazies are gone, now. I mean, all those save for the ones that just won’t go away. WHEEHEEEEE *dances around incoherently*

I’m so tired. So I’m going to go. Hopefully I’ll get to post while I’m in the Apostle Islands. If not, no big loss. I read my blog more than anybody else, anyway.

Woo…zy….

READ ME

music: brian eno – st. elmo’s fire

I definitely only got two hours of sleep last night. But I definitely love Harry Potter and Gary Oldman and a lot of other things. I’ll detail later (hopefully. If I don’t, maybe I’ll blog someday from Wisconson).

But for now, I have Arvo Part. And a fresh set of horse-hair. So I need to go Part-ify myself.

Number 9 Number 9

listening to: hooverphonic – nr. 9

Okay. In the course of thirty seconds, the supposed topic of this entry has modulated a few times. It was all for this song. For one thing, I had always kind of assumed that “nr.” was “number”, even though it’s head-smackingly obvious to me at this moment that “no.” would be the proper abbreviation for “number”, not “nr.”. But anyway, I was going to point out how much I like this song, not only for the song itself, but for the fact that it was called (at the time, in my head) “number nine” (I just typed “number girl” because I can’t even get my music fandoms straight). Then I was going to point out Revolution No. 9, from the Beatles’ White Album. This was going to lead to a cute story of how, to blatantly and arrogantly obsess over the Beatles in order to (attempt in the weirdest way possible to) impress some kids who also liked the Beatles in 5th grade, my friend Becca and I wrote “No. 9” on several pages of notebook paper and ran around saying it to each-other loudly. Yes, there is no question that I was just as awesome when I was 10 as I am awesome, currently. Uh-huh. Anyway, “nr.” does not mean “number”. But my abbreviation/acronym knowledge is pretty sad. So I attempted to look it up. “Nr.” could technically be any of the following (and many many more): Naval Reserve, Not Rated, Not Required, Main Rotor Speed-Rotor Rate of Rotation in percent, National Rail (Australia), Natural Rubber, Nauru, Naval Reactor, Navigational Radar, Nekromantix (band), Nice Roll, No Refill, No Repeats, No Reply, or No Rush (starcraft).

Alright, so I’m a nerd. But I’m a really stupid nerd. Does anybody know what the most common meaning of “nr.” is?

Yeah, I feel dumb. I also care less at this current moment than I think I ever have. I think this has to do with my completely unrelated changing topics of thought “Look at that shiny thing I am dumb oh my god red robots oh no my hed iz pastede on yay”.

Augh. So back where I said I didn’t want to play the cello but my body was making me — that’s all changed now. All I want to do is sit and play the cello. All day. Just put something in front of me and I’ll figure out how to play it (um…okay “try” might have been an appropriate word to add to that sentance). All it’s been for the past 24 hours is Britten and Shostokovich. I actually like obsessing over playing the cello more than I do obsessing over music theory. Because, when I think about music theory, I start questioning music and it’s entire existence and then my existence. Although, really, having been the first person in my musical family to come out with an “A” in music theory, shouldn’t I understand the things I supposedly learned?

Haha, speaking of music theory, I found my notes, which I saved because they had some very amusing things written down in them. Currently. I’m looking at a sheet of staff paper that was left blank, aside from “dear person to my right, you are a complete asshat”. Aah. Theory. How I’m…really glad I have another few months break before I have to go back to you.

I think my mom is about to strangle me for my sitting here and not cleaning my room. I can’t wait to get to Madeline Islaaaand!

Or to see PoA. Nyaaaah Gary Oldman as Sirius Black! Oh, fandom.

Hooverphonic –> Battersea –> Boston

listening to: hooverphonic – inhaler

Hmm. So Hooverphonic started out with a different singer than their current pretty hott one. Honestly, it’s hard to decide which I like better based on the fact that current singer’s actual singing has declined (to my ears) in the last two albums. So basically when I compare, I compare the first album and the second one.

Um, nevermind.

A lot of stuff has happened in the last few days. A lot. I’m ready to get the heck out of here. I also think I’ve shifted away from the two main states of crazy that have been killing me for the last month, and moved on into an entirely different one. I think I like antagonizing myself to some level.

A tribute to all my states of crazy…

Battersea how it is

It’s over, forget

Memories full of chocolate

I’ve got to get over it, forget

Your world is different than mine

I’ve got to get over it, forget

The sgurd is the one I don’t like

I’m afraid of him, got to forget

Knocking on the blue water

It’s over, forget

Praline and chocolate ice

Got to get over it, forget

Your world doesn’t match with mine

I’ve got to get over it, forget

And sgurd rules your friend’s life

I’m afraid of him, got to forget

Give me blogging capabilities and I give you stolen Belgian nonsense.

PoA at midnight!~!1!

The Super-Nanny Is WORNG

listening to: stereolab – cybele’s reverie (hott!)

Tch tch tch!!!!!

I need to watch myself with this computer. I just lost what might have been the first possibly meaningful and interesting entry I’ve written in ages, thanks to this poor, sad and incompitent iMac. Every night at exactly midnight, the HD starts an inventory scan that may or may not result in the computer freezing up if it’s using too much memory at the time of said scan. Sigh. I really think my Dad should buy a new eMac and let me use this one to decorate my room in memory of the old style of iMacs. See, I like the old iMacs. I just loathe System 9. ARRRRR.

Anyway, I’ll retype it tomorrow. It was about marriage, people my age getting married, and why I don’t believe I will ever be able to do the same.

So earlier, I searched for the begin-all origin of “PASTEDE ON YAY” and am now addicted to Fandom Wank. I lurve it. OMG DUN STEAL I CAN SEE THE PENCIL MARKS!!

I think I’ll go and sleep now.

Oh, wait, but first, Rob is awesome…
Talia: You know, the more I think about it, the more I hate Orlando Bloom.
Rob: GOOD.
Rob: He’s WORTHLESS.
Rob: good-for-nothing HAKC
Talia: “hakc”?
Rob: My passionate dislike for the talentless assclown of a prettyboy wannabe causes me spelling errors.
Talia: Hakc it is!
Rob: Exactly.

Just because I’m still amused at any chat in which I’ve slaughtered the laws of typing and grammar, and we were on the subject of spelling errors, I pointed Rob in the direction of this entry (hey, look my permalinks do work). For all of my chatz0rz acquaintances out there…

Rob: worng…that’s excllent :P

Ahahah. Hah–shaddup! Okay. Sometimes…I post conversations in my blog just to prove to myself that I actually have them. Sigh.

I Finally Understand The Fandom Wank-age

listening to: stereolab – cybele’s reverie

Stereolab is better than…sex? Okay, can’t really comment on that, but this song is hott.

Currently, the following people are my favorite people in the world (and if you aren’t mentioned here it doesn’t mean I don’t love you as much, it just means I probably haven’t seen you in several ages): Jamie, Megan, Michelle, Justin, Rob, Rebecca. I don’t know if any of you people even read my blog anymore, but that’s okay. Just know that you are loved.

As usually happens every summer right before I embark on some journey away from home, my mother is becoming snappish with me. I think I’m finally learning to deal with it in a way that doesn’t involve me becoming snappish right back at her. Eeh, probably not. But anyway, this is just increasing my restlessness and these silly ideas of leaving home. I mean, I’m finally getting used to being home. I don’t feel like adjusting to another new place, I’m addicted to manga and computer use, and I’m finally seeing my friends. But none of this is really holding me back from going out into a new musical experience. Especially one in the woods of Wisconsin.

Speaking of Wisconsin, I’m excited about going to spend a few days at JaMeg‘s cabin, not even an hour away from Madeline Island, right after the camp is finished on the 4th. I just…I love the woods. I love being in the middle of nowhere. There’s nobody else I’d rather be in a cabin in the woods with than Jamie and Megan. Keee!

I feel the need to exercise my mad-cello skills, so I think I will.

MY HED IZ PASTEDE ON YAY!

OMG Where’s My Doctor Beat WTF?!

listening to: the pixies – alec eiffel

I’m in the midst of a weird phase where part of my brain says it doesn’t want to play the cello play or even touch a cello because it’s all I ever do and it bores me, but my fingers and my body keep driving me to sit down and play every time I walk past that room. Actually, in the past day or two, I’m having a lot of fun playing. I’m really starting to develop style and color in my playing, as opposed to being only technically adept with my left hand. When you suddenly sound good where you didn’t before, you just want to melt the sound into your own hands even more. This is usually what happens to me when I play something and it suddenly sounds good. I notice it, stop, try playing it again and thinking about what made it that way. When I’ve mastered the sound, I try to make it more personal. I mean, I try to see where my personality fits into it. The way I see it, I don’t want to be the tool of my cello and instrument. I want an evident part of me to be in there, too. Hmph, unfortunately I specialize in making the rhythm more of my thing. It’s been a problem, lately.

It confuses me that I have inner conflicts over not wanting to be a “real musician”, and then I come and enter full nerdy music bits into my blog, like the above.

AAAH I WANT TO GO PLAY BRITTEN SO MUCH RIGHT NOW. BRITTEEEEN! SLAVAAAAA!!!

Um. Yeah. There was actually a point to this entry when I started out. Head asplode.

Arg. I just realized that I’m going to be without manga for a month. I know I could take some with me but…if I take one from a series, I need to have the rest of it, too. And…let me just say there is no way I’m taking 21 tankouban with me. That won’t stop me from writing fanfic, though. WAHAHAhaahh I don’t believe I just said that.

Sleep is necessary. I hope I don’t have any more dreams about restaurant-chains taking over the world. Brrr…denitakunai yo!

T-Mo

Travis Morrison, I could simpy marry you for the list of 100 top albums you put on your site.

I can’t wait until his solo album comes out. I’m all over it.

Inuyashaaaa, Why Haven’t You Ended Yet?!?!

Bored, without vehicle, and waiting for Rebecca to post an “amusing-but-at-her-own-cost” story. PASTEDE ON YAY! — I mean…she’s just posted it! And…nkyaa! Justin IMed me. I thought he was dead! Dead. Just like everybody else. Where is everyone?

Okay. Now that I’m done blogging of my interaction with other people (to prove my existence and theirs), on to other…things.

I’m starting to become unbelievably fed up with Inuyasha and how I don’t think it can ever end. Jamie, Megan and I discussed this on the way back from Iowa — Inuyasha is great. Or it was, anyway, before it started running storyline loops around itself. I’ve been collecting this manga from almost the very beginning — my first ever Tankouban were Inuyasha 1, 2 and 3, purchased while I was in Asahikawa. At this point, I’d known nothing of Rumiko Takahashi more than “Ranma 1/2”. So I was completely freaked out and excited when I had asked my host sister about Rumiko Takahashi and she showed me this manga with some girl who looked like Akane, and was being chased by the most grotesque and awesome monsters ever, and being followed by this boy with cat ears (Shaddup! This was before I knew Japanese!). So yeah. Finally I started collecting the manga, and really gave it my all until around volume 22. I have to say. There are only so many times I can see Kikyou die and go “gasp, so Inuyasha will HAVE to give her up?!”. I mean! Okay, Kikyou was dead in the first place! How is it that she can just keep showing up after supposedly having her “dirt and bone” body torn apart?! Does not compute head asplode!!!

My other qualms:

1) Wasn’t Kohaku, Sango’s brother, doomed to die about fifteen volumes ago? So why is he still alive and making Sango angsty?!

2) What does the Shikon no Tama have to do with anything, at this point? If Naraku just keeps coming back and finding ways of outsmarting everyone in existence, honestly, what’s stopping him from being destructive and evil even moreso than he’s already been?

3) This is generally a problem I have with shounen manga, in that adversaries (or sports games or anything goes martial-arts battles or whatever) just keep coming and getting bigger, and we keep getting to see our hero grow to fight. But…Inuyasha has done this SO many times. I feel like Inuyasha is kind of becoming like Conan, because the adversaries and problems keep stumbling forward and the enemies keep getting stronger and they ALWAYS get beaten, and yet there is no progress in the real story-line.

I would appreciate it if any of the following would happen.

1) If something significant would happen with Naraku.

2) If Inuyasha and Kagome figure out something of what they’re going to do after this mess is finished (which I don’t think will be ever). From my experience, multiple world/universe stories tend to not end up not how I’d like them.

At least I have Koucha Ouji. Mmm. Assam Tea.

Aside: What the hell kind of name is “Asher”?!1! *flail*

Weather Glorification

I’m drinking Polish mineral wateeeeer.

I drove to Urbana today, and had a lesson with one of the people who will be a faculty member at Madeline Island. What can I say. I have connections and I play the cello. And also I WANTED A CELLO LESSOOOON because i’m BORED and my celloing is STAGNANT. That is all that needs to be said.

First and foremost, I want to thank the weather for being completely insane. Thank you, weather.

After my lesson, I was about a block away from the U of I campus so I parked and walked around for a while ( <-- girl who depends on taking walks for piece-of-mind). The sky was excellent. Massive, white, imperfect but wonderful clouds. The wind said "storm" but I said "walk". And everything was so green. I meandered around and looked at buildings and managed to get the song "Chow Down" in my head (thus resulting in the below). So then I get into my car (I mean…boat) and head to I-74, to see that these imperfect clouds have formed masses of thunderheads to the West. Even more amazing to look at. The wind was awful, but the colors were AMAZING. Those clouds managed to represent every shade of dark blue and grey, constrasting completely with the bright blue of the open skies. Around Rantoul, the lightning kicked in. Heyworth was where I met rain. Still, throughout this entire drive of rain and lightning, the skies were amazing. I have to say, the Midwest may be flat as a door-nail, but the skies are so open. I feel like I’m about two inches tall when I’m out driving in the fields without cover. Which is generally accompanied with 5-year-old wonder, and the disbelief of my own existence. Yeah, weather glorification and whatnot aside, driving a mini-van (more like a TRUCK) in wind like that should not be done. By anyone. EVAR. Now to the nerdy-student portion of the entry… If I were any sort of music teacher, I would want me as a student. Down ego, down. Okay, seriously, I’m proud of myself for being flexible between teachers. I’m sure I’ve always been at least moderately flexible, but if anything I must have acquired this handy skill of mine last summer at Practice Boot-Camp–er, ARIA. You don’t work with three different teachers in four weeks and not learn to turn off the “what the previous guy I worked with told me” switch (Sidenote: this is also following learning to turn off the “I think I’m even moderately adept at the cello” switch). You concentrate on what particular teachers say, and you do what they ask. You don’t question. You don’t argue, you just do it. Whether they’re making you give your cello a bear-hug or making you swing your arms in ridiculously giant circles, you do it. Then you leave the lesson and you contemplate. You record. You think about what you liked and what you didn’t like and you absorb all of the important things into your mental and physical data-bank under “this teacher”. Then, you find an opportunity to work with some random person. Or even a Really Awesome person. And you go for it. Naturally, people learn different methods from different teachers and different schools (or as a good many of us like to say, “different things do different things”). So to avoid discrepency and denial and confusion, you wipe the slate clean of everything. No need to worry, all of the important things you’ve stored in your date-bank or practice blogs or material notebooks. And you have no problems. You’re starting over again. You’re storing more information.
And when you come across something you’re familiar with, you get to have the method paraphrased for you by somebody different. Exciting!

What’s so great about doing this is that you can pick out any one method from one teacher or any combination of methods from as many different teachers as you’ve learned from. Anyway, I’ve become pretty adept at doing this, which is why I’m so excited for this summer. This festival will be a treasure-trove of cello and chamber-music ideas that I can pick and choose from as I like. I love being given an entire variety of differing ideas.

However, I have to say that I really appreciated working one way for a whole year. Even though the above is a good way to grab lots masses of interesting ideas, I think when I concentrate my efforts on a few particular ideas of one teacher, I manage to strengthen my own playing in a lot of ways.

That’s one thing that’s frustrated me about these three weeks I’ve had off. I’ve become completely lazy without somebody to enforce ideas through watching me. My dad was listening to me play Bach and came upstairs to tell me to play more “stately” a couple nights ago (I think I yelled at him about that), but that’s really the only thing.

Anyway. Nerd is I. But the beauty of the thing is that it’s my blog and really just NYAHAHA.

Aside: Before I leave I need to get my hands on the following…

Television – Marquee Moon

Stereolab – Emporer Tomato Ketchup

Chow Down

This has become my favorite song of the moment, for oh-so many reasons…

look at all the architecture

i love to touch the textures

of all the mortar mixtures

look at all the architecture

no one loves it more than me

that’s why i have to set it free

’cause i feel the buildings weeping

i hear the brickwork screaming

it’s in such misery

that’s why it’s begging me

chow down, chow down the buildings

chow down, chow down the buildings

look at all the sculptures

think of all the untold tortures

feels like a loud lament

from all the monuments

no one else can hear them cry

when they suffer so do i

’cause i feel the statues weeping

i hear the granite screaming

it’s in such misery

that’s why it’s begging me

i like to lick the paintings

i wanna taste their pain

why the paintings have to hurt

lord, give me the strength to do my work

’cause i feel the paintings weeping

i hear the canvas screaming

it’s in such misery

that’s why it’s begging me

chew through, chew through the paintings

suck up, suck up the statues

chow down, chow down the buildings